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satoblue · 1 month ago

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“REVERENCE” — gojo satoru

satoru can’t help but boast about himself — about how great he is. so, maybe it’s time you show him how much you agree with that sentiment. | wc: 2.5k

MDNI, f!reader, established relationship (dating), slight religious themes, cock worship, praise kink, handjob (which he helps with) then blowjob, fic is lengthy like his cock bc i can talk about him all day, i feel like my smut always sucks but my baby boy deserves the world so i wrote it anyway : ( | dividers made by me

if there is one thing your boyfriend, satoru, is not— it would be humble.

when he hangs up on yaga a short while after his most recent mission, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table with a casual flick of his wrist like it offends him by daring to interrupt his greatness.

then, he immediately launches into one of his post-call victory speeches.

“he practically begged for my help, y’know?” satoru sighs like he can’t help it, rubbing his nape like it’s just another day of being himself.

he gestures dramatically, pacing in front of the couch like he’s on stage for you.

“ahh, what a pain. i mean, what else was i supposed to do? they needed me — like always.”

satoru folds his arms over his chest, pristine white lashes fluttering shut with a smug grin plastered on his face as he talks basically to himself. his head dips a bit, snowy bangs falling forward at the tilt.

“honestly, i should start charging just for existing in a room.” he jokes, as if he of all people required the extra cash.

“though, can you blame them for depending on me?”

“oh boy,” you mumble under your breath from behind the pages.

“and when i stepped in, yaga sounded so relieved. like, ‘oh thank god gojo’s here.’ as if there was ever a moment i wasn’t.” he smirks, clearly proud of himself.

you stifle a laugh, biting your lip.

usually, you’d let him bask in the glow of his own superiority, nodding along absentmindedly. but tonight? tonight you were feeling a little bold.

so instead, you softly hummed.

“i agree.”

as soon as the words leave your lips, satoru halts mid pose. then slowly, his head turns in your direction.

“eh?”

you smile innocently at his confusion, setting your book down in your lap, your attention now fully on him. “i said — i agree.”

his brows furrow, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing — slightly skeptical.

“you— you agree with me?”

“mhm!” you hum, stretching and arching your back just enough off your seat to get his eyes to flicker to your tits — like he isn’t always ogling them anyway.

“satoru, you’re right.”

his jaw drops a little.

what the hell is happening?

you never say stuff like that. normally, you just roll your eyes in that cute, indulgent way that says, “yeah, yeah, you’re the strongest — now shut up and pass me the remote.”

but this time?

this time you said it like you meant it. with that tone. that smile — the ones that make his knees feel weak, his cock throb, and his brain short circuit.

“wha—”

you get up slowly and saunter over to him, each step deliberate.

“you’re big and strong and powerful. kind of intimidating when you get serious.” you let your scorching gaze rake down his body. “i’d say i’m pretty lucky to be your girlfriend.”

there’s a pause. a beat of stunned silence.

then his mouth parts slightly, blinking rapidly.

“...for now?”, he questions with a tinge of hope.

“for now,” you reaffirm with a coy smirk. “if you keep talking about yourself like that, i might not be able to resist forever, ‘toru.”

and satoru, not a man easily flustered, turns three shades redder at your flirting.

“you— you’re— are you making fun of me..?”

you’re standing in front of him now, tracing your finger down the center of his chest slowly until he shivers, gasping softly at your nail hooking into the fabric of his shirt.

“no — i mean it.”

satoru doesn’t move. doesn’t even breathe. just stares at you with wide, blue eyes — the flesh of his cheeks contrasting it with a beautiful, blooming red.

you lean in, breath caressing the shell of his red-tipped ear, pecking it — a feathery brush, before pulling back slightly.

“and the way you fight?” you sigh dreamily like you’re swooning, fingers slipping to his nape, toying over his undercut. “you’re like a god.”

satoru’s hands hover awkwardly over your waist, as if unsure whether or not to grab you and check if he’s hallucinating.

“i— okay. this is— you can’t just—”

“but i can.” you interrupt, smiling up at him like you have all the time in the world. “no one ever gives you the worship you deserve, satoru. but me?” your voice drops low — seductive. “i’d kneel for you anytime.”

his whole body jolts, an involuntary reaction. and then his hands move before his brain instructs them to — holding onto your waist like it’s the only thing anchoring him to earth, pulling you in so close that your bodies are pressed together.

often, people tolerate satoru’s ego. they scoff or say he’s annoying. and they don’t look him dead in the eye and say ‘i’d kneel for you anytime’ either.

and now you’re touching his chest, looking up at him like he’s something worth worshipping. like he’s not just strong — but something more.

satoru wants to laugh — maybe even cry. maybe drop to the floor and beg you to say it all again but slower this time so it’s imprinted on his entire being.

if you keep talking like this, he’s going to lose. but be doesn’t exactly know what. satoru feels defenseless and vulnerable for the first time in his life — like he’s begging to be praised again.

he’s completely done for.

and he’s going to thank every god, every star, and every universe that you’re his.

for now, you said.

he’s about to make it forever.

“oh my god, you’re trying to kill me,” he mutters, breathless and panicked. “you— you’re being evil right now!”

you kiss his jaw lightly as he pouts. “no, baby. i’m just being honest.”

“okay,” he rasps, reaching behind him for the arm of the couch, his other hand dragging down his flustered face. “i-i need to sit down—”

you smile softly, eyes glimmering at the effect you have on him, guiding him so he doesn’t topple over. “of course, honey.”

he isn’t looking at you anymore — he can’t. his heart is pounding in his throat, and his cock is already twitching painfully in his pants that seemed so unbelievably tight now.

satoru isn’t used to this — not at all. he is the one who flirts — who teases. never the other way around.

but you? you’re giving it back tenfold.

no — you’re feeding his ego. fueling it. you sound like you are genuinely grateful the universe made a man like him and put him in front of you.

and it’s true. you have been thinking for a while that you don’t show or tell him much how you respect him. because to you, he’s not just a powerful sorcerer — he’s one of a kind.

there will never be another man like him. there will never be another satoru.

and there will never be someone like you in any world. to him, you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened. maybe even proof that if there is a god, they love satoru enough to give you to him.

without a word, you drop to your knees right in front of him, as if you were getting ready to pray.

“wha— wait, babe— what are you—?”

your hands are already sliding up his thighs, slow and reverent.

his breath catches, sentence stuttering to a stop. those legs of his jolt slightly when your fingers graze the huge bulge inside his pants. your touch is delicate — gentle even. gentler than anyone has ever handled him before.

you look up at him with a sweet, caring smile.

“i told you i’d kneel for you,” you speak softly, fingers grazing his belt. “did you think i was joking?”

satoru’s hips are lifting, betraying him as you successfully undo his belt with practiced ease.

you aren’t in a rush. you reveal him like a work of art — like something you want to admire.

his mouth opens to reply after a moment, but then it shuts again. oddly enough, he has nothing to say. he is rendered speechless, but his heart is filled with warmth regardless of the lewdness of the situation.

he loves you. god, he loves you so much it terrifies him.

if he could, he’d shout it from the skyline. hell, he’d tell god himself. that gojo satoru — your satoru — loves you so much that it makes his chest ache. like his heart was only made simply to hold you and only ever you in it.

but no matter how loud he says it, no matter how many times — it’ll never be enough. there aren’t words big enough in any language in the world to express what it is exactly that he feels for you.

when his cock springs free, flushed and hard and begging for attention — you actually sigh at the glorious sight.

“god, you’re so pretty.”

satoru cheeks are on fire now. “w-what…?”

you smile cheekily, tilting your head, fingers wrapping around the base.

“you heard me. you’re perfect. big, thick, and so… sensitive.”

you start lazy, like you’ve got all the time in the world and nowhere else you’d rather be than with your hand wrapped around your boyfriend’s cock.

he’s already hot and stiff in your palm, back resting against the couch with his legs splayed open, hair a mess from running his hand through it multiple times.

satoru’s breath hitches when your thumb sweeps gently over the soggy tip.

you give him a little grin. “already?” you tease though it’s affectionate by your tone, hand a mess due to his copious pre.

the chuckle he gives you is short and tense.

“for you? always.”

with a quiet hum of acknowledgment, you begin to stroke him slowly. so slow it’s torturous. small fingers glide down, then back up at a maddening pace — slicked up from the pearly white dribbling at the sides.

satoru releases a guttural sound, head tipping back, but his eyes stay fluttered open, half lidded just enough to watch you.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you’re so good at that it’s unfair.”

you huff, “i’m barely doing anything.”

and maybe that’s what gets him — because a second later, he’s reaching down. his large hand wraps around yours, firm and warm, and suddenly he’s guiding the movements.

not fast. just more insistent. needy and greedy.

his hand works together over yours up and down his cock in a way that makes his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“you’re—” he starts, then laughs breathlessly in a way that makes your heart stutter, his voice cracking. “you’re literally making me help jerk myself off right now.”

you murmur, watching his flushed, wrecked face. “you look so pretty like this...” it isn’t a response to what he said, simply a statement — a fact that you felt the need to say in the heat of the moment.

and the way your hand fits beneath his, nice and snug, makes it feel like something more than just sex. like something tender. something intimate and passionate.

then you squeeze just a little tighter, dragging a shudder out of him that makes you feel like the powerful one now.

“still feel like the strongest? because you are,” you whisper in reassurance. “look at this — so big, so perfect. you’re unreal, satoru.”

then, you kiss the leaking tip — and his thighs tense.

satoru makes a sound halfway between a choke and a prayer, watching you on your knees for him, mouthing at his cock like it’s something sacred.

your lips wrap around the head of his cock, slowly, and satoru’s hands fist the couch cushions like they are the only thing keeping him steady.

he lets out a wavering, “oh—”, voice cracking. you barely have him halfway in and already his chest is heaving, his blue eyes wide and glazed over.

you stare up at him as you slide lower, your lips wet and glistening, cheeks hollowing just a little. and that eye contact— fuck. it’s dangerous. you are dangerous. and yet, every warm inch of your mouth feels like heaven.

he exhales sharply.

“s-slow down,” he manages, a trembling hand brushing back your hair in an affectionate gesture just to see more of you. “i’m not gonna last if you keep—nghh—that thing you just— yeah, just like t-that!”

you lick a patient, wet stripe from the base to the head, keeping your eyes locked on his like you need him to see how much you adore this — adore him.

you aren’t bobbing or rushing — you were savoring.

you suckle gently on the angry red tip, tongue swirling in lazy circles while your hand worked his cock with precision — like you knew his body better than anyone, how to make him absolutely lose it. your other hand massaging his thigh, grounding him, as if to say ‘relax — i’ve got you.’

satoru’s breath comes in broken gasps, hips bucking into your mouth — but not too much as to hurt you.

“say you love me! pleasepleaseplea—!”

he needs to hear it, so you do.

a warbled ‘i love you’ around his cock is all it takes before satoru cums with a hoarse and desperate moan, pushing your head down all the way without a care, stroking your hair in apology as you choke around his girth along with the flow of his thick, heady semen — his mind too clouded by the pleasure as he fucks your face.

“oh my god, yes— yes—!”

you don’t stop, easing him through his orgasm as you swallow down his cum. you took it. every last drop. swallowed it all down like it was what you were born to do.

satoru continues to twitch inside your throat and against your tongue, fingers trembling where they are tangled in your hair, body shaking like you’ve just sucked the very soul out of him.

when you finally pull off with a pop, he’s absolutely boneless and weak — legs spread wide, chest heaving, flushed all over.

his shirt has ridden up, exposing a strip of stomach and his happy trail — his expression that of pure awe and satisfaction as he stares down at you with half lidded eyes and parted, pink lips.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a smug smile.

“still need to sit down?” you tease.

satoru blinks at you in surprise.

then, he exhales a sharp laugh, dragging you up off the floor and into his lap, still breathless and shaky — but kissing lovingly and gratefully along the soft skin of your neck.

“i’m gonna make you forget your own name,” he mutters against your skin. “just— give me, like, two minutes first.”

he truly is blessed.

#᠙𑣱 — aomi writes #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo headcanons #jjk drabbles #gojo smut

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kenyummy · 1 month ago

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✰ 06. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 06. take a bite.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: hi lovelies!!! unmmmmm its been a very hot minute. sorry!!!! my job and uni prep have taken me hostage not to mention math exams woooowweee. im gonna try and be more active now and post a bit more, so hopefully look forward to that!!! also ill answer any asks asap 💞💞 ily all ok muah

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

You think you mayyy have gotten ahead of yourself. A very slim maybe.

Sure, all these things probably needed to be said at some point, but jeez, you'd never met the guy before. You could've given it at least a day or two. Now, you're stuck in this situation. Cringing at yourself in the mirror, holding back from slamming your head against the mirror to rid yourself of these crippling memories.

Your eyebags—they speak for themselves—and your expression is anything but pleasant.

Last night was awkward. Awkward can't even begin to describe it, actually. It was excruciatingly awful, looking back on it. You have no idea what he is or was thinking, ir even how he acted outside of those diary entries. Maybe these assumptions were wrong. Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew.

(But it was hard to think this way when his expression; his words, they seemed to resonate with it so deeply).

Regardless, you can't dwell on this forever. You have a mission to do. Mission being; not failing school and incurring the wrath of your father. And getting back home. But that was a given.

You barely feel like yourself. You don't even look like you. This house isn't yours, nor are these clothes. The scent you spray onto your body isn't familiar, and even the shampoo on your nightstand is tacky and strange feeling.

All this time, you had never felt this lost. You may not be alone, but in this giant mansion, away from all your friends—you may as well be.

Your siblings were strange and unlikeable to you. You had barely even seen your father since you'd gotten here. Alfred was the only person you seemed to be able to even have a semblance of a normal conversation with. The knowledge is daunting, but not painful. You don't care.

It's all temporary, anyway.

... You hope. But knowing Reed, you'll be back before you can say, Hello, New York.

In a math class you've already done a year ago, you find yourself beginning to doze off with these thoughts plaguing the forefront of your mind. Cheek squished upwards in your hands, you aren't worried.

Your spidey sense is really handy; your head will tingle with that familiar static when the teacher's suspicions grow to large and you've already done your work, anyway.

But Harry doesn't seem to be doing so hot, you note when your eyes snap open and your pen finds a home in the dips of your fingers. As the teacher walks past your seat, you glance back at Harry's spot. Away from you, and on purpose, for sure. (At least, knowing you and your Harry—the amount of mischief whispered behind your hands was impalpable and certainly not appreciated by your teacher.)

He looks distressed by the worksheet in front of him, and small bits of laughter rumble from your chest. You feel gleeful, the best you'd felt from this crummy morning.

Those blue eyes meet yours and are practically screaming for help, to which you have to hide your smile behind a hand. The girl beside you shoots you a confused look, but nevertheless focuses on the math in front of her.

He mouths, Help me. It's a bit difficult the sound the rest out, but you think it's a mix of, This is impossible and I can't do this anymore.

Without much else of a clue on what you could possibly do to help him with that dictator of a math teacher around, you shrug your shoulders.

I'll help you out at lunch, you wordlessly mouth to him back, making a small heart with your index finger and thumb to go along with a sly wink. A teasing gesture, something you'd find yourself doing with your own best friend back home. Nothing more, nothing less.

His cheeks flush with a bright red before he chuckles to himself, lowering his head as if you couldn't still see that he was grinning stupidly to himself. Hand resting at the back of his slim neck and pen limp in his hand, not even pretending like he was actually doing something.

The reality dawns on you again and you turn away.

Once again, your stomach sinks. Not at him. Not at the prospect he thought you were flirting. Just at how, even for a second, you were unable to forget that this was not your home.

Once again, you feel lost in your own skin and nothing about you seems to sit just right.

... Even through your years of crime fighting, even through the hate and backlash from the public, even when a Skrull had stolen your face and you had looked yourself dead in the eye—not once have you felt as estranged as you have now.

"I hate teen drama." MJ moans dramatically, draping her arms on your shoulders and slumping, putting all her body weight onto you and you find yourself having to cling to her shoulders to keep her upright. If you didn't have that enhanced strength, you think you'd fall right down with her.

Harry slams his locker door shut and shoots her an amused look, "What happened now? That guy you were talking to ended up having a girlfriend after all?"

"Even worse." She tilts her head up to look at him from where it still lay against your shoulder, cheek smushing against the fabric of your shirt, "His ex is cuckoo. Like seriously,"

She spin her index finger around her head and then knocks against it with a closed fist. "There's something up with her. She hasn't stopped glaring at me since third period. I think she actually wants to kill me."

"That makes two of us," you speak, pushing her up so that it doesn't look like she's trying to fuse into you Steven Universe style.

She crosses her arms and frowns, red brows narrowing down at you, "I'm serious! What are you gonna do if I die? You can't take the comedic relief out of an already-established trio."

"You think you're the comedic relief?" Harry asks, genuinely surprised. MJ doesn't seem to take this too kindly—understandably.

You'd say you're pretty funny. Or your version of yourself, that is... this you. You aren't sure about the other you. Seemed pretty glum, but you digress. You'd be mad at the world if you were born here too, as harsh as that sounds.

Students pour out around you and you hear the bell chime around you. The day is over, as fast as it began. Too bad. You almost found yourself enjoying school.

Because at least that meant you didn't have to go back home, a place where you felt the least like yourself than anywhere.

"[name]?"

A hand waving itself in front of your face makes you blink back to reality, staring up at its owner. Harry looks concerned, an expression you think you've been seeing a lot of on his face and it's ridiculously defined cheekbones lately. "Are you okay? You spaced out again."

Again? Has this been happening lately? You hadn't even realised. Even your base instincts, your enhanced senses, hadn't even snapped you out of it.

"I'm okay. Sorry. Just uh..." You press your lips tightly together, gaze lowering. "Having some trouble at home."

You say, and you really don't want to elaborate.

"Is it with your brothers again?" MJ speaks softly, quietly, even though there's barely anybody left in the hallways after school hours. Your eyes widen a tad. You're sure you'd never told them anything, and you guessed this original you wasn't too keen on sharing their personal life either, so...

"How...?"

"They're not exactly subtle in sending you to the poor school then never bothering to pick you up in one of their fancy cars." MJ rolls her eyes. "You literally take the public bus home. Bruce Wayne's kid. It doesn't really take a genius to figure it out."

You chew down on your lip. They're right. It's not as subtle as you thought. A strong pair of arms wrap around you and your face heats up when your chin digs into Harry's woollen sweater.

"[name], we don't care. Their loss. You don't need them, you have us. Always, no matter what."

... Does he think you're upset about this? Embarrassed? Really, you aren't. But the gesture is sweet and you really do love your friends, so you don't hesitate to hug him right back.

"Thanks," you murmur, eyes not meeting his as MJ places a soft hand on your shoulder. Maybe you should be sad? It's a bit unnatural to appear so stoic when you talk about something like this, no? "But it's fine. It doesn't bother me anymore. You're right. I have you guys, and you two are more than enough."

"Since when did you get so good with words?" MJ slyly eyes you up and down, thoroughly amused. "You know, the old you would've just told us it's nothing and everything's okay. What happened?"

A smile forms across your lips. This time—a real one. "I guess I just had an epiphany. Not even my ego's more important to me than you guys."

My family.

You walk out through the gates laughing. A few other students still surround the building and even fewer walk out behind you and your friends—probably those bothered enough to take up after school tutoring programs and clubs and anything of the sort.

The ones that linger at the gate are frantically texting on their phones—probably spamming their parents to hurry and pick them up, because it was starting to get cold again. The clouds fog up the clear sky and blocks the sunlight from hitting the ground, so the world around you is dim as well. Not a good look for Gotham.

"We're so gonna get jumped." MJ blurts out, gripping the straps of her bag tightly. "Me and [name], I mean. You're totally safe, Harry. You and that driver of yours. Tell him I said hi, by the way."

"You're throwing shade now? I told you both you're welcome to drive with us if you want to."

You shake your head, no matter how much MJ's eyes brighten. "You live all the way on the other side of Gotham. We don't want to bother you. We all know how your dad gets when you slack on your homework."

Harry hums, "Yeah, but he likes you both, so it cancels out."

"Norman likes me?" MJ looks positively flabbergasted at this news, as if she hadn't even considered it before. "He always gives me the strangest smiles. I thought he secretly wanted me out of your life."

"Trust me, if he wanted you out, he wouldn't keep it a secret." Harry sighs, exasperated. "Actually, he respects you a bunch. He's seen you on TV a few times with your reporting work experience. Dad thinks you're the kind of reporter this city actually needs."

MJ places a hand over her heart, as if it were suddenly warmed by this strange act of kindness showed by The Normal Osborn.

A loud rev grabs all of your attention before you can even think of what to ask next. Whether Norman liked you, or even superheroes in general. Whether the Green Goblin was even a thing. So many questions, and such little time.

You turn to where the obnoxious bike noise came from, and your blood runs cold. All warning signals in your head go off and you can't help but instinctively ball up your fists.

Your (?) brother. Jason. He sits atop a stationary motorcycle, a strange smile atop his lips and a black helmet snug under his bicep. He's wearing a black biker outfit you'd never once ever imagine would exist in real life and MJ is literally gawking.

His eyes seem to have caught yours before you'd even noticed he were there. Now, when you're staring at him in such dumb looking shock—he gestures toward you, "C'mon. I'm takin' you home today."

"Wh... what...?" You splutter, fingers digging into the toughness of your palm. "Why? Nobody said anything about..."

Jason swings his leg over the seat of the motorcycle and adjusts his rear view mirror absent-mindedly, "Spur of the moment. I wanted to spend more time with you."

Harry and MJ, from beside you, coo quietly at you, teasingly. Despite your love for your friends, you really wished they could see the dread slowly seeping into your skin.

You feel like you're on your last leg when you conjure up the lamest excuse you could possibly come up with. "... I don't have a helmet. It's not safe."

"You're with me. You think I'll let anything happen while I'm here?" His words are sweet, like those of a regular elder brother. Normal sounding, to your friends who give you a small nudge to your side.

But you know better. You've seen him covered in sticky crimson blood and you've seen the shiny metal of the mask that covers his face.

You know that his words aren't as sweet as they are a promise. A promise you're entirely sure he is willing to uphold and keep at any means.

... But what can you say? Nothing that won't give away his identity, or even your entire family's. You're left in a corner, with nowhere to go but forward. Right into the lion's den.

Taking his hand feels more like a sort of demonic deal with the devil than it probably should've. Still, his gloved fingers wrap around your own, carefully and practised, with all the warmth of a human and all the delicacy of an older brother.

He slips his helmet on as you settle behind him on the seat, tentatively holding him so you don't go flying back. "Hold on tight. You're not gonna fall, trust me."

You know you won't, and even if you do, you'll be fine. Still, when he revvs up the engine and drives off into the cool Gotham air, you feel a strange hardness of your limbs start to build.

The wind bites at your cheeks as he revvs his bike up. Your arms are wrapped snugly around his waist, leather feeling rough under your fingertips. Despite the physical need to hang onto him so you don't go tumbling off the seat, you find yourself wanting to put as much physical distance between you and Jason as possible.

Your head is awkwardly bent back so it isn't squished against his back, and you have a feeling he's a bit miffed about this fact. That you're still so unwilling to be beside him. But that's just your guess. You'll never know what he's thinking with that helmet blocking out each expression and his head facing straight to the road.

Even with this concentration, he still decides to speak. "Didn't know you were still friends with that guy. Harvey?"

"Harry," you correct him, though you aren't sure why.

"Yeah. Harry. That rich kid who gave up the exhilarating life of Gotham Prep to go to school with you." Jason's tone is light, and he doesn't seem to be too serious with his words. He's trying to make conversation, and it's strange, because you can tell he isn't really sure on how to do it. "I always thought he was good for you. He hasn't got a stick up his ass like the rest of those snobs at Bruce's galas."

"At least you approve of him," you say quietly. Barely even hearing yourself over the sound of the wind hitting your ears.

"That's more than you can say for a lot of those other brats you used to hang out with, you know." He almost sounds amused, despite how dead your tone was. "Hated all of them. These two ain't bad."

You wonder what those so-called brats were like. Other rich children all couped up together for the sole fact they're all born from wealth? Jason not liking them didn't really discern much about them to you, because you got the impression Jason didn't like many people.

You had the impression Jason didn't like you. But looking at your situation now, you couldn't be furthur from the truth, it seemed.

Silence fills the space between you both for a bit. Driving down the busy highways into darkening skies, as the clouds start to grey and the sun waves its last goodbye. When there no longer lay any witness but the moon itself, watching over the crime-riddled streets of Gotham, where you, somehow, were taken away from without a second thought.

Red fills the sky. Red, like Jason's helmet—not currently being worn, but an image you could never really remove from your head when you'd look at him.

Red, like your suit. Red, like the blood flowing through your veins. It colours the ground above you and will eventually turn into an array of violet hues. That's how it all concludes, in the end.

Jason takes a turn off the busy street and it goes quiet. He slows down a bit to match the speed limit—which feels strangely out of character for him, but you digress. He takes this opportunity to finally have his voice be heard above the onomatopoeia of cars and angry honks of the drivers within them.

"... This is nice. Never picked you up from school like this, huh?" Despite not being able to see him from where you sit behind his back—you can practically feel his smile. "We should do this more. How do you even get home usually, anyway? Alfred never goes around these parts."

... You debate on telling him or not, but assume it doesn't matter whether you do or not in the end. If he wants he know, he'll just find out. No use in delaying the inevitable. "I take the public bus."

If he could stop in the middle of driving, he would. Even if he was driving, without a car behind him, you're sure he'd brake abruptly and send you flying off the bike. His hand twitches around the handle and panic is sent flaring through your nerves like electricity. "What? You actually go on that shit?"

You know he probably didn't mean for it to sound the way it did, but you're annoyed nonetheless. "Well, not like I had much of a choice. Would you rather me walk the way?"

His lack of a response tells you all you need to know. You aren't keen on continuing this conversation, so for now, it's just silence.

Slipping off the motorcycle, you shake the wind out of your hair and brush down your clothes. Jason barely even looks at you as he places his helmet on the table beside the front door and slips the keys into his jacket pocket.

"Thanks for driving me." Despite your... complicated feelings towards him and the rest of your family, you are a polite person. Your aunt had always raised you right like this. "But you don't have to worry about doing something like this again... I'm fine taking the bus."

You say, with all the subtlety of a man dying of thirst. Practically yelling for him to just leave you the fuck alone. At least putting it in a mildly kind way.

He hums, expression unreadable to you. Then, he smiles. A stark change in his features from when you'd first gotten a glimpse of that contempt face. When you'd first saw him. "Don't be so humble, okay? I'll take you home every day from now on. Even if there's crime, I'll finish it up quick and we can ride home together. Just you, and me. With your big brother. That's fine, right?"

... You didn't realise when he had started moving closer to you while speaking, but now he was standing right in front of you, a hand on your shoulder and a dangerous glint in his eye (that, yoy aren't sure even registers to him at all).

Your brain buzzes with static sirens. Warning. Yelling for you to run away, move, fight him, do anything except stand there frozen like a deer in headlights. Fingers twitching with the urge to punch, claw get away—but you don't.

You grip the sides of your shirt, knuckles feeling weak under the pressure. No longer can you force the words you want to say out of your mouth. "... You don't have to bother. I'm serious."

He smiles. "Alright. I have some errands to run. Wasn't supposed to be here today, anyway." Changing his biker helm out for his signature red one, he pats your shoulder a few times before walking past you. "Goodnight, [name]. Don't stay up too late, yeah? Study for that test you got."

You can't even begin to question how he knows you have a test coming up when you're sure you'd never told him, when the thought pops up in your head that no, he absolutely did not listen to you. And yes, he absolutely will continue to keep waiting outside your school for you to drive you home with uncomfortable conversation.

You almost fall over in the hall's entrance when Jason shuts the front door behind him. You shove your face into your hands, squeezing your eyes shut and willing the memories of that drive into the back of your mind, where you wouldn't have to think about it.

But... he is right. You do have that test, and that simple fact is the reason why you pick yourself up, just as Spidey does, and decide to go to your room. Down the first living room, into the kitchen and dining room, and past—

"W—whoa!"

You're going to cry. You genuinely might start bawling. After that godawful moment, you've now crashed straight into a fucking brick wall. A moving one, at that. ... But it can't be just brick, because you think your nose is starting to bleed from the impact (if the warmth dripping down your chin is anything to go by), and you've slammed head first into concrete before with no reaction.

Just what the hell is—

"Shit!" A guy's voice curses. Unfamiliar, different from anything you'd heard here in this house before. When you crack open your eyelids, you see... Shaggy black hair, a very strange style of clothes, and the brightest blue of eyes you'd ever seen. "Shit, I'm so sorry! I should've looked where I was going—"

"Kon? What—"

Tim's face pops up from behind him just as you stand up on your own two feet, and the look on his face is something you can't even begin to describe. As soon as he gets an eyeful of you, and sees the trail of red seeping slowly from your nose down to your chin—where it drops down to the floorboards below—his entire demeanour shifts.

Subtly, but not subtle enough. At least, not to you. You don't think this Kon notices it.

"What happened here? What did you do to my sibling?"

Kon raises his hands in defence, eyes widening, "I'm so sorry, I didn't look where I was going, and—"

"Are you serious?!" Tim's brows furrow deeply and he almost growls like a damn dog as he sneers, "You hurt my sister, and all you can say is that you didn't look where you were going? Don't be stupid, Kon!"

"Look, I'm really sorry—it was an accident. Why are you getting so worked up—"

"You made her nose fucking bleed, dumbass! You know she's not like the rest of us! I told you to be careful around her, and look what you've done!"

Before Tim can tweak out even worse, you speak up, in the most monotone voice you can manage. "I'm okay. Don't worry. I'll just go clean it up."

The two boys look to you in shock, seeing a tissue already shoved up your nose and your face clean of any bloodstains. Void of anything except the drip of red on your shirt.

"But... But—" Tim's tone wavers a little as he steps closer, "What if it's broken? I'll help you—"

You hold your hand out, stopping him in his tracks as it collides with his chest. Shaking your head, you clench your jaw to try and alleviate the throbbing pain. "It's not broken. It's just injured. I'm okay."

The boy with piercings—Kon—he presses his fingers into his palm from his face behind Tim, looking rather guilty. "Sorry, um... Kon. I didn't look where I was going, either. That's my bad."

That name sounds strange to say in your mouth, and Kon himself seems surprised to hear you say it. "No, no, it was my bad. I'm so sorry, [name]."

His expression and words were genuine, enough so that your head starts to clear from its panic and you feel a sense of calmness finally wash over you.

But, your fingers still twitch when Tim gives you a forlorn look of almost longing.

You don't say another word, rushing past them snd going to your room—where you could bury your face into your pillow and pretend like none of this existed. Where you could climb out the window, suit clinging to your frame, and become the you that you'd always loved most.

The one who was free, swinging through the skies and cutting the wind like it meant nothing to you. The you that only ever felt like the real one.

And even if just for a moment, you could believe that this was your only you.

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amomentsescape · 7 months ago

Note

Slashers handling ovulating s/o?? 😚

Btw I love your work so much! You’re amazing

Slashers with Ovulating! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo

Warnings: MDNI, suggestive and mature content (It gets pretty steamy but nothing too crazy)

A/N: Definitely the most NSFW fic I've posted on this page. As a reminder, I don't write smut so this will probably be as steamy as I get for my posts. But this was a fun request, and I enjoyed writing for it! Thank you, Anon!

Freddy Krueger

Your dreams give you away

(Yes, he'll watch your dreams if he's not already controlling them; there's no privacy with this man)

And he's very interested in these dreams you've been having recently

It only takes a couple for Freddy to quickly snap

You'll go to sleep one night only to find yourself immediately in Freddy's domain

The setting and environment feeling very familiar somehow

You won't see him at first, but you'll definitely feel him around you, his voice echoing around the dreamscape

"Wanna make those dreams come true, baby?" he cackles throughout the darkness

Before you'll be able to respond, you'll feel his hand slide over your waist

The question was mostly out of politeness

He's not going to let you say no now that he has you (not that you were going to anyways)

Michael Myers

He picks up on everything in an instant

Your smell, your actions, your voice- literally everything is screaming at him

Now, Michael has a lot of self-discipline

He could just go about the day like usual and not need to indulge in anything

But he wants to

Don't mistaken this for "giving in"

It's just another way for him to put himself in control

You're just so desperate for him that he can just about get away with anything he wants

A simple touch has you weak in the knees, a slap on the ass has you arching your back

He could just absolutely ruin you these next few days

And he is very much planning on doing so

Jason Voorhees

Jason is fairly innocent when it comes to this sort of topic with you

But unlike Bubba, he does pick up on your teasing after a bit, he's just too flustered to do anything back

He loves the attention, but the way you're making him feel is causing him to freeze up and blush wildly under his mask

He knows you love him, but he can't understand how someone like you could possibly desire someone like him

He can't even hold eye contact with you when you're looking at him like that

When you've finally grown too impatient, you'll hop on his lap and grab his cheek, forcing him to look at you

He'll give you a big sigh and concerned eyes, silently asking if you're sure

"Jason. I want you. I want you and only you."

Those words must have been laced with magic, because a switch flips, and he's suddenly standing up, holding you bridal style

He'll toss you onto the bed and crawl on top, suddenly more confident than earlier

Looks like all he needs is a little bit of reassurance during this time of the month

Thomas Hewitt

It might just be the primal side of him, but he can literally smell it

Your pheromones during this time of month are always consistent to the point that he anticipates this weeks in advance

He lingers around you more often than normal (which isn't saying much since he stays near you 99% of the time anyways)

He's just waiting for the moment that you'll let him take a bite

And if you bump into him just slightly, his breath hitches and he'll freeze, hoping maybe you'll turn that bump into something more

Stands a little too close to you so he can breathe in your scent

But he's also hoping it'll increase the chance of you rubbing up against him on "accident"

This only makes things worse for the both of you until you two are finally alone together

All you have to do is give him that look, and he's throwing you over his shoulder, locking you two away for the night

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is a very innocent man

He didn't even really know what the concept of "sex" was before you

So unfortunately for you, pulling out all stops will quite literally do nothing

You could stand there completely bare in front of him, and he'll sweetly think you want to shower

That's not to say you're constant touches and flirting don't do anything for him

They do, he just doesn't understand what that feeling is yet

When you finally get to be alone with him, you'll gently let your hands wander, watching carefully at his reactions

Once you hit a sensitive spot, you'll know

His breath will hitch and he'll give you this soft, pleading look

And once you kiss him, that fire inside him will quickly engulf his body

You just have to give him a sweet questioning glance, and he'll be feverishly nodding his head, grabbing at your wrists to continue

Brahms Heelshire

To be honest, whether or not your ovulating doesn't really change how Brahms acts around you day to day

Because he is always down bad for you

But he does appreciate how quickly you seem to return his advances during this time of the month

He enjoys turning it into some sort of game when he can too

You'll feel his breath on your neck, only to be met with an empty room

You'll feel his gaze on you all throughout the house without a single sight of his whereabouts

When you finally have had enough, you'll break

Turning on the shower peaks his interest

And the moment he sees that first button of your top open, he's revealing himself from the walls

You've been working so hard for him today

He thinks it's time for you to finally relax

Norman Bates

Norman knows before you do

The sweet man tracks your cycles for you, always wanting to be prepared to care for you in the way you need

But this time of month isn't one where he feels too bold

He becomes even more shy somehow, having trouble holding eye contact

Every kiss or hug from you sets him aflame, and he turns into a blushing mess

It's honestly like he's the one who's ovulating

And all you have to do is hold him for just a little bit too long and whisper in his ear to make him break

He'll quite literally fall to his knees in front of you, waiting for anything

He'll do whatever it is you ask

Like I said, he wants to care for you in any way you need

Billy Loomis

He tries to be smug about everything

You're more affectionate than normal, even doing some PDA that he's not used to from you

He just acts like his usual self out in public

But the moment you two are alone, he confronts you

He'll pin you against the door, his free hand wandering across your skin while he looks at you with dark eyes

"You think I can't see what you're doing? It's not very nice of you to be such a tease."

His voice is barely above a whisper while his grip on you tightens

His wandering hand finds the most sensitive spot on you and squeezes, causing you to let out a whimper

He smiles in return

"You're going to have to do better than that to make it up to me," he whispers, leaning in gently

Stu Macher

Look at this guy

He literally can't keep his tongue in his mouth (sorry, bad joke)

He can tell something is up though

You're more cuddly than usual, practically sitting on his lap at all points during the day

And Stu does not mind one bit, but he isn't sure what's gotten into you

You're hoping he'll take the hint, but he's as oblivious as he is happy

It's only when you straddle his lap and kiss him deeply that he understands what's going on

His hands are on you in an instant

He'll happily oblige to your "demands"

Just be careful when and where you decide to break though

Because the moment you open that door, Stu will be having you in that instant

And if he has to pull you into a broom closet in public to do so...

He will

Vincent Sinclair

Despite barely seeing the light of day most of his life, he's fairly knowledgeable about everything

But unlike his brother, he doesn't really get driven up the wall by this time of the month

He just wants you to be happy, so if being flirted with and touched every two seconds is what you want, he'll happily go along with it

Even though his face feels like it's going to burn off again every time

He won't initiate anything, but he also won't say no to anything you do

Just guide his hands and tell him what you need, and he'll be helping you out instantly

He doesn't even expect anything in return

But when you smile at him just like that, his brain might short circuit

He'll be your slave if you ask nicely

Bo Sinclair

Bo is, well, Bo

He sometimes acts like he can't tell or that he's too "deep" into his work at the moment to be bothered

But he knows

And he loves the feeling of being needed and desired

You'll come up to him, hugging him for a bit too long, your hands lingering on his chest and torso

He likes to play coy

He wants to see you break first

He'll happily make it worse for you too

Hands on your waist, a gentle caress of your neck, that piercing gaze of his

He can see your face flush and body practically tremble at his actions

But he won't do anything about it

It won't be until the end of the day when he finally comes back home to find you already waiting at the door

You about have to throw yourself onto him before that smile finally breaks out onto his face

"So impatient, aren't we darlin'? Gonna show me just how badly you need me?"

3K notes · View notes

reidrum · 3 months ago

Text

purple lace bra

A/N: wish y'all could see the explosion that happened when i was listening to purple lace bra for the thousandth time and then saw that tattoo pic on twt. anyways. based on this post. p.s. do we like the new fic color layout pls say yes

summary: in which spencer knows better than to let you go home with a loser, which has nothing to do with his recent discovery of your tattoo. obviously.

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, p in v sex, oral (m receiving), enemies to lovers, brat tamer!spencer heheh

wc: 3.5k

The condensation dripping down his glass does nothing to quell the white hot emotion rising within Spencer. The death grip he has on it is about a few minutes away from bursting and shattering everywhere if he doesn’t find a way to calm himself down. That’s not in the cards for him however, not for as long as he keeps watching you across the bar talking to Ryan from cyber crimes.

He’s not supposed to feel this way about you. He’s not supposed to feel any way about you. The majority of your time together as coworkers is spent at each other’s necks with no room for logic, only malice.

But he sits at a table in O’Keefes, awkwardly hanging off the edge of the seat listening to Derek and Emily talk about god knows what.

You look very interested in your conversation from what Spencer can tell, your body language certainly shows it. You’re leaning in just a bit too close for comfort into Ryan, laughing loudly—and fakely—at Ryan’s dumb jokes. You don’t move away when Ryan lays a hand on your waist, tilting your head up so it’s a few inches from his.

“Reid,” Derek nudges him, “You’re going to break the glass, man.”

Spencer looks down at his white knuckled grip and instantly loosens up, intently watching the blood return to his hand. Derek’s smug smile doesn’t falter, “Got something on your mind, pretty boy?”

Emily follows his gaze across the bar to where you stand with Ryan and chuckles, “Or someone?”

He immediately looks back at the table, “No. Nothing.”

“Very convincing, but it might be less effort to just you know. Get up and go talk to her.” Emily teases.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” she winks at him, “but in case a small part of you does know what I’m talking about, I’d say you have about five minutes before she goes home with him.”

He attempts to shrug nonchalantly. “I don’t care.”

Derek and Emily share a knowing look and return to their previous conversation, deciding to let the boy genius stew in his stubbornness. Spencer slowly brings his gaze back to you, except he doesn’t find you uncomfortablely close to Ryan anymore. No, where he finds you is arguably much worse for him.

You’d decided your drink needed a refresher he assumes—why Ryan couldn’t be bothered to get you another drink he’ll never understand—but Spencer lets his eyes trail the expanse of the bar top to find you waiting to flag the bartender down. You’re leaned against the counter, bent slightly at the waist and hips jutting outwards. A compromising but seemingly normal position, however Spencer’s eyes catch something from the raise of your top exposing your lower back. His throat all but nearly dries once he registers what it is.

Raised ink on the swell of your lower back, a tattoo.

Lucky you.

It takes all the restraint in him to not get up abruptly and walk over to you, that is not what he wants. That is not how he’s thinking about you—he doesn’t think about you like that. He’ll settle in his own lie and deny that for all his days, but his resolve grows smaller each second he finds Ryan eyeing the same discovery he’s made.

Ryan isn’t even your type, not that he knows or even cares what your type is, he knows it at least isn’t that man. You like to be challenged, to be tested. Spencer doesn’t even need to be within earshot to know that Ryan is playing the perfect ‘yes man’ listener to you in hopes you’ll go home with him.

Spencer is fairly confident you won’t, but your body language hasn’t changed and you lean in much closer to him after your refill.

The breaking point is when he watches Ryan place his hand on your lower back—over Spencer’s treasured discovery—as he begins to guide you towards the exit.

That’s all it took for him.

Spencer doesn’t think when he bolts out of his chair and speeds over to you, barely registering the “Atta boy.” from Derek as he gets farther from their table towards you.

Your eyes widen as Spencer all but crashes into you, “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” he tries to regain his balance, “Fine yeah, um. Sorry, but we just got called in.”

“For a case?—” you question.

“I thought you guys were off. We were just about to head out.” Ryan interjects. Ugh.

“Contrary to popular belief, serial killers actually don’t abide by a schedule Ryan. So if you don’t mind, we’ll just be heading out on our own.”

“But—“

You eye Spencer for a second, trying to figure out the angle he’s playing. Emily and Derek haven’t moved from their seats yet the empty glasses around them grow by the minute. Not to mention you would have gotten a text from Hotch or JJ if there was a case, and your phone hasn’t so much as buzzed in the last hour.

But then you really look at Spencer, and you take note of his clenched fists, the slight heavy breathing. The vein on his neck popping out with pulsations. He’s mad, you conclude. About what, you’re not too sure.

You pull out your phone and fake react to the blank screen, “Oh gosh, thanks for telling me I almost didn’t see this. Maybe next time, Ryan?”

Spencer smirks to himself as Ryan grumbles something incoherently and maybe offensive to the BAU before sulking away while you let out a soft giggle.

“So…I take it there is no case.”

At this point Spencer realizes the consequences of his rash actions, and has no idea how to explain to you why he warded this man off of you like he was an omen of evil.

He clears his throat, “Um, no. No case, sorry you just looked like you needed help.”

You cross your arms, “I find it hard to believe you wanted to help me with something.”

Spencer narrows his eyes, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you never want anything good for me unless there’s something in it for you.”

Caught red handed. “There’s nothing in it for me, I think you’re overreacting.”

“And I think you’re displacing your emotions,” you step closer, your voice dropping an octave, “I could feel you staring at me, you know. When I was at the bar.”

He gulps, “I—I wasn’t…”

You step closer so you’re nearly chest to chest, “So I’m going to ask you again. Tell me what it is you want.”

You’re so close to him he can still smell the spritzer on your lips, the maraschino cherry you ate with it coloring them an inviting hue that Spencer isn’t sure he can hold off not tasting for any longer.

For the second time tonight, his actions move faster than his brain as you’re suddenly being dragged through the crowd and towards the back of the bar. You think you’re headed for the storage closet but he makes a bee line for the bathroom next to it at the w minute, which is thankfully unlocked.

He tugs you inside and shuts the door behind you before pressing you against the back of it, “I know what you’re doing.”

Your confused face morphs into one of knowing, “And what am I doing, Spencer?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Play dumb? I know you don’t think so highly of me,” he presses your hips against the door harder in anger, “If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask.”

“There isn’t anything from you that I could possibly want.”

Oh, he wants you to push his buttons. “Yeah? That’s why you dragged me into the bathroom after lying to Ryan so I wouldn’t go home with him?”

“You wouldn’t have liked it, I know you.”

You grin wickedly, “Oh, you know me? Should I…thank you? For you know, saving me from a treacherous night with Ryan?”

“I don’t care what you do—“

Your hands drag down to the buckle of his belt, the light pressure feeling a million times heavier as Spencer’s breath hitches at the contact.

“You don’t?” you pout, ghosting over the outline of his bulge.

His body stills entirely as you continue to undo the belt loop, agonizingly sliding it out and running your hands down the sides of his hips. Spencer isn’t sure what to do. He doesn’t think about you like this, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wonder what it would be like to have you writhing beneath him, hearing you scream his name in ecstasy. The different ways he would fuck the attitude out of you whenever you defied him, how he would shut your little mouth up whenever it ran just a little too much.

Spencer’s eyes darken as realizes the opportunity in front of him, soon to be below him. He gulps, “Y—You know what I want.”

You coo, tracing your lips up hips neck to the crest of his ear, “Oh but Spencer, I thought I was dumb. You might have to spell it out for little ole me.”

Christ help him. “On your knees.”

You giggle and sink to your knees, running your hands up his sides to his belt buckle and pants button to undo them. You peel the fabric of his pants back to expose his boxers, nearly salivating at the wet patch forming in the middle. You slip a hand inside and gently palm him through the fabric, he inhales sharply and grasps the sink counter in front of him for balance.

You finally put him out of his misery and take him out of his boxers, your pout returning again seeing how angry and red his tip is. “Spencer, this looks painful. Maybe if you weren’t so stubborn I could’ve helped you out earlier.”

“If you weren’t always fucking talking nonsense at work, maybe I would’ve.”

“Now,” you tsk, wrapping your fingers around him and gently giving him a single stroke, “that’s no way to talk to someone about to give you head.”

He all but whimpers, “F—Fuck, please can you just…”

“Ask me nicely.” you look up at him doe eyed, lazily stroking him.

You’re going to be the death of him, and it’s starting to look like the most promising way to go out.

“Will you please—shit—please can you just, suck me off?”

You don’t respond but simply lean in close to his base to lick a stripe to the top, swirling your tongue around his tip before you hollow your cheeks out and lower your mouth on him.

“Oh fuck,” he whines, his hand moving to grab your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you take him whole. He can feel himself hit the back of your throat as you gag in response, another guttural moan leaving him.

You continue to bob your head up and down on his length as you feel his hand on your head subconsciously begin to guide your movements on his own.

“Why are you so good at this,” he moans, “It’s because you never shut up, huh? All you do is run your mouth and there’s no one to keep you in check.”

You hum pathetically around him, sending vibrations through his body. He almost misses the hand you’ve snaked between your legs to touch yourself, “Look at you, just couldn’t help yourself? If i’d known this was all it would take to keep you quiet I would’ve had you on your knees for me ages ago.”

He can feel your throat distend in response to his crude words, and like a man depraved he instinctively bucks his hips into your mouth. In any other instance he would feel bad, he should feel bad. But he finds that feeling hard to come by as your eyes water to the tear line and you just look so pretty stuffed in the mouth full of him. Spencer has never heard you be so quiet whilst in the same room as him, and he’s becoming very fond of the new method he just discovered to keep you subdued.

Spencer’s thrusts into your mouth become erratic and sloppy, and you can tell he’s getting close. In no world did you think sucking Spencer Reid off would be this enjoyable, and yet you’re already mourning the moment he pulls out of your mouth. You pull back slightly to be able to speak, “Want you to cum in my mouth, please.”

That’s all Spencer needed to thrust a final time into your mouth and spill himself all down your throat. He’s in awe as he watches you take it whole, making sure you don’t miss a single drop and milk out every last bit from him. You pull him out with a grand sigh, your head leaning back about to hit the bottom edge of the sink counter before Spencer releases the makeshift ponytail he has on you to use his hand to pad the impact.

“You okay?” he pants.

You nod, “Yeah, you?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Come here.”

He helps you up from the floor and doesn’t give you time to adjust before he pounces on you, attacking your lips as he holds your body as impossibly close to him as he can. “Didn’t take you for someone who swallows.” he mutters in between kisses.

“Clearly there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Spencer chuckles, his hands beginning to wander again, “I’ll say.”

His fingers brush over the letters on your lower back, you let out a sharp gasp and pull back as he continues to press kisses down your neck, “How did you know—“

“I can’t believe I didn’t know you had a tattoo here. All this time I’m forced to spend with you, you think I’d notice at some point.” he mumbles.

“Well I don’t exactly show it off.”

“Shame, I think I’d be willing to hear you out a lot more if you did.”

“That so?” you tease, “Is that why you were staring daggers at me at the bar?”

“No, I was wondering why you would get a tattoo there of all places,” he whispers, “then I realized.”

“Why?”

“You want to be bent over and fucked like a whore, don’t you?”

You’re near speechless, “I—I…that’s not—“

He turns your body around with a force and bends you over the sink counter, a smirk forming as it reminds him of how you were positioned at the bar. His hands shrug down your jeans and panties, “Don’t ask for things you can’t handle, princess.”

You look at him through the mirror, “I can handle it.”

Spencer puts his hips out to meet the back of yours, his length imprinting between your ass, “I’m sure you can, baby.” He pushes the edge of your top further up to expose the ink on your lower back, thumbing the letters once again as they glare back at him tauntingly.

Lucky you.

He chuckles to himself before angling at your entrance, “Lucky me.”

The feel of him filling you up causes you both to moan in tandem, you hadn’t expected Spencer to be reaching places you didn’t even know existed.

Your forearms brace you against the sink counter as you try to hold yourself up, with every inch he enters you rendering you more and more defenseless.

Spencer lets out a shaky whimper once he bottoms out, “Fu—uck, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry, it’s um. It’s been a minute.” you breathe out.

“That’s okay, baby. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You squeeze around him subconsciously at his tenderness as he lets out a strangled groan. “I—I’m okay, you can move.”

He meets your eyes in the mirror, “You sure?”

“Please move. Now.” you plead.

Spencer drags his hips back slowly before reentering you at the same pace, soft moans spilling out of you the entire way. Once he feels the resistance inside you fall he picks up his pace and starts thrusting into you like a man determined.

Your hips begin to meet his thrusts back on his hips as he continues to hit deep within you, “Spence…” you babble, “feels so good.”

“Yeah? You think Ryan could make you feel like this?”

You moan languishly, unable to form words as his pace picks up even faster.

He jams his hips into you and stops, “I asked you a question.”

“Fuck, please don’t stop.” you whine.

“Then tell me, could Ryan make you feel like this?” he slowly begins to move his hips again.

“N—No, no he can’t.”

His thrusts become harder and faster, “Who’s making you feel like this, baby?”

“You! You Spencer please, I’m going to cum I—“

He ruts into you even faster, his hand threading around to touch your clit, “Say it again.”

“Only you can make me feel this good, Spence, no one else.” you murmur, “Please.”

Spencer would say that was satisfactory. “Cum.”

Your orgasm hits you like a wave crashing down, hard and moving everywhere into every crevice it can find. Your nerve endings are on fire as he continues to fuck you through your high, endless moans and babbles pouring out of you.

Spencer reaches his high not long after, the incessant clenching around him being his breaking point. He groans loudly as he spills himself into you for the second time this night, making sure he’s fucked every last drop inside of you. His pace finally falters and slows down, gently pulling himself out of you. He grabs tissues from the dispenser nearby and delicately cleans you up.

“Shit, that was—” you say as you try to catch your breath.

“Yeah. That was.” he helps you up from the sink counter, kneeling down to help you put your pants and panties back on securely. He stands up to his full height and holds your face square in his hands, holding you to press a firm kiss against your lips that quickly turns into kisses all over your face.

You giggle, “What, you’re all nice to me now because I let you hit?”

He groans again, “Don’t say it like that, it makes me sound like an ass.”

“You kind of were. An ass, that is.” you joke.

“For a reason that you probably are aware of now.” he jests back.

You pretend to look deep in thought, “I don’t know, I think I might need more convincing.”

“That can be arranged,” he leans in to kiss you soundly again when the sound of both your phones ringing startles you. He pulls his phone out, “Oh my god, we actually have a case.”

“You jinxed it!” you laugh, “Guess we really have to go now.”

Now Spencer looks deep in thought as he turns his phone on do not disturb before taking your phone and doing the same thing, sliding them to the end of the sink counter, “Well, I don’t think they’ll miss us for another ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? Ambitious.”

“What can I say, I love a challenge.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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tbaluver · 10 months ago

Note

Hey (●’◡’●)ﾉ I really love your works and want to request a short/long story about lads guys reaction when they found out mc/reader has a high s*x drive and she's embarrassed about it ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

It's okay if u don't want to ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

I'll understand

P. S: I love youuuu ❤❤❤

If You Had A High Libido- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content, oral reader receiving, head canons/ reactions + small smut scenarios a/n: hihi anonnie! i'm so happy to hear you love my works and i hope this was okay lmk ! if not this doesn't exist okay ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) sorry it's taking me a while to write and post stuff i'm currently studying and it's taking up most of my time (っ- ‸ - ς) anyways i hope you enjoy reading ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ p.s i love you too cutie ! your emoticons are soso cute i love them !! (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

poor baby was so confused on why you wanted to go for so many rounds. he thought he wasn't doing enough for you until he asked and that's when you embarrassingly told him about your high libido

"But....do you feel good?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

"So good, that I can't get enough of you" You whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his before pressing a heated kiss on his lips.

Xavier is always there to please you whenever you need or wanted him too. He can handle pretty much anything. If he was tired after many rounds, he'll lie down on his back and let you ride him til you meet your sweet release again. He'll give you plenty of options. You can ride his face, his thigh, whatever you want until you were satisfied.

When he says he'll be there for you, he means it. When you were whimpering softly, desperately ignoring the heat growing down there as you try to go back to sleep. You didn't want to wake up your sleeping boyfriend but it seems he was already awake. You felt his arms snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"Would you like me to help you?" He knew you would be lying if you said no, even if he slides his hand in between your legs to find you practically soaking already. You bit your lip, feeling his hard erection against your ass.

Zayne:

He didn't understand why you were so embarrassed about telling him. He knows and can read you so well. You can't hide anything from this man. He noticed the way you bit your lip when he licked off the excess ice cream on his fingers or when your thighs clenched when you watched him get dressed.

He would reassure you that having a high libido is natural to have and there is no "normal" sex drive.

"I can assure there is nothing to be embarrassed about having a high libido." He says, his voice remaining monotone as he adjusts his glasses. "Just tell me how I can help you."

He would not be irritated or bothered at all if you needed him. Although if he was busy with work then he'll make a couple arrangements to make sure he finishes his reports while you get your fill. He'll keep you seated on his lap and let you ride off his thigh or he'll keep a toy or his finger or two in you as he continues to finish his patient report with his other free hands.

He'll know what you want whenever you press your ass against him whenever you both cook or whenever you sit on his lap.

He slips a finger under your panties, pulling them down with ease. His cock was hard and he could feel your cunt soaking quickly. He settles you on top of the counter, slowly pushing his length inside of you. His pace starts off slow as your body hums in response.

“That’s it...just like that's my good girl”

The pot that was already cooking was probably close to burning as you two were distracted meeting your sweet release.

Rafayel:

Oh, He loves it way more than he should and he uses this to his advantage to feed off his little praise kink. He just loves to hear his cutie need him so so bad. Hearing you beg and whine for him is like a siren's song to his ears, attracting him closer to you.

"What's wrong cutie?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as he tucks the stray hair behind your ear. You bury your head in his chest, too flustered to admit you wanted more, even after all the rounds you've done together.

"Want m-more" You murmur, your voice muffled against his chest. He chuckles softly, clearly amused, and continues to tease you while gently stroking your hair. "What's that? You need my dick again? Do you want me to fill you up princess?"

You respond by rolling your hips, grinding against him, hoping he would get the idea.

He'll fill you up everyday or whenever you need him too. He loves watching you beg and drip a mix of yours and his juices down your thighs every time as if you were in heat.

"Want me that much? Gonna fill you up so much." Feeling his cum ooze down your legs, his dick going impossibly deeper inside of you. Snapping his hips as whines escape your lips.

Sylus:

“Satisfied baby?”

Your core ached for more and you silently debated on telling him. You knew if you told him you were satisfied, your vibrator or your hands can’t even compare what he does to please you. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, not realizing Sylus notices this.

He leaned down, tracing kisses down your jawline, to your neck to grab your attention again. “Use your words baby.” He whispers hotly, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

"M-more Sy.."

It does not take him that long to get used to your high libido. If anything he can match your energy or do more. He'll keep going even if his stamina runs out, if it ever runs out.

Sometimes he's uses this to tease you. While he's away for a couple days, he'll send you pictures of his body. His shirt slightly lifted up to give you a tease of his abs and his v-line peeking above his waistband.

If he was feeling mean, he'll send you a mirror pic of his chiseled abdominal, and his carved v-line leading down to the girthiest dick you're familiar with or he'll send you a video of him stroking his dick to get you riled up. "Need my pretty girl to wrap her lips around it"

You're like a drug to him and he's addicted to you. He wants to spend as much time he has with you and he does not find you to be a bother if you were feeling needy when he was in his office.

He buries his head in your folds and you can feel his tongue in and out of you. You push your hips back to meet more of him as he reaches down with one hand to stroke himself. He groans into you, the vibrations bringing you closer to the edge. You reach down to play with your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

He needed to be inside you as much as you want him to be.

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rafesbabyg1rl · 7 months ago

Text

Private Session

Part one, Part Two , Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe does coke), Rafe's an ass, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, language, slight degradation, slight praise, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. UGH I need him so bad. But anyways, this fic is NOT fully proofread for errors, and I was a little fried while writing this and it's literally almost 3 am right now, but I wanted to get this posted. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

You don’t hate your job, but it’s definitely not the most respected profession out there. You can’t really hate the one thing that makes you money, pretty damn good money too. What can you say, you’re good at your job. You do however hate the assholes who come in nearly every night just to get on your nerves, well more like asshole.

Rafe Cameron loves to come in and watch you. He’ll stare for hours, just admiring you. Sometimes he’s with a few other guys from figure eight, but usually comes in alone. Honestly it’s when he comes in alone that he’s really bad. Since he can direct all his focus on you shamelessly. Rafe’s especially awnry when Barry, your boss, comes to hang out with him. Your boss is normally quite fair when it comes to his dancers; always making sure they’re not being mistreated by customers. But Rafe? Rafe has a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants to whoever. And unluckily for you, you seem to be the only one of Barry’s girls that he’s interested in. He never does so much as look at any of the other dancers when you’re around, he only cares about you. You thought it was flattering at first, but now it’s just weird.

When you see him come in tonight you sigh, still keeping up your performance on stage. God, it’s definitely going to be a long night. You’ve already had enough crap for the day, now for Rafe Cameron to waltz into the club when you’re only halfway through your shift, this is just great. God must really have it out for you.

Rafe hadn’t known you were working tonight, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you on your stage as he walks to the back room to find Barry. Once he disappears into the back room with Barry, you forget about him and continue on with your routine per usual.

A while later, you see Rafe finally emerging from the back room, making his way back through the crowd of horny, drunk men and topless women. You see him shove a small bag into his pocket as he walks into view. His demeanor is different now; even cockier than before, if that’s possible. And his eyes are bloodshot, pupils extremely dilated.

Just keep walking. You think to yourself as you collect bills from your stage floor. Just keep walking.

But of course, Rafe stops near the front end of your stage, taking a seat. He gets comfortable, slouching back in his chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at you.

You try not to let your annoyance show as you continue dancing. Rafe watches you silently; occasionally tossing $1’s and $5’s onto the stage; only sticking to the small bills for now. Not because he’s cheap, but because he likes to take his time; build it up over time. He only throws a few at a time, so he can watch you bend over and pick up the cash however many times he wants.

You lean down to pick up the newest bills he just tossed down for you. You look at him, flashing him a flirty smile as you do with all paying customers. He shoves his wallet back into his jeans and looks up, making eye contact with you. He flashes a smirk that’s almost…charming? But, you know better than to fall for that. No matter how pretty he is, you know better.

A bit later, you take a short break from the pole to make your rounds around the club and see if you have any customers interested in your services. You hate it when it’s busy. Well, stripper you loves it when it’s busy because it means more money. But you, you hate the loud crowds of drunken perverts and frat boys; you felt so exposed. Which, you should because you’re hardly wearing anything. But, you just feel too vulnerable. You liked the calmer nights when the crowd was smaller; you feel more in control that way. And fuck is it packed tonight. You can barely move through the people, and you can hardly hear anything besides the loud music and obnoxious cat calls. This is why you don’t usually work on saturday nights; you’re just doing one of the other girls a favor and covering her shift.

Accidentally, you bump your shoulder into somebody while on your way back to the stage. You don’t think anything of it and just keep walking until you feel a hand on your wrist. Immediately you turn back, pulling your wrist away. You’re not surprised to find that it was Rafe you had bumped into you.

“Hey, y’think I can get a private show?” He asks, his emotions unclear as he steps closer so he can hear you.

“Sorry sir, no rooms are available.” You say with a sensual laugh and a bright smile, no matter how badly you want to just roll your eyes and walk away. But you can’t. You must remain professional. Rafe bites his lip, taking yet another step closer. He leans in to whisper into your ear.

“That’s not what I mean.” He keeps his mouth next to your ear.” You can hear his breathing as you think of a response.

“Can’t, sorry. I don’t do that, I’m not a fucking hooker.” You bite back, beginning to walk away again.

But Rafe quickly retorts, “doesn’t matter, both mean you’re just a fucking slut. Fuckin’ whore.” He spits. He tries to grab your wrist again and fails, grabbing your hand instead. He lets out a jagged breath, tugging you closer. “Come on. I’ll give you one thousand for two hours.” You’re shocked at his generosity, but like you said, you’re not a hooker. You don’t sell that part of you. Especially not to this asshole.

You don’t get the chance to respond before Barry is walking over to the two of you. “There a problem?” You sigh a breath of relief when Rafe drops your hand. But when you look at Barry, you realize he’s not asking you.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ bitch don’t know how to listen.” Rafe gestures to you.

Barry nods, taking in Rafe’s words. He steps over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leading you a few steps away to talk to you. “What's he want?” Your boss asks, trying to gauge the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s also been doing some lines in the back room.

“He wants to take me home. I told him I’m not a hooker.” You explain, hoping he’ll side with you.

“Well maybe for tonight you are. You know why that is, sweetheart?”

You look down as you speak. “‘Cause we listen to what Mr. Cameron says.” You recite his rule.

“One night, just go with him. I bet he’ll pay big.” Barry pleads, not really giving you much option.

You argue, “Yeah, and you’re just gonna take 50%.”

“How ‘bout this. You listenin’?” You nod, looking up at him as he speaks. “You do this, you get to keep 75%.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Seventy-five percent of all my earnings.” You demand, causing Barry to chuckle.

Barry knows you’re stubborn, and he knows he can’t legally force you to go with Rafe. So hesitantly, he gives in and accepts your deal. “Fine, fine ‘aight, seventy-five percent of everything you make.”

You reach out to shake his hand. He holds onto it for a moment longer than is necessary, looking into your eyes, smiling a grimy smile; his gold tooth shining as the low club lighting hits it just right. “Now go get to fuckin’”, he laughs, letting go of your hand. You roll your eyes and as you turn your back to him he gives you a slight nudge back towards Rafe’s direction.

Re-approaching Rafe, you compose yourself. “One thousand for one hour.” You negotiate, your expression making it clear that you won’t be taking no for an answer. You know he has the money, and he’s clearly willing to spend it on you.

Rafe takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to contain his amused smile. “That wasn’t the deal.” He takes a step towards you. Your demanding expression doesn’t falter as you continue to stare at him silently. He huffs out a chuckle, nodding his head and licking his bottom lip. “Okay, fine. One thousand for one hour of your time. But, anything that goes over an hour is free. And trust me, you’re gonna be begging for more.”

“Right, sure I will.” You say sarcastically.

Rafe ignores your words. “So do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”

Rafe wastes no time in taking your hand, leading you to the back room. You pass by the private rooms, seeing that one had opened up. You stop walking, making Rafe look back at you with a confused expression, waiting for your reason.

“There’s a room open…” You speak, looking over at the open door.

“I already told you, not here. That’s not what I’m paying for.” Rafe turns, pulling you behind him. He leads you into the back room, waiting for you to get your stuff from your locker. You slip some clothes over your lingerie, not wanting to go outside nearly naked. After grabbing your bag, you follow Rafe out the back door and to his truck.

His demeanor seems to be more neutral now, rather than being plain mean. Nervously on the drive over to figure eight, you spew out words. “I don’t usually do this.” You say, looking over at Rafe. Rafe doesn’t bother looking at you, he just stares straight out at the road in front of him. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. “Really. I never go home with random guys like this. I never even have se–”. You cut yourself off, already having spilt too much. You curse yourself.

When you’re working, you can keep a strong, dominant attitude and be more confident because it’s all just a part of your character. You can be anyone on stage, you don’t have to be yourself. But as soon as you’re outside of the club, you’re just an anxious fucking mess. Which probably has to do with why you hardly have a sex life.

Rafe looks over to you, occasionally glancing back out at the road. His expression almost makes it seem like he’s actually listening to you; like he cares. You shake that thought out of your head and try to remind yourself that he doesn’t care about what you’re saying, he’s just paying you for sex.

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re a stripper and a virgin?” He asks, his eyes narrow with confusion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laugh. “No! I never said I was a virgin.” You explain.

Rafe smiles when he hears you laugh, not being able to keep his eyes off of your beautiful smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh before. A real laugh, not the fake, flirty ones you flash to the guys at the club while working. It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard.

“So, what then?” He genuinely asks. You’re shocked with the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this conversation, you never took him for much of a talker.

“I don’t know…I just don’t get many chances I guess.” You say honestly, unsure why you’re sharing this with him of all people. You hate him.

“Bullshit.” Adds Rafe. “You’re a stripper.”

“Okay yeah, I’m a stripper, but that’s ‘cause I need the money. I don’t go home with the guys from the club, well…usually.” You pause for a moment. “...that’s just my job. Outside of the club I get to be myself…and I don’t know, it’s just different.”

“You’re afraid people won’t like who you really are?” His words take you by surprise, making your words get stuck in your throat.

You eventually manage to choke out a response. “Yeah, I…I guess so.” Rafe just nods. Not wanting to admit it, but he gets what you mean. You both sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his place.

Arriving at Tanneyhill, Rafe parks the truck in his driveway and he quickly hops out, rounding the front of the truck and opening your door, allowing you to step out. He leads you up to the front door, grabbing his keys from his pocket and unlocking it, following you inside before shutting the door behind you two.

You take a few steps down the hall, observing the room around you. Now that you’re seeing his home, you wish you tried to get even more money out of him. “C’mon”, he mumbles from behind you. Rafe grabs your duffel bag from you and walks in front of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He sets the bag on a small couch in his room, turning around to look at you. He looks you up and down, admiring your body. His skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s finally gonna get to do all the things he’s been dying to do to you since the first time he saw you at the club.

Rafe moves to sit on the bed, patting his lap without saying another word. You know what he wants. Slowly you make your way over to him, straddling his lap so that you’re facing him; your knees on the bed on either side of his legs. For a brief moment, you both stare at each other, getting momentarily lost in one another’s eyes.

Carefully he places his hand on your face, cupping your jaw. His movements are slow and calculated as he leans in, enveloping your lips with his own. The kiss is slow and tender, everything you weren’t expecting.

You pull back just enough to look over at the clock on his nightstand, noting the time in your head. You breathlessly mutter to him, “your hour starts now.” You can see him staring at your lips and without warning he leans in, kissing you. This time, he’s not being so gentle.

Things escalate quickly; clearly he doesn’t want to waste any time with you. Rafe stands up, holding you while not breaking the kiss, he turns the two of you around and lays you on your back, crawling over you. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck, eventually finding your ear. Rafe takes your ear between his teeth, gently nipping at it. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sends a chill throughout your body.

He gently whispers, “I’m gonna do what I want, but you just tell me if it’s too much, alright? Let me know if you want me to stop.” He presses a soft kiss to your ear as you nod.

“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.

“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”

You oblige, looking at him as you speak. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.”

Rafe smirks. “Good girl.” He wastes no time before his lips come crashing onto yours again; somehow even more passionately than the last.

A soft moan escapes your lips, only making him get even rougher. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue making sure to explore every bit of your mouth. He hovers over you, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, holding himself up. And with his free hand, he begins to slide off your shirt.

You try to help him get you out of your shirt by maneuvering yourself around as best you can underneath him. Once your shirt is off, very little is left to the imagination in your work top, which is just a very lacy piece of lingerie. His hand then works at the button on your shorts, once he’s got that undone he starts tugging them off of you, tossing it to his floor. Once you’re in your little work ‘outfit’, he takes a moment to admire you up close.

He’s seen you in skimpy little things like this before, he needs to see the rest of you; all of you. He starts to try and get you out of your lingerie, but there’s too many straps and clips, he can’t get you out of it quick enough. He starts to get frustrated, pausing your kiss as he leans back trying to get a good look at what he’s working with. Rafe’s impatience gets to him and he mumbles a quick “fuck this” just before ripping the thin fabric right off of you.

You let out an involuntary gasp, causing him to look at your face which has an annoyed expression. This was one of your new outfits for work and he just ruined it.

He leans in and presses a soft, wet kiss to your slightly parted lips. “Calm down, I’ll pay for it.” You don’t get a change to respond before he’s pulling the damaged fabric off of you, tossing it onto the floor as well. “Fuuckk, baby.” He mutters, running his free hand down your bare skin, tracing the shape of you as he admires your bare body. “Oh my god,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “So fucking beautiful.” His mouth finds your chest, immediately latching onto one of your nipples; he sucks at it until he eventually pulls off to give attention to your other breast. His eyes are trained up on you, watching as your head tilts back in pleasure.

Rafe pulls his mouth off with a pop! He stands up from the bed, walking over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, taking something out and coming back to you. You see a bundle of rope in his hands, your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be into all that. He really had this planned out. Your excitement builds; the wetness between your legs growing. Rafe sees the thoughts going on in your head.

He tries to reassure you, “relax, it’s fine, m’gonna take real good care of you baby.” He instructs you to scoot up towards the headboard of his bed. Quickly and skillfully, he ties your wrists to the bed, making sure it’s not tight enough to cause pain and not loose enough for you to slip out. You’re not sure how you feel about being tied up and against your will, it definitely leaves you very vulnerable; very out of control. However, for some reason you feel like you can almost trust him. Because so far, since leaving the club, he’s been very tentative and reassuring, even gentle at times. Which is not at all what you had expected from Rafe Cameron.

Soon, his mouth is on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. You struggle against your restraints, feeling like you need to grip onto something. Your hips try to run from him, only causing him to grab ahold of your thighs, keeping you in place.

“F-fuuck…” You whine.

Rafe mumbles against your cunt and you can feel the vibrations in your core. As his tongue fucks you ruthlessly, you find it hard to keep quiet, a sea of moans escaping from your lips.

“Feel good, hm? You like that?” You pout at the loss of his mouth on you, causing him to chuckle before resuming his actions. His tongue circles your clit, only stopping to suck on it. The heat is building in your lower stomach, almost getting unbearable.

“Ohhh…shitshitshitshitshit” You almost scream. “Fuck! Oh fuck Rafe. Please, please don’t…don’t stop.” Rafe pulls back, “told you you’d be begging.” Your hips buck up, chasing after his mouth, missing the feeling of his tongue. But ultimately, Rafe obeys, his mouth continuing its ministations on you. He adds a finger to the mix, slowly tracing up and down your entrance as he sucks at your clit. He slides his long digit inside of you without warning, thrusting it in and out, curling it up to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. “Fuck,” You cry. “I…fuck. G-gonna cum, Rafe!” Your wrists tug against the rope; hurting just a bit, making you whimper in pain. Though you’re distracted by the feeling of your orgasm creeping in.

Rafe hears your cry and he can tell it’s different from your other moans. His head snaps up from between your legs, making you miss his warm, wet mouth on you. He continues his earlier actions, adding a second finger in you, trying to stretch you out as much as he can; to prepare you for him. Your legs wrap around his head as the barrier in your stomach finally breaks, letting your excruciatingly good orgasm wash over you.

He slowly works you down from your high, pulling his fingers out from you, making you squeeze around nothing, your body hating the absence of him. His tongue continues to lap up all your juices. Then he begins to kiss his way back up your body. When he meets your lips, he kisses you tenderly again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. While kissing you, his hands work on freeing your wrists. He sees the red marks they had left, feeling proud yet also feeling a bit bad for causing you pain. “You did so good…” He praises.

You tug his shirt up over his head and run your hands down his toned chest, still attempting to catch your breath from earlier. Then you work at his belt, tossing it aside and pulling off his pants, also tossing them aside. Now that he’s left in just his boxers, you sit up. You get Rafe to lay down where you had been. Using the same rope to tie his wrists to the bed; though you’re not too confident in your knot-tying abilities and you’re unsure if it’ll be able to contain him.

“W-what are you doing?” He asks almost nervously. Rafe hadn’t been expecting for you to take charge of him, usually that doesn’t happen to him. He pulls against his restraints a bit, quickly finding out the pain that comes with.

“Shh…relax, it’s fine.” You recite to him. He smirks, recognizing his own words.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He spits, trying to seem upset, although he really just thinks it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

You travel down his body, straddling his legs as you start to slowly pull his boxers off of him. Rafe’s hard cock springs out, shooting up into the air. You gasp at the sight. You can see why he’s always so cocky now, it’s because he’s got the means to back it up.

Your hands find him, gently stroking his cock. Rafe’s head tips back, his eyes shutting in pleasure for a moment. Quickly, he’s watching you again, not wanting to miss the sight of this. Slowly, you put your mouth onto him. Rafe tries to remain in control by bucking his hips up off the bed, shoving his cock deep down your throat, making you gag in response. You pull off of him for a moment and he chuckles. Knowing he has a limited time with you, you don’t wait too long before sinking your mouth back down on him. As your confidence builds, so does your pace.

“Shiiitt baby, feels so fucking good.” He groans. Already, you can feel his dick twitching in your mouth, causing him to whine. Big, tough Rafe Cameron whining underneath you, completely at your mercy. He doesn’t seem so threatening now that you’ve seen him like this. “W-wait, wait baby, wait.” He manages, his words just spilling out. He struggles against his restraints some more before continuing. “Not yet; I don’t wanna cum yet.” You understand, pulling your mouth off of him. You move to undo his restraints, his mouth finding your tits as you lean over him to untie the rope.

The second he’s free, you’re already somehow on your back with him on top of you. Rafe leans over you and you press open-mouthed, wet kisses all across his chest as he does so. He grabs something from his nightstand and when he pulls back you can see the small, shiny wrapper in his hand. Smart, a condom. You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was probably a good idea.

You place your hands over his, taking the condom from him. As fast as you can, you open it and reach down between you two, rolling it onto his cock until it reaches the base. He leans back down on top of you, kissing your neck and jaw. He whispers, “can I?”

You respond jokingly, “that’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Rafe just stares at you, his expression showing his annoyance and frustration with you. Before he asks you to ‘say it’, you add to your previous statement. “Yes, Rafe. Fuck me.”

Rafe doesn’t need any further permission as he lines himself up with your cunt. He wishes he could feel your wetness on his skin, but he knew wearing a condom was the smart thing. Slowly, he presses in. Only entering you about two inches, letting you adjust to him before adding a few more inches. Slowly; inch by inch, Rafe enters you, eventually bottoming out. Rafe stays still for a couple moments until you give him a small nod. He moves his hips slowly, rocking in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Your hands wrap around him, hooking underneath his biceps. Your palms grip onto his back, your nails only slightly digging into his skin. His pace begins to pick up, getting loud moans and whines to come from you.

“Mmmnn…nnhhgghh f-fuuckk, Rafe!” You cry out, a tear rolling down your cheek.

The sight of your tear only turns him on more, in a dark and twisted way. He uses his thumb to wipe away your warm, salty tear off of your cheek.

Despite his gentle touch, Rafe is now drilling into you without regard for your poor cunt. Shamelessly fucking you with a condom on. He looks at the sticky, white mess leaking from your perfect cunt; creating a slick film that coats his entire cock. He reaches out to grab you by your hair, forcing your neck down so that you’re looking at where you and him connect, “See that? That’s all you baby.”

When you’re greeted with the sight of his entire length buried deep inside of you, your eyes begin to roll back as your next orgasm approaches. Rafe clicks his tongue at you, pulling entirely out of you. After a few moments without him inside of you, you immediately start to pout. A whine escapes your lips, “Rafe…”, your hips buck up, as if trying to draw his attention back to your needy cunt.

A small, cocky grin spreads across his face at the sight. His grip tightens in your hair as he begins to tug, directing your gaze right where he wants it, on him. “You gotta fuckin’ see this, baby.” Rafe says proudly, looking back down at your messy pussy. Quickly, he thrusts back into you with force and you watch as your cunt swallows him whole. “See that? See what you do for me?” Rafe speaks in a tone that sounds as though he’s praising you, but he knows that your body has no other option than to take him. “See how fuckin’ well you take me? This pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock.”

Rafe groans, pre-cum now leaking into the condom as his pace becomes sporadic. Still going through the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm, your cunt continues to squeeze tightly around him.

“Holy f-fuck.” Rafe stutters, his fingers moving to your clit, rubbing it in circles. His movements are getting sloppy, arithmetic as he tries to draw another orgasm from you before he finishes. “God fucking damn.” Rafe’s head tips back, you lean up to kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at it, your moans being muffled by him.

Your third orgasm approaches, your entire body trembling as you shriek. “Rafe! Fuck, fuck, I-fuck!” Your screams become muted when he kisses you, shutting you up. Rafe’s own orgasm starts to creep in, his thrusts getting harder for a moment before he stills inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch, followed by the feeling of his hot cum as it fills the condom. He slowly moves, easing you both back down from your highs. Eventually, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side and laying on his back beside you.

You work on catching your breath as you turn your head to look over at the time; you have about fifteen minutes left with him. You don’t know what he has in store for you now, he’s already succeeded in making you cum three times within forty-five minutes. While he takes a moment to rest, you decide to get on top of him. You pull off his condom, tying the end of it in a knot. Without giving him any kind of warning, you put your mouth back on him, sucking his warm, sticky seed off of his dick. One of his large hands shoots up to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on him. You can feel his semi-hard cock already growing harder again.

“S-shit, babe.” He groans, pulling you up, bringing your face to his and meeting you with another kiss, as if to thank you.

You stand up, your legs shaky. You half walk, half stumble into the adjoining bathroom, tossing the condom in the trash. You make your way back to the bed, laying next to him. You turn your head to look at him. “What else can I do for you? Time’s almost up.” You ask softly.

Rafe huffs, pissed off that you had to remind him that this isn’t real, he’s paying for this, for you. Without a word, he flips over on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. There’s something different about him now. His eyes; they carry a bit of darkness, his movements now rough and aggressive. He squeezes your neck lightly, making you gasp in surprise. “Rafe…”

“Shhh…you’re gonna take what I give you.” He squeezes tighter, making it harder for you to breathe, but not impossible. He leans down, kissing all over your neck and chest, leaving bites and bruises in his wake. You let out a small whine involuntarily; you can feel his touch throughout your whole body, like a jolt of electricity. “Shut up, whore.”

Suddenly, Rafe’s thrusting into you again. But wait, he’s not wearing a condom. In your surprise, this way feels so much better. You can feel the warmth and smoothness of his cock as it easily slides in and out of you, making the most lewd noises. You try to speak, but his hand tightens around your throat one final time, actually making it impossible for you to breathe. He stares into your eyes, watching as your face turns red and your panic sets in. You put your hands on his arm, hitting and tugging on it. Just as your vision starts to go dark, he eases his grip. You gasp for air, taking in as much as you can while he continues his attack on your pussy.

You’re about to see stars again for the fourth time tonight when he suddenly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss of him, frustrated that he denied you of your orgasm. Rafe rolls off of you, making your brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck?” You question.

He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and you follow his gaze. “Time’s up.” He says plainly. You knew what he was doing. This sneaky motherfucker. He purposely got you to your climax right as the hour ended so you’d prove him right and beg for more; beg to let you cum one more time. As much as you wanted to prove him wrong and just leave, you need this, you need to feel him fill you up.

Before he can protest, you straddle his lap, sinking yourself down onto his cock. Immediately he groans, taking hold of your hips. He holds you still, not letting you move yet. “Knew you’d want more.” He says, now guiding you to grind on his dick, this new position lets him hit a new depth inside you. “M’not paying for this now.”

You don’t respond, instead using your energy to bounce up and down his length. Your climax is already near, your entire body shaking and spent from the past three orgasms he gave you. Rafe helps you out, his strong hand gripping onto you as he holds you up, drilling up into your cunt at a god-like pace. How is someone this talented, this fucking perfect, paying for sex? Surely he could get any girl he wants. Although you’re not complaining, four orgasms and a thousand dollars? How could it get any better than that?

You yell out as the band in your stomach snaps, the pressure being relieved as a stream of your liquids squirt out of you, splashing onto his stomach, dripping down to his sheets underneath you both. You’re just as shocked as he is when this happens. You didn’t even know you could do that.

“Fuck,” Rafe growls, continuing to fuck up into your shaking body. Rafe doesn’t warn you before shooting his load into you. But the warmth and fulfillment of his seed feels too fucking good to be mad about. Slowly, you pull yourself off of him. He has to help lift you off of his cock since your body is completely spent. “You’re fucking amazing.” He presses a long, soft kiss to your head.

After helping you clean up a bit, you change into your own clothes. Rafe drives you back to the club, the ride awfully quiet, both of you being too exhausted to talk. When you get there, he pulls his wallet out, grabbing out a large wad of cash and handing it to you. You quickly count it, and then recount it, when your results don’t change, you look up at him with furrowed brows. “That’s for being so fucking good.” Rafe had given you two thousand instead of one. This boosts your confidence a bit, an hour of sex with you is worth two thousand dollars? God, you should’ve fucked Rafe sooner. You get out of his truck and walk towards the club. Rafe speeds off out of the parking lot.

It’s late, but Barry’s still here, though the crowd has definitely shrunken in the last hour. You walk in and find Barry in the back room. He laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance; your hair and makeup are disastrous.

“Looks like someone had a good time, huh? Now where’s my money?” He asks. You pull out the cash, counting 500 and tossing it to him.

“There. That’s seventy-five percent of what I made.” You start to walk out. But his voice calls you back.

“Shit, you made two thousand in one hour just for fuckin’ him? You got some magic fuckin’ pussy or sum?” He laughs. “I might have to start sellin’ you out more, don’t I?”

Too tired to argue, you walk out. You don’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t hate having to do that again with Rafe, whether it’s paid or unpaid.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

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rainb0ws-h4t · 5 months ago

Text

Heartslabyul

continuation of my other post cuz I have motivation now. Kinda changed ur personality a bit, URE a boss now

Continuation of this

Tw: stalking, yandere themes , mentions of blood, hate comments online, slight manipulation(?),

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Before you properly formed a friendship with Yuu, you never interacted with him. Not that you wanted to anyway, he was too strict for you and it was clear you two wouldn't get along with each other.

Of course, you two sometimes caught glimpses of each other in the hallways and library, but neither you or Riddle were interested to chat.

You heard stories of him and his overblot, and you did feel slight sympathy for the man. After all, it wouldn't easy overblotting and dealing with the aftermath. You just hoped he'd recover and everything would go back to the normal and mundane school days like before. This was the farthest your nonexistent relationship with Riddle went.

As you and Yuu became closer though, you heard a few passing whispers on how Riddle became prone to lashing out at others more often. Something about Yuu not attending his tea parties again? Although he did make up for it by properly apologizing, it did cause the students of the Heartslabyul dorm to be cautious of him again.

It was a small break in between classes, and you just kinda wanted a few minutes of being by yourself. Absolutely nothing can compare to the comfort of solitude. You were holding a few books from the library, wanting to catch up more on Trein's history lesson.

You were enjoying the peace and quiet until—

"Don't you ever attempt to act this foolishly in my presence again! Off with your head!" The familiar redhead raised his magic pen and summoned a collar that chained itself around the necks of two students. He crossed his arms, "Maybe this will teach you how to behave as a proper human being, rather than some uncivilized bufoon-" He interrupted himself as he caught sight of your figure down the hall.

Noticing his distracted state, the two students scurried off. Riddle's gaze darkened immensely as he marched towards you. You were not sure if his anger was directed to you or someone else. Your head quickly whipped around if anyone else was the cause for his darkened stare. By the time you looked back at him, he was already right in front of you.

"Do you really assume that the Prefect actually holds the slightest bit of interest towards someone like you?" He spoke, tone dripping with malice.

"Excuse me..?"

"You don't even hold a candle to the Prefect, so don't even bother attempting to do any more damage than you already have done." As expected of the housewarden of Heartslabyul, always so stern and strict...

"Why are you speaking for them? It's clear that if the Prefect didn't want to form a friendship with me then they wouldn't have. You're acting as if I'm forcing them to be friends with me."

"Don't speak back to me." His anger flaring up once again. "I am in a much higher position than you are, and I command you to never speak or even be near to the Prefect ever again!"

Your gaze hardens the more he speaks, "Using your position to force someone to never speak to their friend again because someone can't contain their sensitive feelings? And I thought a Housewarden should know better than to abuse their power."

Riddle's face turned to shock as his voice was hitched in his throat, not finding the ability to speak. You took this as a sign to walk away, the power Riddle held was more than anything you could ever achieve. You were lucky he didn't immediately blow up on you.

Riddle was stunned.

He wasn't used to anyone holding their ground against him. Of course, there were times that it did happen (ace—ahem) but this was different. The fact they didn't seem the slightest bit scared of him intrigued him. Their hardened gaze never faltered, and their words remained sharp and steady.

Huh.

Maybe the Prefect was on to something. He was starting to see the appeal. After his anger had cooled and he started going about his regular schedule , the image of you standing your ground against him just never left his mind.

He stalked observed you from afar and was able to see different parts of you that he wanted to explore. That day when you argued with him was only one side of you that you showed to him. Your playful side, serious side, quiet side, and so many more.

His preferences never left the Prefect, but somehow, your enigmatic personality draws him in.

Riddle describes you as a rose. The deep red petals mesmerizing his mind, reminding him of every single part of you that he has yet to explore. His hand would grip the stem tighter, the thorns prickling at his fair skin. The blood would stain his pristine white clothing, but he wouldn't care. If it meant that he gained more time to take in your hypnotizing beauty, then what was there to lose?

CATER DIAMOND

Cater always rubbed you the wrong way.

His smiles never reached his eyes, the boisterous personality he expresses definitely felt off. Everything he did just seemed like an attempt to cover up something.

You never approached him before you and Yuu became close, you doubt you would be able to keep up with his upbeat energy without exhausting yourself. You did, however, stalk his account sometimes when you just felt like it.

There was this one time that Yuu mentioned Cater asking for your Magicam username. You didn't think into it too much because it could've just been him being curious or just for the randomness.

That was until your Magicam account started getting bashed on for absolutely no reason did you start connecting the dots. You had only a few posts that were all from last year and the comments and replies were just hating on you intensely

You couldn't think of anyone else responsible other than Cater. The intervals between his posts were usually 1-2 days long but there was these two posts that had a week long interval. It could've just been a coincidence, but that week was the same week you've been getting all these hate comments.

To confirm your suspicions, you created a burn account and checked Cater's profile again. Safe to say, there were multiple posts containing fake information and unreal images of texts between your account and his. He must've just blocked you from seeing those posts, that must've been the reason why you weren't able to view those on your main account.

The notifications from the haters (as much as you hate to admit) got to you, even if you didnt do anything. The comments stung. You hadn't done any wrong so why did it hurt? This caused you to be more detached from social media, your view of it dimming by each hate comment.

You ultimately made the decision to delete your account, afraid that if you waited any longer and your personal information would get leaked. That and you planned to confront Cater. You normally wouldn't resort to confrontation, but you refused to take the disrespect. Plus, you'd doubt he'd stop without someone stepping up to him.

It was around lunch when you, grim and the prefect sat together. They had to leave for a few minutes for the bathroom. You silently scanned the cafeteria, checking for a familiar ginger male. You noticed him walking right past where you were sitting. Funny how he thought he had the audacity to ignore you when he started an online bash against you for existing.

"Do you think I wouldn't be able to find out?" You asked, back facing Cater as he froze in his steps.

He immediately turned around, that same fake grin plastered on his face like tape. "Oh, heya!" He waved his hand. "Uh.. Were you talking to me?" He questioned, a slight quiver in his eyebrow.

"You're the one who started that online hate train for me, right?" You turned your head to face him.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Don't act stupid with me. You're much more conniving than you present yourself to be." You stood up, facing him fully.

Cater hesitated to speak, "Sorries! But I'm not sure what you're talking about! But hey, send me a dm if you wanna talk more. Gotta go, peace!" He made a peace sign with his hands, before making an attempt to flee the scene.

Although before he could exit, a loud slap ran loud through the cafeteria. Everyone's eyes immediately locked on the source of the sound.

Cater's eyes widened as his cheek suddenly stung with burning pain. He brought a hand to slowly cup his reddened cheek as his eyes locked on to your serious ones.

"Didn't you hear me? I said don't play stupid with me." He continued to stare. "I wasn't planning to make this dispute a big deal if you had just admitted to me you did it." You took a step closer to him.

"W-wha.."

You raised your hand, readying to slap him again harder.

"(Name)? Hey, what happened?" The prefect spoke, sensing the tense atmosphere. Your raised arm slowly lowered.

"Myah, why's everyone staring at us?" Grim asked as he casted a curious glance at everyone in the room.

With one last look you shot him, you exited the cafeteria immediately with Yuu running after you. Cater still stood there, quiet. His hand still cupping his stinging cheek. His ears ringing as it blocked out the whispers that spread through the space.

___

Cater sat on his bed, phone in hand as he tried to figure out what to post. A few students had already posted about what happened earlier during lunch. Sevens, this was bad... Each letter he type was deleted a few seconds later, and each idea he had was scrapped.

His focus wasn't completely on his screen though. It kept flickering towards... you. You humiliated him in front of many, and almost outed him for what he did online and yet...

He wasn't mad.. no, he was intrigued. At first, he was mad that the prefect slowly gained the confidence to refute his dates and selfie ideas when they started hanging out with you. He thought your influence was the reason his relationship with Yuu slowly fell apart, his insecurities flaring up and blaming you.

One of the main reasons he sent a hate train to bash account.

But ever since he saw you up close, how he wished Yuu could embody every single trait of yours that you held. So maybe then could they be more like you— identical even. But even then that wouldn't be enough. He always thought you were this reserved and quiet kid who would never stand up to anyone unless the situation really called for it.

That entire dispute at the cafeteria changed his whole perspective on you entirely.

Cater started taking selfies with you in the background, some people even thought you and Cater made up. The hate towards you slowly dissapeared, thanks to Cater.

It wasn't long before Cater eventually swayed the internet into thinking that you and him were dating off screen. The rumors started coming in rapidly, after all, Internet celeb Cater Diamond had a partner!

Though, everything was denied by you personally. With you posting a statement that what the internet made you two to be was just a giant misunderstanding, and that you and him were nothing more than just acquaintences. Unfortunately, Cater's voice in the social platform held more power than yours ever will.

As you turned off your phone to focus on walking back to your dorm, a camera shutter suddenly sounds.

TREY CLOVER

Trey was... ordinary you guess. Sure, he was a great vice-housewarden and an amazing baker but nothing about him struck you. Unlike the others, Trey was laid-back and relaxed and never involved himself unless the situation called for it.

So you were confused when Yuu confessed that Trey intimidated them the most in Heartslabyul. You didn't understand though, he seemed nice and you never sensed any strange or even creepy behaviour from him to Yuu.

Yuu was invited to another Unbirthday party by those two freshmen who hung around them constantly. Unfortunately, the prefect wasn't able to refute their persistance.

"I'll go with you." You offered.

"Huh..?" Yuu looked up at you.

"I said I'll go with you. You're uncomfortable going by yourself, right?"

They stared into your eyes for a few seconds, "You'd do that for me?" They muttered.

"Sure, we're friends after all."

With that, you forced (even if you offered) yourself to go to the party with Yuu. You couldn't just leave them by themselves especially when you know how they felt around those boys.

As you walked, you immediately avoided making your appearance known. You'd rather drip dead right there than maintain a civil conversation with Riddle and Cater. Yuu stuck beside you though, seemingly more attached to you than ever. Of course, it was inevitable that Riddle and Cater noticed you two.

You excused yourself for the bathroom after asking Yuu if they'd be fine. You wandered around Heartslabyul, you probably should've asked for directions.... But oh well. As you continued walking around the dorm, you stumbled on a cute kitchen. No one was inside it currently.

Interested, you explored the space. It seemed recently used; with bowls in the sink, the mixers still plugged in, and the oven warm. It was clearly for the party outside and the one who inhabited the kitchen was probably still outside. That means you were alone...

A creek from the door you entered alerted you,

"(Name)?" A familiar dark green haired male entered the kitchen.

"Trey? How'd you know my name?" You asked, not remembering talking to Trey or even telling him your name.

"And how'd you know mine?" A small smile formed in his face.

"Well, Yuu told me about you." You responded.

"Riddle and Cater told me about you too." You observed a slight wariness in him as he spoke. You wondered what Riddle and Cater made you out to be..

Not knowing how to continue the conversation, "So... you bake?" You asked.

"Yeah, I do. My family ran a bakery where I'm from so it's only natural I'd also learn to bake." He replied.

"Do you... do you want help in cleaning the place? It'd probably go faster if you have someone helping ya." You offered, feeling slightly bad that you were leaving Yuu by themselves even longer.

"Huh? You don't have to trouble yourself really. I made the mess and I should clean it up." Trey started moving towards the dirty dishes in the sink.

You moved in front of him to prevent him from getting any closer to the sink. "And I desperately need an excuse to not go back outside at the moment."

Trey appeared surprised for a moment, "You don't plan on moving anytime soon, are you?"

"Yeah." You responded blankly.

Trey smiled, "I guess it would be better with company."

You and Trey spent the next 20 minutes together cleaning the kitchen. It was peaceful, barely any chatter was involved between you two.

As you headed back to the party, you couldn't help but wonder why Trey intimidated Yuu the most. He was nice and a hard worker. Immediately after noticing your presence, Yuu jumped in your arms and kept blabbering about how they were glad you were safe and unharmed.

You're not sure if that's what started it, but Trey has lately been inviting you over to Heartslabyul for baking sessions. You've started enjoying his company even more, his sweet tarts are just a plus.

___

Trey didn't understand Cater and Riddle.

Riddle made you out to be this insolent and misbehaving buffoon that had no place in a prestigous college like NRC. He also did mutter how you should spend more time at Heartslabyul so that you'd be influenced by their traditions.

Cater complained about you. How you almost outed him and humiliated him in the cafeteria. But then he also whined complained about how you kept ignoring him in hallways and his dms!

So it was no surprise that he developed a slightly dimmed view of you as the two continued talking. But he always avoided making assumptions, so he didn't just regard you as a douche right off the bat.

Color him surprised when you turned out to be so nice. You offered to help him clean and initiated a conversation with ease.

Trey felt a sense of pride that the nice side you showed him wasn't being presented to Riddle or Cater. Feeling slightly special that he was able to be friendly with you unlike the aforementioned two. You were so friendly, how could you ever be the same insolent brat Riddle mentioned?

He started inviting you more often than normal, even expecting you to show up without telling you. He wanted— needed to see that soft side of yours. That addicting smile you sent him every time made all the gears in his head stop working.

C'mon, don't you like baking with him?

___

Yuu has been discouraging you to go though, but you've always brushed their warnings off. You convinced yourself that you could always see through someone's facade, no matter how well they conceal their true intentions. It worked on Cater, right?

But.. you find it harder and harder to refuse his invitations. His saddened expression, his disappointed "oh..", and his guilt tripping remarks.

You really should've listened to Yuu.

ACE & DEUCE (it's easier for me to write them tgt)

Ace and Deuce were annoyed how the prefect suddenly distanced themselves from them. They were even more irked when they realized it was because of another person. How can the prefect just abandon them like that? The two were practically the first friends they made here!

In response, the two ambushed the unwilling prefect at random times and dragged them away to hang out together. That was when they first met you.

You and Yuu we're sharing a small conversation between each other, just the two of you under the comforting shade of a tree. The serene atmosphere disturbed by the two goofs who approached you two unwanted and unannounced.

"Prefect, we've been looking for you!" Deuce exclaimed as he stopped right in front of you.

Ace came running behind him, panting. "You couldn't have waited a few seconds for me you jerk?" He remarked as he caught his breath.

Yuu looked at the two boys Infront of them, nervous and fidgety. "Oh.. Ace and Deuce, what are you guys doing here..?"

"Wellll..... Professor Crewel gave me a really complicated project to make up for that test I missed last week.." Ace explained while scratching his head, ultimately leaving out an important detail where he intentionally missed that test cause he knew Professor Crewel would give him an extra hard project to make up for it.

"He's basically asking you to help him! And plus, you haven't hung out with us all day, so maybe this can make up for it!" Deuce eagerly spoke.

Sevens, these two boys are so hopeless... You remember seeing Ace wandering the courtyard the day of Crewel's test, and only conveniently making an appearance after the test ended. They'd go that far just to have an excuse with the prefect. Have they even courted an actual person before?

"You've spent too much time with your friend already, don't ya think?" Ace stated, not asking, stating.

"You guys can always hang out another time, right?" The two were persistent, you'd give them that.

Yuu fiddle with the ends of their blazer, not sure if what they really wanted to say would appease them. "Well.. I'm not sure if-"

"I know you're free today~" Ace tried to play it off as a joke with a laugh, which in return, came out more menacing.

"Stop it." You intervened.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

The two said in sync.

"The prefect has been feeling sick. I'd rather they avoid coming into contact with chemicals." You lied, hoping they'd buy it. Yuu turned to you in surprise.

"What? But Yuu has been fine the entire day?" Deuce confusedly said.

"You're lying." Ace furrowed his brows.

"I'm not." You replied.

"Okay, prove it." Ace's irritation becoming more palpable by the second.

"Just ask Yuu."

Then all the eyes turned to the prefect, two sides awaiting and wanting completely different answers. They hesitated, but spoke with sureness in their voice. "Yeah.. I've been feeling a bit down casted today. I just didn't want to make it obvious.."

You turned to face Ace again, "See?" The seemed to have hit Ace he wrong way when his fists visibly clenched.

"Then you have to go back to ramshackle and rest immediately! We'll escort you.." Deuce offered, a slight red tinting his cheeks at the last part of his offer.

Ace placed his facade on again, "Yeah! We'll even cook soup for you!"

Yuu's conflict to choose between either you or the two boys was growing by the second. Normally, they'd just go along with what everyone said. That's how they have always been. But that was also before you came into the picture. "I.."

"They're fine with me." You said.

"You can stop speaking for them, y'know." Ace crossed his arms.

"What do you think Yuu?" Deuce asked, still eagerly waiting for Yuu's answer.

But Yuu knew who they'd feel more safe with, "I'm fine with them. You really don't have to trouble yourself with-"

"It's really no problem! I can take care of you the entire time while youre sick!" Deuce invaded their personal space and held their hands in his.

Just as Ace was about to but in, you spoke.

"The two of you either must be blind or just ignorant." You slowly pushed Deuce off of Yuu. "Can't you see that they DON'T wanna go with you two? Seriously, is it really that hard to read the room?"

The two were quiet for a moment.

"Oh yeah? And who are you to be talking for them like you're doin' them a favor?" Ace's expression darkened visibly.

Deuce cracked his knuckles, "For all we know, you're probably the one who's forcing Yuu to stay with them!"

"Right! That must be the reason why they even started hanging out with you!" Ace accused.

"Or have you ever considered the idea that they actually like me?" You asked.

"Oh please, the prefect could never like someone like you!" Ace yelled.

"You're not showing us anything to like about you right now, so I doubt the prefect could hold a positive opinion for you!" Deuce continued.

"Why should I present someone any likeable qualities when I want them to hate me?" You said.

Just as Ace and Deuce were about to retort, another voice barged in.

"Bad and tardy pups. I expect the two of you in my classroom this instant." Professor Crewel stood behind the boys, who instantly turned from mad to shivering.

You sighed in relief as the two boys finally left, glad their suffocating and persisting presence finally exited. You turned to Yuu who seemed to be staring at you with... Admiration?

They quickly shook their head, snapping them out of their trance. "Thanks a lot.. Im not sure what I would've done without you."

"Don't mention it." You smiled at them.

___

Ace dreaded seeing you whenever you were with Yuu. You always gathered all their attention effortlessly, he used to be able to do that... That's why he hated you. Some part of his mind told him that the prefect got bored of him, so that's why he'll try to get them back!

He'd purposely catch you at times whenever you were with Yuu, so that he'd attempt to impress them by humiliating you. Except... He'd always leave as the defeated. He even tried punching you, but he missed when you dodged instantly.

This one-sided rivalry started an addiction.

He had this rush of adrenaline whenever he argued with you, and he chased after that sensation by the second. Ace wasn't even sure if this was even for Yuu anymore. He was lost in whatever spell you casted onto him that fateful day under the tree.

You made him taste something that ignited a spark within his soul, and he'll forever chase after it.

Deuce wasn't the same case... Well, kind've bit not exactly. He wanted the prefect's attention, how did he achieve that however? He stalked observed you. You were the sole reason the prefect started this sudden change of theirs. How you captivated the prefect in such a short amount of time confused him...

In other words, he was jealous. Jealous of how easily you handled him that day. Jealous of how you could fight back without losing your temper. Jealous of how easily you enamoured Yuu. That's why he'll simply observe you from afar and copy your techniques!

But then.. he started wondering how he could impress you as well... He invited the prefect over to his club to originally impress them with how fast he could run. But when he saw you sitting together with the prefect, he started running and running— Heck, the winds were probably struggling to catch up with him— until he reached the end. He beat his old record, but he didn't focus on that.

When he saw that bewildered look in your face, something in him obsessively started planning even more crazier stunts to have you captivated and jaw-hanging as you stared at him.

That's right... keep your attention on him and him only.

___

Finally done <333

Can't say I'm proud I'm just glad I'm finished with this tbh

It might be ooc sorry yalllzzzz 💔

i might write some alternatives to this cuz I some good ideas!!!

People who wanted to be tagged: @fancyhawk45 @brights-place @avalordream @kthehoeforfictionalmen

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witherby · 5 months ago

Note

Wait I kinda wanna see mousy’s blow up 🤭

You can absolutely see the blow up 😏

The Littlest Wayne: Boiling Point

The post that inspired this response is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

You can't remember what started the argument. An errant comment, some joke in poor taste, an accusatory question — it could have been anything. All you know is that you said something you felt was important, Damian ignored it, Tim dismissed it, and Dick acted like you hadn't said it to begin with, and now you're livid and don't want to finish your dinner.

"May I be excused," you say to Alfred, already pushing your chair back from the table before he can respond. Your grandfather gives you a concerned look, but nods.

"Shall I bring something up to you later, young master?" He asks. You don't know if you'll have any appetite by then, but you agree anyway to spare his feelings.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asks, frowning as you stand to leave. "I haven't seen you in a week, honey. Even if you're not hungry, can you sit a while?"

"Whose fault is that," you snap. The room gets real quiet after that, a mixture of surprise and incredulity painting your father's face.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not making you go anywhere, dad," you scowl, "if you missed me then you'd find the time to see me."

"Hold on. I don't think that's very fair," Hal speaks up, reaching for your hand. You pull it away from him. "Mouse —"

"It's fine," you say, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. I'm well aware. It's fine. We'll spend time together some other day. Go stop a robbery or rescue some damsels or something."

"What's with the 'tude, Flitty?" Dick pipes up, standing to block the door. "Pump the brakes for a sec. Talk to us."

"Talk to you? What, so when you inevitably forget this conversation happened you can pretend we never had it to begin with?" You sneer at your brother, looking him up and down. "No thanks. I'm not interested in being gaslit today."

"Gaslit?" Dick balks, looking like you struck him. "I've never —"

"Let them go, Dick," Tim says, twirling a bite of pasta around his fork. "It's just hormones. They'll go back to normal by tomorrow."

"Oh, of course it's just hormones," you scoff, whirling around to point a finger at Tim. "If it's got a logical explanation it's not worth dwelling on. Isn't that right? I can't be upset because I'm just going through puberty! There's no way it's acceptable for me to be upset over anything! My feelings don't matter, so they should be swept under the rug, just like your parents did to you!"

Tim drops his fork in surprise. A bit of pasta sauce hits Damian's check, and he grabs his napkin with an irritated grumble.

"This is such nonsense," the boy mutters.

"Everything that doesn't interest you personally is nonsense," you hiss at your youngest brother. "God forbid someone try to share their love for a hobby that's outside of what you find enjoyable. If the Blood Son doesn't give it his seal of approval, it's not worth the effort! Honestly, I should feel grateful you've blessed us with your presence at all! Surely your inferior siblings are barely worth your invaluable time!"

Your heart's racing. All the little, irritating things about your family that's been piling up inside you are spilling out. Your anger turns the internal hurt into external jabs and low blows, the darkest part of you wanting them to feel just a fraction of your pain at how flippantly they treat you sometimes.

"Sorry, did that upset you, Dami? Aww, it's okay! Like Tim says, it's just an emotional response brought on by some underlying factor! It won't last so it's not worth devoting your time to! And if you're like Dicky, you can just wave it away and say it never happened, no matter what you show him to prove it did! Maybe if you hadn't had the time to make it to dinner and spent weeks or months rushing off to do something more important at the start, you wouldn't have to sit through this conversation at all! Hope that helps!"

A hand comes down on your shoulder, silencing your rant. You whip around to find Jason staring down at you with a heartbroken frown. He looks so genuinely upset that any remaining anger dissipates immediately.

"Mousey," he whispers, "stop. Take a breath."

He looks so blurry. You blink a couple times and realize your panting and crying. No one will look you directly in the eyes except for Alfred, who's visibly tired. There's pity in his eyes.

It stings. God. Everything stings. Your face flushes with color as you realize what you've said and done. You want the earth to open up and swallow you.

It doesn't have to be the earth.

Before anyone can protest, your shadow wraps around your ankles and drags you down, then dissipates.

"Mouse, don't —" Jason kneels on the floor, just a hair too slow. "Fuck."

#littlest wayne au #batfam x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #hal jordan #platonic x reader #gn reader

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gracieheartspedro · 10 months ago

Text

Dagger In The Heart

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

word count: 6.1k words

warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.

description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.

author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;

“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.

You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen.

At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him.

It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could.

He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.

You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys.

You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable.

He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance.

His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you.

“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands.

You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”

“Come meet the crew!”

Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom.

The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend.

His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept.

His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you.

When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room.

She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty.

You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”

You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen.

“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”

You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”

“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”

Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister.

Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”

Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated.

But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink.

He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit.

You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often.

“So, you and Matt met in science class?”

You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”

“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”

“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”

You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one.

No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?

She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”

You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot.

You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.

“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”

She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms.

Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”

“Why not?”

She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you.

“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”

Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!

“Your… boobs are tattooed?”

She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”

The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight.

Sure.

But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?

“What if your family wasn’t around?”

Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg.

“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months.

You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”

She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”

Now you are just lying.

Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away.

You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table.

Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship.

You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang.

“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him.

“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”

You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”

“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”

Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”.

God, he made you feel terrible about yourself.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.

Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you.

“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”

Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”

He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief.

When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs.

“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase.

You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie.

You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.

“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”

The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you.

She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry.

“Let’s see what you fit into!”

She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry.

She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you.

“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“

“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”

“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”

You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much.

She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply.

“Loose.”

She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in.

“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”

You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”

“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you.

“Goodnight, girls!”

And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it.

“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”

You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”

You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track.

The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago.

You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly.

“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas.

You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly.

“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”

You swallow, “Jealous?”

“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”

You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?

“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”

“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”

She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances.

“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”

Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head.

“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”

You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.

Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just.

The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.

“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it.

She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”

You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you.

“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”

“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Is he mean to you all the time?”

You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway.

“Most of the time.”

“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”

You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?

So you shrug.

Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment.

“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”

“Ellie, I d-”

“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”

You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first.

“Show me now.”

You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes.

“Are you sure about that?”

Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.

Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.

Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating.

She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips.

Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”

Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.

Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola.

You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.

“Holy shit, Ellie.”

You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself.

Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before.

She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.

“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already.

You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you.

“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out.

You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them.

“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”

You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way.

She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more.

“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”

You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it.

You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating.

“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”

Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”

“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”

You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time.

She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward.

Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it.

You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty.

“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”

“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good.

When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.

You think your heart is going to stop beating.

Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.

“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted.

Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”

She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones.

You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut.

“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”

You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”

She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”

You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you.

You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action.

“God, that cunt is so pretty.”

You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right.

“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips.

“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”

You halt your movements, “Ride him?”

“You’ve never ridden him before?”

Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories.

She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure.

“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”

The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious.

“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.

“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips.”

You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets.

“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.

“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. Your hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.

“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”

You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”

Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and begins to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response.

“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes, Ellie, fuck!”

She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself.

“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”

You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences.

“Jesus Christ…”

“It feels so good…”

“I want this pussy forever…”

You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high.

“That was per-”

“Babe!!”

Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.

You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps.

You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room.

He’s drunk.

“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.

“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum.

While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew.

“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.

He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse.

“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.

You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat.

“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room.

You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”

Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”

When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda.

Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality.

“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder.

Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”

She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”

“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”

taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)

@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna

#writing this took so long cause I hate everything I write sometimes #thanks for you patience #anon request #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou part 2 #ellie williams au #gracieheartspedro

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c4tluver02 · 2 months ago

Text

free movies

wc: 1.5k

summary: Normally Keith gives you a free movie just for being so pretty and kind. But what happens when he's gone and Steve's there?

cw: female anatomy, r has long hair, diva!reader barely but maybe?

a/n: so someone should send requests so im not only posting Steve in family video or in a pool........ i swear i acc have ideas guys!!!! Walk With Me.

The sun shining brightly through your window tells you it’s the perfect time to put on your shortest dress. It’s extremely hot out now that it's summer and wearing anything more than shorts and a tank top could kill you. It’s a nice dress that you can wear to run some errands like going to Family ideo, getting your car washed, maybe even a little sweet treat for all your hard work. It worked out perfectly.

So when you walk into Family Video with your short dress and push up bra you expect to see Keith. Your sweetest smile is already on display, but there's no sign of him. Only two kids who look about your age stand behind the counter arguing so loudly that they didn't even hear the door open and close. Immediately dropping the smile you walk up to the counter and tap on the counter, hoping to get someone's attention.

For Steve it wasn't even the sound of your nails on the ceramic surface but your perfume. It wrapped around him in a warm way, a hint of vanilla but not enough to suffocate him. He turned around to see where it was coming from and that's when he was met with you. In that pretty dress and, wow, your boobs look really good. You don’t look like you're trying too hard but it's obvious you're a little dressed up.

“Is Keith in today?” You ask with a head tilt looking at the back door as if you're waiting for him to walk out of it.

The two kids look at each other in surprise. No one ever asked for Keith, especially not a beautiful girl. Maybe you want to work here, Steve thinks. He really hopes that's the case then he could actually work up the courage to maybe ask you out?

“Uh Keith hasn't been in for like a month. Now that the new arcade is up he barely comes around.” The girl with bangs says. Her name tag is a little scratched up.

The boy however, Steve more like, he was silent as a mouse. Looking at you like he saw something otherworldly.

“Oh..” You say. Trying to hide the little bit of disappointment you feel that your little tricks might no longer work.

“Why do you need him anyways?” Steve asks.

You bite your lip, a little embarrassed to say the evil plan you've had. But Steve thinks the action alone made his pants a little tighter.

“Well, I would kinda flirt with him for a free film.” You say with a wince.

Both of their eyes shot out wide like you had told them you found a million dollars. Realizing how bad it sounds you are quick to explain yourself further.

“Fake flirt! It’s.. it’s all fake.” Now you're feeling silly for coming in here lookin like you're trying to impress someone and they think it's Keith.

“I just, kinda, come in and wear cute stuff and say hi and he gives me free movies.” You explain.

Robin lets out a laugh, it’s crazy but good for you! Steve thinks a little differently but is intrigued nonetheless.

“So you just fake laugh at his jokes and he falls for it?” Steve asks, surprised Keith would let anyone have a free movie. Maybe he was weaker than they thought.

“Yeah pretty much. I mean it's just putting on a dress, saying he looks good in his vest, and I walk out with a free film.” You say simply. The routine feels fine to you but now that you've said it outloud it’s not feeling so great.

“Well we can’t give you a free film but if you still want one feel free to look around!” Robin has her customer voice back on, probably done with you and your dumb tricks.

“I mean I could give you a friend's discount?” Robin sighs as Steve suggests it. Of course what worked on Keith is working on Steve.

“Really? You’d do that even though we just met?” You give him a smile but this time it’s real. Nothing like the fake ones you would flash at Keith.

“Yeah I mean just a one time special. Just because you pulled one on Keith and I’ve been wanting to do that since I got the job.” Steve laughs. It’s such a pretty sound. The more you look at him you realize his hazel eyes and amazing smile.

“That's really sweet of you. I promise the next time I show up I’ll look more normal. I just wanted a free movie.” You end it with a frown, sad you’ll have to start paying for a movie that you'll only use once.

Steve hates the look of a frown on your face. Your brows dip and the look in your eyes could break his heart if it went on any longer. Robin decided to walk to the back of the store and actually do her job. If you can pull one on Keith you can for sure pull it on Steve she thinks. She's surprised he wasn't target number one.

“Well for any consolation, you do look really nice.” He hopes it doesn't come out as bad as Keith would say it, he just wants it to soften the blow. It’s just a movie but Steve has this urge to fix your problem. One could even say he needs to see you leave with a smile that's real.

“Thank you.” It comes out sheepishly. This routine of words feels all too familiar for the situation. Normally coming out harmless but counterfeit, now coming out with heated pink cheeks and a hand twirling your hair.

“Do you have anything in mind for the movie you want?” Steve asks, ready to help you in any way. What wonderful customer service, right?

“I actually asked Keith to hold a movie.” You say with your hands coming to cover your face quickly.

“Oh, okay! What's the name it’s under?” He can tell this whole moment isn't how you normally present yourself but it's fun to watch you fall apart in front of him.

“It’s actually under his name. Or he told me it would be. God the more I talk about it outloud I feel awful about using him.” You’re back to biting your lip. Eyes on the prize, Steve.

“Nah, don't feel bad. He actually threatened to keep my check if I was late one more time so now I have something on him. He deserves it anyways.” Steve shrugs searching for the movie Keith hid away.

“I didn't even flirt with him the first few times I came in. I was just polite and I guess he took it a certain way and I guess I didn't say otherwise.” You keep explaining but Steve already sees you as some angel brought down just for him. The fact that you’re feeling like it’s your fault he flirted with you in the first place already shows Steve that your heart is in the right place.

“You make it sound like you broke his heart or something. You didn't do anything wrong.” Steve confirms and you nod your head in response. Ready to let the topic go, buy the movie, and leave. This whole thing has knocked your ego down a few levels, especially when doing it in front of someone as gorgeous as Steve.

He scans the movie and you pay in silence. It isn't awkward but it isn't something you want to linger any longer than it already is. Another customer has come in and Robin is there to help. You wish you could have met them in different circumstances, one where your ass isnt almost out of your dress and the flush to your cheeks isn't permanent. But maybe that's not a you problem but simply something that happens when you're around Steve.

He gives you a smile that makes you smile in return. Like seeing something so pretty you can't help but become instantly happy by seeing it.

“So when you come back are you still gonna be looking for Keith?” Steve asks with a hint of playfulness in his voice. His hands are pushed against the counter to hold himself up and he has really nice hands.

“Why would I when this Steve guy is so much better? He gives friends discounts y’know.” You say back and Steve could hear the purr in your voice.

But to look like the little gravel did not completely rock his world he rolled his eyes as he laughed. Steve puts your dvd in a bag and you really didn't need one but Steve needs an excuse to see you for even just a second longer.

“I think you might need to become friends with me to get that.” He’s still got your bag, not handing it back to you

You shrug your shoulders and sigh. “Then I guess i'll be here often.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #stranger things au #writing #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem

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