#MY TORMENT FOR HIM IS COMING UP SOON.
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six-improbable-things · 4 months ago
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Oh my god, I can't with this fucking dnd campaign. (/pos)
Warren, the gunslinger who Rook is quite close with and almost views as a father figure fucking died during today's session. PERMANENTLY. As in "truly dead and never coming back". (It's been planned for months, apparently.)
And he died saving Rook (which wasn't planned but worked out perfectly). Rook had just died (temporarily), and was on a piece of ledge that was about to crumble and fall. So Warren runs over there, pushes Rook onto stable ground, and uses his magical tarot card he's had for months to revive Rook.
The ground breaks out from under him and he falls, along with both of the bad guys we're fighting. He knows both of them can teleport, etc. so he uses a bomb that he has with him and blows the three of them up.
His last words? (before he fell) "I have to get Rook." 😭😭😭
My poor baby boy who already feels SO incredibly guilty over causing the party pain (bc of the Sigmar mess) and already hates himself SO much, now is utterly convinced that he is 100% responsible for Warren's death. Not only bc Warren died to save him, but also because if Rook hadn't befriended Sigmar, none of this would have happened.
But now, the core member of the party, the one everyone looked up to and loved and trusted more than anyone else -- the one Rook looked up to and trusted more than anyone else -- is dead.
I already wrote Rook's "eulogy" for next session's funeral, and dear god, I've written some depressing shit, but I think this takes the cake. I could write an ESSAY about what I chose to say in that eulogy, and why it hurts more than the party will ever even know.
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ssreeder · 2 years ago
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Did I just binge read the entirety of LIAB over the last week in every moment of my free time? Yes. Am I caught up now? Yes. Do I never want this fic to end but also understand all good things eventually do? Also yes. Okayyyy but seriously though reedy my fucki g h e a r t oughhhh you're so talented I love every bit of this the torment the torture the detail bby gimme gimme more!!!!!! but also god let! them! kiss!!!!!!!!!! Also the way you write Jet like ooooh buddy that inner monolog is gonna be the death of you probably (most likely) Ngl I definitely have joined the Rasu fan club why is he so sweet help tbh I'd fall for his charms also thinking about what if he became friends with Reho I'd give our precious blabbermouth 2 minutes tops before Jee wants to murder him but Rasu takes him under his wing- introducing Smooth Talker 2.0 the tea shop couldnt handle all the new business. Ahhhhh there is so much more I could scream about this fic and probably will this is my first comment okayyyy ily byeeeeeee
(Still crying over Shen r.i.p. baby boy)
Omg please for Jee’s sanity do NOT put Reho in the teashop with him omg Jee would be on the first tram out of the city! Rasu is already on his nerves and the poor guy isn’t half as chatty as our man Reho lol.
Oh & not to mention Zuko is back so I’m sure Jees already gray hair will turn white from stress lol.
I’m really glad you’re enjoying liab it always makes me smile when I hear people are enjoying the story & all of the sad dark themes that go with it haha. Hopefully we get some happy times soon & YES! zukka kisses. They deserve it haha. <3
OH & I like that you enjoy Jet haha he is one of my favorites to write I love that chaotic flawed dude. He’s a mess I don’t wanna clean up
Thanks for the sweet ask :)
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tonycries · 19 days ago
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Cake or Fake - G.S.
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Synopsis. The only birthday gift your brother’s best friend wants? You. And not just for fake-dating…
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, brother’s best friend! Gojo, annoyances to lovers, fake dating, PINING, jealousy (Gojo’s side), past Sukuna x Reader, matíng presses, vírgínity loss (Gojo), oraI (fem rec.), PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, size kínk, cervíx kíssing, he’s such a tease, cúmplay, p talking, making him WHÍMPER, spítting, pánty-steaIing, slight chokíng, reader is Geto’s sister, matchmaking, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.1k
A/N. In honor of my hubby’s birthday!!
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“Wait, who’s coming to your party?”
“It’s not just a ‘party’, it’s my surprise party-” 
“Satoru, it’s not a surprise party if you’re the one organizing the surp-” You’re cutting yourself off with a heaving sigh, massaging your throbbing temples. “Anyway- continue.”
Growing up, you didn’t suffer through years of endless torment from Gojo Satoru to hope that he’d ever use logic. No, of course not. 
Instead, he’s brandishing the oversized birthday banner he’d bought himself, softly smacking the top of your head. “Besides- it’s not like everyone’s going to be there. Just our group, Nanami’s troupe, some Kyoto people, I invited Yaga but he kicked me out of his office- oh- and Sukuna.”
Ah, there it was. 
The one person you didn’t want to see just as much as you didn’t want to be roped into your brother’s best friend’s “surprise” party planning for his own birthday. But, alas, here you were. 
And here tumbled the next few words that would likely haunt you for the rest of your life. 
“I need you to date me.”
“Oh? Okay.”
“Listen I know it’s stupid and I know-” Wait…what? Cutting yourself off with a choked-up wheeze- for the first time since he’d barged into your life, Gojo had truly and absolutely stumped you. “Wait- you agreed?”
He’s shrugging one broad deltoid, tinted glasses that you’d bought for his last birthday sliding down that high nose bridge of his. And the grin you’re graced with is blinding. “Well, I knew it was about time before you fell for my charms~” Before one strong arm swings its way around your shoulders, manhandling you against the thin black t-shirt wrapped around his sculpted body. He wiggles his cloudy brows, “What was it- the hair? The eyes? The body? Y’know I’ve been hitting the gym more-”
“Gojo Satoru.” you’re gritting out through tight lips. “I need you to date me- just for one night.”
“So it was the body-” he’s gasping dramatically, beefy arms frantically wrapping around your middle. You could feel the curves of his washboard abs against your palm. Purring voice pitching up into what almost sounded like a whine, “At least take me out to dinner first–! To think that you just want me for a one night stand-”
In a split-second, your palms slap over his nonsensical mouth - hard enough that you almost spy a stinging stamp of red on his skin. 
And yet, Gojo doesn’t complain. Doesn’t display anything but a brazen gleam in his gaze that practically screamed out kinky~! 
“Shut- up- my brother’s in the next room.” You’re hissing, eyes flickering behind Gojo’s toned figure and towards the kitchen door for any looming sign of Geto. “I need you to date me-” Your digits tighten over his mouth as soon as you feel it moving to prattle away once more. “-just for tonight- no, not as a one night stand, put that banner down- We just need to ah- pretend?”
Damn, it sounds more of a garbage idea out loud - and you didn’t even know that was possible. 
At the question in his summer blue eyes, your hopefully explanatory words spill out a mile a minute. “S-so Sukuna has been getting around since our little break-up a few months ago- if you can even call it that…”
Ah, melding into such a big group with your brother’s friends and your own in university had always meant that there would be a few bumps along the way. 
From explaining to an overeager Haibara that no, you and Gojo were definitely not dating, to making sure that your brother and his best friend didn’t make Nanami suffer from an aneurysm too early in life, to perhaps the biggest of them all - your fiery, yet short-lived fling with Ryomen Sukuna. 
The most dramatic bump, according to Shoko.
Sukuna wasn’t a close friend, but it’d taken work to get over the worst of the awkwardness after he’d dumped you without a moment’s notice. And you weren’t exactly dreaming up a wedding with him…sort of, but you certainly did skip out on a few invitations to hang out if you knew that he’d show his smug face.
And right now it left you ironically wishing you’d heeded Gojo’s words when he’d first warned you that Sukuna “wasn’t right for you.” 
Though, you think part of it came from his own unexplainable love-hate animosity with the man.
“-but I’ve still been painfully single since the last time I saw him, and you know how he is. I can’t face him like this.” You, in particular, knew too well. “You two still have that weird rivalry thing going on, right? So help me show him up just for tonight- then later we say it fizzled out and everything goes back to normal. It’s a win-win really if- eugh!”
You snatch your hand back as far as it would go the very second you feel the sodden drag of something against your palm. Staring in horror at your clammy skin…he licked you.
And Gojo almost winces at the loss of your touch - he almost drags your hand back himself. 
But oh, it was worth it just to see the way your gorgeous features get scrunched up into an even more gorgeous glare - one that said if looks could kill, then he’d already be six feet under and having his surprise party thrown on his grave already. 
Truly the way to a man’s heart, he swoons internally. 
“Fine.”
And when has that particular tone from Gojo ever boded well for you?
“Fine?”
You find yourself gulping at the slight bob of his smooth Adam’s apple, the flex of his back muscles when he hunches downwards to crowd your space. Mere inches away. Somehow, he seemed too close and too far away at the same time. Too intoxicating with his cold, pinewood scent.
“Fine I’ll let you- heh, use me for my body.” Tone intentionally dipping into a low, rumbling territory. Gojo’s batting his long snowy lashes in a way you’d almost deem innocent - if it wasn’t for the next few words that tumble urgently from his mouth. “-only if you give me something back. A kiss.”
You jolt, “What?”
“I’m the birthday boy, and I say-”
Cutting him off with a thoroughly practiced scoff, “Well, I have common sense. And I say I should just ask Nanami instead-”
“Is the common sense in my five-star getaway cabin with us right now?”
“Okay! You two!” Geto’s roughened hands clap down on your shoulders with a little more force than necessary. His voice is patient - used to this. “Please try not to make this a funeral before we can make it a birthday party, Satoru’s decorations are non-refundable.”
Oh, shit.
How long had he been standing there?
Judging by Geto’s slight shake of your shoulders as if scrambling the practical part of your brain back into functionality - and the way he wasn’t lecturing your ear off just yet - you guessed that the two of you had been lucky this time. 
Face burning, you pray you didn’t look as guilty as you were. Swatting your older brother’s well-meaning hands away. “Speaking of, for a busybody hosting his own surprise party, I’m shocked you didn’t want any gifts.” Quirking a brow, “Is there even anything you want? Anything else?” 
Gojo knew what you meant - you weren’t just talking about the party anymore. 
And, well…he avoids your eyes. Yes. Yes, there is .
You. 
But, woe, even the utterly shameless Gojo Satoru couldn’t possibly say that out loud - especially in front of his best friend, and your brother - so he settles on an obnoxiously dragged-out, “Awww- Trynna make my birthday special f’me, sweetheart~?”
And even that was toeing the line.
He can’t help the way his rosy lips curl smugly at the edges when you’re hissing out a heated, “S-see if I try and have a civil conversation with you ever again, Gojo.”
“Ouch!” Gojo’s clutching dramatically at his heart with a willowy faint that leaves him hanging off of Geto’s shoulders - and it wasn’t too hard to fake with the way his heart lurches uncomfortably at the sound of his last name on your pretty tongue. “Right for the jugular- is this your way of throwing the towel on our truce?”
Truce…is that what he’s calling it?
You catch your own brother - that traitor - stifling a bout of laughter behind his hand when his towering best friend seems to cower in your mere presence. Because, really, who was Gojo Satoru against you? 
Sighing with that slightly infuriated pout you haven’t lost since you were a whiny, teary-eyed brat meeting him at his Digimon-themed birthday party many, many years ago. 
Gojo takes the moment to truly appreciate how you’ve grown since.
He hadn’t technically invited you back then - but what else was there to do when your older brother was off making friends in kindergarten already and being invited by his “new best friend”?
You’d been pouty the entire evening at that, he remembers, and his mother had gotten a ton of photos just of your bickering duo. A year younger and just barely an inch shorter than him, but to a freshly six-year-old Gojo that made all the superiority - enough to tease you badly enough that you’d left him with a tiny, throbbing pink handprint across his cheek, and his poor heart in your palm.
“No.” Your voice rips him out of his reverie, as it always seems to do these days. “So you better k-keep up your end of the truce, too.”
With you stomping your way back to your cabin suite, Gojo finds his twinkling eyes straying right after. Hot on your heels. Unable to tear away. You really have changed since then, all grown up - as is he - and yet-
“That’s after a truce?” Geto wonders out loud for the both of you.
Well, he’s eyeing his best friend. And Gojo was nothing if not a good- well, he was good at everything, quite frankly. Everything except for when it came to you. “Suguru, we might have to plan a surprise engagement party tonight instead of a surprise birthday party.”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
Because he still feels as much the bumbling six-year-old with his first-ever crush as he was back then.
---
“Matching colors?”
You sigh, “Check.”
“Matching backstories?”
“Check.”
“Kiss me?”
“Ch- wait not yet-” you’re managing to shrill out, fingers curling even tighter around where Gojo had insisted you latch onto his bicep. And you feel him flex boastfully under his velvety button-up, “And do we really need to make some grand entrance? You literally planned the entire party.”
He’s flicking your forehead - softly, you’ve seen Gojo roughhousing with your brother before and he didn’t use even half his strength on you. “Surprise party- the birthday boy has to make a dramatic entrance with his girlfriend. How else will we make a statement?” 
You’re grumbling to yourself about why you needed to make a statement at all - but you can’t argue, this was your idea after all.
And Gojo seemed well and fully intent to excel in his role…perhaps too intent. 
Now, you always knew that his family was disgustingly wealthy; but Gojo practically dragged you to the nearest high-end mall this morning. Insisting on the latest twinkling bracelets and bejewelled necklaces to match his fitted shirt. Cooing that you looked “absolutely gorgeous” in every single one. 
Was this official girlfriend treatment from Gojo Satoru himself? You’ve never known him to have had a long-term relationship in all the years he’s been your brother’s friend but…but it was all so much for just one night of acting. 
And when you’re twirling that flowy silken fabric of your dress around your fingers, you wonder if that’s all he was thinking. 
“Hey?” The rounded pads of his fingers skim over your cheeks, “Nervous?”
“A little.” you admit, trying oh-so-desperately to escape from his blazing sapphire gaze. 
And Gojo crushes you close to his body, one massive palm resting firmly on your hips, hardened front pressing up against yours. Warm. Steady. Voice so close now that you could catch every slight crack towards the end, the heat of Gojo’s feverish breath - practically burning - against your ear. 
You wanted to feel his hands more - everywhere. 
Woah. You’re shaking your head, thankful it simply looked like you were gathering your wits. Maybe you were more tired than you thought.
“We’ll be alright. Trust me, it’ll go smoothly.” Was- was Gojo Satoru comforting you? He’s cracking a smile, like the thought just occurred to him, too. “And if it doesn’t then I can beat up that b-”
SLAM!
“Why are you taking so lo- What. The. Fuck.”
Your first instinct is to wrench away from Gojo’s hold - but unluckily for you, his first instinct is the exact opposite. And you find his firm digits tensing to dig into the plush of your hips, both of your heads snapping towards that gravelly new voice. 
Catching a jaw-dropped Shoko with her half-burnt cigarette dropped to the floor, she looked nowhere near even thinking of picking it back up. You could practically see the gears curdling around in her head.
“Ah-” You’re gasping out in what you hoped was believable scandal, fingers latching around Gojo’s own cold ones. Not to remove - no, Gojo almost has a heart attack when you intertwine them with yours. “Hope we’re not too late, Sa- Toru here wanted to go shopping.”
“Wait-” Shoko runs her hands through her silky locks like she was pleading to the skies above. “Wait wait wait- wait- when did this happen no-” She’s baring you with her most aghast look, “Why did this happen?”
Gojo comes to your rescue, face falling into the crook of your neck with a grin. “Told ya she would fall for my charms eventually~”
“Yes, but I didn’t think she was that stupid-”
Yes! You have to fight to hide your smile, despite the blatant insult. One down - if you could get everyone at this party to believe in your little act, then Sukuna would have to. 
“Still here–” You’re deadpanning, hoping that your friends didn’t catch the slight tremors in your voice. Damn- why did Gojo have to be so warm. “-and uh- maybe we should head inside? After it is a certain someone’s-”
“Shhh! You’ll ruin my surprise.”
It all goes according to script - well, your entrance with Gojo and his entrance into the party. 
As soon as your duo steps in, the dim lights flicker on and you’re deafened with the cheery yell of surprise! Blinking your startled gaze to adjust to the blinding decorations upon decorations that Gojo himself had put up, you can’t help but let out a chuckle at the smiling faces that meet you. 
Geto and Haibara holding exploded party poppers, the rest of the group from Kyoto standing around a brightly lit cake you’d baked, Nanami the one turning on the lights - the farthest away from the birthday boy. Purposefully so, you imagine.
And there - in the center of it all - Sukuna. 
Arms crossed, a pink brow raised as he drinks in the sight of you - all of you. 
As was the rest of the room, eyes widening in true surprise. 
Gojo’s clutching the front of his shirt with almost-frightening theatrics. “You guys- You did this all for me? You’re the absolute best-”
“Eugh.”
“What did you blackmail her with?”
“Congratulations on your relationship!”
Your eyes latch onto Geto - who only takes a long look at you and cackles. 
Gojo’s huffing ever-so-slightly as he gets cut off, and that’s what it takes for you to realize that you still had his fingers looped undeniably with yours. In fact, he’s tugging you even close to wrap one heavy arm over your shoulder, the very picture of sappy devotion when he nuzzles his cheek into your own. “They’re bullying me~”
He was laying it on thick.
He’d barely steered you into the living room before you catch a flash of white and two firm arms curled around your neck - away from your supposed boyfriend. 
“My lovely!” Utahime cries, cocktail abandoned somewhere to wrangle you free from Gojo’s treacherous grasp. She’s cupping your face with visible concern, “Is your head okay? Did you knock it somewhere? I know a good doctor that can help with-”
“Hey! She’s my lovely-”
“I’m fine, Utahime.” You’re subtly stepping on Gojo’s toes before things can escalate any further. Eyes meeting red ones from across the room, “-I promise. We’re just ah- giving it a go. It’s very new and we didn’t want to make such a big deal out of it, honestly.”
Lies. The entire point is to make a big deal out of it. 
Shoko crosses over in a flash, droopy eyes flickering between you and a sheepish Gojo. “Giving it a-” Slicing their way over to the decorative blush on his cheeks, “-go…huh.” 
And as you’re surrounded by the tittering crowd, you’ve never felt more like one of those cell samples that Shoko would dissect in medical school and proudly show your reluctant self pictures of. 
Ogling everything from the weight of Gojo’s hand on your shoulders to that soppy smile on his face when he smushes his cheek into yours like some overgrown cat. And you can’t help but wear a grin of your own.
Can’t help but feel relief when she cracks a wicked smile, “Fucking finally.”
Haibara gathers your hands in his own, “I-I’m so proud of you two! Nanami and I have been hoping for this for the past five years-” Flitting his strangely wet eyes to a Nanami who couldn’t have looked more disinterested if he tried. “-isn’t that right Nanami?”
“No it’s not.” he’s rolling his eyes, but you catch the slightest hint of a twitch at the corners of his lips. And it hits you that he’s happy for you. 
Really, truly happy.
“Right right!” Haibara plows on, and you have half the mind to wonder if the obliviousness was a skill. “It’s been more like the past seven years-”
Geto slaps! his hand on Gojo’s shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “So he finally grew the balls, huh?”
“Eh? I mean-” you’re strangling out at your brother’s sudden comment. “-I mean of course. Had to practically force it out of him though, y’know?”
Shoko nods, eyes far away like she’s remembering something you can’t. “Of course, you did- pining fool.” And in the corner of your eye, you sneak a glimpse at the way Gojo’s sharp jaw clenches. Grinding ever-so-lightly as she calls out, “Well, I was almost at my wit’s end with your horrible taste in men. No offense, Sukuna, not that this one’s any better- let me know if you ever need his balls chopped off in his sleep–”
Utahime’s narrowed glare stays locked on Gojo, “Hurt her and it’ll be more than your balls.”
Sukuna, notably, says nothing.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru was a liar. 
The guestlist for his birthday wasn’t simply your friends - it was damn near the entire campus by the time the cake had been cut and you’d all settled into your usual conversations. 
Body after body filtering in through those towering mahogany doors of his. Invitation or not. Rapidly and steadily, it was growing into another one of Gojo’s famed parties. Honestly, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d actually bumped into Professor Yaga somewhere in there. 
“Eheh- whoops.” His apologetic words hit hotly against your ear over the thumping music. Your body jostling precariously where you were sat all prettily in his lap on the overpriced living room couch. “I don’t even know half these people.” 
And, yet, more than half the people seemed to know you - or, at least, your relationship with Gojo. 
Sure, you were aware that your brother and his best friend were amongst some of the most popular students on campus, but this was ridiculous. You couldn’t pass two minutes without a few guests sauntering up to wish the two of you well and leaving Gojo with a “congratulations for finally growing the balls.”
“They sure know a lot about your balls, huh?” You’re raising a brow, back pressed up against the massaging ridges of his abs. And some part of you felt guilty for deceiving all of these people - they really did look curiously happy for the two of you. 
Gojo’s bemoaning, “I can assure you that you are the only one allowed to talk about my b-”
“Ugh, couples.” Comes your brother’s voice to the side of you, the cushiony couch dips as he takes his seat. “Though, it is much better than having him mope around.”
“Suguru…” Gojo murmurs. Low. 
“What? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your girlfriend?” Geto was such a provocateur despite that serene expression he’d constantly wear on the outside. Taking a long swig of his beer before musing, “Remember, she’s my sister, Satoru. And I think she should know about that book of pick-up lines you bought for her. And that picture in your-”
Immediately, two engulfing hands find their place on either side of your head, covering your ears so blatantly. Gojo’s strained screech is only slightly muted when he drags out, “W-we haven’t gotten to that stage yet!”
“Oh, I see I see-” And Haibara - dear, sweet Haibara - always chooses the worst times to pop up from behind the two of you. Ringing voice commanding the attention of about half of the room nearby when he’s humming, “So you two are still in the honeymoon phase, then? How romantic!”
“No.”
“Yes.”
There’s such dangerous possessiveness in Gojo’s limbs when they tangle in a mess with yours. One arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other gliding its lecherous pathway up and down your exposed thigh. Slowly. Savoring. 
Gojo’s fingers twirl over the short hem of the dress he’d bought, lips pressed up against your throat as he mutters. “Aw, c’mon– no need to be shy, sweetheart.”
And you’re sure whatever strange little flip your heart did showed on your face - because immediately, you’re being showered with awww’s and squeals from all around you two- when did you even draw in a crowd?
“Then why dontcha give ‘er a pretty peck to prove it.”
But of course, Sukuna was in it, too.
“What?” 
You try not to let your true feelings bleed into your words when you take a long look at that unchanged smirk, the way he’s tilting his tattooed neck in defiance. Shrugging up sculpted shoulders, “M’just saying. If you were my girl, I’d want to prove it to everyone here.”
Damn.
Geto nudges his best friend, and you grit your teeth - because proving it was exactly what Sukuna did when you two were dating. Often these parties found you sneaking away if he felt generous, and Sukuna’s lips hot against yours right on the dance floor if he didn’t. 
All in front of a fuming Gojo.
And, hell, if he could be petty then so could you. 
You’re ignoring the boiling in your veins to run a few stray fingers through Gojo’s angelic hair. Soft. It drags his steely gaze from Sukuna over to you with a gulp, “S’that okay, Toru–” Oh god, that nickname has Gojo wondering whether he’s in heaven. “-wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“Tch, are you kiddin’ me-” He recovers quickly, and you didn’t know whether the raw awe in his voice was part of the acting or simply just Gojo being himself. “-provin’ to losers than I’m yours is the best birthday gift I could get.”
The last thing you see is that tiny, curvaceous dimple at the end of Gojo’s grin before he’s smashing his lips onto yours. It’s messy. Disorganized. The very beginnings of a sodden French kiss. 
Sheer teeth and lips and need as he suckles lightly on your lower lip, pearly white canines sinking in ever-so-lightly until you keen. Lost into the wolf whistles erupting from the party-goers - it seems to knock some sense into you two.
And Gojo breaks the kiss with a panting pah! sugary sweet taste of his birthday cake lingering on your tongue - over as soon as it started. “Happy birthday to me.”
“You are so corny-” you’re croaking, more so because you didn’t know what to say than anything. Because all your mind was whirling with weren’t words - it was the feeling of wanting more more more-
Shit. Your eyes widen, peering down at Gojo’s half-drunken gaze - even though you’re sure his lightweight self hasn’t had a single drink tonight. You wanted to kiss him more. 
“I-I think I’m going to get a drink.” you’re mumbling out, hastily standing on two unsteady feet. Mere moments away from stepping into the kitchen - from making your escape - before long digits clasp around your wrist. With a plastered smile, you turn to Gojo, gaze flickering down between his begging eyes and that vice-like grip of his. “You need anything, babe?”
“Ah-” Gojo lets you go as if your skin scorched him - as if he didn’t even realize that he’d been holding onto you this way. “No no, nothing for me- don’t take too long, m’kay~”
Every step you take, Gojo’s watching after you like it couldn’t be fast enough.
Because after that? That kiss that had him feeling like a pathetically melty puddle of teenage hormones? Shit, he’s almost on the verge of getting out of his seat and running after you like a maiden himself-
“So…ugh- was that part of the truce?”
“Huh?”
“Was that- dammit, Satoru fuckin’ look at me- she’s not even in your line of sight!”
“Oh- what?” Gojo’s veering his eyes over to his best friend, gaze still trailing after you like a lost puppy even when he registers the other man talking to him. Your little audience had mostly dissipated by now, leaving him to act as much of a fool as his idol-like persona on campus didn’t allow. 
Geto lets him stew in the strobing silence of the party music for a little longer, before heaving out a sigh that was much too worldly for a young man of twenty-something. As a younger sister, you really did give him grief - and he finds himself almost wishing he hadn’t interrogated Gojo after overhearing your strange agreement earlier today. “Man, you really are stupid, huh?”
“I know.” 
“And this charade of yours is even stupider.”
“...I know.”
“And you realize that you might just be helping her back into the arms of that Sukuna all over again, right?”
“WHAT?” He’s so desperately loud that a few guests in the vicinity jump. But Gojo didn’t care - he didn’t give a shit about anything other than grasping onto Geto’s collar, shaking him stupid. “Have you lost your mind- I’m supposed to be the nonsensical one in our duo-”
“I-I’m just saying.” Geto’s putting his hands up as if a shield, “Getting an ex-boyfriend jealous using the same man he was threatened over when they were dating? Sounds like the textbook recipe for jealousy sex if you ask me.”
Oh, Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone. Brows marrying together, he only wobbles his best friend harder. “B-but no- that can’t be- they hate each other, don’t they?”
And, ah, he hated how Geto always knew what to say. 
Hated how he already knew by the devilish curve of Geto’s lips that nothing that was about to fall out of it was going to do his sanity any good. 
Gojo flails, “No wait-”
“Don’t you two claim you ‘hate each other’? And yet, here you are.” Geto’s patting his best friend on the back as if consoling him, shaking his head with the patience of a mother with a few problem children. “There there, you complete imbecile. Now you might want to stay here sulking with a singleton like me, or- you might want to go over there and avenge the honor of your fake relationship, because I see an ex-boyfriend coming in hot.”
“What?”
He’s jerking his head around so urgently that Gojo’s vision blacks out for a bit - and that’s exactly the excuse he’ll use for years to come when he shoots up to his full height. Snatching a glass of liquid courage from Geto-
“Satoru, that’s-”
Knocking it back within seconds before storming off to just where he could just peak your beautiful self in the kitchen being crowded by Sukuna. That adorable furrow in between your brows betraying your thoughts, lips moving furiously with a frown.
“Do you think he knows that what he drank was just water and not alcohol…” Geto tilts his now-empty cup at a lounging Nanami nearby, head bowed like he couldn’t give a single fuck if this party burned with him in it. 
“No.” 
“Do you think he realized the ‘jealous sex’ was a bluff?”
“No.”
Geto lets out a slight huff of laughter, “And do you think he realizes that more than one person in our group knows it’s pretend?”
“No.” Nanami didn’t care if he risked sounding like a broken recorder, after spending almost a decade with you two dancing around each other, he thinks he’s owed that privilege at the very least. “I don’t think he realizes that had your sister so much as looked his way, let alone date his sorry self, then the entire campus would have been hearing about it for the past month.” For the first time since he’d found himself accidentally dragged into Geto’s conversation with him, Nanami raises his head to catch the tail end of Gojo’s lanky legs disappearing into the kitchen. “After all, Sukuna did break up with her because they were in love with each other. Just too stupid to see.”
Now, you might not exactly be his yet like he’s wished on every single birthday candle since he was six - but Gojo Satoru was to be damned if was going to let any other bastard steal his fake girlfriend.
“Sukuna-”
“Awww…what happened to ‘Kuna’, baby?”
You snort, arms crossing over each other while you fixate your glare on Sukuna’s leering form. God, the kitchen just seemed too small for the two of you. “I think you lost that privilege when you dumped me.” Attempting- failing - to sidestep, “Now if you’d excuse me, my boyfriend is-”
Scoffing, “Girl- what boyfriend?”
Sukuna looked to be on the very verge of laughter, and you were on the verge of breaking into a nervous sweat. He’s rasping out a rumbling snicker at that look on your pretty face, “Oh come on, now- you can’t really expect me to believe that sorry excuse of a kiss came from the same man that’s been wantin’ you for years, right?”
Shit. 
Wait…years?
Your fingers curl tighter around the beer bottle, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
And you watch as Sukuna’s mouth drops - now fully laughing in your face. “Damn- not even a hint? You really did downgrade after me, ma. At least I was honest.”
“Honestly an asshole, that’s for sure.” 
But the rest of your fire swims down the drain as he inches closer. And closer. Heat radiating off the rippling muscles of his body when a big, beefy arm of his cages you against the polished marble counter. Head inclining slightly towards the door, “Well- why don’t you and I-”
“Take your fuckin’ hands off my girlfriend.”
“Satoru?”
But the sight you’re met with seems anything but - gone is that softly teasing demeanor, vanquished is Gojo’s easy smile. His pretty features are twisted into such a feral snarl; and where his tone was ice-cool, his eyes were blazing with raw fury.
Gojo looked like he didn’t even hear you as he echoes, “I won’t say it again.”
“Well alright then, Mr. Boyfriend.” Sukuna lets go of the cool counter surface with a knowing chuckle, walking horrifically towards a seething Gojo himself. The two stand eye-to-eye, glare-to-glare. “Are ya sure you and your third-rate acting wasn’t interrupting anything between myself and my girlfriend?”
“Satoru, ignore him–” You’re pleading, trembly voice jolting Gojo out of his hypnotized stupor, and making him drag his heavy legs around to you. Fuck, that was close. You didn’t know what-
“That’s right. Comfort your friend the only way you know how- s’not like you can do anything other than pine for decades until the next one comes around to steal her away, anyway.”
CRASH!
In a split-second, Gojo has Sukuna pinned against the wooden cabinets by his cotton shirt. Ego and desperation wafting from the two men as his feet dangle a few centimeters off the floor. Gojo had his teeth bared - eyes wild, looking like he was seconds from foaming at the very mouth. And Sukuna’s own lips quirked upwards into a grin. 
“You better watch your fucking mouth.” Gojo hisses. 
“You wanna tell her or should I-”
“What is happening here-” Shoko’s sharp voice snaps the three of you from your little bubble of violence, and it’s like all of a sudden the music and the party comes pouring back into the kitchen. Strangers and friends alike hot on your heels to watch the drama unfold, being pushed back by a frantic Haibara. “You’re acting like children.”
Sukuna shoves the other man off of him, and makes his way out. “Well, I know one of us hasn’t grown up.”
And Gojo is just about to stride forwards- until you catch him with a hand hooked around his elbow. Feeling the washing sense of deja vu from not too long ago. Hastily spitting out, “N-now- oh! Look at that, let me get that bruise cleaned up-” There was no bruise, and there was no reason for you to drag Gojo from the kitchen as fast as you did. Yet, you did anyway. “We’ll be upstairs–”
“Man…Sukuna.” Geto whistles lowly, watching you lug his 6’3 mess of a clingy best friend up the stairs and into what he assumes to be Gojo’s bedroom. “I know you wanted to set them up together badly but wasn’t that a little much?”
“Oh shut up- I don’t give a shit if they get together or- or if she’s happy or not.” he gruffs, stalking off. 
Yet, Geto guffaws at the angry rouge that colored the very tips of his ears, and the slight wobble in Sukuna’s lower lip when he stops to watch you two make your escape.
Yeah. “Didn’t give a shit” his ass. 
“Ugh.” Utahime rolls her eyes, signalling at the DJ to raise the volume on the music just a tad louder. She had a dreading feeling they’d strangely need it. “Men.”
.
.
.
Ugh, men. 
You roll your eyes, the soft pads of your fingers tracing over where Gojo’s knuckles were slightly reddening after knocking against the cabinets. You were only glad that it didn’t escalate into something even worse - damn this stupid idea. 
“I’m sorry.”
Gojo breaks the thickened silence between you two, his sullen voice echoing across all four wide corners of the master bedroom. But all you can hear is the thundering of your own pulse when he blinks his eyes up at you, “I didn’t…didn’t think it would go this far.”
The two of you are sitting on the edge of his king-sized bed, practically sinking into the plush mattress. And you can’t help but notice how much the room smells like him.
“Ah, well- y’know…” you’re trailing off, and the way you look at him - so soft and raw will forever be etched into his honeyed mind. You were comforting him…what a night. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. B-beside- it’s over now, isn’t it?” 
He can only nod.
And you feel your fingers twitch where they were cradled in his much larger ones. Fuck. Here goes nothing…
“So that means I have to hold up my end of the bargain now, doesn’t it?”
Oh. 
Gojo blinks.
Oh.
“Wait- so was it the body or the char-”
“Unless you finish that sentence right now. In that case I’m never speaking to you again.”
And shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut Gojo Satoru up then you’d have been wielding this power much, much sooner. Breath hitching when his plump, pinkish lips instantly zip shut, and he’s scrambling off the bed to kneel in front of you.
Kneel.
Gojo was kneeling in front of you, knees clacking to the floor so hard that you think it must hurt. But all that he wears on his expectant face is the rosiest of blushes, and the slight pucker of his lips when he leans in. “I-I’ll shut up- but can I have my kiss now?”
You couldn’t gift an answer even if your dizzy mind could somehow conjure up one.
Because with the slightest nod of your head - barely motioning even a few millimeters - Gojo’s crashing his lips onto yours like he was starved. 
Like he didn’t want to breathe - didn’t need to - when his mouth was meshing against yours. Addicted from that faux kiss downstairs. Keening out a low whine at the very back of his throat, he’s gulping in steady heavals of your essence. Greedy hands circling your body-
“O-oh shit.” he kisses, mouth parting from yours ever-so-slightly because fuck, he had to breathe. But he’s completely and utterly sure that he could die happy right here and right now, lips firmly pressed against yours. 
You’re half-heartedly sputtering, “We should– the party–”
“D-don’t talk to me about a fuckin’ party, pretty.” His teeth pull lewdly on your lower lip, “One more- that was a practice run. O-one m-”
This time, it’s you cutting him off. 
Swallowing up the rest of Gojo’s sentence and forcing his body to wreck with a sudden bolting of lightning. And Gojo swears he tastes heaven on your lips, thumbing open your jaw further to pry out your lolling tongue and suck. 
You moan out what sounds like a slurring string of his name over and over - praying that these walls were as soundproofed as they looked. 
Fingers nimbling their way over to the first few open buttons of his shirt - the very graze of your skin down his burning one sends shots of electricity down Gojo’s body. It makes him jolt. It makes him drag in a heaving lungful. It makes his heavy palm drop its way to the curve of your ass and squeeze. 
“Wait-” he’s drunken. Seething. Silvery strings of rope snapping in the heady lack of space between you two when Gojo pulls away. “-what’s it that they say- one more for luck?”
One more. And another. Another. Another and another and it’s still not enough even when Gojo’s mouth was throbbingly red and raw from crashing against yours, whimpering at the slightest wet glide of your candied lips across his.
Meshing in a sodden pucker he’s trailing his plumpened lips down the splatters of dribble that’d made its way down the corner of your mouth. 
As lazy as his hands were, long digits drawing circular massages up, up, up your thigh. You’re gasping when the fat curve of his thumb nudges in through your drenched panties, drawing a sopping wet line down your teary slit. 
“I think…” Cutting himself off to let his tongue slide out and lick a languid stripe down your drivel. “...think I needa hah- kiss those other lips of yours for good measure, sweetheart.”
Oh.
Fuck.
He looked like he was seconds from drooling at the very thought. Nervous energy bleeding into his words, making them sound almost like a whimper. Gojo Satoru wasn’t asking - he was begging on his knees right before you to eat out your pretty cunt.
Sharp inhales being sucked through his drunkenly parted lips when you slide your fingers through his sweat-soaked hair and pull. “Th-then you better make it worth all the trouble, Toru.”
Oh, his head tumbles backwards at the sound of that nickname on your lips once more.
Chuckling - chuckling - all humorless and crazed. Bleary eyes locked on you and only you, he doesn’t move them a singular inch once all the while dipping his fingerpads into the hem of your panties and pulling. Dragging out the drenched excuse of your panties, they’re splotching a glistening coating of your sweet, sweet juices down your thighs. 
And Gojo only turns to look once he brings them eye-level - up to his face and-
“Toru, you’re so nasty–”
“Ya think?” Gojo huffs out through the slicked-up fabric of your underwear, breathing in your essence like it was his favorite scent. And you swear you catch him sneaking in a few droplets of your syrupy juices that splatter onto his mouth. Groaning, “Oh, sweetheart- m’gonna make you realize just how nasty I really am.”
Without any apologies, without any warning, your thoroughly hypnotized self is being shoved down roughly onto the mattress. You bounce a few times against the navy sheets, legs hiking up on autopilot - exactly the way that Gojo wanted them. 
You really were made for him. 
Mewling, “Wh-what-”
“Shhh sh sh-” he’s whispering out in ragged rasps, still pressing a few pretty pecks against the mound of your translucently glossed panties. It was taking everything in him to part- to set them down…Well, perhaps not that far. Gojo stuffs your panties mindlessly into the back pocket of his pants, tongue swiping a moisturized coating over his lips when he takes back in the sight of you. “M’talking to her.”
All splayed out on the bed for him - it was like all his dreams materialized into real life. 
Literally. 
“Oh, look how wet she is–” His creamy fingertips push up your dress to make such a slurring mess all over your pursed lips. On purpose. Swirling the edge of his manicured thumb over and over in the tiniest of circles over your pulsing clit. And Gojo snickers at how greedy she was for his attention…how cute. “-whaddaya think she’s ngh- tellin’ me, pretty?”
Rubbing your fists over your eyes, you’re seeing stars when Gojo’s rude digits give your clit a sudden pinch. “I-I don’t know–”
“Awww- are you sure?” You’re being showcased the most innocent pout you’ve seen him plaster on his entire life, lower lip jutting out and looming so dangerously close to kiss the drizzling trail at your puffy folds. “Because she’s so talkative to me- might jus’ be nicer than you.”
You wish you could snap back as you usually would - oh, how you wish. 
But you’re sure that any and every noise that showers out from your dazed mouth wouldn’t even be heard. Because for one infuriating time in your life, Gojo was right. 
Those sugar-coated squelches from your dripping cunt replayed in your ears over and over. Every teasing pattern of Gojo’s fingertips has you rambling in a saturated song that sticks to your ears like cotton. And Gojo couldn’t get enough.
He couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t falter no matter how much he wanted to keep up this ever-cracking facade of being suave. Heeding to practically every word from your pretty pussy when his heated mouth gruffs closer and kisses you.
Slow. Filthy.
“T-Toru–” you’re whining, your fingers entangling with his snowy locks. And no matter how hard you tug, Gojo doesn’t move even an inch. “-make sure you ngh- b-breathe- fuck-”
“Don’t need to..don’t- don’t need it…” Gojo’s slurring out into your saccharine pussy lips, intentionally dragging out his words so that they vibrate all down your spine. 
Button nose massaging against your ample clit, the decadent room rings! with a sultry squelch. And you’re peeking down at that sinful sight of Gojo’s tongue smearing your puffed-up pussy lips agape. Swiping around and around the circular hole of your entrance before plunging in-
Oh.
Gojo looked like he was so in bliss. 
Eyes sliding all the way to the back of his head with one taste of your bawling cunt on his tongue- shit. Shit.
Shit shit shit. He’s out of control when he gasps, two hands curling under and around your thighs to haul you down the bed. Maw hanging ferally open when he’s gashing your poor pussy with the most sodden French kisses - Gojo’s never kissed a person like this before. And he doesn’t think he ever will - other than you. 
Doesn’t think he’ll ever feel as feverish as he does right now when he’s craning his deft fingers into his mouth. Sucking. Tasting. Each and every one with a messy pop! pop! pop! 
He really was nasty.
You gape at the way your slick hangs all down his lips and coats a sparkling glaze that drips down his chin and forms a little pool at his neck. His collarbones. Trickling down with pearly beads of sweat that sift between his perky pecs so mouthwateringly.
“F-fuuuuck-” Gojo’s hissing, brows scrunching together like he couldn’t even believe what he was seeing. “You jus’ got ngh- wetter. S-so much wetter…”
It’s said like a prayer. 
Like a plea because your cunt was driving Gojo crazy.
“It’s all because of ah- you–” You squirm at the way that these were the words tumbling from your mouth. And you already know that Gojo was about to tease you for this for the next few years - if he even remembered, that is. 
Because just about the only thing that he can do right now is twirl the edges of his fingers over your winking hole. Once. Twice. Before feeding you inch by long inch of his middle finger - in your lusty haze you think you manage to count about six inches from his staggering size. 
And it only had you imagining his size down below. 
“Don’t squeeze around m-me- fuck who am I kidding-” Gojo’s sleazy pumps of his hand has your cunt slobbering all down to his working wrist. Adding in one more, two. “-drool all over me- make a mess- hah- fuckin’ ruin me.” Mouth bumbling a mile a minute when his drives build up sloppily, swiveling around your gummy walls to nudge over all your tenderized sweet spots. “Yeah- heh- yeah suck me up like that. S-such a slutty girl, aren’t ya?”
“S-stop being so-”
So what?
Talkative with your cunt? So greedy when he shovels his face back in between your tottering thighs? So heated when he utters. Like a death sentence. All that he could. “I-I can’t stop- do you know how long I’ve ah- imagined this? Dreamt of this?”
Your palm constrict on his silky strands and Gojo’s so pliant when he lets himself be rummaged even deeper against your pussy. So ready to be used. “Th-think I like you better when you ngh- shut up–”
And even through it all, Gojo finds it in himself to roll his eyes - though, you think it’s a way to disguise the way he’s agonizingly swimming in euphoria more than anything. Chuckling out wetly, “Th-think I like it better when you’re ah- actually on m’tongue and n-not jus’ in my fuck- dreams when I have my cock in hand.”
Shit.
He’s so shameless. 
Fingers jackhammering in and out in and out in and out- 
“Where is it-” he’s spitting out into your squirming pussy, the lower half of your body being pinned to the mattress with one of his strong arms. You’re feeling the way his biceps bulge against your skin. Getting faster. Faster. “-where is it where is it where-” 
“What are you even ngh- looking for, Toru?” you’re crying out - it was all so much now. So close. 
But the only answer you get are your ankles being tugged to wrap around Gojo’s fervent head, pinned with one hand behind his back. “Lock it.” Keeping you held there until the ends of your feet knot as vice-like as possible to mash his face into your drooling cunt. 
Gojo wraps his rose pink lips around your weepy clit and sucks through furrowed brows when his thorough digits surge upwards at a bruising pace into a bulbous magical spot. That spot. 
“Found it.”
And you find yourself cumming with such a loud yelp of Gojo’s name - throat rubbing sore with every peak of your high. Your orgasm crashes into you over and over as he laps up every bead, every splatter, every drop that you’re giving. 
And he’s still parched. 
Spitting out a wet slew of saliva into your quavering hole, Gojo’s making such a mess of you. Absolutely ruined when he sucks up every wet smear that waterfalls from your cute cunt - so thirsty. 
It’s only when your high has died down to a few tingles, when your limbs twitch with overstimulation, that Gojo finds himself pulling away. His lips stinging rawly, nose slicked and dripping with your sweet, sweet juices - you’re hearing the most pained grunt from between your legs as he pulls away.
It hurt him to.
“Oh, w-would ya look at that—”
You weren’t sure if you trusted him enough to look - already knowing that whatever it was would have your mind reeling.
But how could you not when Gojo’s fat fingertips squeeze your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, opening your glazed mouth just wide enough for him to salivate. A thick wad of spit hitting your lolling tastebuds, his thumb swipes over the stray slops that’d made their home on the corner of your slack jaw. 
He grins, “I said look, sweetheart…”
Groaning, your eyes blink downwards - and you weren’t even sure what you were witnessing at first. Not even sure if you were daydreaming - because Gojo had his black dress pants unbuttoned. Shoved down until his thick, milky thighs just enough for you to witness his massive length.
Yeah, his fingers were definitely an indicator of something.
Because Gojo was so big that you felt nervous. His length swollen and thickened to an incredible girth. All pretty with a red, rotund ruby tip that blushes a cute strawberry pink all the way down, down, down until neatly trimmed tufts of white at his base. Saddling his tight, hefty balls that looked much too heavy.
He made your mouth water. 
But that wasn’t all - no, what really catches your eye and snaps you from your orgasmic haze and into a half-lucid state were the creamy rings upon rings that laminated his shaft. Frosting-like dredges of cum sliding lazily down his angry cock, spurting out a few more from his weepy divot at the very end at your unwavering attention. Did he-
“Yes.” Gojo gasps out in a condensed puff, his voice sugary and embarrassed. Shit, did you just say that out loud? “I-I came just from…you’re just so-” 
Damn, he curses his stupidly babbling mouth. So drunk on you that he can’t voice all the sinful thoughts sprinting through his melty head right now - all the thoughts that have been already for years now. 
It was impossible - even for his big fat mouth.
So without another word, Gojo tuts as he’s rolling his shoulders as if on instinct to pop a few joints; in one, fluid motion your body is being sidled into such an easy princess carry. 
Patting you down right into the cushiony middle of the bed, he looms over you - stalks over to you. And you can’t deny that the absolutely feral smile twisting his features makes your cunt twitch. 
“Too many clothes.” Gojo tugs on your dress - that darkened glint in his eyes not boding well for you or-
RIP!
-for this dress.
At the sight of your jaw dropping in adorable surprise, he chuckles out a rough, “Don’t worry- I’ll buy ya that again. I’ll buy ya the ngh- whole fuckin’ store jus–” And oh with a few masterful flicks of his fingers on your bra, you’re left in nothing underneath him. Nothing to hide your perfect body away from the way he was fucking you with his half-lidded eyes. “-just let me f-fuck this cute cunt, please?”
It takes you a few sloppy seconds of Gojo nibbling down your neck for you to realize that he’s waiting for you. For anything. 
Huffing, your shaky fingers clench around the glaringly open lapels of his button-up. “S’unfair th-that you’re the only one in clothes-”
And, well, who was Gojo Satoru against you?
You’re demandingly helping him shrug off that branded shirt, buttons hitting the ground, his pants hitting the floor-
“Whoops.” Gojo grins sheepishly when his pants and those tight boxers collapse onto the floor in a tatter of fabric and your panties. “Jus’ consider it a uh- birthday gift, pretty–”
No longer having his flaps of fabric to reel him in by, your fingernails dig neat little patterns of crescents on his heated skin as you drag him down to you. Heady breaths mingling with one another, “You said no gifts, remember? If you ngh- really want those panties- y-you’re gonna hafta earn it, Toru.”
And earn it he will. 
Because as soon as the bulging spherical shape of his fat head swipes a sopping kiss down your pussy lips, you feel yourself already moan. He was so hot. 
Already so pussydrunken when he says, “Hope ya don’t mind–” Teeth sinking into your tender earlobe, “-this is my first time.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
You barely even have the mindpower to register those words before you’re being split apart - gasping at the almost-unnatural feeling of being so thoroughly full. Of having our steamingly hot insides being fucked open with just the simple tip of Gojo’s staggering cock. 
“C’mon- c’mon–” He’s lunging up in slow, mindless gyrations trying to force his thick length inside. Powerful arms keeping your wrangling legs spanned wide open for him, they barely even let you budge. Biting down on his lip in frustration, “F-fit inside- shit, your pussy’s so tight, sweetheart– s’it too big for you?”
Stubbornly, “No-”
And Gojo only has to glissade the curves of his palm down to that inflationary nudge of where he was drilling into your cunt. “No?” 
“...no.”
Pressing down. Hard. “No?”
“Fuck- yes- you’re just too big-” And you meant it as a complaint - you really did. But those words only have every ounce of blood remaining in Gojo’s shivering body galloping down to his gluttonous cock. Pushing at the seams to make him expand even fatter, bigger- “Why are you getting bigger?”
Shit, you really needed to watch that mouth of yours. 
Because it has Gojo’s hulking body falling onto two elbows on either side of your head, like a heavenly cage you didn’t ever want to get out of. 
Sweat-simmered forehead bumping into yours, you feel his large fingers interlace dangerously on top of your head. “You need to-” He’s crashing his lips against yours in such a filthy open-mouthed kiss. “-s-stop talkin’ outta ya ngh- pussy. Leave that to her.”
Her. 
And you’re so utterly distracted by all his little ministrations that you didn’t even realize the way he was snugly fitting himself into your cunt. 
The stretch is impeccable when it hits you like a train at full speed, feeling the tiny nooks and crannies of your magical spots being brushed up against the thrumming upright curve of Gojo’s cock. He’s leaving no millimeter of your elastic walls unturned, unstretched. Untainted. 
Gushing out a sweltering hot wave of buttery pre that sloshes all the way against your womb. “Oh- oh what the fuck-” Gojo hisses, chest heaving. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered if he was in pain. “-what the fuck- th-this is what you feel like?”
Right - shit. In all the chaos, you’d forgotten those words he’d confessed just earlier - Gojo Satoru was a virgin. Because of course, he was. Don’t make him laugh, who else would he have ever wanted to see him like this other than you? 
A virgin that was currently pacing his slender hips back and forth to instrument the most syrupy squelches from the very gooey bottom of your cunt. His drooling mouth spreading wider and wider with every sultry half-thrust. 
You mewl, “H-how does it feel, Satoru?”
“I-I feels so- so–” But the words are failing him - the words are escaping him with every gummy squeeze of your walls like you wanted to swallow down more and more of his solid inches. And hand on your hips swirls your hips around ever-so-slightly to feel his sobbing tip paint tiny circles of gluey precum inside you. Gojo snaps his eyes open - wild. “-is it even l-legal to have ya cunt feel this good, sweetheart? This- oh! Heavenly?”
And he was sounding genuinely concerned. Genuinely worried for his sanity once Gojo manages to feed your needy cunt all of his length. 
Now in.
Fully.
And it feels too good - too blissful to have almost every single prayer in his life finally answered that Gojo can’t help but scrunch his eyes shut and cum.
Loudly. Pathetically. 
One hand dancing downwards to give your plump clit a punishing little squeeze as if it was your fault. The other curling around your throat to have you meshing your mouth with his panting one, you can feel it in the vibrations how his voice cracks at the very same second your gooey cunt is filled with such copious dumps of his seed.
There’s so much. 
As if he’s cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life, every splatter of stifling hot cum managing to paint the bullseye of your g-spot in pure white. Ounces of his seed creaming around his hefty base, it smears and slide around your thighs as Gojo continues to fuck you into the mattress. Pound after pound that make him see overstimulated stars. 
And it makes Gojo giggle - giggle - head lolling deliriously into the crook of your neck, now covered in a slather of his drool. Every slow ram into your splurging cunt has him grunting out the tiniest ah! ah! ah! 
“Shit- fuckin’ embarrassing-” You hear him groan into your neck, licking a languid column from his tongue before biting. Hard. Hard enough that you’re wondering whether he’d draw blood, “Can ya believe- s-saved my virginity for the ngh- girl of my dreams n’ m’cumming already~?”
He leaves a few final pecks against your lips, “Th-this pussy’s got me too haaaah- addicted, pretty–” As he’s moving to part sloppy ways, you’re gasping at the splatter! of something warm. Wet. And only then do you register the literal tears crinkling at his eyes from overstimulation. Crying. 
“A-are you okay– Satoru?” You’re whining, limp fingers skimming away the strands of white that cling to his prespired forehead. 
“No.” Comes the answer, comes the heaving gasp when Gojo’s fatigued limbs force themselves through his trembling muscles to heave back upright. “One m-more. That was a practice run.” Throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, you feel his flexing deltoids underneath you when Gojo brings one ankle up to his mouth and kisses. Muttering - more to himself than anything. “B-but m’gonna make y’feel good- oh- fuck- m’gonna make you t-take this big cock.”
His words have you just as stupidly fucked as his fat shaft does. 
Those lightning bolts of his veins thump down the upperside of your goopy channel, massaging your sweet spots over and over and-
“Th-think it was here-” Gojo’s palms feel everywhere and anywhere down your tummy for the vicious back and forth of him inside you. To feel that bulging opening, the way your snug channel clenches every time his bouncy tip recoils back from your cervix. Wanting more more more- “-or w-was it- here.”
“Fuck!” The entire expanse of your spine arches off of those thoroughly and filthily dampened sheets now, meshing up sluttily into Gojo’s body until his prespiry-glossed abs cushion your front, plush pecs so comfortably collapsing on top of you. “There- there there hngh- more-”
“More-” Gojo chuckles, hitting that precious spot over and over. His chubby head mashes in slurping soppy collisions until he was out of breath. Dizzy. “More she says- Greedy girl, wh-when you have me already ngh- dripping out of you. Shit- squeezin’ me so. Oh-”
And his vigorous fingers scoop up such lecherous volumes of his own milky cum, toying with the gushing waves of white your poor pussy leaks with every pound. 
He’s bullying them between your lips - cerulean eyes dilating, mouth sagging unsealed when you eagerly suck on his digits. Tasting his candied self, tasting you. Somehow managing to muffle out, “M-m’not greedy.”
Gojo can only grin, “S-say that to me when this oh- cunt of yours isn’t sucking the fuckin’ soul outta me.”
And Gojo would love to tease you more for this - to mouth away for hours on end into your ear about how drenched you were getting and muse out loud whether you’d dreamt of this just as much as he has, too. 
But instead, he’s pecking a flurry of lovely kisses all down your face. Gasping into your lips, “M-move that pretty hand f’me-” So rudely swatting those fingers of yours that’d snuck their way down to toy with your neglected clit, Gojo’s taking over himself to rub steady, methodical circles. Thumb peeking pressure on the hood of your clit just the way he’d read online. “-I’ve always w-wanted to ah- do this. To fuck you raw. T-to ruin you and ngh- fill you up-” As his words spill, so do a few ropey wads of pre. More. Frequent. “-a-and eat you out all over again. See how you taste like mine…”
“Y-you’re gonna-” You can’t even bring yourself to say it. “Again?”
“Of course, sweetheart- why? Scared I- oh.”
That’s when he does it - the mistake of peering his barely-open eyes down.
His weightily smacking balls that smooch against your ass with each thrust clench oh-so-painfully at the vision of your puffed-up pussy lips gaping around him. Drooling. Swallowing. Accommodating his ruthless cock for all you can, practically broken in half and still yearning for more.
Shit, the sight’s so hypnotic that Gojo doesn’t even realize when he’s letting his thoroughly overwhelmed body lock into yours like a puzzle piece. So hefty and sculpted. 
His abs practically melting into your body, and his sloppy hips pistoning into you even deeper. Harsher. Every raring grind of Gojo’s lengthy shaft probes into your g-spot so hard. Like he wanted to leave widely battered bruises of his circumference on your sweetened spots, your cervix, anywhere and everywhere he could reach. Like he couldn’t stop. 
Doesn’t even know the very word right about now in this filthy, filthy mating press. “C’mon- c’mon one more for ah- luck?” Whimpering, “My sweetheart, I-I’m gonna-”
Gojo sees white when he cums once more this night - and you do, too. 
You’re not sure if it’s because of the violent streaks of electricity that run down your entire body, or because of the treacly spurts of cum that overspill from your poor cunt. But fuck- did it feel so good. 
Your entire body tingles all the way down from your toes up to your bleary head - and the entire room feels like it’s fucking spinning at this point. 
Black tinging your vision with ever overfilling thwack! of Gojo’s tight, cum-filled balls as they empty out, out, out into your depths. It’s coating your insides like a sticky second skin, leaving stringy drizzles of seed seeping from between your slit. Adding to the ever-growing puddle before. 
You’re feeling it swashing around you with every drivel of his hips. Overstuffing your elastic walls until you felt like they were about to burst. 
And all you can do is simply grapple your nails into the bulging muscles on Gojo’s back, whimpering out a broken, “T-Toru–”
“M’here I-I’m here–” Yet his voice sounds airy, hitching like he was on cloud nine. A beefy arm wraps around your body and manhandles you close to him like some sort of ragdoll, “M’here- shit-” His lips graze against yours in what you assume must be a kiss, too oversensitive to even perk his head up and peck you senseless like you knew he wanted to. “Never lettin’ ya go- haaah- never- ah-”
Whatever promises Gojo always imagined whispering into your ear can be said and done later. 
Right now, the only thing he can streamline his body into doing for him is to search blindly for his discarded pants by the side of the bed. Searching for that bulge in the back pocket- no, not the panties he’d swiped right in front of you - instead, he’s feeling for the shape of his wallet. 
Pulling your tired body back into his, Gojo’s carding it lazily open to show you that. 
Exactly what they were talking about.
Splayed out proudly in the front and center of his wallet was a picture of the two of you. Years and years ago exactly on this date, the aged photograph showed a smiling Gojo Satoru in front of a candlelit birthday cake, tiny cheeks all pinkened. A small, surly you standing by his side - eyeing his Digimon hat more than you were eyeing the camera. 
But that didn’t matter, because Gojo wasn’t looking at the camera, either. 
He was looking at you - exactly the way he was right now.
Glowy eyes half-lidded, a mysterious little smile playing on his lips. Gojo nuzzles his face against yours and breathes out a tiny, “I…I might have loved you ever since then, y’know that?”
You’re gasping, eyes shining with…something. And Gojo’s heart stutters as he wants to find out. Wringing your hands to wrap around his broad chest, you’re coiling your legs together until you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts. 
Whispering three lovely words into his ear - and three more into the honeyed  air. 
“Happy birthday, Satoru.”
---
Gojo’s one wish was to wake up next to you - like this. Under soft blankets, with your sleepy breath puffing softly into his collarbone, your body tucked safely into his. 
And he never wants to let go - could never even dream of anything that could ruin this precious moment-
“Mind explaining who ordered wedding decor last night on MY account?”
Ah, that would do it. 
Bleary blue eyes wrench open, taking Gojo every shred of will in his body to not jolt at the unwelcome greeting of Shoko peering down at him…while he was all wrapped up with his best friend’s sister in a bedroom that could almost be mistaken for a crime scene. 
Would it really be too late of a birthday wish to hope that she hadn’t noticed your tattered clothes on the floor, the ruined state of the sheets, and the way that the bedframe sagged suspiciously on one side?
Gulping, he’s pressing your body even tighter into his, careful not to let you stir - well, at least it couldn’t get worse than this-
Footsteps.��
Close.
And an unmistakable few voices - and laughter. “Is that my sist- SATORU, YOU BASTARD-”
“Eugh.”
“WHAT did you blackmail her with?”
“Woahhh- congratulations on your relationship!”
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A/N. Lowkey has the spirit of a crackfic, I fear. This was SAUR fun.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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moonlitwitchdaisy · 7 days ago
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Gift Ribbon
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“suguru—fuckkk…” the words slipped past your lips as you rode your fiancé’s massive cock, blindfolded and with your hands tied.
“sssshh, baby. you wouldn’t want to wake the girls, would you?”
oh no, you definitely wouldn’t. having the girls catch you—their soon-to-be mother—and their father in such a filthy, compromising position was definitely not part of the plan.
“but—but…” the sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, and once again, you questioned how you’d ended up like this. yet every time suguru’s cock hit that sensitive, pleasure-filled spot inside you, all your thoughts evaporated.
god, it felt so good.
you had always welcomed your fiancé’s cock with greedy enthusiasm. the way your warm, snug walls clenched around his cock made it impossible not to surrender yourself as his little plaything, eager to do anything he wanted.
“s-shit…” suguru leaned his head back, groaning. “just like that, baby. ride my cock so hard that tomorrow morning—ugh—every step you take reminds you of this moment.” his head lolled against the back of the couch, one hand moving to toy with your sensitive nipple.
this was torture. exquisite, mind-numbing torture. with your hands bound and your vision stolen, you were utterly at his mercy, drunk on the way his massive cock stretched you open. and the way he pinched and played with your nipple only heightened the intoxicating pleasure.
“sugu—baby…” your head tilted back as a loud moan spilled from your lips. you had no strength left to keep going. your hips had been rolling against his cock with quick, rhythmic movements, but the effort was taking its toll.
“oh, is my baby getting tired?” his teasing drawl sent a flood of heat to your cheeks, and you cursed softly under your breath.
his large fingers were still playing with your nipple, alternating between gentle strokes and firm squeezes. sometimes, he’d roll it between his fingers, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
he was entirely in control.
“guess I can’t let my fiancée wear herself out, huh?” in one smooth motion, suguru pulled you flush against his chest, the hand that had been tormenting your nipple now gripping your waist. he started thrusting into you, deep and hard.
his pace was relentless, his thick cock filling you up in a way that made you want to melt into him forever. the soft, velvety tip kept brushing against your g-spot with every thrust, making you wish you could stay like this—utterly wrecked and ruined by him. but the need to keep quiet gnawed at the back of your mind. if you got too loud, the girls might wake up. so, desperate to muffle your moans, you bit into his left shoulder.
“fuckin’ feral girl… hah, you know that only turns me on more, don’t you?” one of his hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling your head up from his shoulder. his lips crashed onto yours in a bruising, desperate kiss.
there was nothing gentle about it. suguru’s tongue invaded your mouth, his kisses hungry and wild, claiming every inch of you. you wanted to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer, but your hands were still bound behind you.
even as his lips devoured yours, his hips never faltered. each deep, rough thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, his cock pushing deeper, harder. the slick mix of his precum and your arousal dripped down your thighs, evidence of how completely he owned you in this moment.
suguru geto always fucked you like he worshipped every inch of you.
when he finally broke away from the kiss, gasping for air, you managed to stammer, “you’re too fast… c-can you just slow—”
“slow down? not a chance, baby. I know you’re close. fuck—this pussy is going to be the death of me… FUCK.” he yanked you tighter against him, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, his growls vibrating through your skin. his hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you with a feral intensity.
“come for me—fuck—come all over my cock, baby… OH GOD—” his voice broke into a guttural groan as you felt his thick, hot release flood you. the warmth of it sent you over the edge, your walls clamping down around him as you came with a cry muffled against his shoulder.
neither of you moved, both of you panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. his cock remained buried inside you, still twitching slightly as the aftershocks ran through both of your bodies. your hands were still bound, your vision stolen by the blindfold, leaving you completely at his mercy.
pressing his lips softly to your ear, he whispered, his voice low and rough, “merry christmas, my soon-to-be wife.” his fingers brushed over the silky ribbon tying your wrists, the same one he’d used to bind his favorite present of the night—you.
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all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
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dawnwriterimagines · 6 months ago
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Traitors Among Us
SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x Fem!Reader Task Force 141 x Fem!Reader (Platonic)
PART 2
Part Three: The Guilty Plea
Part Four: The Verdict Due
Summary: You're a rat, a traitor. At least that's what Task Force 141 believes due to the evidence and claims scattered against you. It doesn't matter what you say, everyone's against you, ready to end you for it...until the truth comes out.
Warning(s): Torture, Heavy Angst, etc.
If you liked this would you Buy my a Coffee?
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---
Drip.
Drip..
Drip...
Your shoulders seize up involuntarily as freezing droplets continue to hit your skin, eyes squeezed shut to try to ignore the sound that had been going on for who knows how long.
Another drop of water hits your spine from the faucet placed above you, it's cold as it runs down your bare skin. It feels like ice. Hitting the same spot over and over and over...
Drip...
Not even able to take a deep breath, you release a strained cry, it can hardly leave you, not that you hadn't cried enough already. You could feel the dried blood, tears and snot still on your face and a testament to your torment. You haven't been able to get the metallic taste of your blood of of your mouth since you got in here.
You breathe slowly, trying to relieve the pain in your chest. Body positioned downwards, chest pressed down to your knees, a leather buckle holds you down and over a metal stool. Wrists torn open by old shackles and stretched upwards to connect to the steel pipe in the middle of the room.
The stress position had been Johnny's idea, putting you in it to begin with. The bastard...
Kyle had been in and out to collaborate with Price on the interrogation, he didn't have the heart to do you any harm like his Captain. But, that didn't stop him from stomaching your screams as he turned the handle up, piercing cold crashing down atop you, it beats down on your back, by the time it's done your shaking, and your skin a bruising purple hue. It goes on like that for hours, even as you beg. He reads you the files again.
Price would then take the baton from the corner of the room, the side of your face already swollen from the last strike, you were seeing red out of your left eye and soon you wouldn't be able to see out of it if the swelling continued.
"Please..." you shivered, miserably.
"Over in a jiff, love, but i need somethin' from you, you know that." Was his reply, he tapped the baton against the metal below you, the reverb makes you jump each time, leaving you to stare at it as you watched his boots walk around you.
"Cap'n, It's not...It's not--me..." you tried, breathless. "I'd never.."
The steel baton came down on your shoulder, first. There was an immediate response from your constricted muscles, limbs that had all tensed up at once despite their numbness. Pulling at the shackles that kept you in place, the hit shocks you, nearly silencing you completely, it hurts, then it burns. Mouth open in a silent scream, you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to block out the pain that crawled through your shoulder. "It's not me!"
You've been suffering from hypothermia for a few days since then. Your shoulder crushed right out of place or just plain broken, you weren't sure. It's not like you could feel much of your arms in this position.
It hurt. Not just the painful strain that this position was currently putting on your muscles, but everything else...
Of course, you've handled torture alike this before. Captured and tortured by enemies, ransomed for pay and fought tooth and nail to live, then found your way from that hell...only for the men who you'd kill for, to do the same thing to you with no remorse.
In the quiet of the empty room, you sobbed in agony. Squeezing your fists, but you couldn't even feel them, as far as you knew your fingers could only twitch in response to your demand.
You weren't sure what you were doing here.
Well, you knew. There was a mole, all evidence pointing to you, whatever it was had completely stunted their mission earlier in the week, left them hiding in a safe house for days until they were picked up by evac. Apparently, you'd leaked mission details to some hostiles over seas, you weren't sure which ones, they were hoping you could tell them. You had absolutely nothing, lost.
Of course, they didn't believe you. Although you expected to have at least a sliver of trust, someone to speak up against these claims and believe you...
It must've been too much to ask.
It came out of nowhere, at first you had been in bed with Simon, your fucking Fiancé, then that meeting with Price, then just...they'd cornered you in that room. Knocked you out without even an explanation, woke you up strapped down, confused, stripped of your uniform and feral as you demanded answers. Nobody listened to you.
That first night you thought you were gonna die. The second night you thought you had. The third night you were just convinced this was your hell.
You were soaked to the bone, and unable to stop shivering. The only sound you could hear was your own chattering teeth in this never-ending void of darkness.
It was so fucking dark in here, your eyes darting around to every corner, hoping for even a measly crack of light that your eyes could adjust to. Every sound, scratch, scrape or click made you jump, you couldn't see shit in here, so just about everything made you hyper aware. You couldn't help your anxiety as the sound of the faucet, the constant drops against your spine, the jingle of your shackles and the whimpers that echoed against the walls as you struggled to comfortably breathe. Maybe it was the thought of a mouse crawling up the stool and along your skin, or someone in here just staring at you in the corner, or the door finally opening for Price to start slicing into you demanding answers you didn't have.
You were on the cusp of losing your mind. If you hadn't already.
But it's been a few hours since then...
Maybe even a few days...
It could even have been a week.
You weren't too sure.
Simon had been the last one in here. He'd pulled the strap loose around your neck, hauling you up to an upright position by your jaw, eliciting a whimper from your lips. Able to breathe a bit easier, your lungs finally decompressing and you gulp down air greedily, "Simon..." this had been the first time you'd seen him since. He wears his balaclava, he is Ghost, not your Simon Riley.
As your bloodshot, swollen eyes raise to look into his cold ones, so unfeeling. You hadn't even realized you were so hopeful for his trust in you until then, looking at you like you were absolutely nothing to him, the same look he always had before pulling the trigger. "Simon, please, stop this..." your words slurred by your shivering, exhausted. "You know me...please."
Your tears slide over the leather of his gloved hands, while he holds tight to your face and cuts your pleads short with a painful squeeze. "Shut up," he says. His eyes are blank, but his voice is low and seething. "Shut the fuck up!" Simon harshly grits out to you, jostling you harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut, weeping miserably, throat closing up to your agony.
He had to know that you would've never done this to him. He should've known that. Given you the benefit of the doubt at least. You'd have never done this to him...
"I'm sorr-" you try, he squeezes harder to silence you swiftly, and snatches a tiny bowl off the tray he'd brought in. Raising your jaw a bit higher, he pours down a chunky broth into your mouth, letting it all just fall down to your throat. It's disgusting. He doesn't ease up for even a second as you toss and turn your head to breathe.
"Don't say a fucking word," he seethes, his hand enveloping your neck and keeping your head raised upward. "As if I should believe you..."
He then takes the next cup to do the same, your eyes bloodshot wide and you jerk away from him as you choke, unable to stomach anything, but he doesn't let you. This time you inhale accidentally, blocking your airway, eyes watering as you writhe for oxygen, your shackles clang violently as you attempt to retaliate, the first fight you've put up in days. His grip doesn't let up, even as you struggle and start to vomit up whatever he decided to shove down your throat.
When he finally lets go, you curve over and heave up whatever's left in your mouth, hyperventilating as you empty your guts on the floor. Hacking up whatever you can, it hurts, your throat burning from the sobs that leave you in between coughs. "If you love me, if you--ever had--" you spat at him. You'd given him everything, every part of yourself, nearly given him your life in the battlefield, and yet...it wasn't enough. "You would fucking believe me!" your voice cracks with the effort it takes to scream at him, to curse him to hell.
"My trust? That's what you want," Hollow eyes stare back at you, his attention flickering around to the uncomfortable shift of your shoulders in those cuffs. Your swollen left eye that had been hit so hard, the white of it had filled with blood. The black and blue littering your sides and your spine, the loss of color in your skin from the stress position and the cold that had you uncontrollably shivering. "You've had it before. You must've sold that to them too."
Your head drops to the stool again, releasing a heavy breath. "It wasn't worth much, if it was so easy to lose..."
Usually it's not very easy to set Simon off, you've known him always to be quite mellow, besides the barely concealed rage he had settled in his chest since you've known him. But, today, you were an exception.
Fisting a hand in your hair, Simon yanks at it, pulling you upwards for your to face him. His other hand coming up to wrap around your throat before your tortured scream can even manifest. In that moment, it feels as if he'd snapped your spine in half, having not used the muscles to stretch that area in over a week. Your shackled wrists shifting in the cruel position.
His eyes are wild and rageful, the balaclava that covers him twists just the same, his grip very telling to his violence as he squeezes down any chance at air or even a sentence. "Easy to lose..." he repeats, spitting in your face as he strangles you. "Easy t'lose your life! If you don't tell me the fucking truth," he pulls out the knife you'd seen him slit so many throats with before, you hear the familiar sound of it first then its cold steel pressing into the side of your ribs. "I'm gonna carve out your heart, and I'll take it real slow, let you feel every little thing I do to you in here," he shakes you harshly as a startled cry escapes you, your tears are burning hot against your cheeks. "You don't get to cry. Or whine. Or beg!"
"Stop--" you try to squirm away from him, to get as far away as possible, from this place, from this moment.
"Just tell me the truth," Simon's face twisted in agony, for just a second, his thumb drags along your jaw, meaningfully. "You'd be doing us both a favor..."
As his vast hand finally loosed around your neck just enough to hold you up, awaiting the bitter truth. Simon's knife catches on the protrusion of your ribs, nicking the skin, drawing blood on purpose. You stare up at the ceiling, the flickering old lights, the dripping faucet that's tormented your already fragile state for weeks now. "The truth..." you spoke, hoarsely. "You've all shown me...it doesn't matter to you. If it ever... Believe what you want--" you close your eyes, you're exhausted. Sleep had evaded you for days. "You and your truth and this team, you can all go to hell."
And finally he lets you go, letting your fall forwards, unable to find the relief of a cold floor but back to the strenuous position you'd been placed in. "AH!" nearly popping your shoulders out of place, or maybe they had, you bite down on your tongue, shaking in silence.
If you could see Simon's face, you could've relished in the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, the sudden doubt that led his knife back in its holder and his nails to bite into the flesh of his palms. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing leaves him, instead he stands there.
You can't say a thing to him now, everything that's happened was just a little reminder that whatever you said, whatever you did, it didn't matter. Their minds had already been made. You really would die here.
Simon stands there a little longer, he doesn't say anything, you're not sure if he stays there to watch your suffering a little longer or to wait to say another heart-wrenching thing. Maybe he's just there to wait for you to die. But, he just watches as you wretch and cry in a ball atop that stool.
He leaves not long after, he didn't bother to strap you down this time. He left the old light on, but it must've been older than you thought.
The single bulb fizzled out completely hours ago. Not unless one of them decided to cut the silence and turn on the light to start another 'questioning', so suddenly being able to see more than darkness wasn't anything to be excited about.
They'd leave you in the dark until then, to await the next moment any of them would grace you with their presence.
To be honest, you'd imagined you'd be stronger than this. But, there was nothing to hold onto, so what did strength matter?
It was too late anyway.
They'd broken you days ago.
---
The truth had come out, two days later.
"Oh god..."
"Oh my fucking God," Simon rushed down the corridor, Price tailing right behind him. "Oh my God!" his normal monotone voice now a mess of fear and panic, breathing harsher, on the cusp of hyperventilating with every stride as he ran faster than he ever had in his life.
Finally getting to the interrogation wing of the department, he bangs his fist on the plexiglass of those silently monitoring the rooms, "Open the fucking door!" he's buzzed in before he can pull on the handle another time.
Rushing down the hall to the now green lit room, lights flickering to life with every step closer down the hall of empty rooms. He nearly rips the door off its hinges as he bursts inside, the lights of the your tiny prison don't come to life as they should. Light spilling into the cell, to hit your limp figure first.
He doesn't deserve to say your name. "(Y/n)," Simon rushes over, to his knees instantly. A puddle of vomit, water and spoiled broth soaks through his uniform.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," he sobs out his mistakes, unhooking your chains and cutting through your buckles as fast as he could. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" he catches his fiancé as you collapse, turning over and off the stool, your legs having lost all sense of feeling. You fall into his arms, catching you carefully. "Price!" he cries out, desperately.
"They're on the way!" Your captain assures, he sees the medical team rushing down the hallway, a stretcher, a box of medical supplies. Christ.
You're freezing to the touch, your skin a hue of blue, not to mention the bruises, the cuts and the swollen areas throughout your face and spine. You suddenly inhale, sharply, coughing terribly. You're sick, breathing shakily, "Simon...?" you breathe, confused. You can't see. Your eyes swollen shut from your torture at their hands.
"It's me, it's me," Simon assured, although he knew it probably brought you no comfort. He snatches the blanket offered up by Price, your captain a mess of himself, holding himself together at the doorway, nails biting into the steel.
As Simon wraps you in the first glimpse of warmth you've had in days, you ease up a bit, fingers twitching upwards to pull the threads closer around yourself. "It wasn't..." you shiver, Simon listens intently as he rises with you in his arms, running off to meet the medical team halfway. "It wasn't me..." you gasp out. "It wasn't..."
Simon can't say a thing as he hears your tormented voice stutter in fear of him, lips pressed tight together, heart sinking and as the nurses take your body, he collapses to his knees.
Part 2
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welovelouisandbucky · 2 months ago
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You don't say it back
Summary: you prank your boyfriend by not saying "I love you" back, while he's getting late for quidditch practice.
Warnings: Fluff. Kissing (insert scandalised face) Few suggestive moments? Out of character stuff mayne? Seriously, none on this one, lol. Well, of course my writing, as usual. Not proof read.
S/n: positive criticism is appreciated as always. As well as any form of feedbacks, likes, comments or rebloggs. And be kind you guys, this is a safe place for everyone. Enjoy!!
Masterlist
Mattheo Riddle (with Hufflepuff!reader)
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It was stupid and ridiculous.
You were just curious of his reaction, that is all.
You heard your friends' talking about doing this to their boyfriends for shits and giggles. At first, you hated the idea of tormenting your significant other for fun, then curiosity consumed your mind for weeks.
Now it seemed like a fun idea to prank your boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle.
You thought it was a perfect way to get back at your boyfriend for teasing you last week in The Great Hall. In your mind it was the perfect revenge.
So you made up your mind to put it into action as soon as you had the chance. Which was now, at his dorm room while he was about to leave for Quidditch practice with Theo.
You were excited as well as anxious for his reaction. Anticipation has been eating away your brain for days now and you were finally going to do it.
Mattheo came up to you and kissed your forehead as you remained sitted on his bed, with your books all splattered around before you.
"gimme a kiss, will you?" He grinned down at you, ignoring annoyed and impatient Theo by the door, who was urging him to hurry up as they were already late.
Smiling, you complied to his wish and kissed him. Without meaning to, you deepen the kiss, clinging onto him as if he's your life support, suddenly not feeling ready to send him off just yet. He seems to think the same way as he holds onto you tighter, kissing you more intensely, cupping your face with his one hand as the other roams down. You almost moan into his mouth when you hear someone gag.
"oi! Stop snogging her and hurry up!" Theo called, tapping his foot impatiently. Matthew rolled his eyes and winked at you before stepping back.
"'ight, love. We'll finish this later, yeah?" Mattheo smirked when you blushed under his gaze. He loves how's you blush at his every word, one of the reasons why he teases you a lot.
"Love you!" He said as he was about to leave with Theo. You just smiled and waved at the both of them. Physically restraining yourself from saying it back, you almost did, but you are glad you didn't as he stopped abruptly.
He looks back at you, expectedly.
You all but smiled up at him innocently. Your eyes never once betraying the guilt you are feeling inside, you just now realised how bad of a timing this is to do this prank, when he's clearly beyond late for his practice. Though, it's too late to go back now.
He clears his throat.
"uh, love? Aren't ya forgetting something?" He asks, his one brow raised in accusing manner. Mattheo steps inside the room again, completely ignoring the loud groan of his best mate ( who looks ready to hit Mattheo with his broomstick any second now ).
You don't reply, just look in his way with furrowed brows, feigning false confusion, which you can tell Mattheo saw right through.
"don't think so, no," you say. You pretend to think over it for couple of minutes before shrugging your head no. Mattheo huffs and rolls his eyes at you. Almost annoyed with you, as you're purposefully making him even more late to his practice.
"c'mon now, princess. Don't play stupid with me," he says impatiently. Not wanting make his team wait any longer on his account, just wanting to get over with that thing as soon as possible so he can come back and spend time with you again. But he can't do that unless he leaves and he's not leaving until you say "I love you" back, but judging by the look on your face, he knows he's not leaving any time soon.
"oh yeaahhhh, sorry, baby!" You giggle. And he smiles, thinking you finally got what he was saying.
"I forgot to wish you luck! Well, good luck with your practice, and have fun!" You tell him affectionately, your voice sugary sweet. You waved him bye again and blowed him a kiss.
Mattheo's hopeful expression falls, so does your heart.
"Y/n," he says, there's an edge to his voice, as well as a slight hint of hurt. Your heart breaks a little inside, regretting your stupid prank now as you look at him. He's standing in middle of the room, in his quidditch robes with his broomstick clutched tightly, his puppy brown eyes looking alarmingly sad.
You know how hard it was for him to express his feelings openly, it is still a struggle for him to express his emotions sometimes, you help him best as you can. And you're really proud of him, for how far along he had come since when you first met him. You curse at yourself mentally, just realising how stupid of an idea this was to began with.
"oh Mattheo," you softly say and go over to him. Wrapping your arms around him and he instantly holds you closer to him, you kiss him tenderly all over his face. "I'm so, so sorry, baby. I thought—i well, doesn't matter now. It was stupid anyways, I'm sorry. I love you." You say against his skin, feeling him tightening his hold, nudging his face deeper into your hair. You heard him sigh of relief, and relax into him.
"sorry, Mattheo. Please forgive me?" You ask, pulling back just a little to look at his face. He gives you one of his smiles which tells you're forgiven, you almost melt into a puddle at that.
"don't. ever. do that again, yeah?" He mumbles before kissing you. He doesn't have to tell you that anyway, since you're never attempting something like this ever again.
He leaves ghostly kisses against your skin, traveling from your lips to sensitive skin under your ear. His hand sliding down to your back, as you lock your arms around his neck.
"don't think you can get away with this so easily, love. We'll see about that forgiveness once I'm back from practice." He whispers darkly, and with one firm pat to your bum, he begins to leave once Theo clears his throat. Making his presence known, which you seemed to forget about completely.
"love you," he smirks your way before leaving with Theo, who looks as if he wants to dig himself into hole and never comeback, ever again.
You try to reply, but no words come out. Suddenly breathless.
You watch him leave with newfound excitement and anticipation burning through your body.
Maybe you're not forgiven afterall.
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(divider credits to the rightful owner @rypnami 🙏🏼)
A/n: annnnnnddddd I'm back!!!!! So sorry for disappearing again😭 I have some ideas that I'm currently working on, so hopefully I'll be able to post more content soon!! Yay!
And don't forget to comment or reblog.
Hope you enjoyed reading. Have a nice day!!!
Requests are open.
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chiscaralight · 3 months ago
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cw: nsfw sukuna x reader. this is built off of my college athlete!sukuna au.
“hey, i thought you were good at this game. you’re pretty shit huh?”
“shut u-up, s’kuna!”
his laugh is heavy, vibrating all throughout his body, even right into his cock that’s nestled deep in your cunt. your now-boyfriend has you bent over the backrest of the couch, feet practically hanging off the ground as he holds you tight, pounding into you ever so slowly as you try to concentrate on your game.
he’s right about the first part, you’re generally really good at this game, climbing tanks with speed whenever a new season starts. but he’s fucking up your momentum now, unable to give you just a half hour to get a few rounds in before he gets a few rounds in. he decides it’s his way or the highway though. after all, you’re the one that promised that if his team won their next match he could do anything he wanted to you. he took your words very seriously because he’s been tormenting you about it all day!
and sukuna’s cock is incredibly huge, stretching you out a stupid amount while you weakly attempt to focus your eyes on the screen. but you’re getting cross-eyed from how deep his strokes are hitting, biting down so harshly on your lip to keep your moans in and not give him the satisfaction that he wants.
unfortunately, your boyfriend is a greedy man, and he wants everything about you, including your voice. he hates to admit it, but one of the major reasons he kept coming back to you is because of your saccharine voice. you could be talking about the nerdiest thing, droning on and on about how you enjoy a specific mechanic of a game or how dumb an ending was, but it’s the way you sound, how the melody dripping from your lips has his pants tightening with an insane speed. but you want to keep that away from him? no way in hell is he going to allow that.
and his body mass and power far exceeds yours, because his strong hand is gripping your face and raising your entire upper body from the position you were leaned down in. his fingers press into your cheeks hard and your mouth involuntarily opens, right before he delivers a particulate hard thrust that has your controller hitting the ground with a loud crash, but a long, drawn-out moan following almost immediately after.
there it is. that’s what he’s looking for. your pretty eyes are squeezed shut, fingers gripping at the fabric of the couch cushion that’s being rested upon. your breathing is so labored, legs twitching as you brace yourself for impact. but it never comes. you’re waiting, but he’s waiting for something too.
“s’kuna, come onnn. move, please.”
“oh, you finally have time for me now? what about your little match?”
“sukuna.”
you’re rolling your eyes at the way you can feel him trying to hold back. he’s so annoying when he gets all cocky like this, knowing he has all the power over you right now. if it was any of the other people he used to mess around with, he’d have drawn it out much longer, have them beg hard, humiliate themselves just for an inch of pleasure. but you? he’s already scooping you into his arms, circling to the front of the couch, and shifting the coffee table on the rug with a single push of his leg.
the floor? and your thinking is correct because your back is colliding with the softness of the rug soon enough.
“what, am i not good enough for the couch anymore? and here i thought you liked me.”
“better watch that mouth before i leave you here.”
“you wouldn’t.”
that’s right, he wouldn’t. but he won’t tell you that. he’d rather just slide into your leaking cunt like he is now, relishing in the way you whine as he re-enters. it’s always like the first time with him, the burn of the way he stretches you hot against your achy hole as grasp tight as his wrist. and sukuna loves to bed you over backwards for him, quite literally, because he waists no time to push your legs up, getting them as far as your body will allow before pressing his own weight on top of you, keeping them locked in place so he can start to move.
and he’s been far more patient within the last few minutes, but right now his pace is relentless, fucking you with a speed that your brain actually cannot comprehend, lips nipping at the exposed skin of your neck. it’s been a while since he’s been able to have just enough time with you and all the marks he loves to see against your skin have healed and faded. no problem for him, it’s the perfect setting to give you one, two, maybe thirty more.
your arms are locked tight around his broad shoulders, trying to ground yourself from the pleasure. if you sink too far into it, you might honestly pass out from how good he feels. he knows just when to angle his hips up, just when to lick into your mouth and just how much pressure he needs to put on your stomach to have wail out his name in a sickly sweet tone, the tears that were welling in the corners of your eyes finally starting to roll against your cheeks as he keeps up, pace never faltering.
the man you’re dating is a nasty brute though, and he enjoys saying you like this a little too much. his tongue is quick to lap up the liquid gracing your cheeks, ignoring the way you whine out an ewwww because he knows you love it when he does shit like this. he’ll pay a soft peck to your lips before trailing his rough fingers toward your clit, brushing hard against the sensitive bud. the single action has you arching off the ground, pressing your chest against his as you squirm hard, trying to run away from the pleasure.
but sukuna hates it when you try to escape, it offends him even. he’d much prefer you stay here and take what he decides to give you because he usually gives you his everything. your gratitude can’t be trying to leave, that won’t be fair to him. so he’ll push even harder against your clit, drawing quick shapes against hit in ways that he knows will have you shaking hard against him in no time.
and once again he’s correct because your eyes are rolling back into the darkness of your skull, body spasming under his as your orgasm rocks you hard. it’s all so beautiful, the noises you make, the way you look, the way your cunt continues to flutter around his length; he can’t help but pump you full of his own, grunts deep and hoarse as he fucks it into you. too bad you’re out cold from your own, he would have loved to see the look on your face as his actions would most definitely overstimulate you.
when you finally come to, you’re cleaned up and laid on the couch, in his shirt and a blanket tightly tucked around you. the volume from the tv is low and sukuna sits on the floor, back resting against the chair as he focuses hard on the screen.
“sukuna..what are you doing?”
“i’m playing a real game here. you wouldn’t understand.”
“you’re playing dress to impress??”
he just waves you off, returning his attention back to his very serious gameplay. you roll your eyes, debating wether or not you should unplug your router just to see him suffer, but you come up with another idea.
in almost no time, you’re sliding yourself into his lap, chest facing his as you trail your fingers up and down his built chest. sukuna is well built, almost too well built, body chiseled and toned like a greek god. he spares you only a glance and a smirk as your touch continues to roam over his body.
“you’re not going to mess me up right now, brat.”
smart, but his body is as weak for your touch as you are for his. when you do respond, your voice is low, and sultry and you bring your lips to his ears to make sure he hears you loud and clear.
“i’m not trying to, you can keep playing.”
his entire being stiffens but for only a second. that one second is enough to solidify your resolve, because you’re moving your hips against his, and you can feel his bulge growing against the thin fabric of your panties as you whisper the nastiest things to him, making sure you’re moving just enough to get him on the edge.
you hold back a smile when you feel both hands against the dip of your waist, guiding you against his length. he’s watching you very closely, studying every shift and flutter of your lashes as you cutely smile up at him. god, you’re honestly going to kill him. but before that, he’s going to fuck that pussy half to death until you’re begging him to let you cum.
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thedivinetarot · 4 months ago
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Light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul
Who is your future spouse?
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☆How to chose the perfect pile?
1) Clear your mind.
2) Take a deep breathe.
3) Ask the question in your head.
4) Open your eyes and the picture that you are drawn to the most is your pile.
☆ Before you get into the reading you have to know the following:
- Please, please and I will say it again please do not think of anyone while you are choosing. Not your Ex or current boyfriend or even your crush. And I will say it again DO NOT THINK of any man as your future spouse if you want to have an accurate reading.
- This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest. The future is not set in stone and the energy can change. This reading does not substitute any medical or professional help.
- I might do part 2 for this reading.
Stay safe ❤
Arya
Pile 1 - Bram stoker's Dracula
☆Where are you coming from? Your current love life:
I see that this pile have been lonely for quite some time and they are wondering if they will truly find someone. I see that you guys are overthinking everything about your love life and you are leaving no space for divine intervention. This pile’s energy is quite sad and tormented? You perhaps tell yourself that you don't need anyone but you truly want to build something stable and long lasting. I see that you feel stuck on I'm independent I don't need anyone mindset. Not because you really like being independent but because you are afraid of getting disappointed. The problem with this pile is the fear is literally paralyzing you and sabotaging any potential connection that can fit into your life. I'm also seeing that you might be someone who have been rejected and the pain of rejection is still vivid in your core memory. I see that you truly want love and to be loved! You might have a crush on someone with virgo or taurus placements. Or you might feel drawn to those type of men who embodies this archetype. I feel like you are kind of traditional towards dating. You might have had strict family or you really have a strong opinion regarding dating or hookup culture. This is your pile if you have strong virgo placements, water placements or the description fit you perfectly.
Who is your future spouse?
Pile one you might be manifesting your twin flame to be in a marriage with them? This person might enter your life so soon and above all you might get to know him online? I see that he might like your photos if you post yourself or he might just DM you through social media? This person is so grounded and stubborn. He is so earthy and stable in a generous way. He is the perfect mix between fire and earth. He is so childish or he aim to see infinite possibilities. I see that he is doing shadow work or he has been to therapy before. I see that this person is either a heartbreaker or been heartbroken many times. He is so naive or he seems naive? He might prefer texting over phone or video calls. There's an emphasis on his hair. He have curly and dark hair. His eyes are sleepy or he have sleepy eyes. There's something about his face, you see those people who have sleepy faces? Like they just woke up? I guess he might have that. He might look innocent and angelic. Like his aura is so comforting and serene. I also see that this person look younger than his age with hazel eyes. His style looks chill, like you see those guys who wear comfy hoodies? He might be one of them. I asked when will you meet him and the cards told me that you may meet him 6 months from now. You might be on a journey of self discovery when he enters your life. You might be losing weight and if you are not trying to lose weight; you might be trying to get in shape. I see that you are going to meet him after doing a lot of shadow work and inner reflection.
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Pile 2 - The Addams couple
☆ Where are you coming from? Your current love life:
This pile is my daring and flirty pile. You might like your solitude but you flirt for fun. I see that most interactions that happen between you and the opposite sex are online. You might like to post spicy photos of yourself. Or send nudes to total strangers in public. You might like to take initiative in relationships. Even if you are a woman/female; you simply don't care about the traditional roles. Especially on who get to initiate to whom. If you like someone you are going to get them, I see that this is your moto. Also this might be your pile if you are stuck on a decision regarding travel. You might want to travel but you are juggling too many responsibilities and this is holding you back from actually pursuing that goal. If you are a man (since the dominant energy on this pile are men or masculines) you might be posting photos or nudes of yourself online. I see many risky photos and poses and if you are not a man or masculine then you might be doing the same action. You really value your own space; I see that you are protecting your peace at all costs. I mean yes you might like to flirt for fun with others but nothing really is serious and you are not looking for something serious either. This is your pile if you have significant leo or Aries placements.
Who is your future spouse?
Your future spouse is someone that you are going to meet through group project. At first as I said about your current energy, you are not looking for something serious so when you meet that person you'll find it kind of confusing. I see that you might be blinded at first. Like you might not notice them and if you are working with them you might not be attracted to them. They are not your usual type, they might be smart and quick thinker. This person knows how to take care of themselves. He might also know how to take care of women in general. Men might call him simp but he is no simp he is just so kind and empathetic towards women's needs. He is so determined, I see that once he put his mind on a goal he doesn't stop when he is tired, He only stop when he finish. I see that he LOVES to conquer a good challenge. He likes to to be assertive and he is looking for someone assertive too. He want his equal, his queen. He might look like he suit you? Wait let me rephrase it. You see that two people who are not dating but everyone in workplace ship them? You two might have intense chemistry. This person look like a heartbreaker. Eye color range from brown to gray or just those two colors. His hair is so silky or wavy. He have this confused look when he talk to you? He might even drag his feet while he walk, or he might look tired when he walk.
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Pile 3 - Nosferatu
Where are you coming from? Your current love life.
Well, looking at the cards this pile is in their sweet feminine energy who wants princess treatment and to be spoiled. If this is not the case then this piles are for mothers or you are a mother or pregnant. If you are not pregnant and you are the girl who is in her feminine energy then I see that there's someone who wants to pursue you and he is so damn confident about it. I see that you guys are so confident in yourselves. Perhaps, you are someone who is working on their self esteem and self worth. I see that whatever the case you are in. It is going to pay off. For my girlies who are being pursued by someone I see that this person is very serious about you. He want to marry you quiet literally. This person sees you as his wife or future wife. I also see that this connection is meant to be and is distant to happen even if you are not aware of it. This person is quite civilized and diplomatic. He want to make you happy and cherish you, but if you don't want him it is your choice at the end of the day. I see a lot of happiness in this pile. Guys happiness is your middle name, since the energy or the cards I'm pulling are all yellow and yellow means happiness in tarot. Another energy I'm picking up on is that this pile doesn't really want to be strong and independent. Unlike pile one who is pushing themselves to be that way, this pile is accepting the fact that you want to be a stay at home mother or a rich wife of a rich dude. Most people in this pile are Venus dominant, have taurus or libra placement or have venusian energy in general. You guys might be the pretty girl in your friend group and everyone enjoys looking at you.
Who is your future spouse?
So right off the bat what I'm seeing is someone who have a lot of options. You know that one man who is wanted by every woman because of how friendly and charismatic he is? This man has this energy. It looks like this person is someone who has been heartbroken before and now he keeps his options open by befriending many girls and keeping his options open. He have the cup of love and he is so eager to give it to someone, I'm also picking up on someone passionate and eager to explore life. This person is sooo romantic in a cheesy way. I see that many times he attempted to get in a relationship but got afraid and back off from pursuing something serious. This person believes in manifestations or he tried manifesting an SO or future wife or this person really believes that he can create the reality he wants. This person gives off the vibe of a knight in a shining armor or a Disney prince tbh. This person look like a literal baby or he have baby features. He might have round or oval face. This man can be a little overweight or fat with blonde hair and blue eyes. He is so cute I'm seeing a picture of someone who look adorable and sweet. This person gives off the vibe of "I look good as a husband". But in general this person look so childish and baby like. Could look younger than his actual age? Or this person might be younger than you, but not so much like a couple months younger. He is so friendly or he have a lot of female friendships. This man gives off the ENFJ vibes Idk if you know mbti but you can Google it if you want to. He is so emotionally mature and caring. His energy is so nurturing. I asked the cards about when will you are going to meet him and they said he will enter soon into your life and one of the signs is a female around you is going to give birth or you are going to meet a pregnant woman or one of your relatives/friends will get pregnant. There's a NOTE for this pile specifically; if you are being pursued by someone this person is your future spouse. And if you are not being pursued by anyone then you might know who your future spouse is. And if you don't have anyone then take the reading with a grain of salt but you can enjoy it anyways.
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Pile 4 - Hollywood couple
Where are you coming from? Your current love life:
This pile is truly stuck. I feel like I'm bored and desperate I want to cry. Like guys what is the matter? There's both boredom and stagnation. You might be someone who is really bored with how things are in your love life. I'm picturing a girl about 16 to 18 years old who want to be open to love but there's a man in her life (could be a male caregiver) who is very strict and structured. This man literally destroyed your well to date anyone. I feel like you are discouraged by the idea of love and I feel that you are unbalanced in a way? Like you are trying to protect yourself from getting hurt but at the same time you want love so freaking bad. I'm clinching my jaw and I feel like I want to scream and yell and kick things around me. Pile four why are you so angry? Please calm down! There's nothing in this life that deserve all this anger. Please take a break and go balance yourself and life. You are still young and have no experience and life is still long in front of you. I see that you might be waiting for something to happen; for someone to come in and rescue you from your life but nothing really happens so you pour all of your anger and resentment on yourself. Please stop hurting yourself and go find a hobby or something that can help you channel this anger and resentment. I'm picking up on someone who is bottling up their feelings and not really trying to express them. I also feel headache, do you have headache pile four? Are you bloated too? You might have significant leo and Aries placements. A little Taurus placements and sun, mars and sagittarius dominate. I feel like you are waiting and waiting but the waiting itself got bored of you lol. And you end up feeling devastated and angry. This pile’s energy is so rageful, please do some meditation or workout to get rid of that anger. You might also be scared of change? And overwhelmed by the idea of change? You might be someone who doesn't really like things to change and stick to a specific routine. Anyways let's get into the reading.
Who is your future spouse?
This person is very hardworking and workaholic. I see that the main focus in his life is his career, money and stability. This man is a little bit selfish, and he became like that because of how much he suffered. This person suffered from poverty, or he was very poor. He might even get kicked out of his family house so he can work and get them money. This person got bullied a lot by his peers and saw a lot of cruelty in his life, I feel so sorry for him. This person might be closed off emotionally, it is like he is trying to shelter himself from any possible heartache because of what happened in his childhood. I also see that when you meet him he might not be ready for anything serious or he might not really have healed fully from what has happened to him. There's an age gap here, he might he older than you or more mature. Like 4 years older. He might also be a co-worker of you? Or acquaintance If it is not then he might work with you in your field. The main challenge he is facing is stability, he want stability to be able to marry you. My advice for this pile is don't try to force things out if this person is not ready for commitment. He hasn't healed yet and his main focus is on the material. He might even use you if you attempted to help him financially so please don't. What really amazed me in this pile that this man is so materialistic, his love language can be gift giving. Now his appearance; this person look so cocky and confident. He have hazel eye color and sharp features. This person's back look hot or beautiful. He is not that tall, he is medium height. His hair is dirty blonde or chestnut brown. A foreigner? He might not be from your country. This man is possessive to be honest. If you met him after he get his ish together he will spoil you rotten but if not then don't try to help and heal him. You might meet him at the end of November to the most of December.
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Post date: 25th/Aug/2024 - Sun
*Feedback is appreciated
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thinkinonsense · 4 months ago
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dbf!logan who adores taking care of you *mdni
a/n: sorry if this doesn't fit the exact vibe lmao i kinda went off script with this one
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logan and your father have been close friends for quite some time now. They met at one of your father's odd jobs and around the time that you first started university was when logan met you.
the prettiest young thing he's ever seen. it didn't take long for logan to sink his claws into you and make you his.
it started out innocently, logan would catch you rushing out of the house to go on a date with some frat guy and he would stop you at the door.
"might wanna pull down that dress, bunny." logan said, reaching down to tug at the tiny red dress you were wearing. "don't want 'em thinkin' that you're easy, right?"
his sweet condescending words send a flush of heat up to your cheeks. logan had never spoken to you like that; no one had really.
"right, mr.howlett." you nodded, avoiding his piercing gaze. "t-thanks."
logan hated seeing you leave with some asshole who didn't know how to treat a girl like you. only he could handle you.
as the months passed, logan finally made his mark on you. he had been waiting it out for too long; tormented by images of you kissing guys that you didn't even like. he hated how you would come back with messy hair and a frown on your face from a night of disappointment. on logan's way out, he would pass you on the porch and fix your hair for you. see? he wasn't too bad after all.
you wanted logan and he knew it for certain, he could smell you and there was no escaping that.
"come sit." logan stated, startling you. your father had a work emergency to take care of, he said he would be right back but it's already been ten minutes alone with logan.
carefully, you decide to sit on the other end of the couch; farthest away from his thick thighs were spread for his own comfort.
"closer, bunny." he instructs, patting his lap for you to sit. "i don't bite."
you hesitated for a second before taking a seat on the dark denim material. it tickled the back of your bare thighs a little.
"i'm not sure about this, mr.howlett." your voice was meek; eyes staring down at his belt buckle rather than up at his hazel ones. "my father should be back soon."
"we've got enough time." logan assured, lacing a hand through your hair, pulling you closer until your lips meet.
everything started out slow, logan didn't want to scare you away. it wasn't until he felt you moving on top of him, that he deepened the kiss and slipped his hand under your shirt.
you shouldn't want someone like logan; broken beyond repair, old enough to be your parent, and someone who waited you out for his own selfish needs.
"l-l-logan." you pant against his lips, grey beard tickling you softly.
his belt buckle catches on your cotton underwear, causing your eyes to roll back. logan adored every sound that fell from your lips. engraving every moment into his brain. your little reactions to the friction reminded that none of these boys you wasted your time with knew how to care for you like he does.
neither of you were exactly sure how much time had passed but sooner than you would like, a car pulled into the driveway.
logan was the first to pull away from the kiss, admiring his hard work. he loved how messy you got while kissing him. your eyes a daze and a blissed out smile upon your lips.
"ya made a mess on that pretty face, sweetheart." he whispers wiping your smeared red lipstick and adjusting your top.
you liked being logan's dirty little secret and he enjoyed riling you up any chance he got; whether it was quick heated kisses while waiting for your father to come back the garage with those tools logan asked to borrow, or if he had a couple minutes to lift up that short skirt that's been plaguing his mind all day long.
one thing about being with an older man like logan is that he took care of you like how you deserved.
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dark-fics-4-you · 5 months ago
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Old Grudges Die Hard
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dark!Bully!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Rafe Cameron had made your life hell ever since you first met him in elementary school. When you moved away for college, you thought you were finally done with your bully, but your life changes when you come face to face with him at his party a year later.
Warnings: noncon (rape), smut, unprotected sex, dacryphilia (crying & tear kink), rough sex, slapping, choking, sexual harassment, harassment, degradation, bullying, drinking, drugs
A/N: this fic begins when Reader and Rafe are in elementary school, but nothing sexual happens between them until they are 19 years old
When you were in elementary school, your parents explained to you that part of being a Pogue meant that people would hate you for absolutely no reason other than the fact that you’re poor.
Grasping your scrapped knee in pain as fat tears rolled down your cheeks, you were quick to tell your parents about the altercation at school as soon as they picked you up.
When you asked them what a ‘Pogue’ was, they exchanged a concerned look before gingerly explaining why the rude boy in your class had shoved you really hard at recess.
“B-but why would he do that?” You sobbed. “It’s so hard to make new friends here!”
“I know sweetheart,” your mother looked down at you sadly. “Is this the first time something like this has happened?”
“No! He made fun of my clothes on my first day. He said I look poor and he would know since he’s rich.” You cried louder, remembering how upset his words had made you. “A-and then all of the girls wouldn’t stop grabbing my skirt or pinching me because he told them to.”
“Have you told the teacher about this?” Your mother asked. You had reached the car now and she helped you into your seat and buckled you in.
“They just ignored me! Rafe gets away with everything,” you grumbled.
“Maybe he’s got a crush on you, Y/N,” your dad jokingly teased from the front of the car and you gagged loudly.
“Ew! No! I hate him! I would never like him in a million years!” You angrily exclaimed.
“Well, I’ll call the school and let them know he’s causing problems. He shouldn’t be able to get away with this without punishment.”
What your parents had a much harder job explaining to you was how powerful money is, and how unfair the world is.
Three parent-teacher meetings with your parents and Rafe’s accomplished little to nothing. If anything, the attention that you had brought to his behavior only made it worse.
It was remarkable how sneaky he could be in his torment of you, always waiting for the teacher’s back to turn before pinching your arm hard enough to make you scream, and bringing the teacher’s attention back to you only for you to be chastised for interrupting class.
He would accuse you of looking at his quizzes, all the while he was cheating off of you.
Any craft or art project that you worked on would mysteriously turn up damaged or missing, getting you in more trouble with the teacher for not completing work.
By the last day of 5th grade, you were thrilled to be heading off to a different middle school than Rafe.
And for three blissful years, you were safe from his cruelty. In fact, Rafe Cameron had become all but a distant memory by the time you reached high school.
Excited by your high grades in middle school and how fast you were learning the material, your parents saved up their money to put you into the best high school in Outer Banks, one that was populated mostly by rich Kooks.
You were so excited to start high school at such a nice school! It was very obvious to you that you were in Kook territory given how well funded it was, and you hoped that despite your Pogue status, you would be able to make friends.
When you realized one of your closest elementary school friends who had switched schools in the 7th grade was at the same school, you were over the moon.
Linking arms with Olivia, she gave you a quick tour of the school before leading you over to your locker. After several attempts, you opened it and loaded your things inside.
“I’ve already made so many friends and we haven’t even started classes yet!” Olivia giggled.
“Really??” You asked. If Olivia was making friends this quickly, maybe it would be okay for you.
“Yeah! And there’s sooo many cute guys here! Like Brady, Joey, Daevon, Rafe, Aaron L, Aaron R, although Aaron D is straight up fugly.”
“Wait hold on, did you say Rafe? As in Rafe Cameron?” Your stomach dropped at the thought of running into him.
Even though it had been three years and you hoped that he had changed, you couldn’t help but feel apprehension at his name.
“Oh yeah, he’s sooo cute!” Olivia gushed, looking around the hall quickly before meeting your eyes again. “Why? What’s up? Do you have a crush on him too?”
“Well, I haven’t seen him in so long, but the last time I did, he was basically my bully in elementary school,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation.
“Wait, what?? That was Rafe?!”
“What did I do?” A familiar voice from behind you made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you swiveled around to come face to face with the last person you wanted to see right now.
His face had changed and he was obviously much taller than he had been when you last saw him (you both were), but there was no mistaking his face.
He took you in for a moment, eyes widening when he recognized you.
“No way, Y/N Y/L/N, is that really you?” His voice was incredulous and you had never wished more that you would just evaporate.
“In the flesh,” you nervously joked.
“Hi Rafe!” Olivia excitedly greeted him, but he ignored her, much to her dismay.
“Y/N um, you know…” he paused, looking a bit pained. “I uh, I feel kinda bad about how I treated you back then, that was so long ago now though.”
He laughed and you reluctantly joined in.
“But anyways, I uh- wanna make it up to you, you should come sit with my friends at lunch today.”
His offer shocked you and you couldn’t help but stare at him for a few moments with raised eyebrows.
“Is this a joke?”
“No,” he quickly responded, looking to the ground with embarrassment burning across his cheeks. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
You glanced over at Olivia who gave you an encouraging grin, looking a little jealous herself.
“Um, I guess! Thanks Rafe!” You smiled at him and he mumbled a goodbye before running off to class.
Olivia squealed with excitement before pulling you into a tight hug, “OMG!!! Y/N!! He is so into you!”
“No way! He’s probably just trying to put the past behind us,” you rolled your eyes at Olivia’s enthusiasm.
However, as lunch approached, you found butterflies growing in your stomach. Were you scared or nervous? Why?? It was just lunch. Rafe did look very different, and you couldn’t deny that he was a little cute, but you still felt anxious to see what lunch would bring.
The bell rang out, releasing you from your last class before lunch. Your stomach was in knots as you walked to the cafeteria. You grabbed your food slowly, letting people filter into the seats and trying to spot Rafe.
He confidently walked in with his friends in tow, all of them laughing loudly as they made their way to a table near the back of the cafeteria.
You swallowed your nerves, clutching your lunch tray tightly before approaching their table.
Rafe stood up, grinning at you before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you to a seat before pushing you down onto it, “here, sit next to me.”
He sat beside you introducing you to all of his friends at the table, “that’s Topper, Kelce, Byce, and Joey.”
“Hi,” you nervously told the boys your name.
After meeting them, the conversation moved on to discussing all of the cool things they had done this summer. You even chimed in yourself and they all seemed interested in what you had to say.
Rafe opened his lunchbox before sighing in disappointment and chuckling, “my dumbass parents forgot the silverware again.”
He looked down at his leftover spaghetti, seemingly with no fork or spoon in sight.
Feeling like you wanted to repay Rafe for inviting you to sit with him and his friends, you told him you could grab it.
When you stood and turned to walk away, you heard the entire table break out into loud laughter.
You whipped around, nervously meeting Rafe’s eye.
“What’s so funny?” You demanded, raising your voice to cut through their snickers.
Your panic caught the attention of the students around you, who also began laughing.
“Looks like Aunt Flo is in town, Y/L/N.” Rafe cackled, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what was going on.
On the seat that you had just been in, beside Rafe, you could see red paint drying to the seat.
Without thinking, you reached behind and your heart clenched when you felt wetness on your bottom, and you looked down to see the same red paint now smeared on your hand.
Rafe and his friends burst into laughter, along with the other tables that had been nearby when you stood up.
The cacophony caught the attention of the other students seated further away, who noticed your seemingly blood stained shorts and started laughing along at you.
You had never felt so publicly shamed in your life, and you realized that you were dead wrong to assume that Rafe had changed at all.
You didn’t think he could ever turn over a new leaf now.
Hot tears sprang to your eyes as you ran out of the cafeteria, sprinting to a bathroom stall to lock yourself in as you cried.
After 5 minutes of ugly sobbing, you finally collected yourself and decided to go to the front office to see if they could help you.
Not wanting to mention the fact that you had been pranked, you tied your sweater around your waist and asked them if they had shorts you could borrow.
Luckily enough for you, they did and you were able to get changed as everyone in the lunch period filtered out to their next classes.
You grabbed a note from the office before rushing to your class, 3 minutes after the final bell had rung.
Entering the classroom, you tried to ignore the soft chuckled and looks of recognition you got, but your stomach clenched when you realized there was only one seat left.
Right in front of Rafe.
He sneered at you as you sat down, and you did your best to ignore him.
Halfway through class, his hot breath at your ear nearly made you jump out of your skin.
“Why were you so late to class, huh? Already running to mommy and daddy to tattle?” His whispered voice gave you chills and you ignored him, with great difficulty.
After whispering to you several more times and trying to get a rise out of you, he seemingly gave up.
Until you felt his finger hook underneath your bra strap at your back, pulling it back before snapping it against your skin.
You let out a gasp before spinning around in your chair to glare at him, “what’s your problem?!”
Rafe’s lips curled into a small smirk before responding, “what? I didn’t do anything.”
At this point your English teacher had noticed your outburst, walking over to you and Rafe with a stern look.
“Why are you disrupting my lesson? This better be good.”
You parted your lips, ready to respond, but Rafe beat you to it.
“I don��t know what’s going on with her, she just snapped at me,” he laid the charm on thick and you rolled your eyes.
“He’s lying!”
“Quiet, both of you! I don’t want to hear a word from either of you the rest of this class.” She chastised you, and you felt your cheeks burn with shame.
It just reminded you of him getting you in trouble years ago and you couldn’t believe that history was repeating itself.
The rest of your freshman year was no easier, with Rafe continuing to torture you and try to get you in trouble at school.
He never missed an opportunity to call you a ‘dirty Pogue,’ or shove you against the hard lockers whenever he spotted you in the hall.
Of course, no matter how many times you reported this to the school, often with witnesses, they always had their hands tied behind their back and deep in the pockets of Ward Cameron, who used his money and influence to shield his golden child of any and all consequences for his actions.
Sophomore year, his preferred method of torture was having his buddies pick on you in gym class. They would pummel you with dodgeballs as you huddled in the corner, the gym teacher laughing too hard to stop them.
Junior year, he broke into your locker, stealing all of your textbooks and breaking the locker door. Conveniently, the cameras were down that day and because you couldn’t prove that Rafe had done it, you and your parents had to pay for new textbooks and a new locker door.
Senior year, he and all of his friends on the football team took immense sadistic pleasure from whistling at and catcalling you whenever they saw you, albeit in or out of school.
You never assumed that he had suddenly had a change of heart about you and was now interested in you. No, you knew that this was just Rafe trying to get under your skin and make you as uncomfortable as possible.
To him, harassing you had clearly become a game, one that you were growing extremely weary of as it went ignored by school staff for longer and longer.
The sick grin that would spread across his face as you squirmed in front of him proved how much he enjoyed toying with you.
Despite Rafe literally chasing you down the hallway while repeatedly calling you a ‘slut’ at full volume because you had worn a shorter skirt to school than usual one time, none of the teacher or administrators ever took your side.
For four years, Rafe Cameron made your life a living hell, and you still just couldn’t understand why.
Yes, he hated Pogues, that much was clear to you after seeing his treatment of your friends, but he seemed to harbor a deeper resentment towards you than he did towards anyone else.
No one else was ever on the receiving end of such hateful and calculated behavior, and your friends all agreed that he seemed to have it out for you specifically.
When graduation rolled around, you were less excited about graduating high school than you were to finally be done with Rafe.
Considering the fact that you were off to college while he was going to community college in Outer Banks also gave you a sense of pride. Despite his wealthy background and many privileges, you were still starting your future on a better foot, looking forward to attending Duke University on a full ride scholarship.
Your first year there was a dream come true, a whirlwind of meeting new friends, working hard in your classes, and going out to parties for the first time.
Without Pogue vs Kook bullshit poisoning the air, you found that you were finally able to be yourself and find your real identity.
Dating was still somewhat new to you, but you had at the very least lost your virginity first semester of college on a hookup with a cute guy.
It wasn’t anything special, but it could have been worse, and you were just excited to get more experience as college went on.
After the second semester ended, you packed up your dorm room to move back to Outer Banks for the summer, excited to reconnect with old friends.
Which is how you found yourself in the front seat of your friend’s car, parked in the driveway outside of a huge house party as you quickly fixed your make up last minute.
“Let’s go, Y/N! My pregame buzz is already starting to wear off!” Olivia complained from the backseat and you quickly put away your makeup before giving yourself a once over in the car mirror.
“Are you really trying that hard to impress Outer Banks boys when the Duke hotties are just a summer away??” Jade asked beside you.
“I just want to be ready for whatever the night brings,” you giggled. “I’m keeping my options open for now.”
The girls laughed along with you.
“Well you look hot as fuck already, let’s gooo!” Jade opened her car door and stepped out before you could get another word in.
“Okay, fine!”
You stepped out of the car, feeling very confident in your short party dress and heels.
Walking up to the large, imposing house, you could already hear the music pulsing loudly from inside. There were people standing outside to talk and you recognized one or two of them, saying “hi!” on your way in.
Everything was much louder inside the luxurious house, which was absolutely packed with people. The deep bass of the music rumbled throughout the house, rattling around in your ribcage.
Since Olivia and Jade had gone to parties here before, you let them lead you into the kitchen where the drinks were.
A large variety of beers, hard liquor, seltzers, and jungle juice greeted you inside, but you headed straight for the jungle juice.
“Ooh it’s blue tonight!” Olivia noticed, “I bet it’s gonna be super sour.”
You poured yourself a glass before taking a sip to try it. It tasted like blue raspberry, and the alcohol level made you gag in surprise at first, but on the second try you found that you liked it a lot.
“It’s good! Wait should we all do a shot together too?” You locked eyes with your friends, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
“Fuck yes,” Olivia cheered.
“I’m in!” Jade added and you poured out 3 shots.
Grabbing your shot glass, you raised it up, along with the other girls.
“Cheers!” You clinked them together, then tapped it down onto the table once before throwing it back.
“Okay, can we find the hot guys now?” Olivia joked and you nodded in agreement, reaching to pick up your drink.
Your hand slipped as you grabbed the plastic glass however, and it fell off the counter, spilling it’s contents all over the floor.
“Shit!” You cursed, looking around for some paper towels.
Your friends grabbed a roll off the fridge and handed it to you.
“Ugh I’m sorry!” You apologized as you got onto your hands and knees to clean up the mess. “Hey, you guys should scope out the people in the next room.”
“Ooh that’s a good idea! Let’s go Liv!” Jade grabbed Olivia by the arm and pulled her out of the kitchen, leaving you alone to mop up the sticky drink with paper towels.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” Rafe’s easily recognizable drawl made goosebumps erupt across your skin, and you froze in place. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
All of the sounds of the party seemed to zone out as you quickly stood up, turning to face him.
When you looked up at the man who now towered far above you, you could tell that he had changed in the year since you last saw him.
Rafe had never been a skinny guy, especially when he had played football throughout high school, but now he seemed more ripped than you had ever seen him. Clearly he had been using a lot of his time away from school to build up his physique.
You also noticed that he seemed to have grown into his face more, looking more lean and handsome than he did in high school.
The smirk that was plastered on his face was all too familiar to you though. It was the look he always had when he was playing games with you.
“Hi, Rafe,” you nervously answered. “I could say the same.”
He paused, his gaze flitting down before slowly working its way up your body. His blue eyes narrowed as they met yours and you repressed a full body shiver.
“It’s my house,” he took a step closer to you and you instinctively took one back. He chuckled at that. “That’s why I’m so surprised to see you, ‘specifically looking so dolled up.”
His words surprised you and you mentally kicked yourself for not pressing the girls for more details about whose party you were going to.
Honestly you were just surprised and a little hurt that Olivia and Jade would choose to bring you here knowing your history with Rafe.
“I- I had no clue this was your house,” you stammered, taking another step back to create more space between you and the taller man.
Despite the muffled sounds of the party around you, and the knowledge that your friends were just down the hall, you felt so incredibly alone in the now all too cramped kitchen.
“How’s Duke been treating you?” His face was even, but his nasally tone betrayed a hint of disdain.
“It’s been…” you paused, unsure what the best thing to say would be. “It’s been really good. My first year was easier than I expected, but still interesting.”
He was silent, just studying your face for a moment. Rafe’s nose twitched before he let out a flat, “that’s good.”
Already feeling a heightened anxiety from being around him, and feeling distrustful about his questions, you were ready to exit this conversation.
With your drink clutched in your hand, you made a weak excuse about needing to catch up with Olivia and Jade before trying to walk around him.
You were shocked however when he suddenly moved as you walked by, his fingers wrapping around your arm just above your elbow and stopping you in your tracks.
“What are you doing? Let go of me,” You demanded, looking up at him in confusion and trying to tug your arm out of his grasp.
He moved in front of you, blocking your exit path with his grip still firm on your arm.
“C’mon, wait a second, I- I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I know I was really an asshole to you when we were younger, but that was so long ago, y’know? Could you just let me apologize to you?”
His words came out somewhat stammered, but still confident, and due to the forced proximity you could probably deduce why.
Rafe’s pupils were blown wide, his free hand gesturing in a jittery manner that could only point to one conclusion.
He was high as fuck.
“Please just- let go of me!” You begged with him again.
His eyes darkened, jaw tightening in annoyance as he looked down his nose at you. Rafe huffed, his lips parting to say something else but he was interrupted.
“Hey, what the fuck is going on here?”
You had never felt happier to hear Olivia’s voice. Glancing over Rafe’s shoulder, you could see her and Jade standing in the doorway glaring at Rafe.
Rafe immediately released you and you quickly rushed over to your friends.
“We were just catching up,” Rafe spoke with a casual ease as he turned to face you, like he hadn’t just corned you all alone at his party. It reminded you of all of the times you had tried to report him to teachers, only for him to sweet talk his way out of punishment.
“See ya around, Y/N.”
You shot him a dirty look before rushing out of the kitchen with Olivia and Jade in tow.
“What was that??” Jade asked as soon as the three of you were in the crowded living room.
“Better question, did you guys know this was Rafe Cameron’s house?” You angrily asked them.
You were still feeling shaken by the interaction. Maybe you should have anticipated that he would at the very least be at this party, but you had never expected he would be the one hosting it.
Olivia’s face dropped and she anxiously apologized, “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I honestly figured we wouldn’t run into him since there’s always just so many people here.”
“It’s okay,” you sighed. “He’s just being his normal, weird and creepy self. We probably won’t even see him again the rest of the night.”
You took a large swig of your drink to calm your nerves.
What this night needed was a distraction from Rafe Cameron, and you, Jade, and Olivia were still determined to have a good time tonight.
The three of you walked through the large house, coming across many familiar faces from high school.
Even while catching up with old friends though, you felt incredibly uneasy.
The feeling that there was a pair of eyes trained on you was burning at the back of your neck, and you weren’t surprised when you peeked behind yourself at one point to spot Rafe standing about 10 feet away among a group of guys.
Even when you met his gaze, his eyes didn’t flick away, and you shivered as he took a long drink from his solo cup, eyes never leaving yours.
Turning away from him and tuning your attention back into your friends, you couldn’t help but question yourself.
Were you crazy or was he looking at you differently?
The only times that he had even shown any interest in talking with you was before he was about to publicly humiliate you in some horrible way, but this time felt different.
There was something more behind his eyes that you couldn’t identify that raised alarms in your head.
No matter where you, Jade, and Olivia went, it seemed like Rafe wasn’t far behind. Despite joining the different groups nestled just out of view, you would catch a glimpse of him that would spike your pulse.
Your paranoia didn’t want you to get another drink. You felt almost unreasonably nervous about what might happen if Rafe trapped you alone, but you felt reassured by Jade and Olivia’s presence, emboldening you to serve yourself one more cup of the jungle juice.
That confidence quickly fizzled however, when halfway through finishing your drink, Jade found a cute guy to hook up with and split off from you and Olivia.
Olivia was quick to leave as well, despite your pleas that she stay with you, “there’s plenty of people you know here, Y/N! Just lighten up a bit, you’ll be fine!”
With neither of your friends beside you, you suddenly felt very alone and you looked around the room, hoping to find any high school acquaintances you could catch up with to avoid the awkward nervousness you felt right now.
Unluckily, you didn’t recognize anyone, so you threw back the rest of your drink and started making the rounds.
Downstairs yielded no results, so you made your way upstairs, hoping to find either Olivia and Jade or other friends to talk to.
You checked several rooms only to be unsuccessful in finding anyone that you knew.
Jade and Olivia hadn’t been responding to your texts and you were starting to get annoyed.
Upon finding another empty bedroom, you frustratedly sat down, pulling your phone out of your pocket to call one of them.
The sound of the door closing caught your attention, and you raised your head to see Rafe Cameron standing in front of the now closed bedroom door.
“Rafe?” Confusion tinged your shaky voice as you sat up, staring at him in the dimly lit room.
He got closer to the bed, never taking his eyes off of you. “D’you have any clue how crazy you drove me all through high school?”
A pit began to form in your stomach at his words and your throat felt tight as you looked up at the imposing blond.
His hair was disheveled, words slurring together as his angry blue eyes cut through you.
“What the hell are you talking about? If I remember correctly, you were the one torturing me!” You snipped back at him.
“You have no idea-” he sniffed, rubbing a shaky finger under his nose. “You think you’re so much better than me, hm?”
Rafe took another step closer and you shrunk in on yourself nervously, eyes darting to the door behind his looming figure. He seemed much more drunk and high now, a fact that made you even more uncomfortable.
“I- I don’t think that Rafe,” you stammered. “I never said that-”
“You didn’t have to, Y/N,” he bitterly sneered. “Y’moved out of Outer Banks for a year and now you think that makes you feel so high and mighty around the rest of us.”
“Rafe-”
“What makes you so special, hm?” He spat out, moving closer, now inches away from where you sat on the bed.
Your body was buzzing with anxious energy, but you felt frozen to the spot, completely caught off guard by this outburst from Rafe. There was nothing you could do to get yourself to move.
You had encountered Rafe when he had been drunk or high several times before, he was no stranger to coming to high school intoxicated. But you had never been trapped alone with him and completely at his mercy before and you couldn’t push down the nagging feeling that something awful was about to happen if you didn’t leave the room.
“You’re just Pogue trash, and let’s be real, it won’t be long till you fail out of college and you’re walking the streets of Outer Banks like the slut you are,” he growled and your cheeks heated up in anger.
You brought one arm up to push him back from you, but he snatched your wrist, fingers tightening around you painfully.
You let out a cry when he twisted your arm behind your back and he chuckled at the tears kissing your waterline.
“Still just the same uptight bitch you’ve always been, huh?” His eyes flitted down to your lips for a moment. He was so close you could clearly smell the alcohol on his hot breath.
“Let go of me, Rafe,” you whispered, voice shaking with fear. Sure, Rafe had been a nightmare before, but you never even imagined he would take it this far.
The taller man let out a short chuckle that sent a chill up your spine.
“Or what?” He smirked down at you, clearly enjoying your dismay at the situation he had forced you into. “Gonna tattle to a teacher?”
Your chest and throat felt tight, panic beginning to build inside you as you tried to deny what you were sure couldn’t be true.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Rafe.” You weakly tried, desperately hoping that this was just another one of his twisted pranks that he was taking too far to watch you squirm.
“You still think this is a joke, sweetheart?” He sneered, Figure Eight cockiness dripping from his nasally voice.
Time seemed to slow as Rafe leaned down, his lips covering yours as he released your wrist and locked his arm around the small of your back.
For a moment you were too shocked to react, but you quickly reached one arm up to push at his chest. Instead of pushing him away from you however, your force made you fall back against the bed, bringing him down with you.
He shamelessly grabbed at your waist, before trailing up, hands reaching past the neckline of your dress and traveling up to grope your tits as his lips found yours again.
You could barely process what was happening, your head still spinning from the alcohol. Rafe’s lips moved against yours, trailing across your cheek when your turned your head away from him to gasp for air.
One of his hands roughly grabbed your chin, pulling your jaw back towards him, and your stomach flipped at the feeling of him pushing his tongue into your mouth and groaning into the kiss.
When he shifted on top of you, grabbing your legs and spreading them apart, you struggled against him. Squirming on the bed, you managed to crawl away from him a bit, but his large hands grabbed your legs, pulling you back underneath him.
You froze when his fingers wrapped around your throat and you looked up at him with wide, nervous eyes.
“Stop fucking moving,” he huffed, forcing his free hand between your legs. He roughly pushed your dress up, pausing when he drank in your pink, lacy panties underneath.
Rafe licked his lips, a cruel smirk spreading across his face, “guess you’re not so innocent anymore, huh?”
Tears filled your eyes as you squirmed beneath him and the hand at your throat pressed down harder, pinning you in place.
His fingers ghosted over your core and you tilted your hips away from him, squeezing your thighs shut against his wandering hand.
Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, his blue eyes darkening as he scowled down at you.
“Y’know, I was almost gonna be nice to you…” His scowl disappeared as he trailed off, his pink lips curving into a sick grin. “But if you want to make this difficult, I can make it difficult too.”
You watched with fearful eyes as he reared one hand back, unable to flinch away due to his iron grip on your throat.
The cacophony of the party muffled your cry of pain when he slapped you hard. His golden rings made your cheek sting even more and you couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over.
Your ears were still ringing when you felt his hand leave your throat, but you were too dazed from the slap to react. Rafe’s impatient fingers dug into the skin of your thighs as he pulled your panties down your legs.
Time slowed as you could hear your heart thundering in your chest and you leaned up on your elbows to watch Rafe push his shorts down before palming his already hard cock. He was bigger than the guy you lost your virginity to, and much thicker.
Tongue thick and heavy in your mouth, you tried to tell him to stop, but the blood was rushing in your ears so loudly you couldn’t hear your own voice.
Rafe heard you though, and you watched him roll his eyes before ignoring your pleas.
He shifted on top of you, roughly parting your legs before placing himself between them. The blond wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, guiding it to your core and you struggled beneath him when he dragged the tip along your already slick lips.
“Fuck-” his low groan made your stomach flip. You reached up one hand to weakly push at his shoulders, but he swatted you away.
There was nothing you could do but watch as he planted one hand on the mattress to brace himself before pushing the tip of his cock between your folds and forcing himself inside your tight cunt.
“Rafe-” Your protest was cut off when his hand slapped over your mouth. Hot tears fell past your lashes as Rafe slowly stretched you out inch by inch.
His piercing eyes never left yours, watching your face with a sick delight as he violated you.
You shifted uncomfortably beneath him as he split you open, and you winced when he grabbed your arm, fingers digging in to your tender flesh.
You whimpered when his tip grazed your cervix. The blond tilted his hips back before pushing himself deep into you again.
Rafe let out a shaky breath, his cock twitching as you squeezed around him.
“Shit, if I knew you felt this good, I would’ve tried you out years ago,” he chuckled darkly, words slurring together.
His hand was removed from your mouth only to be replaced by his lips. You shuddered when he forced his tongue into your mouth, and you could taste the liquor on his lips.
Rafe pulled away from the kiss as he slowly began rocking his hips back and forth, stretching you out around his thick cock again and again.
Your hands came to his shoulders, nails digging in to his tanned skin as you tried to slow his pace.
Unfortunately, your attempts only amused Rafe, who sneered down at you cruelly before picking up his pace, forcing himself deep into your snug walls.
Intoxication clouded your mind, and the room seemed to be spinning even faster now.
“Fuck-” you moaned when he hit a spot that made you see stars. “Mm please-”
You were momentarily broken from the spell however when one of Rafe’s strong hands wrapped around your throat, stealing your breath.
When you tensed in fear, involuntarily squeezing around his cock, Rafe groaned, watching your misty, fearful eyes roll back in your head with each thrust.
“You look so pretty right now, Y/N. All teary eyed and cock drunk,” the blond whispered.
You wanted so badly to be able to escape, to avoid the wicked things he was doing to you, but you were so painfully aware, as every sensation was heightened by your terror.
Hips still snapping against yours, Rafe leaned down, his hungry lips finding yours. With his hand at your throat, you couldn’t turn away, and you clenched around him when he pushed his tongue into your mouth. His lips slid over yours greedily, refusing to stop until you clutched at the hand at your throat.
You took a gasping breath when he finally pulled away, your tears falling more freely now, and Rafe kissed your cheeks, licking up your salty tears.
“Perfect little Y/N is such a mess, huh?” He mocked you, mumbling against your skin before sloppily kissing you again.
You couldn’t deny the overwhelming feeling building between your legs, no matter how much it disgusted you. Shame clutched you when you felt yourself growing slicker with his every thrust.
“Don’t-” you whimpered when he hit a sensitive spot. “Stop-!”
Your assailant snickered at that, relishing your pitiful protests, “do you even know what you want right now? Y’think you’re so smart, till you take some cock and you turn into a stupid slut.”
His degrading words cut deep and your cheeks flushed in humiliation, tears spilling past your lashes.
Rafe’s pace was downright punishing, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass along with the lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room, punctuated by your whimpers and the coerced moans he drew out of you.
Hatred and resentment burned behind his blue eyes as he watched you squirm beneath him, only taking his eyes off of your face to watch his cock push in and out of your tight cunt.
Drawing even closer to the edge, you could feel the dam inside of you ready to burst, and Rafe could too; you were practically pulsing around him now.
“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” His low, nasally voice made your stomach flip, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to resist the inevitable. “Just do the one thing stupid sluts like you are good for and make a mess all over my cock.”
With another thrust, the dam burst, and you whined as your orgasm cut through you.
Rafe fucked you through it, cursing when he felt you squeezing around him like a vice. His grip on your throat tightened as his pace reached a crescendo.
“Fuck-” he growled, his hips stuttering before he pushed deep into you one more time, painting your walls with his sticky cum.
You squirmed beneath him, trying to push him off of you, but he easily grabbed your wrists, pining them down as he stayed buried inside you. You felt nauseous when his cock pulsed as you struggled, the reminder that he was still getting off on your distress was sickening.
His lips draped over yours again and you whimpered into the kiss, body still shaking as you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened.
By the time he broke the kiss, your head was spinning, and you somehow felt more drunk than when you had first entered the room.
When Rafe finally pulled out of you, you shuddered because you could feel his cum slowly leaking out of you.
Instead of getting off the bed like you expected, the blond shifted on top of you, lowering himself to get a better view of your sore pussy.
“Shit, Y/N, hope you’re on a good birth control,” he chuckled wickedly, and you squirmed when he used two fingers to push his cum deep inside of your sensitive cunt. “Cause there’s no way in hell I’m paying child support for some Pogue brat.”
Your cheeks burned in anger and shame, fear and disgust sparking in your gut at his words.
Rafe pulled his fingers out and climbed off the bed, quickly pulling his clothes back on before seemingly looking around for something as you slowly sat up.
He found what he was looking for, picking up your pink panties from the ground before locking eyes with you and then stuffing them into his pocket.
You shivered as he triumphantly smirked down at you, “I’m gonna.. get back to the party... You should clean yourself up, you look pathetic right now.”
Embarrassed, you looked down at the bed, not wanting to meet his eyes as he further humiliated you.
“And uh, don’t let me catch you alone again, Y/N,” Rafe sneered, laughing as he closed the door behind him.
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venusbyline · 2 months ago
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Fault ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 15, oct.
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— pairing: Spencer Reid x girlfriend!reader
— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)
— kink: safeword use
— summary: You knew things were different since Spencer came back from prison. But you never imagined he would hurt you so bad.
— word count: 1.2k
— tags/warnings: kinktober 15th day, female!reader, post-prison!Reid, dubcon, safeword use, ignored safeword, rough sex, vaginal sex, degradation, asphyxiation, breathplay, rape/non-con elements, fingering, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, crying, light bondage, overstimulation, sadism, no aftercare, ambiguous/open ending, curse words, switching, mild angst, dom!Reid, sub!reader, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.
— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917
— crossposting: AO3
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Ever since Spencer came back from prison, you had already noticed something different about him. You knew about the traumas and fears he went through when he was arrested, just as you knew about the constant nightmares he had, always involving those times or even involving you. He never wanted to tell you what they were about, but you figured they did not involve good things. They were probably about his traumatizing memories. His dark desires.
You also realized that Spencer was different when he did not come back refusing your touch, but searching for more. Mainly sexually. It was almost suffocating, precisely because he was a very different version of the shy, nerdy boy you had fallen in love with years ago.
Spencer always liked being submissive to you. Letting you take control of the moment. Letting you make him a whining mess, begging for more. More touches. More kisses. More sex. More of you. He always needed you to be the dominant side of sex.
But now... Everything has changed.
You knew your boyfriend better than anyone. You knew what he was doing was not just trying something new or being a switch. Spencer was punishing you.
With each rough thrust, with each cruel word spoken as he pressed you tightly against the mattress and placed his hands on your waist so he could increase his movements' speed even further.
Spencer Reid was punishing you. He was blaming you. He was blaming his own girlfriend.
You did not know exactly why. You could not remember anything wrong you could have done to him in the last few months. There was nothing that could cause such a huge change to his personality and your relationship's dynamics. There was nothing but the traumas tormenting his mind. His mental ghosts and cages.
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"S-Spencie, stop. It's too much, baby..." Your voice came out trembling and tearful while he gripped your neck tighter than expected, pressing your face into the pillow so hard that your hands immediately began to grip the sheets to try to lift yourself up.
Your lungs were begging for and you tried to move beneath him, his cock practically impaling you with each thrust, fucking you like he wanted to break you. You never cared if he was rough or if you were sore afterwards — even if it was rare because you were more dominant in the relationship, but being submissive for now could be just as good. At least if he did not seem to hate you every time he fucked you in the last few weeks.
"P-please stop... Spencer, it hurts. You're really scaring me..." You muffled, starting to panic at the feeling of the pillow preventing you from breathing properly.
As soon as you managed to put your hands behind your back to touch his chest, a loud cry out echoed throughout the room when Spencer took the opportunity to pull both of your arms back, holding you and lifting your body off the mattress, continuing to fuck you like an animal. "Fuck, couldn't you breathe, little princess?"
His words were bitter and sharp, making you whimper pathetically when he stopped moving his hips to bite your neck and mock you, keeping your hands firmly behind your back. "You're weak and pathetic. You know how much I endured inside that fucking prison? You know how much I'd to suffer and feel pain? And you're crying like a spoiled little cunt 'cause you can't breathe for at least a few seconds?"
You did not know what to say. You were scared and confused. Your mind was void. Completely blank. You could only focus on the pain you were feeling, having your hands being held by your boyfriend, the pain of his deep thrusts inside you and how it all seemed too much. Why did Spencer hate you now? Why was he fucking you like he really wanted to hurt you? To break you?
You knew you needed to say something. You knew you needed to say your safeword, the one that would make him stop everything. The one that would make him go back to normal or at least make his cock come out of your sore pussy and leave you alone for a while.
You knew you needed your safeword, but you could not bring yourself to say it. You could not say anything other than sob when he pushed your body back down, pushing your face harder as you struggled, starting to cry and sob in panic, squirming as he lowered himself onto you. Now, his chest was against your back and he kept fucking you even deeper and rough, but with one hand almost crushing your breast and the other rubbing your clit.
"Your pussy makes me sick..." Spencer growled, slapping your overstimulated bud hard and making you cry out with pain, tears flowing when you realized that he was going too far. "Stupid, brainless little bitch, crying like a whore while creaming my cock. That's all you're good for. I should tie you to this bed, fill you with cum whenever I wanted, even if you—"
"SALEM!"
Spencer continued fucking you after your voice full of pain, fear and despair, but he was in complete shock. You had screamed the safeword. You had actually screamed the safeword that you two chose since your first time together, when you remembered that the first thing he said when he met you at the pub was a random curiosity about the Salem Witch Trials. You had been together for years and none of you never needed to say that. You had never gone too far with him when you were taking the dominant role, but Spencer… He had brought this on you. On both of you.
He had not realize how destroyed he was after his arrest or how your relationship was already becoming almost toxic. Spencer had not realized why he acted like he hated you until he saw what he had done to you. Until he realized that he had continued fucking you for about twenty minutes even after you said your safeword. Your face red from crying, your sobs echoing through the room, your arms gripping the bed sheets as if they were an anchor of sanity for both of you, your body weak and trembling due to the rough of the last few hours...
Spencer saw the fear in your eyes. You were scared of him. "Baby... I'm... I'm so sorry..." He began to stutter, his voice panicked, as sweet as it was before he was arrested. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."
He pulled out of you, letting out a soft involuntary moan at the absence of contact, but his own eyes filled with tears when he saw how you sighed in relief amidst the crying and how your pussy looked swollen, reddish and bruised. Because of him.
“Love, I swear… I'm so—" He cut himself off the second you started sobbing and hyperventilating at his sudden touch of your hair. Spencer could not stop the tears from running down his cheeks, wetting his stubble. "Baby, please. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, love, believe me. Please, forgive me..."
Spencer Reid knew almost everything about the world. Any curiosity about physics, chemistry, mathematics, history, philosophy... but Spencer Reid did not know what had happened to his mind lately. He did not know how to fix his relationship. He did not know what to do to fix you. You were panicking. You were scared. You were so fucking broken. And it was all his fault.
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Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist
HOTD Edition - Masterlist
Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist
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aurynsia · 22 days ago
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hey, i really love ur blog and writing so much. can i request number 3 with James Potter from your prompt list? maybe an enemies to lovers, not really enemies but maybe they just get on each other’s nerves every time? I’m sorry I am rambling but I hope I give you the idea cleary.
It’s Tradition
James Potter x Ravenclaw!Reader
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Summary: James Potter always finds a way to make your blood boil, but a bit of homework and some magic reveals exactly why…
Prompt: “Who the hell hung mistletoe here!?"
Warnings: Grumpy!Reader x Sunshine!James, enemies to lovers, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.5K
Masterlist
A/N: Thank you!!! I tried to stay true to the request but reader ended up being evidently far more short tempered than James ;-; This is for my Christmas event, which you can participate in here! I hope you like it <3
——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
James Potter
Noun
Handsome captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, head boy of his house, infamous ladies man, full time flirt, and a total pain in your arse.
This was the boy that stood before you, grinning mischievously as he tilted over your table in the Transfiguration classroom.
“You’re good for a little bird, Ravenclaw, but you can’t beat me,” he remarked through his proud smile, “Minnie told me we tied for top of the class.”
“Bullshit, Potter!” You exclaimed in return, “I worked my ass off in this class while all you do is flirt with our classmates and get in my way.”
James frowned in faux offence, “Oi! I’m not just a pretty face you know.” You frowned back, though your expression was far more genuine than his. “Are too! You’re only tied with me because you charm our professor so much!” You pretended you didn’t just agree that he was a ‘pretty face’, holding your ground with arms crossed and frown immovable.
Soon McGonagall walked in and began the lesson, causing James to reluctantly walk back to his own desk. James had tormented you for the better part of a year now, rushing to answer questions in class with a cocky smirk and waving his high marks in your face, charming everyone around you while doing so.
At first he was sour towards you, turning his nose up at your clear intelligence and quick wit. But in more recent classes he began approaching you with a more teasing tactic, pushing your buttons directly in a way that felt almost flirtatious…if you squint.
“For the last week before winter break, you will be mastering the art of conjuration,” Professor McGonagall began, ”You will present an item to me by the end of the week - that you have conjured - and complete this task in pairs, which I shall assign. Now, seeing as we have a tie for first place, I believe this is the perfect opportunity to dismiss the lingering…tensions between our two brightest students.”
Oh, Merlin, no…you thought as your teacher continued, glancing over at James with a wince. “So, the first pair will be Potter and-“
——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
“Oh, sod off!”
“Godric, love, don’t get your panties in a twist!” James laughed as he stood by your table once again, watching you defeatedly pack your bag after class. “Knowing us, we’ll have that assignment finished in only a few hours.”
“It’s not the assignment I’m worried about, Potter,” you grumbled, refusing to meet his gaze. “Listen, gorgeous-“
“Don’t call me that.”
James took a step back. “Listen…all I’m trying to say is you won’t have to deal with me for long. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it,” he explained as you stood to leave.
“Just- come to Gryffindor tonight after dinner. We can get it done as soon as possible,” he spoke softly, appearing almost nervous as he pleaded with his puppy brown eyes.
“Fine,” you nodded, awkwardly shifting your feet as you faced him in the now empty classroom. “Brilliant! I’ll see you tonight,” he grinned, winking at you before leaving for his next class.
The day faded into night in the blink of an eye, hurdling you further towards your study date with James. You spent dinner groaning to your friends about how annoying the Gryffindor was, while James had an immovable grin plastered on his face.
“You know she’s required to spend time with you, right? It’s not like this is a date,” Remus said, raising a brow at James with eyes squinted in suspicion. “But that’s what’s so great about it, she’s forced to be in close proximity to me! I can work my magic, and by the end of the night she won’t hate me anymore!” James responded, eyes darting between the judging glares of Remus and Sirius across from him.
“Since when did you want to win her over? I thought you hated her back,” Sirius asked, mouth twisted in confusion and shock. “Well, I did…” James trailed off, “but I don’t want to end the year on bad terms, you know? She’s like, the one girl who doesn’t want me-“
“And that makes you want her?” Remus asked with a smirk, figuring out James’ motives before he even had a chance to confess. “Well…” James replied, grinning bashfully at his roommates with a slight blush.
“Oh, fuck off! You like her!” Sirius exclaimed a little too loudly, causing James’ eyes to widen and glance over to your position at the Ravenclaw table. You were still enthralled in your elaborate explanation of how James Potter was the worst person to ever live, unaware of the commotion from the Marauders.
“I- whatever…point is, I can finally make peace,” James whispered to his friends as if planning another prank on an unsuspecting Slytherin. “Just wait and see.”
——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
“What’s your favourite colour?”
This was the seventh question James had asked you in the first hour of your study session.
He was leaning towards you on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, peering over your notes and occasionally giving you surprisingly helpful advice on the task, though mostly just bombarding you with childish conversation and teasing remarks.
“James…” you sighed, and he perked up at the sound of his first name coming out of your otherwise unwelcoming mouth. “Why do you care?” You questioned, a tinge of vulnerability lacing your words.
“Dunno, just asking,” James trailed off, looking for a way to avoid your interrogation. “You look cute when you’re frustrated,” he suddenly said, grinning at your furrowed brows.
“Merlin, James, would you stop that? I thought you couldn’t get anymore infuriating, constantly showing off in class just for praise- but this is even worse!” You exclaimed, standing up and brushing off your uniform.
“Just because you’re so popular doesn’t mean you can tease me like that- just because you think less of me. I have a good reputation too, you know?”
James was following your movements now, slowly standing from the couch as you paced the common room. “I mean, I get great grades, I’m head girl of Ravenclaw, and I don’t think I’m exactly ugly either! So why, in Godric’s name, do you feel the need to condescend me like this?”
You were puffing, attempting to regain the breath you just lost in your fury. You stared expectantly at James, who now stood opposite you at the base of the stairs, biting his lip as he thought of what to do.
His eyes darted around the room, seemingly searching for an answer, before focusing on something directly above you. You slowly raised your gaze to find what he seemed so fixed on, before you gasped at the sight.
Above your head hung a precious bunch of mistletoe, tied with ribbon and enchanted with dancing light that swirled around it in magical circles. Your eyes widened, bringing your gaze back to the boy in front of you, who was already staring in return.
Come on Potter, James thought, kiss her now. If you can’t tell her how you feel, then just bloody show her.
You groaned to break the awkward silence, rolling your eyes. “Who the hell hung mistletoe here!?" You began, “I swear, you Gryffindors-“
James’ lips captured yours in an instant, muffling your next words as he hovered his hands over your waist and screwed his eyes shut in relief. You stood wide eyed and confused, tensing under the ghost of his touch and causing him to pull away.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- it’s just…it’s tradition-“ James panted for breath in front of you, staring at you with a mix of guilt and infatuation.
You softened under his gaze, stepping forward to press your lips to his in return. He sighed at the contact, finally wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning into the kiss. You gently traced your fingers through his curls, tilting your head to deepen the sweet moment.
When your lips finally parted, James looked like a pathetic mess. His glasses were askew, hair tousled and cheeks flushed, gazing at you with lidded eyes and parted lips. “Godric, I fancy you,” he breathed, “too much for my own good…”
You stared at him intently, examining his eyes for any sign that this might be yet another prank. When you found nothing but genuine adoration in his gaze, you smiled softly back at him. “I suppose I fancy you too, James.”
“Moony! Come out here, quick!” A voice called from the top of the stairs, causing you to look up at an excited Sirius Black in shock.
“What? Why- Oh, Gods!” Remus exclaimed, staring at your figure caught in his roommate’s embrace, James’ hands still around your waist and chest pressed close to yours.
Sirius glanced up, noticing the mistletoe teasingly hanging from the ceiling. He slowly looked back down, smirking at the two of you once again.
“Your conjuration is getting better, Prongsie,” he remarked. James looked back at you with a guilty smile, causing you to gasp.
“POTTER!”
——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
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ladyempty · 8 months ago
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Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭
° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. | ° | English is not my first language. |
Aegon I
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Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.
The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.
So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.
The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.
He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.
And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.
You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.
Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.
Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.
He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.
And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.
Maegor, The Cruel
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You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.
Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.
Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.
Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.
Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.
Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?
The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.
And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.
He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.
A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.
He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?
Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.
Daemon Targaryen
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Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.
Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.
And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.
As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.
But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.
It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.
Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.
He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.
He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.
But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.
But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.
For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.
"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…
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aphroditelovesu · 1 month ago
Text
⸻ The Lost Queen - XVIII ⸻
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— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.
— genre: yandere, dark!au.
— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.
— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.
— word count: 2,330.
— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.
— the lost queen series masterlist.
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Chapter 18
Roxanna felt restless, as if something inside her was in constant conflict. She paced her room, unable to rest, her thoughts racing around a single issue: her impending marriage to Alexander, the foreign conqueror who seemed to be engulfing the world with his ambition.
Her father had been clear. The union was strategic, a calculated move to ensure the survival of his people in the face of the sweeping changes that lay ahead. With Darius’s downfall looking increasingly likely, joining forces with the man who controlled the most feared armies seemed not only sensible, but necessary. ''It is for the good of all,'' he had said, with the grave tone of one who made decisions beyond his own heart. But his words found no echo in hers.
Roxanna tried not to let her panic show, but the reality was suffocating. She knew little of Alexander, only stories she had been told; enough, however, to recognize that he possessed a magnetic presence. His face was striking, almost chiseled, and his eyes shone with an intensity that could both fascinate and intimidate. He was the kind of man who seemed unshakable, but the force that drew crowds to his feet also made her uneasy.
The weight of this choice that was not hers was made even worse by the shadow of another woman. Alexander already had a wife. Roxanna had heard whispers about (Y/N), the so-called Lost Queen. It was a name that soldiers spoke with reverence, almost like a prayer, and it tormented her. (Y/N) was not dead, but missing, possibly captured by the Persians. Despite her absence, her presence seemed to dominate. The adoration that Alexander clearly had for his wife seemed to be transmitted to his men. She had heard that Alexander was sending out searches and preparing to invade Babylon, supposedly where his wife would be.
How could she, Roxanna, compete with her, a figure who loomed like a specter in the midst of Alexander's ambition? Roxanna was beautiful and she knew it. Her beauty was surpassed only by Darius's wife.
More than that, she felt an inner resistance to the idea of ​​sharing. She knew it was common for kings to have multiple wives, but still, the idea of ​​becoming one of many repulsed her. Roxanna wanted to be more than the second wife, more than a symbol of victory over her people. She wanted to be the first, the only. It was a foolish desire, perhaps, but it was hers.
Still, she knew it didn’t matter. The decision wasn’t in her hands. If Alexander wanted her, there would be no escape. Refusal was unthinkable. She would be forced to play the role of wife, to fulfill the role assigned to her, whether her heart was in it or not.
She would be ready to give her heart to Alexander. But he... Was he ready to give his to her?
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"A doctor has come to see you, my Queen." Bagoas’s soft voice cut through the silence of the room, respectful and controlled. He waited patiently at the door until you nodded, allowing him to enter. His gaze was always firm but affectionate, as if he were measuring the environment around him before taking a step. You couldn’t help but grow fond of the eunuch.
"Let him in." You replied, trying to hide the nervousness that was setting in. But the anxiety grew in waves, relentless, as the man entered the room. He carried with him a leather bag and a series of strange instruments. The sight of some of them, with their sharp, mechanical shapes, made your stomach turn. For a brief moment, you couldn’t help but think that they looked more like torture tools than healing tools.
You took a deep breath, trying to find calm. After all, this was an order from Perdiccas, who, even without saying it, showed genuine concern. The memory of him hugging you, holding your hand gently, whispering sweet words to you, was both comforting and disturbing. His presence awakened conflicting feelings. Part of you wished he was there, that he hadn't left the room so abruptly. But another part, hurt by the circumstances, wanted distance.
You needed to talk about what was happening. About everything. But not now. You needed to focus on yourself, on protecting yourself and the life growing inside you. At least, until Alexander came to get you.
Your gaze instinctively fell on your hands, which rested on the subtle curve of your belly. It was an almost unconscious gesture, an attempt to protect the life growing inside you. Although you weren't completely sure about the time, you estimated that your pregnancy was already close to four months. The idea was both beautiful and terrifying.
"How are you feeling, Your Majesty?" The doctor asked, his voice grave but gentle, as he took a few steps towards you. There was something in his gaze, a deep green that seemed to seek answers before you could even offer them.
"A little better." You murmured, trying to sound calm, but feeling the weight of your vulnerability. His eyes met yours, and for an instant, you felt disarmed, exposed. The tension in the air was palpable, and the anticipation of the upcoming examination increased the whirlwind of emotions that already took over you.
The doctor’s gaze fell on the discarded sheet next to the bed, where a small but unmistakable stain of blood marked the clear surface. He coughed discreetly, perhaps to disguise the evident discomfort he felt at the delicate situation.
"You were lucky," He said after a brief silence, gesturing for you to spread your legs. The request was direct, professional, but you couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks. The idea of ​​exposing yourself like that, even in front of a doctor, made your body stiffen with embarrassment.
But you forced yourself to keep your composure, taking a deep breath to push away the discomfort. "It’s like he’s a gynecologist," you told yourself in your head, trying to rationalize. He was a doctor, after all. It didn’t matter that medicine back then was rudimentary, or that you had doubts about the real effectiveness of his knowledge.
Details. Just details.
"Was I lucky?" Your voice came out in a low murmur, with a slightly bitter tone that you couldn’t hide. The whole situation felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a game that was out of your control.
And that was probably exactly what it was.
The doctor nodded, moving carefully as he lifted the light chiton covering your body. His gaze remained fixed on his task, professional but intense. "Yes," He replied, his voice deep but calm. "You almost miscarried."
The words hit you like a cold blast, making your heart clench. What had started as discomfort now became palpable fear. You knew the pregnancy was fragile, but hearing it so directly was a cruel confirmation of the vulnerability of this new life inside you.
Instinctively, your hands went back to your belly, as if trying to protect it from any unseen threat. The silence between you stretched for a moment, heavy, as you absorbed what he had said. It wasn’t just luck. It was a warning. And a reminder that your body and mind were carrying far more than they could bear alone.
The doctor carefully lowered your chiton before approaching you again, this time placing his hands on your belly. His initial touch was firm, almost rough, and you flinched instinctively, feeling uncomfortable with the pressure he was applying. He seemed oblivious to your reaction, completely focused on his assessment, but you could barely contain the shiver that ran through your body.
"Why are you doing that so hard?" You started to ask, but he held up his hand, interrupting you before you could finish.
"How long have you been pregnant, Your Majesty?" He asked, his voice serious, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that seemed to weigh on you.
For a moment, the question took you by surprise. His incisive tone and the way he stared at you made you nervous, but you knew you had to answer. Swallowing hard, you murmured, "I think I’m four months along..."
He nodded, but his gaze remained skeptical, as if questioning the accuracy of your answer. Stepping back, he seemed to ponder before finally uttering the words that left you speechless.
"I believe you are pregnant with twins."
"Twins?" You repeated in a whisper, almost as if you were asking yourself.
The doctor nodded again, this time with a more serious expression. He seemed to be measuring his words, but he still chose to be direct. "Your belly is more swollen than normal for a single pregnancy," He explained, his voice calm but filled with concern. After a brief sigh, he continued, this time with a darker tone. "Unfortunately, I must warn you of the risks. Giving birth to two babies... It’s dangerous. There’s a good chance you won’t survive the birth."
His words hit you like a blow. Your eyes widened, and the room seemed to close in around you. To die in childbirth. In ancient times. It sounded like a sentence you never imagined you would face. Terror settled in your chest, and for a moment it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could utter a word, another voice cut through the silence.
"I suggest you keep your comments to yourself."
It was Perdiccas, his imposing figure appearing in the doorway of the room. His tone was calm, but filled with disapproval as he fixed the doctor with a hard stare. His eyes flashed, as if ready to squelch any further attempts to alarm her. "My Queen is already terrified enough. We don’t need your unnecessary comments."
His presence filled the space, and you felt a mixture of relief and discomfort. Perdiccas had always been a complex figure in your life — protective and, at the same time, charged with an authority that sometimes felt overwhelming. Yet his words, even as a reprimand to the doctor, brought a strange sense of security. As if, for a moment, he was willing to carry the weight you feared to face alone.
The doctor hesitated, clearly disconcerted, but bowed his head in deference. "My apologies, Your Majesty. It was merely a warning." He gathered his things quickly, as if to avoid any further confrontation with Perdiccas, and bowed out.
Now, only the two of you remained in the room. Perdiccas approached slowly, his eyes softening as they landed on you. "I will not let anything happen to you," He said, his voice lower and firmer, like a promise he seemed determined to keep.
And in that moment, you allowed yourself to believe his words. There was something in Perdiccas’ tone, in the firmness of his promise, that seemed sincere. Maybe it was the vulnerability that enveloped you, making him an anchor in the midst of the whirlwind of uncertainty. Or maybe it was the old feelings, the ones you tried to bury, but that now resurfaced, stubborn and undeniable, creating cracks in the armor you had built over time.
He was there, close enough for his presence to warm the cold room, and for a brief moment, you felt a security that you hadn’t experienced in months. Against all the reasons your mind tried to list, you found yourself trusting Perdiccas once again, as if his promise were a rope pulling you out of the abyss.
Or maybe it was the pregnancy hormones.
You just hoped you wouldn't regret it a second time.
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Alexander was determined: he would only take Roxanna as his wife if he had the consent of (Y/N), his beloved and first wife, from whom fate had separated him. He knew that to unite with another woman without (Y/N)'s knowledge and permission would be the same as betraying the deep feelings he still harbored for her. It was a line that Alexander was not willing to cross. Acting in the shadows, making decisions that could hurt or dishonor (Y/N), would be an act he would never forgive himself for. The respect and love he had for her were unshakable, and even in the face of difficult circumstances, he was determined to honor them above all else.
But before any decision about Roxanna could be made, he had to recover (Y/N). There was no other path to follow while she was still beyond his reach. Alexander had already made his decision: he would leave for Babylon immediately. No matter the challenges, he was willing to face them.
He would mobilize his army for the mission, for he knew that no effort would be too great to rescue his beloved. He trusted his generals and soldiers completely, loyal men who had always followed him, and it would be no different this time. When he communicated his determination, he was certain that they would support him without hesitation, understanding that, for Alexander, the search for (Y/N) was not only a matter of love, but of honor.
"Call the generals immediately." Alexander's firm voice echoed through the room. The page, without wasting time, bowed hurriedly and ran off to carry out the order.
Alexander was alone for a moment, but his mind was far from there. He could almost smell (Y/N)'s perfume, that delicate and unmistakable aroma that had enveloped him so many times. He seemed to hear the soft melody of her laughter in the background and feel the gentle touch of her fingers against his skin. It was as if the memory of her was more alive than ever, calling him to action.
Finally, he would be going after her. There would be no more delay, doubts or hesitations. Every step he took now would bring him closer to (Y/N), and nothing in the world could stop him from bringing her back.
''I'm coming for you, my Queen.''
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— lady l: maybe a shorter chapter but that's because it's like a preparation for chapter 19 and especially 20. I hope you liked it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️
See you a in the next chapter! I'll probably post the next this weekend, though. It's practically ready. 😉
Also, expect a lot of drama to come! Alexander is coming to Babylon!! 😚
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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Hellooooo
Mae, could you maybe (absolutely no pressure or anything!!!) write something with Vampire!james x reader when he once again feeds from her and actually takes too much or so? Not like so much that it’s really bad or so but like too much, you know?
I haven’t thought about it a lot so I’m sorry that it’s so incomplete. The rest is yours to decide (as always)
(Sorry that my request is so messy, it’s the middle of the night for me)
Wasn't messy at all gorgeous! Thanks for requesting <3
cw: blood, lightheadedness/near fainting
vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 682 words
You don’t notice it happening. You suppose that’s probably by design—vampires are supposed to drain their victims, after all, and that biology doesn’t account for your gentle boyfriend and his willing bloodbag. You’re not cognizant of any change between when your mind feels pleasantly fuzzy and when it starts to slip away from you altogether, dark spots blotting your vision and your bones losing their solidity. James notices, though, when you turn to mush in his hands. 
“Shit.” His voice is garbled by fang and slurred by gluttony, his arms encircling you to better prop you up. You feel a warm droplet of blood trudge down your front as he takes his mouth from you in a hurry. James swears again, wetting the wound to close it. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Are you okay? Can you hear me?” 
You make some somnolent sound of reassurance, but it doesn’t seem to do its job well. James is panicky and upset, trying to calm himself enough to figure out what to do with you. 
“Okay.” He kisses your face, eyes watery. “I’m sorry. You’re okay. Let’s lay down, yeah? Come here.”
You’re not really up for following instructions, but James does the work himself, laying you sideways on the couch and propping your head on a pillow. 
“Stay awake, angel.” He lifts your legs some, holding your ankles in one hand while the other strokes up and down your leg soothingly. “Can you do that for me?” 
You hum. You’re feeling better already. It’s not like usual, where the fuzzy feeling starts to fade as soon as James takes his lips from you, but you’re beginning to feel more solid. “James, m’okay.” 
“I’m so sorry,” he says, voice hoarse with emotion. “How do you feel? Do you want some water?” 
“I feel better.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Just a little…a little weird. Hey. Jamie.” You cover his hand on your leg with yours. Your boyfriend’s expression looks tormented, his eyes glassy with self-loathing. “It’s okay, lovely. I’m fine, I just need a minute.” 
“I can’t believe I didn’t stop,” he admits in a near whisper. 
“I should have let you know.” 
“How were you supposed to? I was drinking you dry.” His voice thins. James closes his eyes, agonized. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That was dangerous. I could’ve killed you.” 
“You wouldn’t have,” you tell him gently. 
“I could have, I—” 
“James.” You sit up on your elbows. Your boyfriend’s brows bunch concernedly, but your head feels fine. Maybe your protectiveness of James is just more substantial than anything else in you. “You wouldn’t have, baby. Really. I know you’re worried you’re going to lose control or something, but that’s not what happened. We just both let it go a little too far. And when you realized what was happening, you stopped without even thinking about it.” You make your voice firm. “This was just a fluke. It was bound to happen at some point, but you’d never really hurt me. And everything turned out fine, right? Didn’t it?” 
James breathes out. “I don’t know,” he says uncertainly. “Are you fine?” 
“Yeah. I’m fine.” You give him a smile, reaching out your arms. 
James hugs you but doesn’t meet you halfway. He presses you back into the couch instead, his arms wound tight around your middle and stubble scritching against your cheek. 
“You promise you’re okay?” He turns his head to kiss your ear. “Be honest.” 
You rub his back. “I promise. I just needed a minute. It’s normal, you know?”
James sighs, his body sinking into yours. “Nothing about this is normal.” 
“I guess. But I was talking about, like, blood donation. This happens all the time in those cases.” You lie there for a minute, you soothing your palms over his back and him with his arms wrapped around you. “I feel fine to sit up now, by the way.” 
“No way.” James kisses the shell of your ear again. “You scared the shit out of me, baby. I’m never letting you up off this couch again.”
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voxslays · 2 months ago
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FULL MOON
Featuring >>> Alastor x Reader; In which, Alastor is hiding his seasonal rut cycle from everyone in the hotel, including you. Unfortunately, it isn’t very long until you find out what he’s been hiding…
WARNINGS: Smut, AFAB Reader, Dub-Con??, Seasonal rut
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It was late October, the time when sinners went into their seasonal ruts. For many years, Alastor had been able to pretend he was completely immune to the effects of the fall heat he felt. Being able to hide out until late November when his rut disappeared. Until this year, when you had arrived. You were a fellow deer demon, a doe to be exact. You were innocent, naive, and most of all, kind.
You knew of Alastor’s title, one he had earned from taking down and broadcasting the screams of countless overlords and other high-ranking sinners, becoming an overlord in record time. Yet, you never feared him. Alastor was curious about you, trying to truly get to know you. Not for your soul, but for you as a person. You intrigued him, entertained him. That was one of the reasons why his rut was extremely unbearable this year. He had no choice but to lock himself away from you and the other residents of the hotel—only coming out for meals—until his rut was over.
Alastor paced in his private quarters, his movements agitated and uncharacteristically erratic. The scent of your presence lingered in the halls, a sweet torment that set his nerves ablaze. He gripped the balcony railing, his claws digging into the marble as he fought to maintain control. ​​Not only did he feel the pain of his unbearable rut, but the major migraines from his shedding antlers. His antlers felt ready to drop at any moment, but not soon enough to ease his suffering.         
Alastor let out a deep groan of pain, his body wracked with tremors. He was losing control. He let out a roar of frustration, shattering several nearby floral vases. Just as Alastor is about to step into his bayou, he hears a knock on his door. Followed by a muffled voice calling his name. He quickly walks out of the miniature pocket-dimension, growing frustrated with whoever dares to interrupt his alone-time.
Alastor stormed to the door, his eyes flashing dangerously. He flung the door open, prepared to berate whoever had dared to disturb him. His words caught in his throat as he saw you standing there, your expression concerned. “Are you okay!?” You ask worriedly, pressing your hand to his burning forehead. “Do you have a fever?” Alastor's initial anger melted away, replaced by a hint of relief at your presence. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he savored the warmth of your hand. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice rough and hoarse from his recent roar. "Just a headache.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The scent of your concern was intoxicating, making his heart race. "I appreciate your worry, but I can handle it. It's just...a difficult time of year for me." He carefully states.
“Do you need anything? I’d be happy to help.” You give him a thoughtful smile. Alastor's resolve wavered at your kind offer. He wanted to accept, to lean on you, but he knew the risk. "You're too kind," he said softly, his hand coming up to cover yours on his forehead. "But I wouldn't want to burden you with my..." He trails off, his smile only slightly faltering. He paused, torn between his desire for you and his need to protect you from his rut. "...problems." He finished lamely, dropping his hand and stepping back. "I'll be fine. Just need some rest." He says, as sweat pours down his forehead, the room seemingly getting hotter and hotter. “Just come to me if you need anything. I hope you feel better soon!” You say, waving as you walk down the hall. Alastor watches you go, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to call you back, to lose himself in your comforting presence. But he knew he couldn't, not like this.
The last time Alastor had come out of his room was Sunday. It was now a Wednesday. You and the other hotel residents—mainly Charlie and Husk (for two very different reasons)—were becoming concerned. Charlie tried to convince Vaggie and you that Alastor was fine, and he probably just needed a little space—while Husk was positive Alastor was planning something. It didn’t really matter to you. You just wanted to know Alastor was okay. When Thursday rolled around, you decided enough was enough. You marched up to his room and gently knocked on the door, not sure if you would even get an answer. The knock echoed through the silent room. Alastor was sprawled on his bed, drenched in sweat and shivering. He groaned and dragged himself up, staggering to the door. He flung it open, expecting to see Charlie or Husk.
Alastor’s eyes widen when he sees you standing in the dimly lit hallway. “Where have you been!?” You ask, with a tone of concern. ​​“Wait a moment.” You say, thinking to yourself. Alastor watched you warily, his body trembling as another wave of need crashed over him. “You’re in your rut aren’t you?” You ask. You had remembered hearing somewhere that some demons could have seasonal ruts depending on their species and sins in life. From what Alastor had previously told you, it would only make sense he had entered his seasonal cycle.
Alastor's face contorted in a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and pain. "Yes," he hissed, clenching his fists at his sides. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. I can't control myself right now." He slightly trembles. “Wait-! Let me help you.” Alastor's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not. You can't." He trailed off, his breathing growing heavier as another surge of desire washed over him. "Please.” Your eyes meet, and you look into his crimson red pupils, now even redder with pain. “I don’t want you to suffer. Please, just let me help you.” You practically beg. Alastor's resolve wavers as he meets your gaze. The concern and care in your eyes nearly undo him. He takes a shuddering breath. "You don't know what you're offering," he warns, his voice rough with strain. "Once I start, I won't be able to stop."
“I don't care.” Something in Alastor snaps at your words. With a growl, he reaches out and gently pulls you into the room, slamming the door shut. He pins you against it, his body flush against yours. "Last chance to run," ​​You don’t dare move, too lost in his gaze. Alastor's eyes burn with an intense hunger as he looks at you. Without another word, he claims your mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss. His hands roam over your body, seeking relief from the torment. "Fuck," Alastor curses against your lips, his voice shaking with need. You gently cup his antlers, rubbing tender circles around them, relieving pain.
A low groan escapes him as you touch his antlers. He grinds himself against you, seeking friction. "More." Alastor pants out. His fingers nimbly unzipping the back of your dress, pushing it off your shoulders, and slowly sliding it off, watching it pool at your feet. His gaze drinks in the sight of you bare before him. His touch becomes gentler, reverent, as he explores every curve and line of your body. He leans down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, his hands sliding up your thighs and wrapping around to squeeze your backside. "So beautiful," His mouth travels lower, tracing the swell of your breast, his tongue flicking out to taste you. His body shudders as another wave of heat washes over him. He lifts you up in his arms, carrying you to his bed. He laid down, positioning you astride his hips. 
He guides your hips, helping you take him inside. A low moan rumbles in his chest at the exquisite feeling of you enveloping him. His hands grip your thighs as he starts to move, setting a deep, powerful rhythm. "That's it," He praises breathlessly ​​as you let out little whimpers and whines. The sound of your whimpers spurs him on, his pace quickening. He reaches between you, his calloused fingers finding the bundle of nerves at your core and stroking it rhythmically. You cry out, your nails digging into his back. Alastor's expression contorts with pleasure and pain. He lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking up sharply. He wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your stomach without breaking your union. 
His movements become feverish, his breath coming in short pants. You scream in pleasure, your face being gently pressed down into the pillow. His thrusts become brutal, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke. The force of his movements causes the headboard to bang against the wall. He reaches under you, his fingers finding your mouth, shoving them inside. He leans down, his chest pressed against your back as he pistons into you. His hips stutter as he reaches his peak, a deep groan torn from his throat as he spilled deep inside you. He bites down into your shoulder, his teeth breaking your skin.
You whimper, gripping the sheets beneath you with all your strength. As he comes down from his high, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, pressing them against your lips to silence any cries. He lays his head against your back, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Shh, my love," He whispers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You gently roll over, gently gripping his shoulders as you let out quick, shallow breaths. Alastor's gaze drops to where your bodies are still joined. He lets out a pleased rumble as he feels you tighten around him once more. He grins at you, his sharp, yellow teeth glistening with your blood.
You wipe the sweat off your forehead. He chuckles, nipping gently at your chin. "Mmm, you look delicious like that, my dear. All sweaty and disheveled.” You let out a quick breathy pant. “I am exhausted.” Your body is still slightly trembling. He grins wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. That means I did my job right.” He flexes his hips, his body stirring once more. “And only seventy hours to go.” Only seventy…What!?
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