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motorsportbarbie13 · 1 month ago

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Christmas Showdown

In which you and Lando run into an ex-boyfriend while you're home for the holidays.

Warnings: talk of abusive relationship (no details though). Established relationship. Protective Lando. This could probably be better and it's pretty short buttttttt I needed to get this out of my head, so enjoy! Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!Reader Word Count: 1.8k words

Master List

It had been several years since you spent the holidays in your small Midwestern hometown. Usually, your family flew out to London or Monaco to spend the holiday’s with you there, much preferring to leave Michigan’s several feet of snow that was typically on the ground during Christmas. This year was different thought. Your grandmother had been too ill to make the long flight so instead, you came to them. Which was fine with you, you had missed seeing friends that were home for the holidays and missed the nostalgic nights spent around the Christmas tree with your family. The one person who was not fine with it, however, was your boyfriend.

Lando Norris simply hated the cold. He hated being cold. Hated thinking about the cold. Hated the snow. Anytime the temperature dipped below 50 degrees Fahrenheit ( which also a fight you two had often was how he refused to learn the difference between Fahrenheit and Celsius while also simultaneously refusing to do the same for him.) So you knew he must really be down bad for you when he had agreed (albeit a bit sluggishly) to spend the Christmas holiday with you in your (freezing) hometown.

There was minimal complaining for the first few days you were at home, mostly because it the weather was fair enough to not be something comparable to the North Pole, but trouble arose the day of your Aunt and Uncle’s infamous Christmas party. The first sign of trouble was your brother’s insistence on a family outing to the sledding hill that was a few miles from your house. Of course Lando had packed several parkas but when he had seen the Canada Goose store in the mall the day before, he had bought the thickest, best cold rated puffer jacket he could find. Despite that and several layers of long johns and sweaters, by the time you reached the sledding hill your poor boyfriend was shivering like your grandma’s ancient chihuahua.

To his credit though, there was not one single utterance of a complaint or plea to go back to your parents house for a cup of hot chocolate then entire time. Lando happily chased your nieces and nephews around the sledding hill and even went down the hill a few times with you.

“Okay, folks!” Your dad calls out as the afternoon sun hangs low in the sky. “I think it’s time we all head home and get ready for Judy and Steve’s party tonight. I expect everyone to be at their house by 7pm sharp!” The ‘this reminder is for your benefit’ look that your dad sends you has your already wind chapped face turning even more red.

“I don’t know why you’re glaring at me! I’m always on time!” You shout, grabbing for Lando’s hand. “We’ll see you guys tonight!”

Once you get in the Range Rover that Lando had rented for the two week visit, he immediately turns the heated seats on full power and cranks up the heat.

“Do you want to swing by Starbucks and get something warm before going home?” You ask as Lando pulls out of the park and onto the snowy street. “I feel like I might need to just get you an IV of hot chocolate at this point.”

Lando gives you a sidelong glare. “I think I have icicles in my nose hairs.”

Laughter tumbles out of you, quick and light, sending a thrill of pleasure down Lando’s spine. You two had been dating for a few years now and there were still times he’d look over at you and think ‘how the fuck did I convince this girl to be my girlfriend?’. You had come into his life at a particularly challenging time and had been his rock since day one.

“Starbucks it is, my poor little snowman. There’s one up here in this strip mall. Turn left at this light and then it’s on the right.”

The parking lot, which is a shared lot with several other big box stores, is an absolute zoo and you can see the line snaking around the inside of the Starbucks before you even go in. To save some time, Lando drops you off at the front door while he goes and finds a spot for the large SUV.

The line is long when you get inside but you’re thankful to at least be out of the bitter cold. While you wait in line, you mindlessly scroll on your Instagram, which is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Going private on all socials and not being featured heavily on Lando’s had been one of the things you two had agreed upon when things started getting serious nearly two years ago now. People who were huge Lando fans knew who you were but the casual F1 fan probably wouldn’t have been able to pick you out of a lineup.

Your casually scrolling, minding your own business, when a deep voice calling your name jolts you out of your little social media bubble.

“Jeff?” You sputter, surprised to see your college boyfriend standing in front of you in line, huge smile on his face.

Jeff had been one of the guys you and your best friends had drooled over in high school, having been nearly two years ahead of you when you were teens. You didn’t start dating him until your freshman year of college, when he was already a junior. To say the man was toxic was an understatement. In fact, now that you had a few years distance between the now and the end of the relationship, you could confidently say Jeff had been pretty abusive.

“Hey, stranger!” He says, leaning in for a hug. You go completely still, totally unprepared to be faced with the man who had caused you so much trauma in the two years you had dated. “I have’t seen you in ages, visiting your family for the holidays?”

You toss a look over your shoulder, desperately wishing for Lando to come walking in the door. “Uh, yeah. First time in a few years. I usually fly them over to London or Monaco for the holidays.”

A dark shadow passes over Jeff’s face at the mention of where you live now. “Monaco, huh? You always thought you were too good for us here, didn’t you?”

Your stomach twists painfully at the look in his eyes and you briefly consider just turning around and walking right out of the Starbucks without your drinks.

Before you can stutter out a response, a strong pair of large hands wraps around your waist as Lando drops his head onto your shoulder. “Darling. Baby. Sweetheart. Love of my life." Lando croons in your ear, not yet picking up on your body language. "I adore you but why the fuck did you have to be born in a place where the air hurts your face?”

You laugh stiffly despite yourself. “Talk to my parents about that one, love.”

Lando drops a kiss on your cheek before looking over at the other man. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.”

Across from you, Jeff had been watching this exchange between Lando and you with an increasing amount of annoyance. Who the fuck was this and why was he calling you the love of his life?

“Lando, this is Jeff.” You turn slightly, giving Lando a knowing look which he catches onto immediately. “Jeff, this is my boyfriend, Lando.”

“That’s an interesting name. Only heard that name twice before, once in Star Wars and…” Jeff’s voice drops off as he finally makes the connection. “Wait. Lando…as in Lando Norris?”

The smug grin that stretches across Lando’s face nearly has you giggling. “That’s me. And you’re Jeff, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you. None of it good.”

Lando remembered the first time you had ever opened up to him a few months into dating about how you had been in an abusive relationship in college and how much work it had taken to recover from it. He had been your first serious relationship after leaving Jeff, having left the country just to get away from him. Internally, Lando raged at the man standing in front of you two, the protective instinct in him screaming to just lay the guy out right here.

Jeff’s already ruddy face turns red with incandescent rage. You had totally forgotten he was a big Formula One fan and when you remember the fact that not only is he an F1 fan, but a huge McLaren fan, the urge to giggle hits you again. Oh, this was just too good.

“How’d you…” Jeff stutters. “How’d you manage to bag yourself a Formula 1 driver?”

The question is a pathetic attempt to rile you up and insult you but both you and Lando see that question for exactly what it is.

Lando plants another kiss on your cheek and you know he’s doing it to be an asshole. “I was actually the one who pursued her. She turned me down left and right for nearly a year, didn’t you baby?”

You nod, remembering the way Lando had come into your office at the McLaren Tech Center day after day just to make small talk at first but finally had worked up the nerve to ask you out. You were one of the newer people on the comms team back then and you hand’t wanted to jeopardize the career you had worked so hard for so you had turned him down for nearly a year, insisting that you wanted nothing more than a friendship with the driver.

“But eventually, he wore me down. He flew me to Monaco and took me out on his yacht for our first date, it was all very romantic.” It had actually been Max’s yacht, but Jeff didn’t need to know that bit.

You can see Jeff practically seething at this point, knowing that you’re doing so well and he’s still apparently stuck in your hometown.

“And how are you doing, Jeff? Still working at your dad’s law firm? How is Vance doing? And Laura?” You know it’s killing him, asking about his parents by their first name.

Jeff just blinks at you for a few moments, realizing you weren’t the little girl he used to push around and take advantage of in college anymore. “Made partner last year, actually.”

“That must be easy to do when your dad owns the practice, huh?” Lando says, voice nothing but light innocence.

Jeff’s eyes bounce between you and Lando for several moments before he suddenly reaches into his pocket. “If you’d excuse me, it looks like the office is calling me.”

“A call from the office the day before Christmas! Gosh, you must be very important, Jeffery.” Lando’s low blow to Jeff’s big ego hits true and without another word, the man scampers out of the Starbucks without a second glance in your direction.

Once he’s gone, both you and Lando dissolve into giggles, your head finding it’s favorite spot on Lando’s shoulder. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to deck you there are the end.”

“And mess up his pretty lawyer hands? Honey, I doubt he even knows how to throw a punch.”

tag list @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic

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gilbertscurls · 27 days ago

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trading places — matt sturniolo

summary: matt gets tired during a roadtrip.

The highway stretched endlessly ahead, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting a golden hue over everything. You sat in the passenger seat, legs tucked beneath yourself, idly scrolling through your playlist. Nick and Chris were in the back, laughing about something, as they always did, their voices blending with the music playing softly in the background. The car hummed along, its gentle rhythm almost lulling you to sleep.

But then, you glanced over at Matt.

His eyes were focused on the road, but they seemed heavy, the dark circles under them more prominent now in the fading light. Every so often, his hand would flex on the steering wheel, his grip tightening, trying to stay alert.

“Hey,” you said softly, nudging his arm. “You good?”

Matt gave you a quick smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, but we’re almost there.”

You weren’t convinced. You could see the fatigue in the way his shoulders slumped, how his blinks lasted just a little too long. The trip had been fun so far—hours of laughter and road trip banter with his brothers—but it was clear Matt had taken on more than his share by driving the whole way.

“You look exhausted,” you pointed out, your tone gentle but firm. “How about I take over for a bit?”

Nick and Chris paused their conversation at that, both looking toward the front.

Nick chimed in, half-joking, “You offering to drive? Because, uh, I’d love to see that.”

You rolled your eyes but kept your attention on Matt. “Yes, I’m offering. You guys can’t drive,” you added, turning back to shoot a look at Nick and Chris, “since none of you bothered to get your licenses.”

Chris grinned. “Hey, we just like being chauffeured around by Matt.”

“Yeah, real helpful,” Matt muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on the wheel again. You could see the strain in him now, the long hours of being behind the wheel wearing him down.

“Matt, pull over,” you insisted, your voice soft but leaving no room for argument. “You’re too tired. I’ll drive the rest of the way.”

For a moment, Matt hesitated. He wasn’t one to give up control easily, and you knew that. But his eyes flicked over to yours, catching the concern written all over your face, and something in him relented.

“Alright,” he sighed, signaling to pull off at the nearest rest stop. “But if anything happens to my car—”

“Nothing’s going to happen to your car,” you interrupted, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve got this.”

Once you swapped places, Matt moved to the passenger seat, reclining the seat almost immediately. You glanced over at him as you adjusted the mirrors, seeing the way his eyes were already half-closed. He was barely holding on.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice low and sleepy. “I owe you one.”

“Just rest,” you said, your heart softening at how drained he looked. “You’ve earned it.”

Matt closed his eyes, and within moments, he was out cold. You smiled to yourself, turning your attention back to the road. From the backseat, Nick and Chris had resumed their banter, but their words faded into the background as you focused on driving. The car felt different with you at the wheel, but in a good way—you were in control now, and Matt could finally rest.

As the miles passed, the sky darkened, stars dotting the horizon. Every so often, you would glance over at Matt, peaceful in his sleep. It was moments like this that reminded you how much he took on for his brothers, always the one to shoulder the responsibility, even when it wore him down.

And, you realized with a quiet smile, you didn’t mind stepping up for him when he needed it most.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry

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slttygeto · 2 months ago

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Oh no, it's Ghostface! HANMA S.

Synopsis: When you ask your boyfriend what he wants for his birthday, he tells you that it's a secret. How is it his birthday but you're the one getting surprised? You don't question his intentions and proceed with your day at work. Little did you know the kind of tricks Hanma had up his sleeve.

word count: 3,7k

pairing: hanma x fem! reader

content warning: dark content, slightly cnc (read at your own risk), slight breath play, gvn k!nk, fear play, rough oral sex (m! receiving), lots of drool, a bit of mindbreak?

The sound of heels clicking on the floor fills the hallway as you approach your apartment door. It had been a long, exhausting day, yet a smile still manages to find its way onto your face as you remember the date. October has never been your favorite month, you can’t exactly pinpoint the reason why but you’re always filled with sadness as the colder season approaches.

Probably seasonal depression, who knows?

Inserting the key, you push the door open nothing but darkness greets you. It’s rare for the apartment to be engulfed in such suffocating gloom, especially knowing that your boyfriend preferred a dimly lit space. Still, you brush it off, proceeding to remove your knee high boots and place them on the shoe rack.

“Shuji?” you call out for your boyfriend, eyes trying to make out any details but it’s difficult. So you reach for the switch and flip it. Still nothing.

Did the power go out?

It’s a pretty expensive apartment complex, you highly doubt that the power goes out and Hanma does nothing about it. So you try again, and again and–still nothing but darkness.

“Shuuu,” you drag the first syllable of his name on your tongue, grabbing your phone to turn on the flashlight. Since it was his birthday, you had half expected him to stay home, but then again he was Kisaki’s right hand and it wasn’t rare for him to receive phone calls from the shorter man asking him to take care of something for him.

However, your body feels a little tense. Your shared apartment with your boyfriend was rather spacious, and there were many spots you disliked walking by during the night because of how hidden they were. You proceed down the hallway with your phone’s flashlight illuminating the path in front of you, sighing deeply when you notice that all of the rooms’ doors were closed and none of the curtains had been opened all day.

You’re about to point your flashlight towards your bedroom door when you hear something to your left and freeze.

No way. There was no way for it to be Hanma. His shoes were gone, so were his car keys–but this area had a lot of security and no one would be able to walk in unless they had special access to the main lobby. There were no signs of forced entry and every single window was closed–your brain is running a thousand miles a second, and you’re too busy trying to make sense of the noise that you had just heard to react fast. Before you could point your flashlight properly towards that one corner, you swipe your thumb across your screen and click on ‘contacts’.

Suddenly, you’re pinned to the wall with such force that it knocks the wind out of your chest and a gloved hand covers your mouth in an attempt to muffle the scream that rips out of you. You’re dizzy–you’re breathing fast and trying to make sense of what’s happening around you. With teary eyes, you look up and your heart drops in your stomach. A shiny, terrifying ghostface mask is right in front of you and whoever’s wearing it is breathing hard. They notice your trembling lip, the tears coating your lash line and tilt their head to the side.

Trembling, you think they haven’t noticed the phone in your hand despite the flashlight being the only source of light. Your thumb messily swipes across the screen and finds Shuji’s contact at the top of the list. Press call.

The sound of a familiar ring tone fills the apartment, your eyebrows furrow in both confusion and fear. Was he here? Maybe he was hurt and needed your help and–

But the longer the phone rang, the deeper it sank that the sound was way close to you. Way too close.

Your breath hitches as you watch the tall masked man reach into his left pocket. A gloved hand grabs the familiar phone and your name appears on the screen. Before picking up the phone, he pushes your hand up until you’re forced to press the device to your ear and you watch as he mirrors your actions.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” The unmistakable, chilling voice sends shivers down your spine. You recognize the unsettling calmness to it and all your body can do is melt against the wall as your knees buckle. But the tall man isn’t having any of it, and he pins you even harder against the wall. His gloved hand goes from your mouth down to your neck, and the grip is all too familiar that you can’t help but let out a strangled moan.

Despite the fear gripping your bones, you part your quivering lips to reply.

“Why… Do you want to ask me out on a date?” Your voice comes out small and unsteady, and you sniffle, desperately blinking back tears. A low chuckle escapes the man’s lips as he feels your harsh swallow beneath the grip of his hand.

“Maybe… Do you have a boyfriend?”

Before you could even manage a reply, you feel him push his knee between your thighs and a loud gasp escapes your lips. “I–”

“Do you?” The emphasis in his voice combined with his knee rubbing against your clothed pussy leaves you breathless. You can’t give a proper reply, not with your head tipped back in pleasure and your hips bucking up when he grazes your aching clit. Sensing that you were enjoying yourself, your boyfriend pulls away his knee and you’re immediately whining at the loss.

“Shuji–” you can’t see his face or what kind of expression is behind the mask, but you would hope that your desperation moves something in him. However, you forget that your boyfriend is a ruthless criminal, someone with years of expertise in physical and psychological torture. And he makes sure to put it to good use.

A pained moan escapes you when you’re being roughly pushed off the wall, only for your chest and cheek to get pinned to the cold, hard surface. Your phone falls to the ground and Hanma grabs both of your wrists, pinning them behind your back. You feel powerless as he pushes up the brown leather skirt you were wearing, hissing when he sees that you were wearing the smallest pair of underwear beneath.

“Did ya prepare for this, doll? Knew I was gonna fuck ya senseless the moment you walked in–” he momentarily breaks character, forgetting the role he’s supposed to be playing and you feel your heart and pussy swell. Being able to distract a man like Hanma was something you took pride in. You instinctively push back against him, brushing your ass against his crotch and hear yet another loud hiss from the man.

“Fucking slut.” The plastic part of the mask feels chilling and unsettlingly hard against your ear as filth spews out of his mouth. Muffled and low, the sound of his voice alone is enough to have your mind reeling at all the things he will say.

“Answer me.” You don’t expect something hard to press against your clothed pussy so soon, your jaw drops at the cold feeling as you struggle to get away from it.

“Shuji!” you cry out for the man, but to no avail.

“Shuji,” he says in a mocking tone, pressing the item harder against your pussy as he grabs your wrists in place. “How fucking pathetic, you’ve already gone dumb just from something rubbing against your pussy?” His voice drips with dark amusement. Hanma knows how to have fun with you, sex with him is never boring simply because the way that his brain works was fascinating–but you had always wondered if you could get a glimpse of a darker side of him.

However, up until today, he always rejected the idea. Primarily due to the fact that you were his girlfriend, someone whom he cherished with all of his cold and sheltered heart and a person whom he liked to keep away from his business. To the world, he is Hanma–a ruthless killer with a criminal background that could paralyze anyone with fear but to you, he was Shuji. Your sweet, loving boyfriend.

Your loving boyfriend who always fucked you when he came back from a mission with blood painting his face, your sweet and doting boyfriend who let you ride his face because you found him so hot when there were a few cuts and bruises there. You suggest that he integrates his dangerous side during sex and he refuses, but the idea lingers at the forefront of his mind the longer he remembers the pout sitting on your lips and how eager you seemed with everything.

So, the first step was to buy a ghostface mask.

And the second was to fuck you while he wears it.

“Yes,” you answer, barely catching your breath. “I-I prepared.”

“Oh yeah?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “You wanted me to fuck you?”

“It’s y-your birthday,” your breath hitches when the cold material presses harder against your clit, and Hanma watches as you subconsciously move back and forth against it with a wide grin.

“Fucking hell, look at you. Do you know what you’re fucking yourself on, slut?”

You whimper, a sign of confusion and Hanma offers an amused chuckle before pressing the mask against your ear.

“My gun.”

He sees your eyes widening and laughs loudly when you don’t pull away or flinch. Instead, you move your hips back and forth–slow and sloppy, face burning with shame. This had been a fantasy of yours–you’re starting to believe that Hanma has wanted to do this just as much as you did.

“Didn’t know you wanted it this bad,” he’s obviously caught off guard by how needy you are, but it doesn’t stop him from pressing harder and nudging your clit in ways that have your eyes roll to the back of your head. He watches as shame leaves your body and it’s replaced by pure lust as you chase your high. You’re panting, eyes screwed shut and lips parted to let out the sweetest moans.

“Yeah just like that–” you can feel his hard on pressing against your backside, but you’re far too distracted to care. “Use my gun to get off. Good girl–my pretty slut.”

Pleasure courses through your veins like hot lava, it blinds you momentarily and shuts down your brain as you desperately chase your orgasm. You’re certain that the sentences you were blabbering made no sense, you could hear Hanma speaking to you and could make out that he was mocking you by saying “Oh yeah?” “Oh baby, poor you.” but none of it mattered when you were so close to your release. Your thighs tremble, your voice a pitch higher and there’s drool dripping down the side of your mouth. The knot in your stomach feels hot and tightens with each desperate grind against the gun. You’re about to cum, you’re so fucking close–

A pained cry leaves your lips when Hanma pulls the gun away, heartless and cold.

“Why?! Why–” you sob before flinching when he lets go of your wrists to spank you harshly.

“Are you fucking questioning me?” He grips your hair harshly, pulling your head back and craning your neck at an uncomfortable angle. “You don’t fucking deserve to cum.”

“But–but Shuji–” still gripping your hair, Hanma pushes you down until you’re on your knees and you instinctively turn around until you’re eye level with his crotch. Eager and blinded with lust, your hands reach for his belt and start to unbuckle it but Hanma grips your hair tighter and you gasp at the pain.

“Didn’t say you could touch it yet, did I?” Now that you were on your knees for him, Hanma could confidently say that this was the hottest sight ever. Your makeup was smudged, mascara running down your cheeks and your eyes were blown out with lust. He should’ve done it sooner.

“Please,” you lean forward, chin resting on his hard on and your hands rest on his ass. “Please,” you drag your nose against the fabric of his pants, before pressing a gentle kiss to his clothed dick. “I can make you feel good, Mr. Ghostface.”

Hanma lets out a muffled “fuck,” before pushing your face against his dick and you take it as a sign to get to work. You make quick work of his belt and pants before pulling down his boxers and watch as his cock springs free. You don’t waste a single second before wrapping your hand around the shaft, gripping it enough to have the man’s breath hitching. His cock was a work of art, and you always found yourself enjoying oral sex with Hanma mainly because you enjoyed having his cock in your mouth. So you kiss the balls, dragging your tongue along the shaft and don’t give the man a warning before letting your mouth engulf the tip. It’s a small move, but it makes the masked man grip your hair tightly and the silence is now replaced by the much anticipated dirty talk.

“Fuck, do I love when you use your mouth like that,” he sounds so fucked out, drowning in pleasure that you can’t help but let out a moan yourself. The vibrations send shivers down Shuji’s spine and he is quick to remind you to take the whole thing.

“Suck.” Within a few moments, there is spit and drool everywhere. Your hand strokes the parts you can’t reach, and you pull away to spit on the tip whenever you can before bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Hanma, however, is still not satisfied.

“You’re gonna take the whole thing.” Your eyes widen at his statement, and you pull away to complain.

“But Shuji–” your heart stops when you feel something cold press against your forehead.

“Come on, doll.” You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and through teary lashes. “Don’t look away.”

Your hands tremble as they settle on his thighs for support and you’re glad he doesn’t ask you to put them behind your back. Inhaling deeply, you look up at the man as you start to swallow his dick–inch after inch, the deeper he goes, the harder it is to keep your eyes open or stop yourself from gagging. And when you do and try to pull away, Hanma pushes the gun against your forehead. Finally, you manage to fit all of him down your throat and you’re proud to hear the muffled groan that leaves Hanma’s lips. You could’ve sworn that you saw his knees buckle as well, but you can’t afford to focus on anything else with his cock down your throat.

“Good fucking girl, oh fuuuuck,” he lets out a laugh when you pull away to breathe, coughing and trying to catch your breath before grabbing his cock again. “Oh yeah, someone’s desp–fuck, desperate.” you hum in response, taking him down your throat before repeating the same movement over and over again. Until Hanma’s hips buck into your face and he presses your nose against his pubic hair. You cough and gag, drool spilling down your jaw. You’re smacking his thigh, reminding him that you needed air but to no avail. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you swear dark dots are starting to form. You were going to pass out, you can’t breathe–

It’s not until your fingers aren’t digging into the skin of his thighs that Hanma lets go of you. He watches as you fall to the ground, a hand to your chest as you try to catch your breath and messily wipe the drool on your chin.

“Up.” He speaks, and your body responds to his command as if it were second nature. You feel dizzy, and the longer Shuji wears the mask, the more difficult it is to remember who’s behind the mask. A gloved hand grabs your jaw, pulling you close until the lips of the mask are brushing against your own.

“Tell me,” he says lowly, his other hand traveling down to grab your ass. “How much do you want me to fuck you?”

“So-so much,” you admit, broken. You can no longer think straight or try to mask the lust. Your body craves Hanma like the moon needs the stars, you’ve never been teased like this–so heartlessly, without being able to look into his golden eyes for comfort and a way to ground yourself. There was no reminder that it was your boyfriend, the one who gives you the softest smiles and whose eyes meet yours when you’re about to cum. Behind this mask was a different man, and you were starting to lose your grip on reality.

The gloved hand goes from your jaw to your cheek, and you let out a small noise when you feel him wiping something.

Tears.

Hanma is well aware of his sick and twisted desires, but watching you cry is on another level. It makes his cock twitch and his heart beats loudly against his ribcage.

“Beg me.”

“Please.” You ask, desperately.

“Again.”

“Please fuck me–please, Shuj–please.” You start to blabber, lips quivering and fat tears streaming down your face. Hanma finally breaks.

You’re caught off guard as he throws you over his shoulder, letting out a startled squeak when he forcefully pushes the door open to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t give you time to get used to your surroundings as throws you on the bed before grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down to the edge of the bed. It’s still dark in the apartment, and Hanma doesn’t have enough time to turn the power back on, so he reaches for the curtains and pulls them open so that the only source of light was the street lamp outside.

He approaches the bed again, hurried and impatient to fuck you stupid. Before he can reach for your panties, your hand goes to his ghostface mask and he doesn’t have it in him to stop you from taking it off of him.

Finally, you can see his face. He was all sweaty, flushed cheeks and a few hair strands sticking to his forehead not to mention–his pupils were blown out with lust. This was your Shuji, your boyfriend–the ghostface mask was hot, but you preferred this side of your boyfriend. You waste no time to bring him closer to you, crashing your lips against his in a messy, tongues dancing and spit swapping kiss. It’s anything but romantic, your bodies consumed with an animalistic kind of lust for one another. Instead of taking off your panties, Hanma rips them off of your body and muffles your complaining noises with his lips once again.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” Is all he says before pushing your knees open. Your pussy is glistening with arousal, all puffy and swollen from not being touched enough and Hanma leans down to spit on it and give your clit a wet kiss.

“Fuck–” your close your eyes at the feeling, suddenly growing aware of all of the layers on your body that needed to come off. But you didn’t have time for that, and neither did Hanma. So, he pushes up your turtleneck shirt and watches as your boobs spill out. Holding the fabric, your boyfriend proceeds to push your knees to your chest line up the tip of his cock with your entrance.

He lets himself in, slowly and taking in the way your jaw goes slack and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. You had been craving this, you were practically begging for his cock and watching you unravel just from him pressing inside made it nearly impossible for Hanma to hold back.

“Come here,” he leans down to kiss your lips, sloppy and wet as he starts to move his hips. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, leaving creamy rings at the base that has Hanma cursing under his breath. Meanwhile, your head is thrown back and you don’t seem to notice or feel anything but the way that his cock felt against your warm walls.

“Thought of giving me the best birthday gift–fuck, you are my birthday gift,” the tall man starts to blabber, clearly lost in the pleasure and in the feeling of your tight pussy. “This pussy is the best gift I could’ve asked for–” he bites down on your bottom lip, finally getting you to whine in response. Your hands grip his shoulders when he starts to pick up his pace, eyes widening when his tip starts to press against that one spot.

“Yes right there–oh fuck, right there!”

“I got you.” your legs are thrown over his shoulder and a hand wraps around your neck as he maintains his pace, hips remaining in the same angle that has you seeing stars. It’s not until you’re cumming around his cock, crying and shaking, that Hanma can finally lose himself and fuck you hard. He fucks you until you’re crying for him to slow down, watching as the creamy ring that forms at the base is smeared all over his pubic hair and your hand is pushing at his stomach.

“I can’t–I can’t–”

“Take it,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fucking pussy is milking me dry–holy shit.” he curses as he buries his face in your neck, feeling you squeeze around him as you orgasm again. The feeling of your tight pussy along with your nails digging into his back has the man shooting his cum inside after a couple of strokes.

You both lay there in silence for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breath and party because Hanma knows you need this skin on skin moment. This wasn’t a moment where he could wipe you down, kiss you goodnight and go to sleep–he needed to be present.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

“Hold me,” hearing the desperation in your voice, Hanma lowers your legs and brings you closer to him. He kisses your cheeks, forehead and then your nose. There are tears in your eyes still, but the eye contact with him helps ground you. The love and warmth in them remind you that it’s him, your boyfriend and not Ghostface who had fucked your face senseless.

“Happy birthday, Shu,” you say as you grab his face and the tall man can’t help but chuckle.

“Happy birthday to me.”

2024 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#happyyyy shuji day and halloween!!!#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #hanma smut #hanma x reader #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji smut #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma x yn #hanma x you #hanma shuji x you #tr smut #tr x reader #tr hanma

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silverfairywings · 3 months ago

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— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT II

eris vanserra x reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: this one’s really long sorry!! not proofread and I’ve decided it’s going to be incredibly slow burn… send ur thoughts, and if you want to be in the tag list please send an ask instead as I’m more like to see it :)

You make the mistake of breathing in deeply through your nose as you walk through the meadow of the Spring Court, the crisp air and smell of wildflowers tickling its way into your nostril and forcing a sneeze out of you.

The long stems of grass, wet with morning dew and brushing against your calves are like little needles poking your skin. The itching sensation in your nose caused by the sheer amount of flowers makes your eyes water and all you can think about is the relentless urge to sneeze over and over again.

“I don’t think there’s a single living thing within 50 miles that hasn’t scurried away,” Rhysand says, as if he’s commenting on the weather. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can even form the words on your lips, the thought vanishes as the tickle flares up in your nose again and another sneeze explodes from you. “I think that was sneeze number nineteen and we’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”

“I can’t help it. How does anyone live amongst all of this greenery without wanting to scratch their faces off?” you ask, sniffling pathetically. “And how long before the others arrive? Surely counting my sneezes is below the duties of a High Lord.”

“Most Fae don’t suffer with your affliction. It’s probably something to do with how you were Made,” Azriel adds, not unkindly. He stands slightly further away from you, Rhys and Nesta and if it weren’t for his shadows, you’d have thought he was too preoccupied with keeping watch to listen in. “And it’s sneeze number eighteen actually.”

Nesta narrows her eyes, peering behind Azriel and then sighing in relief. “Thank the Mother,” she mumbles. “Took them long enough. If I had to hear another word about your damned nose…”

You sniff loudly to make a point. You’re about to reply until you spot the two figures in the distance, walking towards the three of you at a deliberately unhurried pace. You first recognise Helion, the morning rays of sun setting his skin aglow as though his powers commanded them to; you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually doing as much to make a fashionable entrance. The charming grin he shoots your ways is contagious and you can’t help returning it until your focus shifts to the person beside him and you try not to let your face drop.

Even half-shielded from view, the sight of Eris sets your teeth on edge. His tall, lean frame sharply contrasts with the brightness of the meadow, his deep mahogany tunic making him stand out further amongst the flowers. The way he walks with such easy arrogance and moves with an infuriatingly casual stride as though he just belongs there makes your skin prickle with irritation.

Eris’ sharp amber eyes sweep across the group until they land on you for a short moment, a flicker of recognition and something else you don’t care to analyse in his gaze before he turns back to Rhys. The brief looks feels like a challenge and you feel your irritation growing, so you wrench your gaze away from him and focus on Helion instead.

“My, what a pleasant little group we’ve compiled,” the High Lord of Day says, tone pleasant and amused as always. He tilts his head, considering. “Morrigan wasn’t available?”

“She’s with Feyre, Elain and Tarquin,” Rhys responds with a roll of his eyes, but his faint smile tells you he’s pleased to see Helion, rather than annoyed. Nesta looks as though she wants nothing more than to go home, and Azriel looks impassive as always. “They’re covering the border on the East side.”

“Lovely group all the same,” Helion hums, winking at you, teasingly. You shake your head at him, smiling despite yourself. “Shall we?”

Gesturing ahead of you all, Helion starts walking and the rest of you follow, but not before Eris catches your gaze again and raises an eyebrow in question. Your cheeks warm and the smile you had previously given Helion starts to slip, but Eris looks away and walks ahead before you can fully react. The few seconds at a time that you engage in eye contact with the male have you assessing how his expression is sharper than it previously was.

His hair is shorter, you realise. The fiery red strands are no longer draping down his back, instead the ends are no longer than his shoulders, the tips just brushing against his collarbones. The previously long front pieces have been cropped short, his hair no longer looking long enough to tie back in a braid without falling back.

It’s almost as though there’s now nothing to soften the intensity of his gaze every time it passes over you and if that weren’t enough to unsettle you, it’s the realisation that you’re paying more attention to Eris’ hair than to the main reason you’re here in the first place.

Diplomatic relationships had greatly improved between Tamlin and the rest of the High Lords after many years of healing after the war. The Spring Court, while nearly restored to its former glory, had become the target of some recent attacks near the borders. Thus, Tamlin had requested the assistance of the other courts, with the exception of no outside help, ever the paranoid High Lord. Unfortunately, that excludes the security of the soldiers you’ve grown accustomed to, which has you looking over your shoulder every few minutes.

You knew Eris had agreed to help, but you weren’t aware he’d be in such close quarters. Well, as close as he could be with you walking right next to Nesta at the back of the group as she twisted and turned the hem of her dress keep it from getting caught on all the foliage.

“Remind me why we agreed to this,” she mutters under her breath, not quietly enough.

Rhysand throws a look over his shoulder while walking. “Because Tamlin requested our help,” he answers, his tone carefully neutral. “And we have a responsibility to agree to reasonable requests from other High Lords. If not to keep the peace between the Courts, then to ensure whatever’s happening doesn’t become a larger problem for the rest of us.”

“You know Tamlin’s not here, right?” Eris drawls, sardonically. “Meaning we don’t have to act like we actually like him.”

“What, the same way we act like we like you?” you mumble, unable to stop the words from escaping. You wince when Nesta snorts loudly, hiding her laughter in her hand. Even Azriel’s lips quirk up.

Eris finally looks over at you properly this time with a faint smirk, tilting his head. “You wound me, darling,” he says, his voice a silky challenge that you know from experience is daring you to push him further. “But I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

You force yourself to meet his eyes, physically unable to back down now that he’s spoken. It’s as though he flips a switch of irritation in you every time he talks, yet you never learn your lesson. It’s something to do with the amusement in his gaze, as if he enjoys your quick retorts that really gets under your skin.

“And you’re irritating as always,” you say, sighing as though you’re delivering unfortunate news. You look away, dismissively as you walk a little faster in an attempt to catch up to Nesta, from whom you’ve fallen behind. “But none of us would expect anything less from you.”

Eris continues walking at a leisurely pace, still closer to you than you are to Nesta and the others. Damn these stupid long-stemmed flowers.

A couple of them are particularly overgrown, the pollen seeming to waft right up into your nose and setting you off sneezing again. One particularly violent sneeze sends you stumbling and the world spins for a split second. Before you can hit the ground, a firm hand grips your elbow and pulls you upright, causing your back to bump against a solid chest.

You steady yourself and spin around to come face to face with Eris. His hand lingers on your arm, amber eyes glinting with amusement when you glance down, frowning before you yank it out of his grip. “I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly,” he replies drily, but doesn’t comment any further, taking a step back while keeping his eyes on you. His unwavering gaze makes you freeze, and it’s like he can sense your confusion as his lips quirk up. Bizarrely, he doesn't seem to be making fun of you, instead he just looks as though you’re both engaged in your usual banter and he’s enjoying it.

“Keep up, children,” Helion’s voice from ahead snaps you out of it and you step away, smoothing down your clothes and rushing forward to catch up with the others.

Before you looked away though, you caught Eris’ expression being schooled back into his usual aloof demeanour. It unsettles you, but you push the thought away as Nesta tilts her head at you in questioning. You shake your head slightly and smile reassuringly in answer, but her eyes narrow a little in suspicion.

The further you venture into the forest, the more your head clears, away from the pollen in the meadow, indicating you’re close to the border. The large trees offer you a welcome shade and you take a deep breath.

You’re grateful when you’re unable to sense any oncoming sniffling, but something else starts to tug at the edges of your awareness. It starts off as subtle and you brush it off, but the closer you get to the edges of the forest and nearer to the border, the stronger it becomes.

Rhys calls for a halt when you’ve reached your destination and your feet start to walk you to the walls of magic on their own accord. No one stops you, but they watch warily as you close your eyes, trying to understand what you’re sensing.

It’s took a while to come to terms with the abilities thrust upon you by the Cauldron, the ability to detect and absorb other people’s magic. You felt confident enough to distinguish what you felt from the magic of the people around you and it makes you exhale shakily.

“What is it?” Rhys murmurs, voice sharp but quiet as not to disrupt your concentration. You don’t need to sense anything else though, and so you turn around and shake your head.

“Fae magic,” you answer, slightly underwhelmed. “Just regular, old Fae magic. I don’t think there’s anything sinister here.”

The group all seem to visibly relax slightly, although Azriel’s shadows are still flitting around him like a flock of birds, some venturing out to explore and then returning to whisper at his ears. “Whoever was here has gone now. It’s just us.”

“What does it feel like?” Nesta asks, directing the question to you. She’s referring to the magic, knowing you can usually detect a type of feeling with each strain. “How dangerous?”

“It’s not that it’s dangerous,” you explain, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectant gazes. “It’s more angry than anything. And there’s so many of them, all with slightly different undertones.”

“Ah, how wonderful,” Helion remarks, cheery demeanour never slipping. “A large group of angry Fae with the nerve to attack the borders of a known crazed High Lord. Not dangerous in the slightest.”

You send him a withering stare, with no real heat in it. Rhysand ignores him, glancing back at the rest of you. “We should split up for a while. If something feels off, send out a message and we can regroup. Stay alert.”

You all nod, about to wander off until Helion catches everyone’s attention when he starts to literally glow.

The forest is darker where you all stand and it looks even more concealed further ahead so you aren’t surprised he’s doing as such, but the bright light is nearly blinding.

Eris scowls, the flames swirling around his own hands giving just enough illumination without drawing attention. “Why not just send out a beacon to alert everyone to our exact location?”

Helion frowns, glancing at Rhys who, surprisingly, just shrugs. The High Lord of Day sighs dramatically. “Fine,” he cedes, dimming his light slightly. “Happy, little Lord?”

“Ecstatic,” he deadpans, walking off without another word. The rest of you follow suit, going in opposite directions to inspect the border for signs of anything.

You’ve only been walking around for a few minutes alone, trying to feel unique differences in the magic that lingers around you, still fresh. It’s harder than you thought it would be and you’re so frustrated that you let your guard down.

You don’t hear the snap of the twig, but from the corner of your eye, you catch movement and reach for the dagger by your hip instinctively, spinning round toward the source. You swing the dagger out in front of you in a defensive position, just to see that it’s Eris emerging from behind a tree, his amber eyes glinting with amusement.

“Did I startle you?” he drawls, his tone dropping with feigned innocence.

Scowling, you sheathe your blade. “Do you enjoy sneaking around like that? Or do you just have an unhealthy desire to annoy me?”

Eris raises his eyebrows and his smirk deepens like you’ve just said something extremely entertaining. “Well, it’s a talent really, but what was that about desire? Because, that-”

“Stop,” you sigh, wanting nothing less than to hear out the rest of that sentence. “Just… go away and let me focus on this magic.”

You turn away from him and shut your eyes in concentration, but it doesn’t work as you dont hear him move. Knowing Eris is standing there watching you is doing nothing to help, and you’re about to say so when he speaks first.

“How do you know it’s not just mine or Helion’s magic you’re sensing?” he asks, seemingly serious. You frown at him, thinking he’s joking.

“Well, I have met the two of you before,” you reply, injecting your voice with as much sarcasm as possible. “I know what your magic feels like.”

“And?” Eris tilts his head in question. “What does it feel like?”

“Helion’s magic feels bright, awake and fresh and yours feels…” Inviting, warm, strong. You don’t say anything, because you can’t really explain what you sense in his magic as you still don’t fully understand it. Why you’re drawn to it the same way you would be drawn to jumping into a pile of autumn leaves outside your home as a child. You swallow, looking away. “Different.”

It’s not unusual for you to gravitate to certain magical auras, but it’s only ever been towards close friends, family, some select strangers with whom you had a kind word, for example.

Thankfully, Eris doesn’t push. Annoyingly, however, he changes the subject. “Have you considered my mother’s invite to come and visit Autumn?”

“Shush!” you hiss at him, shooting a glance over your shoulder to see if any of the Inner Circle are nearby. The last thing you need is for them to overhear your conversation. It would lead to an unbearable series of questions, interrogations and endless teasing.

Eris’ chuckle is soft, taunting. “Why so nervous, darling? Afraid your friends will finally put two and two together and realise how you truly feel about their beloved court?”

The mental image of Rhys being disappointed in you makes you feel physically sick. He took you in, gave you a place to be free and opened up his home to you. All for you to go and feel like you don’t even belong? Your chest tightens and you decide you could never do that to him. You glare at Eris and attempt to keep your voice steady. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” he drops his voice down to a whisper. “Would it really be so bad if your High Lord knew the truth?”

You swallow the rising panic in your body, the fear that he’s going to use your insecurities that only he can sense to his advantage. You close the distance between the two of you and your voice is low and sharp as you speak. “What the hell do you want from me, Eris?”

Eris’ expression falters slightly, like you’ve taken him by surprise for a split second. “What?”

“What could you possibly want from me?” you let out a derisive laugh, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Do you enjoy holding things over me? Because I can’t think of anything I could give you that you don’t already have. So, if you are blackmailing me for something, then I’d prefer if you just came out with it already.”

The words spill out of you with an intensity that you’ve bottled up since you last argued with Eris, but your anger dims slightly when you realise he’s no longer looking amused. Instead, he stares at you with a blank expression and it’s somehow worse than if he were insulting you.

You realise just how close you had gotten to him only when he steps back slowly, as though wanting to draw your attention to the lack of space, snapping you out of whatever furious trance you were in.

A moment passes before he allows himself to give you a faint smirk, but his jaw is clenched and his eyes flicker with something you can’t figure out. “We should get back to your precious High Lord.”

You open your mouth to say… something. You aren’t even sure what there’s left to say, especially since the whole interaction has left you more unsettled than ever. “I-”

“Keep your guard up, Archeron,” he just says, cutting you off before turning around to walk away without sparing you another glance.

tag list: @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @abysshaven @nayaniasworld @rcarbo1 @paleidiot @tenshis-cake @bunnyredgirl

#eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra fanfiction #eris vanserra imagines #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris fanfic #eris acotar #Eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n

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ramhaiba · 8 months ago

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𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

SNEAK PEEK

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT a/n: this fic is a lot darker than normal of my work contains: noncon sexual themes, manhandling, breaking up, biting, oral (f receiving), baby trapping, modern au

The truth is, you should have broken up with Satoru Gojo a long time ago. Two years ago, the thought of even considering taking a break from Satoru would have sent you into a coma. Why wouldn’t you want to be known as ‘Satoru's girl?’ Being with a guy like him would cause no one to dare look at you in the wrong way.

Besides, he buys you things that cost more than your rent, and will refuse if you dare to give it back to him because you ‘don’t need such expensive things.’

So what exactly is wrong with dating Satoru?

Obsession.

“You’ve been spending so much time with your friends...sometimes I think you forget who your boyfriend is”

“Jealous? Me? Baby, it’s only because I care about you”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, it hurts me. Do you want to hurt me, Y/n?”

“You look great in that dress. But I feel like I should be the only person to see you in it. Why don’t you go change so you don’t embarrass me”

And the list goes on and on...and on…

If it wasn’t his words that would send you to this point, his constant touching, rubbing, groping, and kissing in public just to scare any guy in your five-mile radius away was something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

The final straw is when you heard furious knocking on your door, knocking so loud that you could have sworn that whoever was behind it would just kick it down, surprised that you could hear it with the storm outside. Unlucky for you, you were middle of a shower, not expecting to be bothered in the middle of the night. You were forced to wrap a towel around your torso, covering your chest to your upper thighs, and rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You slowly open the door for your boyfriend, his chest heaving as the rain pours down on his white hair.

“Satoru- wh-what’s wrong.” you stuttered, clenching the towel wrapped around your body.

“Bastard ” he muttered, stepping inside, letting his wet footprints stain your floors.

“What? Satoru, why are you even here- it’s late” you questioned, in disbelief.

“Tell me-tell me that he didn’t fuck you, Y/n. Please” Satoru begged, his hands gripping your shoulder as he forced you to the wall, blue eyes without a trace of sanity.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about “ you yelped, unaware of what put your boyfriend into such a manic episode.

“Is he still in the house? Huh? He is right?” Satoru started laughing, his head leaning into the crook of your neck,

God- at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he bit your neck off.

“Satoru, you’re starting to scare me. Please just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you” you responded, trying to caress his face, only for him to pin your hands above your head.

“Nanami, you’re fucking him, right? Suguru saw bring you to your house. Holding hands or some shit. Looking too friendly” Satoru hissed, just the thought of you being touched by hands that didn’t belong to him sent waves of fury into him.

You didn’t even question why Suguru was watching you when he had no reason to be in your area-

Thinking back at it, you wondered if Satoru begged asked Suguru to watch you while he was too busy to do it himself.

“Nanami only came over because I asked him to help fix my door” you answered.

“Then what? You rode his dick as a reward?”

“Satoru, I would never” you argued.

“Then show me… Prove to me that you’d never betray me” he erupted, clicking his tongue

“Please” he added.

That’s when Satoru stepped away from you, knowing what you have to do, your hands shakily let the white towel around your chest slip off, falling onto the floor, using your forearms to cover your breast and pelvis. You turned your head to the side, finding it unbearable to watch his degrading facial expression as he examined every inch of your body, tears of embarrassment threatening to spill out of your eyes.

“What’s this,” Satoru asked, eyes hooded, his fingers prying your thighs apart, tracing over a faded bite mark.

“It’s from you, remember” you answered, voice cracking. Suddenly, you felt Satoru’s hands pull your face towards his, blue eyes locking with yours, refusing to let you look away, “want to bet on it?” he questioned.

You watched hopelessly as Satoru’s lips trailed down your chest to your inner thigh, his knees on the ground, stopping at the bite mark, his pupils dilating as he took a good look at it, before sinking his teeth right into it, causing you to yelp, tugging on his white hair, silently begging him to stop. And when he finally did, he pressed a wicked kiss on it, pulling back to analyze it,

“I knew it”

He smiled as he looked up at you from between your legs, pressing his chin on your thigh, “It’s a perfect match on my teeth, I knew you’d never cheat on me baby” he smiled. His hands rubbed your waist as your tears fell from your eyes, heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline.

Satoru didn’t mind you were crying, in fact, he thought you were always at your prettiest when crystal-clear salty tears dripped down your heated cheeks, eyelashes damp.

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#yandere x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jjk #gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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tearsofastraeax · 1 month ago

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naughty | könig x f!reader

you're on krampus' naughty list and it's time to collect the dept

cw: 18+, krampus au, monster!könig, kidnapping, spanking, cunnilingus, dub-con (maybe non-con but krampus!könig is a hottie so also not really)

'twas the night before st nicholas day, the streets were filled with warm lights illuminating the snow-covered little village you were staying in. it was so peaceful and quiet. large mountains erupted in the distance, the stars dancing in the night sky. your breath slowly eased out as you buried deeper into your bed, staring out at the landscape outside of the window, your eyelids growing heavy, and eventually you drifted off to sleep.

soft images of giant horned creatures drifted through your dreams, the warmth of torches, breathless screams and little giggles of children filling your ears. it was the first time you had ever experienced this strange folklore tradition. but the krampus parades in austria were one of your main goals of this trip, so you were buzzing with excitement when you had finally been able to experience one.

clearly this excitement ebbed over into your dream, because you could have sworn it felt a little too real, like the soft cedar smell washing over you, or the icy cold drifting over your exposed skin. and even -

suddenly your eyes shot open as your body was jostled about, your lifeless body slung over someone’s shoulder and moving back and forth with the rhythm of their steps.

your whole body tensed up, your eyes frantically looking around you, trying to gauge your surroundings. but your heart immediately dropped at the sight of nothing but snowy, dark landscapes around you, the lights of the village miles away. even worse, panic set in when you looked at the man... or creature? that had slung you over his shoulder. it was wrapped up in furs and when you bend your neck to look toward his head you could see two gigantic horns coming out of it. what the hell was going on? were you still dreaming? oh please, you must still be dreaming. because this looked an awful lot like the krampuses you saw at the march around town, only those were costumes.

panic squeezed your lungs, your heart beating faster and faster, with every step the beast underneath you took, it led you further into the dark, further and further away from the warm and cozy lights of the little village.

your brain worked in overtime trying to figure out how to get out of this situation and what the hell was even happening? was this supposed to be a joke to scare the tourists?

you started banging your first on the fur covered back of the giant horned creature. yet nothing but a deep grunt escaped him, the low sound wrapping itself around your cold form, slowly drifting over you and warming your core.

no. no. no. this was not happening.

even though your obsession with monster romances and all that good stuff was a thing you could not deny, it was absolutely fucking ridiculous to get turned on by some insane creature kidnapping you.

instead, or maybe especially to distract from those thoughts, your incessant beating on his back continued, your body squirming on the monster’s shoulder, and your strangled scream twisting through the frozen silence of the snow-covered mountains.

suddenly a hard slap landed on your naked thigh, just below your butt. you couldn’t help the choking scream that escaped your throat. and you definitely couldn’t help the slight tingling in your core from the warm sting that you could still feel on your skin.

at this point the blood was rushing in your ears, and you weren’t prepared when the large form of your kidnapper hoisted you down onto a soft surface in what you recognized as a scarcely lit cave.

the orange light of a crackling bonfire filled the cold cave with gentle warmth. and for the first time you were able to see the creature that abducted you. he was gigantic, larger than any man you had ever seen, his large horns slightly curled towards the back, his long, matted hair fell over his shoulders, his face was covered by a mask, or rather the massive skull of a goat, all you could see were his dark eyes staring back at you. his gigantic body was wrapped in furs, barely hiding the mass of muscles that were contained underneath them.

"w-what do you want from me?", you managed to press out. your voice wavering with nerves.

but instead of answering he just stared at you. his dark eyes bore holes through you, and an uneasy feeling ran through your body. but you couldn't lie, somehow, somewhere, a warmth spread through you, shamelessly spreading to your core and heating up the rest of your body. a light blush creeped over your skin at the feeling of his hard gaze on you.

when he started pulling off the furs covering his upper body you had a hard time to not gape at his sight. you were expecting this human like creature, with his big horns, to be muscular, but this? his pale skin stretched over bulks of inviting valleys and peaks. thick hair covered his body in all the right places, stretching over his chest and trickling into his waistband. your tongue carefully darted out to wet your lips. maybe you shouldn't have done that, because his eyes zeroed in on the movement. his dark gaze coming alive with heat.

"time for punishment, engel", his gruff voice shook you to your core.

he bent down over you, your scarcely clothed body pressing further into the furs beneath you.

"please.. don't."

your plea didn't even get a response, as he gripped your ankle with his gigantic hand and pulled you closer to him. your chest now barely inches from his naked one. his cedarwood scent washed over you, extending the blush on your skin to a deep crimson. you could feel the heat emitting off his body and now you couldn't deny the wetness gathering between your thighs anymore.

were you really this desperate? this touch-starved to accept this monster to take you?

his hands roamed over your flesh and made quick work of your skimpy little pyjama set, which ended up in shreds somewhere on the floor of the cave. the moment he took in your fully naked form was breathtaking, the hunger in his gaze dizzying.

"you're könig's little bad girl, aren't you? and bad girls need to be punished."

könig? was that his name, you wondered. but you barely had time to ponder about it, nor the rest of what he had said, before the creature slid off his pants and loomed above you in his wonderfully naked form. his cock eagerly swaying with his movements, the tip a violent shade of red, and the size - my god - the size of him made your mouth water and your legs tremble at the sight of him.

truly you were at a loss for words, even if you wanted to, you didn't know what to say or do to get out from underneath this gloriously naked monster, but you weren't really sure if you even wanted to.

without a second more to spare, könig lowered himself onto his knees, spreading your thighs apart and positioning himself in between them. his hands slowly ran over your hot skin, from your legs, slowly over your hips right to your breasts, which he roughly took into his large palms and gave a tight squeeze. a breathless moan escaped you in return, which made an evil twinkle flicker in the creature's eyes.

he pinched your nipples between his thick thumbs and index fingers, making you squirm beneath him. and cruelly enough he squeezed them so hard you gasped, a lone tear sliding down your cheek, as the fire in your core was threatening to consume you.

the look on his half-covered face could be nothing else than contentment, this fucker was enjoying punishing you, for whatever insane reason he thought you deserved it.

and punishing he did. one of his hands continued to twist and pull on your sensitive nipples, the other ripping off the skull that had covered face and for the first time you could take in your kidnapper fully. he was beautiful, so rough and scarred, but so incredibly beautiful that your heart missed a beat. his magnetic eyes were given even more expression by the heavy set of brows above them, his cheekbones and jawline so sharp and masculine, your mouth started to water.

you were getting so lost in him you barely realized when his wonderfully biteable lips started to drag open mouthed kisses down your stomach, along the inside of your thighs and finally oh so teasingly around your wet core. his intense eyes looked deep into yours, his face was just a breath away from your clitoris, his warm exhales teasing you and making you lose your mind.

"you're enjoying this, aren't you, kleiner engel? but this was supposed to be a punishment."

his deep voice felt like it revibrated through you, teasing your aching cunt. thankfully he didn't wait too long before his mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking hard on it and biting down. a desperately deep moan entangled with a gut-wrenching scream escaped your lips. you weren't sure if you'd survive the punishment, especially if this was just the beginning.

könig started to unabashedly lap up your juices, his tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit over and over again. his pace punishingly slow, until you could barely take it anymore, your desperate pleas and moans filling the silence of the cave around you. then he slowly dragged a thick finger around your entrance, collecting your wetness there and before you knew it, he was pumping his finger into you, curling inside you and starting an unrelentless pace.

you were desperate to hold onto something, your hands finding his thick horns, grabbing them like your life depended on it. and you were nearly too ashamed to admit, but holding him like this felt good, with his head between your legs, you started to move in unison with his rhythm, fucking yourself on his face and finger. and it seemed like he liked it, because you could see a mischievous grin on his features, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you. and you liked it too, so much so, that the heat in your belly felt like it consumed you whole, the tingling and sparks spreading out into every single little corner of your body. your toes curling, your body jerking away from his passionate assault, but his gruff hands held onto you roughly. there was nowhere to go. you closed your eyes, seeing stars behind them. you came with a violent shake of your body, a desperate moan escaping you, his name on your lips.

slowly but surely, you got pulled back to reality when a sudden hard smack on your inner thigh made your eyes fly open. your gaze immediately landing on the giant monster between your legs.

"i'm not done with you yet, engel." his smile spread his lips apart and showed off his teeth in such a grotesquely beautiful way. your juices were spread all over his chin and shining in the low lightning of the bonfire.

for a brief second a thought ran through your mind; would you ever escape this cave alive? would you even want to?

#krampus au #monster!könig #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig cod #✧･ﾟ⊹ astra writes 📖

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reidsglasscs · 10 months ago

Text

A HARD TIME ADJUSTING

✸ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

✸ synopsis: you’ve had a terrible day. life is terrible, the world is shit, but at least your boyfriend’s cute

✸ warnings: established relationship, reader is overwhelmed & stressed

✸ a/n: this is totally not self indulgent whaaaaat… i’ve been thinking abt this for days actually, like u don’t understand-

Words could not describe how totally and utterly terrible your day had gone. You were still adjusting to college life at NRU, and it was easy to say that it had hit you like a bullet train.

Assignments due and unfinished, a headache, a list a mile long of responsibilities to tend to, and about twenty unanswered messages and calls from your friends. You felt bad for ignoring everyone important to you, but the stress was all too much that you couldn’t even bother typing out a couple of texts.

You sat with a book open on your lap in your bed, but you hadn’t looked at it in about ten minutes, having decided that staring a hole into your wall was much more appealing of an activity.

Just when you thought you might either go nuts or fall asleep, a knock came to your door.

When you didn’t answer out of fear it was somebody coming to remind you of yet another thing you’d forgotten, a voice called through the door, “Yn?”

Not just any voice though, your favorite voice.

You neglected your book and crossed your small dorm to the door in practically two big steps, throwing the door open to be met with your boyfriend’s beautiful face. Beautiful and thoroughly confused, but you were pretty used to that.

“Hey, did you— are you okay?”

That was it, that was your breaking point.

He looked at you with those big, concerned eyes and a little frown drawn on by his worry for your wellbeing ,and the tightrope full of things you’d been balancing came tumbling down into the chasm that was you.

You made some noise that might’ve been interpreted as a no and threw yourself at Percy.

He rocked back from the impact of the hug but returned it readily, encircling your waist with his arms as yours latched themselves around his neck.

You stood there in silence for a while, hugging him so tightly but never tight enough, wishing that you could just crawl underneath his shirt and stay attached to him forever.

“Babydoll,” he whispered into your hair after a while. “are we just gonna stand in the doorway all night?”

You shook your head and without missing a beat, he hoisted you up into his arms.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and face burrowed further into the crook of his neck as Percy hooked his hands under your legs.

He kicked the door closed with one foot and then walked over to your bed, sitting down on the plush mattress, avoidant of your discarded textbook.

With you now in his lap, clinging onto him like some kind of koala bear, Percy murmured in a soft voice,

“You wanna talk now or later?”

“Later,” you answered, accompanied by a quiet sniffle.

Percy understood, he always understood.

There was no more talking after that, because he knew that when life was like this, sometimes it was just better to be comforted in silence and without the pressure of putting it all into words.

He tightened his arms around you, if it was even possible and rubbed a soothing hand in circles on your back.

You pressed a couple kisses of thanks to the bare skin of his neck, and Percy returned the favor by peppering kisses of his own across your shoulder.

The next day when your friends would ask about it, you’d just tell them it was a bad day.

Because that’s what it was: a bad day, not a bad life, and sweet Percy was proof of that.

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson thoughts #pjo x reader #pjo x you

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chleem · 3 months ago

Text

Not a big deal pt3

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament.

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ bit long but enjoy! | p2 | index | p4

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

4 years later

“Drew, Drew Starkey.”

The waiter checks his name off the list, and gestures inside, “follow me then, Mr Starkey.”

Drew follows the waiter in, looking around the place. Hawks rented the entire restaurant for the night, just like every year, to celebrate the new season. It's his third season with Hawks, so he knew the procedures well enough now.

Tonight will just be free food, bonding with teammates, etc. Could you say he was looking forward to it? No. He would much rather stay home, especially this year.

Why especially this year? Because of his new teammate, Luke.

It wasn’t hatred or anything; in fact, they had amazing chemistry on the court. Communicating through nods or glances, as if they’ve known each other for forever. Really, the coach was shocked at how good they did during preseason; he’s now convinced there’s a chance of winning.

Luke seems to have matured, anger issues not the same as before and actually willing to listen to advice. He was friendly towards Drew, and overall, did not look so bothered about losing the championship during college anymore.

It was Drew who felt uncomfortable around him. Why? Well, he fucked his virgin sister, who was 18 at the time. Worse, whenever Drew stares at Luke for too long, he sees your face. Your eyes, nose, lips, everything.

“Nice suit, man,” one of Drew’s teammates and best friend, Jay, compliments him, as the two approach each other first. Every year it was required to wear formal for this occasion, since high executives would be here to celebrate too. Drew, has worn the same black suit for the third time now.

“Yeah, same with you,” Drew smiles, the two of them engaging in a small hug. “Um, are we seated together?”

“Yeah, over there,” Jay points over to a table near the window. Each table had a maximum of six people, and already two of their teammates were there. “Man, we should some drinks first.”

“No need to remind me,” Drew replies, as the two of them head to the bar area. The goal is to get drunk enough so that the executive's’ speeches would sound interesting, but sober enough to make basic human interactions.

“So, you came alone this year too?” Jay asks, ordering a whiskey, which Drew also signals for.

Drew smiles sourly, his friend reminding him about his single status again. Plenty of hookups throughout the years, but never a proper girlfriend due to his busy schedule. “Y’know me. Too busy for that shit.”

Jay nods, as the whiskeys are presented in front of them. Drew immediately downs his, while Jay just takes a small sip. “Well, I’m seeing someone, if you’re wondering.”

“No shit,” Drew laughs, thinking his friend is kidding. Jay smiles down at his drink, probably thinking about the girl. Oh. He really is seeing someone. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Her name’s Phoebe.”

“…and?”

“Yeah. That’s all I’m telling you.”

Drew shakes his head, ordering another whiskey. So much for being friends. “She has a sister, by the way,” Jay speaks up. Oh. Drew knew where this was going. “She might be the perfect one for you.”

Jay’s setting him up. Again. His friend has failed every single time, and it seems like he wasn’t gonna give up. “Hey man,” Drew pats Jay’s shoulder, pursing his lips. “Just quit, okay? I don’t date. Y’know that.”

“When’s the last time you’ve dated then? Have you ever even had a girlfriend?”

Drew frowns, taking his hand off his friend. “Just, no. Please.”

Drew hears a sigh from beside him, and when his second whiskey arrives, he sips on it slowly. “Fine. I just think, that you would be very happy in a relationship.”

Drew smiles against his cup, finding that statement ridiculous. Society was weird, thinking that if one stays single for too long, it meant that they were…depressed in some way. It was tiring.

“Hey, Luke’s here,” Jay suddenly comments. Drew turns around, scanning the place for Luke.

Sure enough, there he was.

And fucking hell.

His eyes land on you, standing beside Luke.

Was it even you? He wasn’t so sure. From far away, it did look like you.

“We should go greet him,” Jay elbows Drew.

Drew did not want to greet him. He is very comfortable here, right next to the bar.

But Jay urges him, leaving him no choice but to walk over. And until Drew was standing directly in front of Luke, was he sure that it was you.

Fuck.

Four years later, and Drew’s body still has reaction towards seeing you. It brings him back to the first night he laid eyes on you, thinking how innocent & pretty you looked in a crowd of drunk and chaotic college students.

You look…amazing. Drew was pretty sure his eyes were widened to the maximum point right now, his brain trying to process the sight of you. Especially, the red dress you were wearing, that's making his imaginations run wild.

No. He must be dreaming right now. After four years, he sees you again? No, this shit only happens in movies, red-string type shit. Was he getting drunk already?

“Um, Drew, you okay?”

Drew quickly averts his gaze back to Luke, his grip on his glass cup tightening. “Yeah, yeah, um, who’s this?” Does he sound cool right now? Because he wasn’t so sure if he was playing his usual chill self.

Luke wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Meet my sister. Y/n. Y/n, this is Drew and Jay. My teammates.”

Shit. So it is you. The girl that Drew can’t seem to forget, the girl that haunts his wildest fantasies for four years now.

When Drew makes eye contact with you, he expects you to have some sort of reaction. But you don’t. In fact, you just quickly glanced at him, a polite smile on your lips. Do you even remember him? “Nice to meet you,” your voice causes Drew to freeze yet again, his mind going back to that night. Your moans, your laugh, your-

“Dude,” Jay elbows Drew yet again. “Aren’t you going to shake her hand?”

It seems like you already shook Jay’s hand, and it's Drew’s turn now.

He licks his lips embarrassingly, and he shakes your hand. Yep. No doubt it was you. He remembers clearly about the way you scratched his back that night, the tug of your hands in his hair, and your fingertips on his abs-

“Um, kind of need my hand back,” your voice cuts him out of his thoughts.

Oh. He was still holding your hand. He retreats it reluctantly, feeling his ears heat up. Gosh, why is he so flustered right now? He feels the stares of Luke, or more, like glares. “So…where are we seated?” Luke asks.

“Near the window.”

“Great. Um, we’re not late, are we?”

“No one really cares.”

Luke and Jay continue to engage in small talk, whereas Drew just gives up on listening. Not just give up, he literally was unable to engage in anything right now. It feels like he's in a dream.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you, absolutely captivated by you. By this matured, attractive presence you gave off. You were just standing there, trying to appear interested in this small talk.

And a question he kept repeating in his head was: do you remember him, like how he remembers you? Do you still think about him from time to time, like he does about you?

You definitely can feel Drew’s stare, his stare making you feel as if you were under a microscope right now. You turn and meet his eyes, and he panics, yet again.

Your eyes tell nothing, of whether or not you remember him. And the small smile you give him confirms it; you forgot about who he was. Fuck. Now Drew felt like the biggest fool to exist.

“If everyone could get back to their seats! The food will arrive shortly,” the host announces through a loud microphone.

“Let’s go then, I’m starving,” Luke squeezes your shoulders, to get you moving.

“Same,” you look away from Drew, and let Luke guide you over to your table.

Drew immediately gulps the rest of his whiskey down, loosening up his tie. Fuck. This was going to be a long night.

——

Drew wasn’t one to eavesdrop. In fact, he hated eavesdroppers. Why are you listening on someone else’s private conversation?

Well, Drew hates himself very much right now.

You sat near the window, at the very end of the table. Across from you was Drew’s other teammate, Kirk. He sat next to Kirk, and across from Luke. The whole night, it was very obvious that Kirk had a thing for you, asking you questions about your life, hobbies, etc.

So now, Drew knew that you’re currently studying law in college, you hate tomatoes but love ketchup, you like museums, you have a horrible sleep schedule, you want to adopt a cat, you hate the cold-

“You’re single, right?”

That makes Drew choke on his food, causing the table to pause and stare at him. He coughs, feeling his whole face going red. “You okay, dude?” Kirk chuckles, patting Drew’s back, as if it’s any help.

Drew nods, trying to suppress his coughs with the help of water. While drinking, he glances at you, who looks at him with worried eyes. He puts his cup back down, clearing his throat, “so, are you?”

He ignores the skeptical stares from Luke, his eyes only focused on you. Please, please, say yes.

You turn away from Drew, just as Luke suddenly speaks up, changing the topic, “can we get another round of this lobster? Its fucking delicious.”

What? Drew’s gaze stays on you, seeing how you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes glued to your plate. Was it, a violating question? Drew had no idea, but seeing how quickly your mood changes, it leaves a bad scar on him.

——

Huh. you’re staying at the same hotel as him. Well, not just him. The entire team, actually. Luke must have arranged it for you.

Drew stands behind you, hands in pockets, trying to look as if he wasn’t bursting with joy. While waiting for the elevator, you lean on Luke’s shoulder, your body ready to give up.

The elevator opens, and the remaining people all squeeze towards it.

You eventually get squeezed into the corner, with Drew close by. Super close by. With no space at all, Drew is forced to lean into you, his arm against the wall to support him.

This close proximity was driving him insane.

He feels your breast press closely to his lower chest, your face planted really close to his neck. From this proximity, he certainly can smell your perfume, shampoo, everything. He looks down at you; and surprisingly, you were already staring up at him. You send him a lazy smile, your eyes squinted up at him.

Cute. He sends you one too, although his smile might be bigger.

The ding sound is heard, and most of the people inside rush out. Drew was disappointed; he wanted to stay like this for a bit longer.

He gets himself off of you, now that there’s more space in the elevator, leaning against the wall. He wants to look at you (he already stared a lot during dinner though), memorize more of you before he goes to bed, but Luke turns around and faces you. Drew bites his lip, staring into the ceiling. “Told you tonight was fun, right?”

Okay, now Drew needed to eavesdrop.

“The guy in front of me was asking too much.”

Yes. Fireworks went off in Drew’s head. “Yeah, Kirk’s a dick. Don’t, don’t date him,” Luke…jokes? Drew wasn’t sure. “Or, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it,” you chuckle, which makes Drew glance at you. He makes sure to get a quick look of your smile again; fast enough so Luke doesn’t notice.

“Do you at least feel better now?”

“…yeah.”

“…I know you’re lying, y/n,” Luke disappointedly says.

No reply heard from you; the ding of the elevator ending the conversation. Drew looks at the screen; the 18th floor. “Goodnight,” you say to Luke, pushing yourself off the wall. To Drew’s surprise, you wave at him. “Goodnight,” you repeat, the same lazy smile on your face.

“Goodnight,” Drew replies, the smile appearing on its own.

The door closes after you leave, and Drew gets hit with a sad realization; he might never see you again. And he hates that thought.

Four years. After four years, he gets another chance to see you. And he’s just gonna let you walk away? Just like he did the first time?

He gets mad suddenly; remembering the lack of interactions the two of you had the entire night, all stolen by Kirk. Luke’s right, Kirk’s a dick. But also, a lucky bastard. He got to sit directly across from you, as well as talk to you. Lucky son of a bitch.

“Are you… gonna get out?”

Drew snaps out of it, looking up at the elevator screen. 24th floor. Luke is holding the door open for him, wondering why he hasn’t stepped out. “Sorry,” Drew murmurs, walking out. Luke follows him, as the two of them had rooms right next to each other.

“You okay, man?” Luke laughs, walking beside Drew.

“Yeah, just drank a bit much,” Drew shrugs, scratching the side of his face.

Luke gets to his room first, “see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” Drew takes his room card out, pressing it against the door. He gets in without another look at Luke, closing the door behind him.

Huh. So this is how tonight was going to end? Him alone in his hotel room, consumed with the thought of you? (As if he hasn’t been thinking about you for the past four years already) Even Drew was disappointed in himself.

“Fuck,” he curses, still standing in the entrance of his room, running his hands through his hair stressfully. “Fuck.”

——

After knocking on 17 doors, this one might be yours.

Drew stood at the entrance of his room contemplating for ten minutes, whether or not to go see you again. After long chains of thoughts and scenarios, he made up his mind: he’s going to see you.

Problem: he didn’t know your room number. So, he spent almost twenty minutes on the 18th floor, knocking on each door hoping it would be you.

And now, on room 1818. He was mentally & physically tired, but he wasn’t going to give up.

He presses on the doorbell, twice. He waits for a few seconds that felt like minutes, tapping against the wall impatiently. Just as he gets ready to move onto the next room, the door opens.

He looks up, and his eyes widen.

You. You’re as shocked as he is, wondering why someone would knock on your door at such a late hour.

He first notices your slightly wet hair; droplets dripping down your neck. Your makeup is off, and he just finds you even more beautiful than before. His eyes naturally wander down to your body; finding you in a white lingerie dress.

Fuck. His brain is malfunctioning yet again.

“Hello?” He hears you chuckle, which makes him bring his attention back to your face. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, um, Drew. I’m Drew, from earlier, the dinner?”

“…I know. Can I help you?” You ask him yet again, a polite smile on your lips. You quickly glance down at his body; he’s still wearing his suit from earlier. He must’ve not showered yet, despite it being almost two hours after.

“Um,” he awkwardly licks his lips; All the lines he rehearsed back in his room are now gone. Drew realizes that he’s still standing in the hallway, and he didn’t want to talk to you while standing out here. “Can I, can I come in?”

You furrow your eyebrows, your face clearly showing discomfort.

He mentally panics, and hurries to add, “I want to talk to you, and it’s rather private. And, important.”

You think about it for a few seconds, listing out the pros & cons of this man coming into your room. You look into his eyes, seeing a sense of urgency and yearning in them. Okay. Maybe he can come in for a while.

You step out the doorway, opening the door wider. “Sit on the couch, I’ll prepare…tea? Wine?”

“Anything’s fine,” he says, walking in. You close the door behind him, and when he spots your shoes by the door, he takes his off too.

As he makes himself comfortable on the small couch in front of the bed, you grab your cardigan that rests on one of the dining room chairs, putting it on.

You open the hotel fridge; finding red wine in there. Opening the cupboard, you reach for two glass bottles, and walk towards Drew. He’s taken his suit jacket off, his tie hanging loosely by his neck, his sleeves rolled up. And he’s manspreading, a position you find to be very hot.

You have to admit; Drew was attractive. Even more attractive than your ex. Actually, the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. And, he’s got a charming personality to match it.

But he’s oddly familiar. During the dinner, your gaze can’t help but always drift over to him. Have you seen him from somewhere? Crazy, you can’t seem to remember where you’ve seen him before. An ad? Tv? Huh.

“So?” You start, sitting beside him. You try opening the bottle, but the cork was screwed on too tight.

Drew takes it from you; his hands brushing yours. You watch him effortlessly get the cork out, the pop heard in the room. He pours it into the two glasses, and sets it down. He sends you a small smile when he notices your stares. “Wine?”

“Well, you said anything’s fine,” your lips curl up on their own, as you reach for your wine glass. He offers to clink against yours; and you do, the two of you maintaining eye contact while sipping. After, you put your drink back down on the small coffee table. “Why a late night talk?”

Drew licks his lips, glancing down at his lap. He seems to have trouble forming words, fidgeting with his fingers. You lean back into the couch, curious as to what he’s thinking about.

After seconds that felt like minutes, he said, “You study law?”

Due to the unexpectedness, you chuckle, “yeah. Why?”

He shrugs, “Suits you.”

What is he even saying? “What?” You giggle, at his response.

You don’t miss the tip of his ears going red; even he thinks his response is funny. “I mean, law sounds fun, and you look like lawyer material.”

“Awesome,” you smile at him, trying to hold back your laughter. “And you look like basketball player material.”

His smile mimics yours; just more awkward.

He seems to not know what to say, despite telling you that he had something to say to you. Weird. So, you help him, by asking, “are you nervous about the new season?”

His eyes light up, “My third season with Hawks now. But, still nervous.”

“Third season?” He nods, and you reach for your wine yet again. “Hawks fan?”

“Always been the dream,” he admits to you, “grew up watching them, and when they offered, I just had to say yes.”

“Or because no other team offered?”

Shit. That sounded wayyy too rude. But that was your humor, and also your way of talking. Does he find it offensive? Wait, anyone would find that offensive. You should apologize-

He laughs lightly, taking a huge gulp of his wine. “Come on. Give me more credit.”

So…he isn’t offended by your words? You shrug, “never seen you play.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you, leaning back on the couch. “You’re lying.”

“Didn’t even know you until tonight.”

“Liar,” his voice drops low, but a smirk is seen on his lips, as if he’s catching you in a lie right now. But you were being honest; you really didn’t know him until tonight.

Unless…maybe there’s a reason why he looked so familiar to you? Ugh, why can’t you remember where you’ve seen him from?

“Really,” you say, looking into his blue eyes.

His eyebrows furrow even deeper, trying to figure out if you were being honest or not. You were. Eventually, he leans forward and pours more wine into his glass. “I believe you,” he murmurs, before sipping on the wine. You watch as he gulps it down; his Adam’s apple moving. “But surely, you’re…a fan of Hawks?”

You shake your head, which makes Drew chuckle. “I…know nothing about basketball.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s my brother’s passion, not mine.”

“Okay,” he adjusts himself on the couch, his body now fully facing you. “Then tell me about law, or stuff like that.”

“‘Stuff like that’?”

“I might bore you if we keep talking about basketball. So, I’ll listen to you.”

“And law isn’t boring to you?”

“Not if you’re talking,” He sends you a warm smile. Woah. Butterflies that you haven’t felt in forever are now forming inside of you. Butterflies that feel different compared to the ones with Zack. “Come on. Tell me. Like, what’s…what new laws have been enforced?”

You laugh; his perception of law is cute. So, that’s exactly what you explain to him, just in simpler terms. His eyes, lips, body tells you that you’ve got his undivided attention; something that makes you smile while talking.

Huh. Weird how this stranger is willing to listen to you yap about laws & everything, as if what you’re saying was as simple was pie. Huh.

——

“Yes! He said that to me!”

“The audacity,” Drew laughs, making you nod even more.

You’re telling him the story of your classmate, who’s also your academic rival. Once he accused you of sleeping with the professor, that it’s the only reason why you’ve got such good grades. Thinking about it now, it just sounds funny. “It wasn’t true but he was so sure,” you laugh, recalling his red face while confronting you.

“He’s a fucking loser,” Drew continues to add, reaching to pour more wine into your glass. The two of you realize that it’s now empty, and you just shrug at him; not really bothered by it.

You take the chance to glance at the clock; it was two a.m already. The two of you have been talking for more than an hour. You suddenly remembered that Luke told you about an early schedule the team had tomorrow, yet Drew was still sitting here, getting tipsy with you.

“It’s..getting late,” you bring up, pointing at the clock.

Drew turns to it, and his eyes widen. But he turns back to you, shrugging. “I guess?”

Is he not getting what you’re hinting at? So, you just tell him, “Luke told me you guys are doing something early tomorrow.”

Drew stares into your eyes, in a way that gets you nervous. But then he looks away, and nods, biting down on his lip. “Um, yeah, totally forgot.”

You smile politely at him, even though deep down you didn’t want him to go. You liked his company, and although it was mostly you talking, he didn't make you feel bad for it. Drew’s…very comforting.

He grabs his suit jacket, the both of you getting up. “Now I can confidently say, that I know y/n.”

“What?” You smile, wondering what he was saying. You watch as he walks to the doorway, putting his shoes on.

When he’s done, he opens the door, turning back to you. “A very successful lawyer, that handles cases for the president or something.”

You laugh; that only happens in your dreams. You lean against the doorway, staring into his eyes. You really didn’t want him to go.

He leans towards you; giving you a hug. His arms wrap around your shoulders, and you hug his waist. Your nose is now filled with the smell of Drew; just like in the elevator earlier, a mix of cologne & alcohol.

Drew slightly pulls away, just so he could look at you. You do the same, staring up into his eyes, then his lips, then back to his eyes.

He also glances down at your lips, his eyes squinted.

Then, he kisses your cheek.

Then, you stand on your toes, planting a light kiss on his cheek too.

Then, he kisses the corner of your lips.

Then, you kiss his jawline.

You look into his eyes, giving him a smitten smile.

And just like that, Drew couldn’t hold back anymore; he kisses you. The kiss is hungry, passionate, intense, and…

And way too nostalgic for your liking.

Wait. Wait.

You pull away from him, feeling a bit overstimulated. Not just from the kiss itself, but…but because of what it reminds you of.

No fucking way.

It’s all coming back to you now; this was Drew. The Drew.

The one you lost you virginity to, the one that didn’t want you.

Wait. Was this even the right Drew? He looks pretty similar to the one you remember, talks similarly, and strangely, also kisses the same.

“Is something wrong?” His deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

Fuck. No. No, it’s not the same Drew. Because, what are the chances of this being the same Drew that took your virginity? Awfully poetic, if this happens to be the same person. Maybe, Drew is somewhere in West Carolina, coaching for some basketball team. And this Drew, was just some doppelgänger.

Okay. Yeah, this, this is just a coincidence. You’re just feeling weird because you broke up with Zack a few days ago. Not a big deal. Just, enjoy having this one-night stand with this attractive man.

You smile, shaking your head. “Just kiss me already,” you murmur, leaning into him. You kiss him lustfully, and he returns it, his hands touching all over you.

He backs you up into the room again, all while his lips are on you. You giggle at his urgency, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Don’t you have to get up early?” You giggle, pulling away.

“I think…it’s not that important,” he throws his suit jacket on the couch, kicks his shoes off, and kisses you again. He kisses you as though it might be the last time he does.

You pull away, just to push him onto the bed. His head lands on the pillows, and he readjusts himself so his back’s against the headboard. He puts his arms behind his head; and suddenly, you’re hit with the same nostalgic feeling.

But you ignore that feeling; it’s in the past now.

He gives you a lazy smirk, as you hover over him, straddling his waist. You can feel his erected cock pressing against your folds. Fuck.

You lean down and kiss him, a euphoric feeling that you might never get over. Your hands are busy; undoing all his buttons in a messy order. He helps you; slightly sitting up and throwing the shirt to the side.

Wow. His body? Sculptured by god himself. “Damn,” you voice out, the words just slipping out. Maybe mostly because of how tipsy you were.

He kisses your collarbone, murmuring, “damn?” There’s a slight chuckle and tease to that, which just makes you smile. Your hands go up to his face, cupping it and forcing him up to stare at you. His eyes…most mesmerizing shade of blue.

Again, you ignore the nostalgic feeling, that similar look in his eyes that the Drew gave you, four years ago. The similarity is uncanny.

“Such pretty eyes…” he murmurs, sharing the same thoughts you have.

His hands slide your cardigan off, discarding it somewhere else. His eyes go down to your neck, leaning forward and sucking on it.

Your head leans back in pleasure; his tongue was skilled, you had to admit. He sucks, bites, licks the area, his hands kneading your breasts through the thin material of the lingerie. His lips are warm and soft, compared to the necklace on you. You shamelessly moan out how good it felt; which just drives him crazier.

Drew’s lips slip lower, sucking on your nipples through the fabric.

“Shit, Drew…” you moan, your hands slipping down his shoulders, running through his abs, and then to the belt. Your hand brushes his boner; fuck. You want him now, the wetness in your underwear proving it.

He smirks against your skin, before pulling away. He glances down at your hands tugging his belt, “didn’t know you were the impatient kind.”

You roll your eyes, pushing him back down on his back. “Just shut up,” you groan, even though the smile was apparent on your lips. You back yourself off his waist, until you were on your knees between his legs. You undo his belt as if you’ve done it before, tugging his pants down.

Holy fuck. You’re salivating at the sight of his dick, fully up and proud.

You just want to wrap your lips around him, letting him use your mouth to satisfy himself. You palm his length through his boxers, leaning down and planting soft kisses along it.

He knows you want to give him a blowjob. He can see the thirst in your eyes. He wants it too; but he stops you, his hand going to wrap around your wrist. “Fuck,” he groans, as you look up at him between his legs. In his perspective, it was a very hot sight to see. But it won’t be as hot as what he’s about to purpose to you. “You… I, I wanna taste you too.”

You cock your head to the side, slightly confused. “So you don’t want me to suck your-“

“Yes, I do but I wanna eat your pussy too-“

“What, what, are you saying-“

Oh. Oh. “69?” You gasp, a slight curl on the corner of your lips.

His lustful and excited eyes confirm it, “you up for it?”

Your pussy is screaming ‘yes!’ But your brain is hesitant; you’ve never done the 69 before. With Zack, he’s tried missionary, doggy, cowgirl, spooning, etc, but never the 69.

Hell, why not? Sounds interesting, and with Drew, it might feel heavenly.

“Teach me,” you say, sitting up.

His eyes widen; either from your approval or your unknowingness to this position. But seeing how intrigued you were to try this, he smirks, nodding. He adjusts himself on the pillows, “you’re in luck, I’m a great teacher.”

“Really?” You lift your dress over your head, now, only left with your underwear on. Drew licks his lips at the sight of your breasts, and when you glance down to his boxers; you see pre-cum already soaking it up.

“M-hm,” he’s clearly lost in the sight of your nakedness. “Back yourself onto my face.”

The way he says it; just makes you even more horny.

You do just as he says, not before sliding your underwear off. You keep looking over your shoulder; spreading your legs as you plant your pussy on his face. You make sure to not fully sit on him; afraid that your weight might suffocate him.

You feel his hands on two sides of your thighs, gripping it tight and pulling you further down. “Relax, babe,” he coos. “Just, sit on me, I can take it.”

“You sure?”

“More than ever.”

And you sink your ass onto his face; until you can feel the tip of his nose poking your entrance, his hot breathe fanning it. Oh shit. “Look, you’re wet already,” he teases, licking the side of your thighs, very close to your pussy.

You groan at the feeling, but Drew quickly reminds you to stay on task, “Lean forward.”

You do; leaning your upper body down till his dick was right in your face. You hoist your upper body up with your elbows, creating a bit of space for you to suck his dick comfortably. You pull his boxers down; and moan at the sight.

“Ready?” He murmurs against your pussy.

You pull your hair to the side, “m-hm.”

You wrap your lips around his the tip of his dick, at the same time, he starts licking your folds. You moan around him, your mind consumed with the pleasure of him making out with your pussy.

You force yourself further down on his cock, the salty pre-cum taste on your tongue. His tip hits the back of your throat; gag reflexes triggering slightly. He was big, so it was a bit struggling to fit him entirely into your mouth.

“Taking it like a good girl, huh?” He manages to groan out, his breath fanning our pussy.

You just moan against his length; starting to bop your head up and down along it, occasionally sucking or biting. Your hand goes to massage his balls; which causes him to moan loudly. Shit. That motivates you to continue massaging his balls, knowing now that it’s what he likes.

He moans against you, while his tongue keeps thrusting itself into your pussy. Fuck, this all felt…so surreal. Is one even able to feel so much pleasure at once, just through oral sex?

The room is now just the sounds of the two of you, moaning and grunting, the bed slightly shaking.

You feel yourself coming close, as Drew continues to make out with your pussy. “Fuck…I’m close, Drew,” you breathe out, bopping your head slower now.

“I’know,” he murmurs, his tongue going slower too. “Just, continue with that, ‘kay?”

A sudden slap to your ass causes you to moan out of surprise, but also a reminder for you to continue wrapping your lips around his dick.

You do so; but only about half-way. With your orgasm coming close, your mouth was close to giving up. Eventually, you pull your mouth entirely away from Drew, wanting to focus on your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, and just when you get ready to come over his mouth, his tongue stops, and you don’t feel his head nuzzled in your ass anymore. You glance back, curious as to what happened. His grip on your thighs loosens, but still resting there. “Lemme take over, yeah?”

You had no idea what that meant. But, you don’t object to it, nodding your head.

In a second, he lifts you off of him, and gets off from his comfortable position on the bed. “You got a condom?” He asks, standing up.

“In my purse,” you point over to the black bag on the small kitchen counter; the one you brought to dinner.

He gives you a teasing smile, while he walks over to get it. “So you knew you were getting laid tonight.”

Well, you always needed to be prepared, right? You lay yourself on the same spot Drew was just in, warm and smelling just like Drew. You prop yourself up with your elbows; eyes looking at his back as he rummages through your bag. He has a nice ass, by the way. “Couldn’t hurt to have it,” you reply lazily.

He turns around with a condom, ripping it open as he walks back to the bed. You watch as he positions himself between your legs, wrapping the condom around his dick.

He leans forward and kisses you, a very sloppy kiss.

You’re taken by surprise when his fingers enter you; causing you to moan into his mouth. “Fuck,” he curses against your lips, his fingers thrusting in. He adds a third digit, which is close to sending you over the edge.

He stretches you out, while his lips now move to your breasts. You arch your back in pleasure, moans showing him how good it felt.

His fingers pull out, and you watch as he aligns his dick with your entrance. Fuck, no matter how many times you see him, it’ll always shock you with how big he is.

You make eye contact with him, which makes him send you a lazy smile. “You good?” Teasing but also caring is heard in his voice.

“Will…I fit?” you ask unsurely.

He chuckles, placing a small kiss on your jawline. “Don’t worry; you’ll fit. And it’ll feel good.”

You nod, trusting him.

He enters you slowly, making sure you can adjust to his size. You moan when his dick is fully nested inside of you, your hands scratching his back. He leans his forehead gently against yours; the both of you catching your breaths.

He feels you relax under him, and intertwines his fingers with yours. His head pulls away, and for a few seconds, it’s just him staring at your face. You watch as his eyes linger to every spot on your face.

“Hey,” you softly say, which comes out more flirtatious.

“Hey,” he returns the greeting to you, sounding breathless. “You’re pretty.”

That makes you smile, and you pull him back down to kiss him. He kisses back, while thrusting into your core. You moan, even though his thrusts were slow.

“Faster,” you moan.

“Yes ma’am.”

Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. The way his deep voice adds to that line, gets your pussy closer to coming. And a man of his words, he picks up the pace, slamming into you.

The bed shakes even harder now, the moans the two of you produce are shamelessly loud. He trails small kisses along your neck, sucking occasionally.

And as crazy as this thought was; you knew Drew was going to be the best sex you’ve ever had. Might even be better than the night you lost your virginity. He knows all the ways to feel good, to make you feel good.

With each thrust, you feel yourself coming close again. “Shit, Drew. I’m close,” you groan, tightening yourself around his dick.

“I’know babe,” he kisses the corner of your eye. “Cum on my dick; I got you.”

He continues his fast pace, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, until you feel a knot in your stomach go undone.

You cum all over his dick, your body giving up now. Drew helps himself, and you feel him twitch inside of you too. His pacing slows, and you feel warm cum entering his condom.

“…You squirted,” you hear him chuckle, as he rests his head on your shoulder.

Oh shit. How embarrassing. You didn't know you were even capable of squirting. Is Drew grossed out by that? Based on his tone, he might not be, but then again-

“That’s…really fucking hot.”

You feel your cheeks go red just because of his compliment, letting go of his hands. You cover your face out of shyness, “shut up.”

You hear him chuckle again, “really…you’re very hot. And beautiful.”

He holds down on your waist as he slowly pulls out of you. You hear him walking across the room; probably to discard his condom. The warmth of him is gone; but a dip on the side of you tells you that he’s laid down on the bed with you.

This man was unbelievable. First, he shamelessly looks at you during dinner, not engaging in any way with you. Second, he comes into your room in the middle of the night, claiming he’s got ‘important’ stuff to tell you. Third, he listens to long, boring stories about your life. Fourth, he fucks you so good you squirt.

Unbelievable.

You pull your hands away from your face, and you turn to face him. He’s already staring at you, his arms resting behind his head.

The two of you just lay in silence; your eyes dancing all over his facial features. He really does look like the guy you lost your virginity to. Same face, same eyes, nose, lips. The resemblance is…uncanny.

“You…” you want to ask him if he’s Drew. The Drew from four years ago.

But you don’t. For some reason, you just can’t. You can’t bring yourself to ask him.

It was a horrible memory; crying at home for days, just because he rejected you. Crying over a guy that you weren’t even together with. It was a stupid memory, that you kept deep in your heart. Eventually, that memory was pushed to the very back with Zack’s help.

“…we just did 69,” you say instead.

That makes him laugh; sending butterflies to your stomach. “Yeah, we did.”

You’re feeling a bit sleepy now; the tiredness of the sex washing over you. Drew suddenly gets up, and for a moment you think that he’s leaving.

But he wasn’t; simply grabbing some tissues on the coffee table. He spreads your legs, and starts wiping the cum off it. “What a gentleman,” you sarcastically comment, even though you were happy he’s cleaning up after; Zack never does.

“The bare minimum, y/n,” he tells you instead, before getting off the bed again, throwing it away.

Huh. You didn’t know; you’ve ever only been with Zack.

He lays down beside you again, but not before pulling the blanket over you. “Tired?”

“Very,” you murmur, your eyelids feeling heavy. You don’t know why you said it, but you just did, “you can stay here.”

“Wasn’t gonna leave anyways,” he replies back almost instantly.

Warmth spreads throughout you, the comfort of Drew just laying beside you was enough to make you fall asleep.

And you do drift off to sleep, with the last thing on your mind being Drew.

Soon enough, Drew falls asleep too, but not before hugging you closely to him.

-------------------------------

word count: 6.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: damn they freaky (69 after four years...freaky bitches)

anyways, this is the longest chapter i've so far ...but i hope you enjoyed part three (there will be part 4!) ignore any mistakes...got real tired towards the end. i want to thank everyone who reads my work, u don't know but means a lot to me<3 also thanks to the person that also thought of the time skip idea...tysm! so...will y/n and drew open up about the past? and... who's zack👀👀

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #fiction #drew starkey x you #mini series #part 3 #strangers to lovers #fluff #angst #smut

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months ago

Text

Always Time for You

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After you move to Los Angeles to escape an abusive relationship, you meet Deacon Kay and fall in love. When your ex arrives in Los Angeles, you have to tell someone, but don't want to worry Deacon.

Warnings: former abusive relationship, depictions of domestic violence, abuse, angst, fluff and comfort (none of the SWAT men do anything abusive, it's an ex!)

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The trip across the country is long and slow, each day spent holding your bruised cheek out of view and looking over your shoulder. You promise not to let your guard down when you finally reach Los Angeles. Surrounded by high rises and over 4 million people to blend in with, it would be easy to think you’re safe. But you know better.

Your little apartment in a quiet corner miles from downtown is nice, if not lonely. As you create a new life, you’re unbothered by the solitude, too concerned with being safe than having friends.

And then, in a moment, all of it changes.

1 Year Later

“Excuse me,” someone says behind you.

You flinch when a gloved hand raises beside you, then step out of the way and apologize to the officer. He nods once, then joins his team on the other side of the road. The police presence in your neighborhood today is too familiar. The last time you saw this many cops in one place was because you called them, and they barely made it in time.

Another approaching siren pulls you from your memory, and you step back from the curb. Something stops you, a feeling that going home would not be the right choice.

One of the SWAT officers looks at you and points in your direction. You freeze, remembering the officer who asked Well, did you tell him to stop? You provoked him; you shouldn’t do that if you already know what he’s like. When you look up again, two officers are walking toward you. Chewing the inside of your bottom lip, you hope they’ll walk past you.

“Hi, I’m Sergeant Deacon Kay, LAPD SWAT,” the officer who walked past you earlier says. “Do you live around here?”

“I do,” you answer softly.

“Would you mind answering a few questions?” the other officer, whose nametag says Street, asks.

“Sure,” you agree. “If I can.”

Deacon pulls a picture from his pocket, a folded piece of paper that he straightens before asking, “Have you seen this car around here?”

You lean closer, fighting against your memories, and answer, “I saw it last night. It sat across the street with its lights on from around 8 until midnight.”

“What made you notice it?” Street asks.

“The lights,” you explain. “When it turned, they lit up my living room, then didn’t go off.”

“Left around midnight, you said?” Deacon clarifies. You nod, and he points east to ask, “That way?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks for your help.”

They step back, and you ask, “Um, is it safe? Will he be back or is there anything I should be worried about?”

Deacon smiles and assures, “It’s safe. We’re going to get him.”

As he joins Street to return to Black Betty, Street asks, “We don’t know that; we’ve been looking for two days.”

“And we’ll find him today.”

The next night, someone knocks on your door, and you tiptoe across the room to look through the peephole. When you see Sergeant Deacon Kay, you open the door but hold it as you look at him.

“Hi,” he greets. “I just wanted to let you know we caught him.”

You sigh and whisper your gratitude.

“And… I came to ask you out.”

Smiling, you nod, and for once, you don’t think about your last relationship and let yourself hope for something new, something better.

1 Year Later

“Good morning,” you greet as you answer the phone.

“It is now,” Deacon replies. “How are you?”

“I’m better now.”

You open the door to leave for work but stop when you see a package on your doormat. Deacon says something, but the words across the top of the box are familiar, too familiar. You squat to see it better; the We’re back note is split by the box pulling open. You lift the flap with one finger and see a rope curled tightly inside, with two knots to form hand restraints. You jerk backward, falling onto the floor as you scramble from the box. Your phone hits the floor, and Deacon yells as you reach for it.

“Hey,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I’m okay, sorry, I got startled and dropped my phone.”

“Everything okay?” Deacon asks.

“Yes,” you lie. “Everything is fine.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

When you reach your car, a pack of matches is tucked under the windshield wipers, and you throw them into the backseat before slamming the door closed and locking it. Someone is close, and the fear you thought you’d left behind hits you like a train when you realize who it is.

Deacon knocks on your door an hour before your date, but he’s still in his uniform.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins. “I have to work overtime, for- for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll have time to make it up to you, but I will. I promise I will.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “Be safe and call me when you can.”

Deacon leans in, ignorant of how your muscles tense before he touches you. He kisses your cheek, whispers another apology, and leaves. As he drives away, you see a knife tucked behind the plant by your door. Rather than spend the extra time with the door open to look at it, you close and lock it. Your breaths grow heavy as your chest tightens, but you have no proof that he’s nearby. You can’t tell the police, and Deacon will get stressed with overtime, so you have to wait for this to pass on its own.

The following week, almost ten days after the first box arrived, you call in sick to work. Sitting in your living room, you watch the front window. You can see your porch and car. By noon, you haven’t seen anyone. Slowly, you open the door, and there’s a boxing glove on the first step, with what looks like dried blood across where the wearer’s knuckles would be. You feel a pressure building in your eyes and know that the terror you experience will kill you from the inside if you don’t tell someone or do something.

“Where are you?” you whisper brokenly, looking across the street but seeing nothing.

Your car catches your attention, a baseball bat propped against the back door, and a spray-painted X marking your door. You know the paint will draw attention, so you find a sponge and car wash in your storage closet before you hesitate at the door. If he was close enough to do this without being seen, he’s close enough to do something to you.

You set the cleaning supplies down and take your phone from your pocket. Scrolling past Deacon’s contact, you text someone else and then sit by the door, staring out the window as you wait for him to arrive.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Luca asks when he sees your blotchy cheeks and blood on your palms, crescent-shaped marks created by digging your nails into your palm.

“He’s here,” you confide in him, struggling to breathe evenly. “Luca, he’s so close.”

“Who?” Luca asks, taking your wrists and looking into your eyes. “Who is he?”

“My ex, he- he hurt me, Luca, and now he’s here. There’s been knives, matches, rope… he keeps leaving stuff he used to use.”

“Use?” Luca repeats, his voice dropping. “To… to hurt you?”

You nod, then press against his forearms to plead, “You can’t tell Deacon. He’s so stressed with the overtime; I haven’t even talked to him in a week.”

“He needs to know.”

“No, no, Luca, promise that you won’t tell him. I’ll tell you if anything changes or if I actually see him, but I had to tell somebody.”

Luca hesitates, then nods. “Have you seen anything?”

“No,” you admit, dropping your head as a tear rolls over your cheek. “Just the stuff. And the notes… they sound like him, but they don’t look like his handwriting. What am I supposed to do, Luca?”

Luca shakes his head and pulls you into a hug. It’s not the same comfort you can get from Deacon. The realization that you can’t do anything until he’s close enough to see increases your terror to let you finally cry.

Three days after confiding in Luca and thanking him with dinner for cleaning your car, you decide to visit Deacon at the station. You must see him, so you steel your nerves and open the front door. A small pile of weapons and notes is built against your door, and it topples as you step out. You rush to your car and don’t take the time to remove anything from the windshield until you stop at a gas station a block from the station. Shoving the notes, matches, and short length of heavy chain into the trashcan without more than a glance, you hope that Deacon has time to talk. You won’t tell him anything, but you will ask for one of his hugs that make everything better.

As you round your trunk, a truck speeds in behind you. Suddenly, your arms are gripped tightly, and someone pulls you back quickly. Someone else pulls black fabric over your head, and you are shoved into the back of a car before you can think to scream.

“Not a word,” a man says, pushing a cold gun barrel against your ribs.

“We’ll do it,” Deacon offers. “Luca and I can drive by the residence in an unmarked car and bring back a report of what we can see.”

“Do it,” Hicks replies. “Go the long way around, check gas stations and restaurants in the area, too. We need to find her.”

Deacon leads Luca to his unmarked Charger, and Deacon takes the driver’s seat. As they drive toward the suspect’s residence, Deacon stops at a red light beside a gas station.

“Isn’t that your girlfriend’s car?” Luca asks, pointing to a gas pump.

Deacon’s brow furrows as he puts the car into reverse and backs into the station lot. He parks behind your vehicle, and he and Luca walk alongside it, then look over the top at each other.

“I’ll check inside,” Luca offers as Deacon dials your number.

“Thanks,” Deacon replies.

Your phone goes to voicemail, and Deacon looks down in time to see the screen light up in the center console. Luca runs out of the convenience store and calls, “Deac, get in here!”

Deacon runs into the store, and Luca asks the employee to play the security footage again. They watch as three men take you, and Luca takes a shaky breath before he says, “Deacon, there’s something you should know.”

“Time to go home,” one of the men in the car coos.

You stiffen, scared that by home he means they’ll hand you over to your ex. The car lurches to a stop, and you slam into the back of the seat before two sets of hands steady you.

“Well, look who it is.”

Shifting, you try to block out your ex’s voice, but knowing he can see you while you can’t see him makes your heart race and your chest tighten painfully. When he slips his hand under your fabric hood and runs his fingers along your jaw, you jerk backward. The man beside you shoves you forward so your hood can be ripped off.

“Don’t do that again,” your ex demands lowly, holding your jaw tightly.

You look around, hoping to see someone else around who can help you.

“You know the police couldn’t help before.”

“We did what you asked,” the man driving says.

“And? You’ll get paid when I pay you.”

With the distraction, you lean away from your ex. He slides his fingers into your hair when he notices the distance, pulling you forward by the roots. You gasp at the pain, but when you’re shoved out of the car and fall at his feet, suddenly, you’re the same scared girl you were before you ran. There is no escape, and no one knows to look for you.

“Gas pedal is on the right, Street!” Deacon yells from the backseat.

“We’ll get there,” Street promises, remaining patient even as he faces Deacon’s anger and fear. “We need the surprise.”

Deacon’s leg bounces as they approach the tradeoff spot in the note they found from your ex to the men who snatched you at the gas station. Your safety is the priority, but Deacon knows Hondo is worried about what he’ll do to your ex.

“I’m getting her out of there,” Deacon says. “You focus on the criminals stupid enough to email each other with their plans.”

“You got it,” Hondo responds. “Stay liquid.”

As they pull into the parking lot, Street parks by a fence where they can see the black SUV from the gas station and a grey Chevelle beside it. Street exits the driver’s seat in his civilian clothes and waves to the man standing at the back of the SUV.

“Hey, man! I’m trying to get to the road with the stars, uh, Walk of Fame or something? This city is so confusing, can you tell me where to go?” Street calls.

“Yeah,” the man replies, turning so Street can see him. “Away from here.”

Someone groans, and Street says, “Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“Better than you’ll be if you don’t go.”

Street puts his hands up, then smiles. “You’re not very observant.”

Luca and Hondo approach the car from the other side with their guns raised. As they yell commands, three men surrender and move to the side, but your ex remains beside you.

“Step back,” Street demands, moving directly behind him. “These guys have a bet going on how quickly I’ll get impatient today. I’m thinking about letting one of them win. Walk toward my voice.”

“You always were treated like you’re more important than you are,” your ex tells you. “Same cop,” he muses, looking at Luca. “No one wants you.”

“Yep, I’m impatient,” Street decides. He holsters his gun, grabs his collar, and hauls him backward.

As your ex hits the concrete, he begins fighting, so Street drags him across the rocky surface while Deacon rushes to your side. You hear Hondo radioing for backup but focus on Deacon as he kneels beside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod and sit up carefully. Leaning against Deacon, you hug him tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Deacon asks softly, brushing his thumb over a bruise on your jaw.

“You were already working overtime, and honestly… I thought I was going crazy,” you admit. “He was leaving stuff and notes, but I never saw him, so I didn’t know.”

“Babe, I always have time for you,” Deacon assures you. He kisses your forehead and adds, “Especially if you’re in danger.”

“He… I moved to LA because of him,” you whisper. “He hurt me. A lot.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to deal with all of this alone, but you can tell me. Please tell me.”

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. I miss you.”

“I’m done with overtime; I’m coming home with you.”

You don’t argue, giving in to your craving for Deacon’s safety and comfort. He’ll always be with you, have time for you, and love you through everything and with all of your scars.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay fluff #deacon kay #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯#swat fic #swat cbs #swat x reader

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michelle-is-writing · 1 month ago

Text

Stunt Driving, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8k~

3rd person, Spencer x fem!reader

Other than Derek Morgan, Spencer didn't know anyone that could drive so recklessly, yet, still be safe at the same time. That was until Agent (Y/n) (L/n) was hired at the BAU. She was intelligent, but she couldn't compare to that of Spencer's list of achievements. (Y/n) didn't graduate high school at age twelve, nor did she have several masters degrees or Ph.D.'s under her belt. Instead, she slightly leisured and worked hard at the same time. She gained her degrees with good grades while making memories with those around her. One person she grew close to was her father.

Being an auto mechanic who worked at home, (Y/n)'s father got to work on a lot of cars, especially those from the seventies and eighties. Once the cars were fixed, (Y/n)'s dad always took it for a drive with her in the passenger seat, and even though it probably wasn't the best idea, he would teach her how to drive fast - whether it be to have fun (again, probably not the best idea) or get out of a dangerous situation. The things learned by (Y/n) would last her a lifetime and would prove to be necessary in this current moment.

Driving one of the FBI's SUV at ninety miles per hour wasn't something that Spencer imagined himself experiencing today, and as he looked at the beautiful woman in the driver's seat beside him, he didn't exactly know what to think. She seemed so focused on what she was doing, and because of the mileage they were reaching, Spencer was thankful for this. However, there was still that screaming statistic in the back of his mind, shouting, "40% of all accidents are caused by speeding over 75 miles per hour!"

"(Y/n), slow down!" Spencer yelled as she swerved in and out of traffic, the unsub's car merely twenty feet away from their vehicle. Gripping the safety handle above him as hard as he could, Spencer felt like he could have a heart attack any moment now. She was unsafe in her driving because of the speed she was traveling at, yet, she was somehow keeping them safe by her constant reflexes and quick reaction times. "You're going to get us killed!"

"Spencer," (Y/n) said his name, swiftly checking her mirrors before speeding into the next lane, the engine screaming as she did so. Looking over into the driver side window, Spencer could see the unsub constantly checking over his shoulder, his panic only growing once he sees the BAU's vehicle next to his. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" Spencer asked his coworker, her gorgeous (e/c) eyes flashing over to his for a quick second. Despite being in such a tense situation, Spencer couldn't help but be lured in by her eyes as his heart had grown for the woman as soon as she started working in the BAU. Fortunately, (Y/n) felt the same, he just didn't know it.

"I need you to trust me," She repeats her words, gaining an almost groan from Spencer. He was trusting her enough by putting his life in her hands at the wheel, what else did she want?

"You know better than anyone how to calculate an unsub's next move," She reminds him, the unsub speeding up to get ahead of their SUV. "And you and I both know he's going to swerve in front of me at some point and slam on his breaks," she points out, frowning as she yanks the car into the same lane as the unsub. "I need you to tell me when you think that's going to happen."

Determination laced throughout her voice, (Y/n)'s eyes stayed glued on the banged-up car in front of her as the RPMs of their vehicle bounced between its high and low numbers. Not knowing what her full plan was, Spencer questioned himself as to why he quietly nodded at her words, but nonetheless, still turned his head to watch the car in front of them. As facts about the unsub came to mind, Spencer compiled everything into one of his long, drawn out equations before estimating when the murderer would do just as (Y/n) had said.

It was only when he saw the unsub sit closer to the wheel with a tighter grip on it that Spencer felt he was going to change his moves. "Now," Spencer told the woman, watching as she slowed their vehicle down only slightly, but still deliberately. Seconds after the SUV reached 80, the car in front of her slammed on the breaks, causing (Y/n) to smirk as she knew her plan was in full effect.

Quickly swerving into the line beside her, she wastes no time before lining her front wheels up to his back ones and slamming into him, effectively making him begin to slide uncontrollably on the road, the side of his vehicle pinned to the front of their SUV. Spencer watched in panic as the unsub tried to regain control of his car, only to swerve away and into a field. Sitting back against his chair with a sigh, Spencer shut his eyes as he felt the car begin to finally slow down. He'd never done a pit maneuver on anyone before, having only read about it before in books or hearing about it in news cases.

For a second, he let himself relax until he felt the SUV start reversing before swerving in a 180 degree motion, making his eyes shoot back open and see their vehicle now facing the same direction as the unsub. The wheels immediately regained traction against the asphalt before lunging into the dirt and across the grass covered field. The unsub had barely any time to react and drive away as the SUV made contact with the front end, pushing it farther into the field all the while further destroying the car and preventing it from driving anymore.

Now stopped, (Y/n) threw her seatbelt off and dashed out of her seat. Once again, Spencer found himself watching the scene unfold in front of him, his eyes glued to the way (Y/n) held her pistol all the while dragging the unsub out of the vehicle. Surprisingly, the man's arms eventually came up to hold his head, showing he was still alive despite being hit twice.

It's only then that Spencer snapped out of his haze, clambering out of the vehicle behind her as she tugged the injured man onto his stomach. Aside from the man's cries, the sound of sirens began to follow them much to Spencer's delight. They couldn't keep up with the unsub, losing him in traffic due to his speeds, but that wasn't a hard challenge for (Y/n).

Clearly.

It was merely thirty seconds later that the rest of the team joined them, followed by several ambulances and police vehicles that promptly looked over the murderer before taking him away to jail. This left both Spencer and (Y/n) to be checked over despite being alright throughout it all. It took hardly any time for Spencer to be declared fine, leaving him to make sure (Y/n) was okay.

Walking over to her ambulance, he saw an EMS worker finish wrapping up (Y/n)'s slightly bleeding wrist, his steps now a bit more panicked as he came closer to her. "I cut my hand on a piece of glass when handcuffing the guy," (Y/n) quickly explained to the worried man, smiling at him. "I'm okay, Spence, really."

Feeling his heart warm up in response to (Y/n) calling him the nickname she adopted for him, he saw himself sitting next to her and sighing. "Where did you...?" Spencer began, not knowing where to go with his question. Instead of waiting for him to continue, she smirked and finished for him.

"Where did I learn to do that?" She asked for clarification, receiving a nod in response. Still smiling, she happily answered him. "When I was younger, my dad fixed cars, but you already knew that," She explained, Spencer nodding along as she spoke.

"Well, he also liked stunts and he taught me a few things too," she shrugged, "The pit maneuver was nothing, but that j-turn was something else," She explained, the Spencer's ears perking up as she answered his next question without him even saying it.

Her smile slowly died down before she slid a hand over to his resting on the ambulance, albeit a bit cautiously. However, his unchanging expression showed her it was okay, and so, she left her hand on top of his.

"I am sorry if I scared you, Spencer," She apologized, "Not everyone's used to... well, my driving, but I can't help it," They both shared a small laugh at this, staring at each other for a few moments before she spoke up once more. "Still, I hope you don't see me as reckless or immature."

In response to her words, Spencer let out a small laugh before wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her close. Perhaps it was the chaotic experience they just faced, or maybe it was the longing stares and touches they sometimes exchanged, but Spencer didn't know where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from. In fact, the only thing that reassured him of his actions was (Y/n) reciprocating them and nuzzling into his side ever so slightly.

"You didn't scare me," Spencer lied, putting on a genuine smile due to the happiness he felt from the combination of (Y/n)'s touch and words. "To be honest, I thought it was kind of hot," The words left his lips as awkward as they could, followed by a dark blush taking over his porcelain cheeks.

Although, (Y/n) paid no mind to his embarrassment, and instead, she couldn't help but lean up and gently kiss Spencer's soft lips. They were slightly swollen from him biting them in the car out of anxiousness and fright, but (Y/n) didn't care. She was happy just to be kissing the man, and even more elated at the sensation of him kissing back.

A small amount of applause filled the area around them, causing the two to part and look around to see their teammates grinning and clapping their hands.

"I knew it!" JJ yelled, clapping her hands together with an excited smile. "This was going to happen sooner or later,"

Beside JJ was Emily, smiling as well while clapping her on the back. Spencer and (Y/n) then began to stutter to Emily that they wouldn't let this interfere with their work, but the dark-haired woman simply held up a hand in response. "It's okay, I know you two, and I know you'll still be the same excellent workers," The smile she wore grew into that of a smirk, anticipating her next reply. "Just a bit more cuddly... and cute."

Relieved, both (Y/n) and Spencer couldn't help but let out a small sigh simultaneously, causing them to look back at each other with sheepish smiles from being caught. Barely any words had been expressed between the two when it came to their new relationship, but one thing was definite: (Y/n)'s motor-loving heart had become entangled with Spencer's chess-loving one, and he was happy.

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