#these guys do need to end up being friends after all
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The Other Woman
Pt 1
The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true.
Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting.
That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers.
You keep reminding yourself of that.
Satoru needs this.
He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by.
Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do.
So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?
Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.
All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for.
Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?
It can’t be the latter, right?
Because there’s nothing to be worried about.
Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here.
He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm.
You’re the wife.
You’ve got the ring to prove it.
He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other.
There’s nothing to be done.
You can’t interrupt.
Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet.
Eventually, the night draws to its natural end.
People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back.
Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell.
“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”
Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside.
“Did you have a good time?”
He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”
You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him.
So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul.
“Ready to go home?”
Satoru nods.
But he’s looking at a seat in the back.
A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry.
You’re just the woman he did.
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Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.
If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴
💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍
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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.
𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).
𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻
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SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.
The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.
It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.
Why tonight, of all nights?
Why here, of all places?
Why him, of all people?
He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.
She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.
She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.
Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.
She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.
He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.
Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.
Oh, hell no.
Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.
Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.
“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.
Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.
She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.
It makes her stomach twist again.
He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.
It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.
“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”
For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.
Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”
She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”
It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.
Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.
She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.
Against her better judgment, she nods.
“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.
His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.
The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.
Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.
“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.
The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”
The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.
Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”
She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.
They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.
She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.
“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”
Here, as in back home.
“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”
She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”
Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”
She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.
“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”
Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.
She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.
“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”
Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.
He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.
“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.
She shoots him a surprised look.
As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.
“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.
A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”
She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.
He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.
Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”
She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.
“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”
“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”
A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”
“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.
“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”
Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”
His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”
“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”
Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.
His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”
Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”
For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.
“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.
Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.
“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.
“And?”
She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”
Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”
She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”
Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”
“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.
He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”
She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.
“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.
They remain silent after that.
She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.
He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.
Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.
The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.
On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.
The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.
His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.
“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”
She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.
“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”
It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.
“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”
That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.
Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”
Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”
The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.
“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”
Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.
It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.
“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”
Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.
“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”
Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.
“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”
“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”
Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.
“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.
Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”
“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”
For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.
“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.
Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.
“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.
Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.
He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.
Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.
But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.
Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.
“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”
He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.
“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.
The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.
“No touching,” she repeats, determined.
Lando's hands fall at his sides.
Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.
Nights when he wasn’t there.
Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.
“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.
His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.
“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”
Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.
“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”
Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.
Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.
Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.
On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.
She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.
Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.
“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”
Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.
He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.
“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.
She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.
When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.
“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”
She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.
“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”
Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.
“Mhm, Lan…”
“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”
It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.
In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.
It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.
“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.
In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.
She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.
Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.
“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.
Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.
“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.
The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.
Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.
Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.
Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.
His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.
Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.
He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.
“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.
“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.
He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.
Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.
“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.
“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”
Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.
She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.
In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.
“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.
Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.
“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”
“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.
Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.
“God, I've missed you.”
When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.
Lando presses a tender kisses against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.
She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”
“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.
“What do you mean?”
Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.
“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.
“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”
She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”
She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.
He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”
“And how did he do that?”
“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.
“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.
“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”
His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.
Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”
He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”
She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”
The admission makes his chest tighten.
Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”
His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.
She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.
“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”
“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”
Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.
“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.
“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work .”
She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.
Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.
THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.
The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.
Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.
The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.
Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.
“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”
She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his and and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.
“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”
“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.
“Lando…”
“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”
Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.
She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”
Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.
Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.
“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.
“You're so unfair.”
“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.
She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”
His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.
“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.
“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”
“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”
A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.
“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.
Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.
“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.
Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”
His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.
Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.
Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.
Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.
She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”
There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.
She can't.
“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.
Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.
And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.
She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.
But the body remembers.
And the remembering is, oh, so good.
Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.
His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.
Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.
She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.
But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.
“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”
She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.
They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.
Talking can wait.
Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.
“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.
She can't explain it, but she needs it.
“What's wrong?”
She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.
“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.
“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.
Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”
“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.
“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”
Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.
“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.
“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”
“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.
“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”
She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.
“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”
Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.
“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”
She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”
“Promise you,” says Lando.
After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.
Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.
It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.
In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.
“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”
One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.
“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”
Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.
“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”
It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.
“Lando,” she whimpers again.
“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”
She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.
“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”
Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.
“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.
“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me fuck you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”
Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.
“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.
His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.
And that's enough for him to lose it.
“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.
She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.
“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.
She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.
“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”
She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.
Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.
Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.
Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.
Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.
She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.
“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.
She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.
“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”
Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”
Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.
“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”
She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.
“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.
Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”
“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”
She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.
“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.
He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”
His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.
There’s none.
“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”
Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”
She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”
Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.
“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.
“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.
Thank you for reading!
None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
© trashy track tales, 2024
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Enchanted
Male reader x Loossemble's Gowon (playing Ashley).
tags: harvard student gowon, public sex, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, pussy eating.
word count: 8.2k
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Settling in a new state was a pain, especially if you were a college student who had just entered Harvard, no less. But that bar on the outskirts of campus had become your little refuge every weekend after doing your homework.
Not knowing anyone and not having any friends yet had led you to inevitably look for some entertainment on your own. That's how you found that gem: a wide three-story building—one of them underground—made of red brick and adorned with narrow colonial-style windows with pale wooden frames.
From the first moment you walked in there you were enthralled by the faint aroma of old wood and the freshly made coffee. There were spaces for all kinds of activities, mainly bars of course. But there were also tables to eat at, pool tables, dart boards, and even reading spaces with bookshelves where students like you could go to simply relax while doing their stuff.
Despite all these mini-ecosystems designed so that everyone could choose their preferred environment, all the activity was concentrated in the main bar on the second floor, where you spent most of your time and where you were at that very moment, on a cold Saturday at 8 pm.
The night was particularly quiet, lacking the usual crowds that there were at that time. It was probably due to the weather; you understood that many preferred to be in their rooms, warm under their blankets and enjoying their free time in a calm way. But you weren't doing too bad there, sitting on one of the stools in front of the semi-circular bar while drinking a beer and watching a Celtics game, well wrapped up in your windbreaker and winter hat.
There were few people around you, some watching the game as well and others just chatting among themselves at tables in the corners. The floor below, however, was and sounded busier since a birthday was being celebrated, and the drinks were slowly making the chatter blossom. You wouldn't have liked to be there at that moment; mass social events made you anxious, even more so when you had no one to talk to.
In any case, both places were better than being out there in the snow. Your gaze occasionally strayed to the window to look at it. The flakes floated slowly in the air, falling unhurriedly on the roofs and branches of the trees. It was late November, and the snowfall had only just begun, so there was still a while until Massachusetts looked like the North Pole itself. For now, however, it was nice.
But it wasn't all Christmas fantasy and candy and happiness. Unfortunately, final exam season was approaching since the end of the semester was in mid-December, and that meant doubling the effort and stress in equal measure. You were taking it easy, since you had practically every subject under control except for Molecular Genetics, but of course you wouldn't get too confident. In fact, you were enjoying that moment of relaxation since you would have to spend the whole next day studying without a break.
You had to admit that everything would have been easier if you belonged to one of the common study groups that were formed for these situations, but being a new student, you sadly had to settle for what little you had. That is, yourself. At least for now. Because you wished with all your heart that the situation would change soon.
Who was going to say that it would. Maybe not in the way you expected.
"Nah but I swear to god bruh, JT is kinda dumb sometimes," said the bartender, Jordan, while cleaning a glass. He was one of the ones watching the game with you.
"I mean, at least he tries," you said. "But in this game he needs to stop taking the shots."
"Oh god bro, they put me in the game and I'm making more threes than him."
While you, Jordan and two other guys were commenting on the game, another person sat down in the empty chair to your right. You didn't pay attention, as just like you, the person also started watching the game until the end of that quarter.
"Damn sorry Ash, I didn't see you, hi," Jordan said to the person who had sat next to you. "What are you doing here today?"
You turned to see this Ash person, not knowing that you were going to be completely dazzled by what your eyes were going to see. She was an Asian girl, with beautiful dark brown hair, pretty full cheeks and small bright eyes. You searched through your memories to see if you had seen her before, but it was unlikely that you had seen a girl that pretty and not remember her face. But she was really fucking adorable, wearing a blue jacket that looked like it was going to eat her up because of how petite she was.
"Hi Jordan," the girl replied, her lips slightly curved into a smile. "I was at the birthday party down there but well, I got overstimulated and my social battery got drained."
You didn't want to seem like a weirdo, so before she noticed, you looked away from her and acted nonchalant as you watched the commercials.
"Oh I can understand why," Jordan said, leaning his fists on the bar. "Those motherfuckers are loud as fuck. Same as always?"
"Nah, pour me something mild this time, I have to study tomorrow and I don't want a headache," Ash replied.
Jordan let out a laugh and stepped away from the bar.
"Him too," he pointed his index finger at you before turning his back to you. "And he's on his fourth beer."
You were flabbergasted. He definitely hadn't done that shit. You were forced to look at the girl and him with an embarrassed chuckle, shrugging.
“Oh, you’re a Harvard student too?” Ash asked, turning to look at you. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“I am,” you nodded. “And I haven’t seen you either. What faculty are you in?"
"Data Science, and you?"
"Biomedicine," you replied.
"Cool!" She raised her eyebrows, and turned her body towards you to give you her full attention. "So how's that going?"
You sighed and took a sip of your beer, which was almost empty.
"I'm a new student," you set the glass down on the bar. "So I'll know after this semester."
"Oh, new student huh?" she raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's been the hardest thing so far."
Jordan then came back to you and gave her a glass as well, from the color and bubbles you guessed it was vodka and lemon soda. You hoped it was more one thing than the other, because if not, there was absolutely nothing mild about that drink.
"Don't even remind me," you said with a sigh, as she drank from her glass. "It's been a shitty three months."
"Why?" she cocked her head. "I mean, I really don't mean to be nosy, but Harvard always does a good job of integrating new students with the others."
"Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that people will like you," you then locked eyes with Jordan, who you motioned for another beer.
"But you don't seem like a bad guy, why wouldn't people like you?"
You shrugged, taking the freshly opened bottle of beer that Jordan had given you.
"I don't know, I think it's because I look at everyone like I want to kick their butts."
She giggled, and it was so adorable that you couldn't help but smile too.
"And you want to do that?" she asked.
"Sometimes," you brought the beer close to your mouth. "With some pampered jerks." You drank.
"Ah yeah, there are plenty of those here. I'm Ashley, by the way," she extended her hand towards you.
"I'm Mason," you accepted her hand and shook it with a small smile. "And you're one of the few people I've told my name to."
The last quarter of the game had already started, but it was impossible for you to pay attention to it, because you and Ashley were engaged in a conversation that flowed like the flow of a river downhill.
She told you interesting things about her life, like for example that she no longer lived on campus and had her own apartment not far from the bar. She also told you that she lived for a few years in South Korea with her mother, and that she had returned to the United States exclusively to study her degree. You didn't have too many things in common, contrary to what usually happens in romantic movies, but you could tell that chemistry arose between the two of you. She listened to you happily while you talked about your interests and hobbies, and you listened to her too. You laughed, and a lot, which seemed unreal to you since you had counted the times you had laughed with someone since you arrived at that place.
And damn, she was so, so pretty when she laughed that it made your inner self giggle and kick. Everything about her was adorable: her voice, the way she expressed herself, her smile, her hair, and even something as silly as the way she arched her eyebrows when you told her something slightly crazy.
Calling it love at first sight was downright stupid, because you were sure that to her you were just a friendly guy to have a nice chat with, but you were smitten. It was perhaps hasty to feel that way, but you couldn't just ignore that she, apart from being beautiful, was the first person your age that you had talked to for more than half an hour without feeling like you were bothering her.
And considering your situation, well, that was quite a lot.
"I swear to god!" you said, telling her about a time you had to chase your dog for almost two streets. "If it wasn't for..."
"Ashley?" a female voice said, coming from the stairs.
You and Ashley turned around. At the bottom of the stairs were two girls, both tipsy looking. One of them walked towards you.
"We thought you had gone home!" she said, standing next to you. "You coming? We're gonna continue the party at Riley's. place"
"Oh, sure," Ashley looked at you for a moment and then back at her. "Can you wait for me downstairs? I want to say goodbye to Mason."
"Who the fuck is Mason?"
You just held up your hand with an awkward smile.
"My pleasure," you said.
"Oh, my pleasure too," she nodded and then looked at Ashley. "Hurry up then, we're about to leave!"
"Yeah yeah go Vivian," Ashley dismissed her with a carefree wave of her hand.
Vivian turned around and walked with the other girl back down to the first floor. Ashley then looked at you.
"Sorry about that, I would have loved to hear more of that story," she said with a giggle.
"Don't worry," you shook your head and looked at your watch. "I'm actually running late too, I don't want to sleep that late."
"Oh, come on then?" she asked, standing up while pointing to the stairs. "We can give you a ride to campus if you want."
"Nah no need," you said with a chuckle. "I'll finish this beer and walk, but thanks."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah yeah," you nodded. "Worse distances I've walked."
"Alright!" she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she took steps backwards. "It was nice meeting you, Mason, really."
"Same here. Will you be back here next weekend?"
"Mmm maybe, maybe not," she shrugged. "I don't know, it all depends on my schedule."
"I understand," you nodded. "Well, I'm here every Saturday after 6."
"Good to know," she nodded with a smile. "See you later!"
She turned to walk back down the stairs, but you couldn't just let her leave like that. Who knew when you'd see her again?
"Hey, Ashley!" you called out to her, and she stopped with one foot on the first step.
"Huh?"
"Uhm... I don't mean to be intrusive, but can I have your number?"
Ashley chuckled, and you thought you'd made a fool of yourself and she'd leave, but instead she walked back up and walked towards you.
"I don't give my number to just anyone," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "But we can follow each other on Instagram."
Well, a start was a start.
"Yeah I'm cool with that!"
Ashley showed you her Instagram, and you quickly went to yours to follow her. She then followed you back.
"There ya go!" she put her phone back away, and walked backwards towards the stairs. "Well, now I really have to go, my friends are going to kill me."
"Absolutely. Take care, okay?"
"You too!" Ashley said, then turned around and walked down the stairs.
"Uhm... I don't want to be intrusive, but can I have your number?" you heard Jordan scoff behind you, followed by a laugh. "Oh my god."
You sighed and turned back to the bar.
"Shut up bro," you said, and took a long drink of your beer.
After finishing that beer you finally asked for the bill and paid before leaving. The snowfall had gotten worse outside, so you spent the whole way back to campus with your head down and your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker, but most of all, thinking about her.
You couldn't help but feel like a complete idiot. She was a girl you had just met and she already had butterflies in your stomach. But how could she not? Every time you remembered her smiling it was like seeing a cute picture of Kirby, she even sounded like him when she laughed. She was unpleasantly cute.
When you got to your dorm the first thing you did was sit down and check her Instagram. She didn't have too many posts, but the few she had were 15 photos or more. Without realizing it, you spent about ten minutes absolutely mesmerized by her beauty, but because of that you missed a damn like on an old post that you quickly deleted.
You dropped the phone and brought your hands to your mouth, staring into absolute nothingness, thinking of the possible repercussions that would have, the worst being that you were going to look like a fucking stalker. God, you were a complete idiot.
You had no choice but to try to forget about it. Pretend it hadn't happened. Instead of thinking about it, you focused on attending to the needs of your stomach, which had been growling for a couple of hours, and after that, you took a shower and went straight to bed.
Despite being constantly aware of your surroundings, you didn't see Ashley during that entire exam week. It was kind of odd: your schedules would really have to be too different for you to never see her, even from a distance, and yet, at least once at some random hour you had to see her; Harvard wasn't that big.
She did upload the occasional story to her Instagram from time to time, many of them being things from her daily life and rather few of herself, whether in mirrors or selfies with her friends. There was one day when she even uploaded a story drinking a cocktail. Who knows where. Questionable, but certainly not your problem.
However, you didn't have time to be focused on what she did or didn't do. The week had been hard as hell, as had the exams you were prepared for but still felt like constantly walking a tightrope over an abyss. You were sure you had done well in each one, but there were several study sessions that had you with a severe headache that didn't go away until it was all over.
It was an exhausting week, and emotionally one to forget. But on Friday night something happened that you didn't expect, something that had you doing backflips and running up and down the walls of your bedroom. A like from Ashley on one of your old posts.
There were a couple of ways to interpret it. It could have just been a mistake, like yours had a few days ago. But that was ruled out when you realized that she hadn't unliked your post. The other way to interpret it was that she was making fun of you and wanted to let you know that she realized what you had done.
And of course, the last way to interpret it was that... Nah, that wasn't possible. Or was it? How the hell was the human version of Kirby going to be interested in you? That was impossible. You had only talked to her once, and you didn't remember being Prince Charming exactly. You had just been you, and that wasn't enough to make a girl like you after just an hour of conversation.
Or maybe it was? Thinking about it had you stressed out. You wanted to DM her, but doing so right now would make you look like a desperate weirdo. Maybe you lacked balls, but you wanted to do everything you could to not really scare this girl away, so you were going to take things slow and not make any risky moves.
Right now all you wanted was for Saturday to come. She had been clear with you, and you knew she could just not show up at the bar tomorrow. But you were still excited about the possibility that she would. You wished she would. And you had to think back to see if you had ever been this excited to see a girl in the past few years.
When the day came you went to the bar without any expectations in order not to be disappointed if something happened. When you got upstairs Jordan greeted you with his usual cheer, and you started your evening with the usual cold beer before the start of another Celtics game.
"Ayo bro what's wrong with you?" Jordan asked an hour later, frowning. "You're acting weird as fuck."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"You've been looking back like you're going to shoot the fuck out of this bitch and moving your leg this whole time. Look, you're doing it right now!" he pointed down.
You looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, you were moving your leg without realizing it. You also noticed that every so often you looked over your shoulder.
"First of all, I'm not going to shoot anything," you said, forcing yourself to stop your leg. "And... fuck, it's because of her."
"Her?" he raised both eyebrows. "Her who?"
"Fuck you mean her who?" You frowned.
“Ohhh! Ash?” he said, and let out a giggle.
“Aha.”
Jordan laughed and handed a ready-made drink to one of the customers near you.
“Right right,” he nodded. “Can I have your number?” he mimicked you in a silly voice. “Look, talking about Helen of Troy.”
You were two milliseconds away from turning around like the girl from the Exorcist, but you had enough self-control to turn your head like a normal person.
Ashley had just walked up the stairs, and she looked just as pretty as the last time you saw her, with her hair down, a white college sweater, and a grey scarf that still had traces of snow on it.
And as soon as she saw you, her face lit up with a smile, causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.
“Uhhh you got her in your pocket bro, look at that smile!” Jordan said from behind you, close to your ear so Ashley couldn't hear. "Aight so hear me out, I'll give you a hand, you'll see."
You frowned.
"Wait what?" You turned to look at him, but he had already played dumb and gone on to serve another customer.
Ashley came to your side at that moment, taking the free seat to your right, just like last time.
"Hi Mason! Hi Jordan!" she greeted you both, but focused her attention on you.
"Sup," you greeted back, turning to her. "I'm glad you came."
"Yeah well, I finished all my homework early and also studied enough to be free today."
"Oh really? Free to see someone, maybe?" you raised your eyebrows and took a sip of your beer.
"Mmm, I don't know," she shrugged, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I was really in the mood for a drink on a Saturday."
You chuckled and nodded.
"Aight, you want a beer then? It's on me, and I insist."
"Yeah I'm cool with that!" she nodded.
"On my way!" Jordan said.
"Thanks bro," you said, then looked at Ashley. "So? How was torture week for you?"
The smile on Ashley's face faded, and her eyes wandered to an empty glass on the bar.
"I mean..." she cocked her head and made an awkward face. "Well, I think? I don't have too many hopes for myself, but I don't feel like I did a bad job either," she looked at you. "What about you?"
"Exhausting," you sighed. "But I feel like I'll pass everything with flying colors. Do you feel like you didn't study hard enough or what?"
"Something like that. Let's just say I got a little too confident."
Jordan came over with your beers and placed them in front of each of you. You both smiled at him in thanks.
"Why do I feel like that cocktail drinking story has something to do with it?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.
Ashley was about to drink from her beer when she burst out laughing, having to set the glass down on the table so she wouldn't spill it. You looked at her with a smile, gobsmacked by her cuteness.
“Hey!” she snapped between laughs. “That was just an hour!”
“But it was enough to distract you,” you said before sipping on your beer.
“Nah, I’m good at dividing up my schedule.”
“6 hours of drinking and another two for studying?”
She laughed again, and this time she gave you a small, friendly punch on the shoulder.
“No, silly. You’re really into my stories huh?”
“I spend a lot of time on Instagram, so I end up checking them all the time and accidentally,” you shrugged.
“Accidentally, I see,” she nodded slowly. “Same as that like, right?”
Your hand froze around the glass of beer, where you looked with a smile of being on the ropes.
“Yup, same as that like,” you looked into her eyes. "And yours? Was that accidental too or what?"
She gently shook her head, holding your gaze.
"Nope, that was completely on purpose."
A smile escaped you. Things were flowing smooth as butter. It was up to you not to screw up.
"So you did come here today to see someone huh?"
"Maybe," she brought a hand to a lock of her hair to play with it. "And you seemed to be waiting for someone today."
"You," you said, not really thinking about it beforehand, just a shot in the air.
"Oh really?" she raised both eyebrows, now curling her lock of hair. "But you always come here, not this day at this time?"
"Yeah, but the difference is that now I've been waiting all week for Saturday to come."
Ashley giggled and looked away, now playing with her fingers in her lap.
"To see me?" she asked, and looked at you again.
"To see you," you nodded.
"What if I didn't come?"
"Eventually you would," you shrugged. "Pure statistics. But the odds increase if you wanted to see me too."
Ashley was quiet for a moment, just like you had been when she brought up the subject of you liking her post, a half smile on her face and her gaze on her glass. She then shrugged.
"You got me, I guess," she said.
"It wasn't that hard either. Hey, do you want to get something to eat?" you asked, changing the subject.
"Like what?" she said, and took a long drink of her beer.
"I don't know, they make some pretty tasty stuff downstairs. Maybe something sweet?"
"Mmm, nutella waffles?"
"Oh hell yeah, and they make some amazing cookie sandwiches too."
“That’s a yes then!”
“You wanna go sit over there?” you nodded behind her, towards one of the tables in the corner.
“Sure, let’s go,” Ashley replied with a smile as you both stood up from the bar.
As you passed, you glanced at Jordan, who was watching you with a mix of expectation and complicity. In response, he winked at you and discreetly dimmed the lights in the bar. The atmosphere changed instantly: the shadows lengthened, the warm lighting accentuated the textures of the brick walls and created an intimate space at the table you chose.
You owed that guy one.
The table in question was a cozy booth, with a brown leather corner sofa and high backs set against the brick wall. Ashley slid into the seat and sat right in the corner.
“I’ll go place the orders, wait here, will you?” you said, setting your glass of beer down next to hers.
Ashley just nodded with a cute smirk on her face, and then you hurried downstairs. You placed the order as quickly as you could, with a couple of milkshakes on top of the waffles and sandwiches, and then returned to her, sitting down to the side.
"I hope you like the lemon pie milkshakes, they're delicious," you said, arranging the plates and glasses on the table.
"I love lemon pie," she said, picking up one of the milkshakes to drink from the straw. "Did the stalking pay off or what?"
A laugh escaped you.
"Sweetheart, as much as I tried, I haven't been following you long enough to know that."
"Oh, you're calling me sweetheart now?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Uh... I'm sorry, does it bother you?"
Ashley then moved closer to you. It was really something very subtle, but you noticed it by the closeness of your thighs.
"It's cute, why would it bother me?" she said, holding your gaze.
You were closer than you'd ever been at that moment. It could happen, and you had a feeling she wanted it, but after looking at her lips a few times you decided not to push your luck too much.
"I don't know," you shrugged. "Some people find it uncomfortable, and I wouldn't want to make you feel that way."
She stayed quiet as she looked at you. You frowned in confusion.
"What?" you said.
"You're really cute, Mason," Ashley replied, in a lower tone. "I don't know if anyone's ever told you that."
The way you folded yourself into seven separate pieces was a bit hard to hide, but you were sure it had to have shown on your cheeks as they felt warm from the blush.
“I-I… ah…” you felt like an idiot getting stuck on your own words; your brain had short-circuited for a few seconds. “No. At least not here.”
Ashley placed a hand on your thigh, near your knee. A statue could be more alive than you at that moment.
“That’s a shame, because you really are.”
You once again tried to say something, but only a silly stutter came out of your mouth that ended in silence. It was your chance.
“Shall we eat?” she said, before you could lunge in and kiss her. She didn’t notice your intentions, so she didn’t have to have done it on purpose. Still, it was pretty inopportune.
“Ah… yeah,” you nodded, turning back to the plates and milkshakes. "Sure, sure."
There was silence between you as you began to eat, but not an awkward silence, rather a peaceful one, which made it clear that both you and she were comfortable with each other. Only after a couple of minutes passed did you resume the conversation, which this time was oriented towards anecdotes and interesting facts about your lives. Needless to say, you felt like you could talk to her about anything and she would be just as happy to listen to you, as you would to her.
But you needed to kiss her. You really, really needed to.
"Gosh those waffles are really crazy stuff," Ashley said with the milkshake in her hand, once you had finished eating.
"What about the cookie sandwiches?" you asked with a smile.
"I wasn't that big of a fan, but they were good too," she shrugged.
You chuckled.
"Fair enough, we can't all have excellent tastes."
Ashley laughed and nudged you slightly. You stared at her. Noticing this, she tilted her head and frowned.
"What?" she asked.
"You're so fucking cute, Ashley," you said, admiring every detail of her pretty face, dimly illuminated by the warm light of the bar's spherical lamps. "You really are."
That took her by surprise. She blinked several times, visibly stunned by such a sudden statement, but as she processed the information, her lips curved into a small smirk.
"You think so?" she asked in a low tone, and brought her hand back to your thigh, now closer to your crotch, awakening in you thoughts that were no longer so innocent.
"Yeah, I think so," you said, and put your right arm in front of her abdomen to grab her waist. You couldn't tell from the baggy clothes the weather forced you two to wear, but she had a small waist and a tummy that you found extremely sexy.
"So what are you waiting for?" She squeezed your thigh with her fingers.
"Waiting for what?" You pressed her closer, your faces now inches apart.
Ashley leaned in close to your ear.
"To take me downstairs to the bathroom and fuck me," she whispered, and pulled back to look you in the eyes again. "And kiss me, of course."
W-h-a-t?
You blinked a few times, confused by what you had just heard. Was she the same Ashley? Had you gotten distracted and she had switched with her evil twin? It wasn't like it bothered you, but it was such a drastic change that it seemed unreal.
"Wow," you said with a chuckle, and brought the hand on her waist up to her thigh to brush the side of your finger against her crotch. "In that order?"
Ashley moved her hand up and placed it on your bulge to give it a single, firm squeeze.
"As you prefer," she said, biting her lip as she looked down at yours.
And then you kissed her.
From the beginning, it was difficult for you to control yourself from making a scene in front of everyone's eyes, because her lips had a delicious pineapple flavor that drove you crazy and made you want to devour her like a maniac. For the moment, you had to settle for that slow, discreet kiss, like the one any couple shared at a bar.
Ashley was forced to remove her hand from your bulge, and you were forced to remove yours from near her crotch. Instead she left her hands still in her own lap and you just continued to squeeze her thigh with your hand. As the seconds passed your breathing became heavier, and by the way she shifted in her seat you knew that it was enough of kissing and it was time to move on to the fun part.
"To the bathroom downstairs then?" you asked against her lips.
"The one on the basement floor," she clarified. "There won't be anyone down there at this hour."
"Do you scream a lot or what?" you teased.
"Take me there and find out."
You smiled and took her hand before standing up. You both walked out of the stall and straight to the first floor, where Ashley stepped away from you.
"Let me go first," she said, steps away from the exit. "I wouldn't want us to be so brazen either."
"Aight go," you nodded.
Ashley walked out of the bar and headed down to the basement. You waited for about five minutes before heading in that same direction, leaving the bar to go left and down the stairs that led to the basement. Just like Ashley said, there were like four people down there counting the bartender, so it wouldn't be a problem.
Absolutely no one paid you any attention as you walked through the room. Good for you, because you were able to enter the ladies' room without any opposition. Inside it wasn't hard for you to guess where Ashley was: she was in the back stall, with her hand sticking out of the half-open door.
Rushing in there you found her waiting patiently for you, leaning against the wall with her other hand behind her back.
"You're late," Ashley joked with a mischievous smirk as you locked the bathroom door.
"I'll go if you want," you pointed with your thumb.
"Nuh-uh, come here," she said, and grabbed your face with both hands before crashing her lips against yours.
With no potential stares now, you two were free to let loose, your tongues now entering the equation just seconds into the kiss, which was becoming more and more wild and sloppy. Ashley lowered one hand to the side of your neck, and brought the other to your cock to squeeze and massage it over your pants. You, for your part, were met with a pair of firm, round buttocks as you lowered your hands and squeezed them. She let out a small moan against your lips, and brought her other hand down to unbutton your pants, unzipping them, and reaching into your boxers to cup your cock with her delicate fingers and slowly stroke it.
"You must be freezing from the weather," she murmured after moving a few inches away from your lips. "Maybe I can give you some warmth."
With that Ashley dropped to her knees in front of you and pulled your pants and boxers down to your ankles. With your cock released in front of her face, she placed wet kisses on the underside, moved down to your balls to lick them, and then back to your tip to catch it between her lips and suck on it.
"Fuck Ashley..." you gasped, bringing a hand to her silky brown hair to push it out of her face.
She gave your tip a couple of sucks and pulled you out to slowly jerk you off.
"Still cold?" Ashley asked. "Don't worry, I got you."
With that she placed her hands on your thighs and opened her mouth to take your cock inside her. Now her lips went further, slowly going millimeters past the middle of your shaft to come back up and start sucking you off. She made eye contact with you, which made your cheeks feel hot since until a few hours ago you only saw her as a giggly adorable princess, and now that cute princess was giving you a sloppy, sensual blowjob.
"Fuck that's perfect Ash," you moaned, watching as she pumped her head at a steady pace, slurping up the saliva she left behind and also using her tongue to lick the underside of your shaft.
"Warm enough?" Ashley asked after pulling you out, now kissing the sides of your cock while rubbing her fingers along the first few inches of it. "I still have a little magic trick."
She put her hands on your thighs and took your cock back into her mouth. This time, after a few sucks halfway down your shaft, her mouth went further and further until it reached your base, where her nose rested for a few long, fascinating seconds as your tip brushed the walls of her throat.
And yes, it was fucking warm. Overwhelmingly so, you dare say.
“Shit…” you moaned, letting your head fall back and bringing your hand to the back of Ashley’s neck.
A couple seconds later she released your cock with a couple of coughs and heavy gasps, and continued to jerk you off while wiping her spit-stained chin.
“Better?” she asked.
“Ashley… what the fuck was that,” you managed to say, now looking into her eyes. “The last thing I would think when I saw your face is that you give amazing blowjobs.”
“And I have a pretty tight pussy too, just so you know.”
You were officially going crazy.
“May I taste it?” you asked.
Ashley smiled and stood up, turned around and bent over with her hands braced against the wall of the stall. She then looked over her shoulder at you and looked down at your cock rubbing against her ass. You immediately got on your knees behind her, grabbed the hem of her sweatpants and pulled them down.
“Oh fuck,” was the only thing you could think to say. Her ass was a complete beauty: it was small, but the shape of her buttocks and how soft her skin looked made it look like a whole snack.
“You like it?” she asked, slowly swinging it from side to side.
"I have a way to answer that," you said, and placed both hands on either side of her hip before you began kissing every spot on her pretty ass, not stopping until both pale cheeks were covered in your saliva and your teeth marked on the fleshiest areas.
With your entrance already covered you wanted to move on to the main course as quickly as possible, so you grabbed her light blue panties—already with a wet spot in the middle—and pulled them down to her ankles along with her sweatpants, rolled around her feet. Her pussy was as pretty as her face, shaved, smooth, pink and shiny from how wet it was. You plunged your mouth in there without a second's thought.
"Mmmgh," Ashley moaned, pushing her hips back to bury your face between her ass cheeks, which you parted so you could easily taste her delicious, silky folds with your tongue.
The bathroom stall was soon filled with cute, low moans. You ate her pussy slowly at first, not wanting to look like a desperate fucking lunatic. But it was clear that wasn't going to last too long, not when her wet flesh was this delicious and her hips moved in such an adorable way as the pleasure built in her.
"Oh fuck I knew you'd be good with that fucking tongue," she gasped, her legs suffering from spontaneous tremors.
"You do?" you asked with an incredulous giggle, and squeezed her ass cheeks. "Apparently I was the only one with innocent intentions then."
"Don't get me wrong, me too," she looked over her shoulder at you, biting her lip. "But I also wanted you to eat my pussy really bad."
"Slutty behavior if you ask me," you said, and sank your mouth back into her pussy before she could protest.
Ashley moaned louder and pushed her hips back. Hard, to smother you with her ass. You contently let her do it at this point, more focused on licking between her folds and giving you a treat than your own breathing. This paid off a few seconds later, when the muscles in her thighs contracted and she burst into moans, grinding her ass into your face.
“Oh fuck!” she squealed under her breath, holding back from screaming louder. “Hurry up and fuck me for god’s sake!”
You stood up and bent over your pants bunched around your ankles to pull your wallet out of your pocket. Only to realize what a fucking problem there was: you hadn’t brought a fucking condom.
Were you fucking stupid or what?
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, eyeing the wallet.
Ashley turned to look at you with a scowl.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t bring… well, you know.”
“A condom?” She raised an eyebrow. "Mason fuck the fucking condom fuck me already!"
Well, if things were that way you weren't going to refuse; you were too horny to think of the most responsible decision at the moment.
"Yeah you're damn right."
You dropped your wallet to the floor and focused entirely on her. Your left hand went to her waist, and with your right you grabbed your cock to bring it between her ass cheeks and rubbed the tip between her folds just a couple of times before pressing forward. You and Ashley moaned as you took the first few inches inside her.
"Oh fuck slow slow slow," she said, and you slowly took every inch of your cock inside her. "Oh yes that feels so fucking good!"
"You weren't lying about having a tight pussy, fuck," you panted already balls deep inside her, her pussy walls squeezing your cock.
"You like it huh?" she asked, looking into your eyes. "Then you better fuck it properly."
"Bet," you said, and began to rock your hips back and forth, patiently increasing the pace so as not to hurt her. Before long the thrusts became consistent, your cock going completely in and out of that smothering pussy and your smacks against her ass reverberating through the empty bathroom.
Ashley bent lower on her back, leaning with her forearms against the wall of the stall as you fucked her faster, clinging to her small waist and making her buttocks jiggle. The bubble of pleasure you were both locked in made you quickly forget you were in a public place, so it got to a point where you were making a downright shameless fuss.
Until you heard voices approaching.
Ashley's eyes widened and she looked at you. You stopped, and your first instinct was to push her away from the wall, wrap an arm around her body and sit on the closed toilet lid (which thankfully didn't break). She was smart enough to understand what you wanted to do, so she grabbed her sweatpants and panties, pulled them off her ankles and pulled her feet up onto your knees at the exact moment two girls walked in talking.
"Yeah I don't know why he acts like that," one of the girls said, and you heard a sink turn on. "But then her fucking bitch of a best friend comes and says I'm the toxic one!"
You covered Ashley's mouth, and with her hands resting on each wall of the stall, she slowly went up and down on your cock, while you, with your free hand, rubbed her clit at the same discreet rhythm.
"Bitch cut it with that son of a bitch already!" said the other. "You've put up with too much shit from him lately."
"Fuck, should I?"
"Fuck you mean should I?! He spent a night with that hoe!"
If you didn't have Ashley moving up and down on your cock in that delicious way you would have laughed. But you did have to reinforce your fingers in her mouth, because she let out a moan that was luckily drowned out by the sound of the sink running.
"But he has a big dick!" The girl protested.
The other girl growled in frustration, and this time you did manage to let out a smile that almost turned into a chuckle.
"I can't stand you bitch, I swear to god."
The faucet turned off, and now you and Ashley were helpless if they stayed any longer and paid attention to where you were.
"I still want him to break up with me, not me him. I don't want any trouble with that damn bitch," the other girl said, and now her voice was fortunately heard further away.
"Are you chickening out or what?" the other girl replied, already out of the bathroom.
The conversation was no longer understandable to you, indicating that they finally left the bathroom. You took your hand off Ashley's mouth, and she was free to let out a relieved sigh followed by a moan.
"Fucking annoying bitches," she hissed, then slid her feet off your knees to replace them with her hands and bounced on your cock harder. "God that cock feels so good I wanna cry."
You brought your hands to her waist and reveled in the sight of your cock fully entering and exiting her pretty little body. Ashley bounced hard and fast, filling the bathroom with clapping sounds and inconspicuous moans. Her ass cheeks looked so pretty doing it that you couldn't help but squeeze both together and leave a spank on one, and she responded with a cute squeal.
"Turn around, I wanna kiss you," you panted with your hand on her lower back.
Ashley complied, and immediately rose off your cock to turn around and straddle you, her legs hanging over the sides of the toilet. You wrapped an arm around her waist, crashed your lips against hers and made her impale herself on your cock again.
With a moan against your lips she began to move on your cock as fast as she could, because the position wasn't exactly the most comfortable for her. For you, however, it was more attainable since you could simply plant your feet firmly on the floor and fuck her up and down. Ashley, relieved by this, wrapped her arms around your head and held onto your hair as you fucked her.
"Oh god I'm gonna cum so hard," she gasped into the kiss. "Fuck keep going!"
You brought your hands up to her ass to squeeze and grope it again before cranking up the engine. Ashley let her head fall back and held onto your neck with both hands, quickly being dragged into an orgasm that had her writhing and grinding her hips on top of you.
As she was riding out her climax you took the moment to kiss her pretty pale neck and under her chin, arms wrapped around her petite, quivering body to keep it pressed to yours at all times. Then, when you felt like you could continue, you used the strength in your legs to stand up with her carried. Ashley had a little scare, but still managed to hold on with her legs to your torso until you pressed her against the left wall of the stall, spread her legs wide, and with your hands behind her knees continued to hammer her pussy.
"You know I'd love to?" you asked, peppering the side of her neck with kisses.
"W-what?" she managed to reply despite her ragged breathing.
"Seeing your pretty princess face painted white," you said, and moved up to her jawline.
"Let me finish you off then, handsome," she panted with her hands on your back. "I could use a hot load for my skin."
You immediately pulled out of her pussy, lowered her, and she got on her knees in front of you, her head resting against the wall behind her. She caught your tip with her lips, sucked on it, and gripped her fingers to your shaft to stroke it at full speed. The eye contact was more intense than you expected, as Ashley's eyes went from being two pretty, shiny orbs to the eyes of a feline predator eager for its prey. If that wasn't enough, the girl was naughty enough to also grab your balls and give them such a good massage that you exploded without even warning.
Feeling a drop of your load inside her mouth, Ashley quickly pulled you out of it to masturbate you fiercely and receive every jet of cum on her pretty face. Every corner was covered in thick white liquid, in a perfect work of art that was deeply contrasted by the place you were in.
She moved her wrist slower as you stopped shooting jets, and finally took you back into her mouth to suck and clean every possible inch of your shaft.
"Fuck... so beautiful," you managed to say between gasps, admiring her face covered in cum all over.
"And if you behave from now on you can have this as many times as you want, baby," she said, and blew you a little kiss. "Pass me some toilet paper please."
You did so, and first helped her stand up before helping her wipe her face. Then you got dressed, and spent at least another five minutes just making out. It was she who pulled away from you with a small smile on her face.
"Do you want to spend the night with me?" she asked.
"Yes!" you replied embarrassingly quickly and nodded. "I'd love to."
Ashley giggled and opened the stall door.
"I'll go first, but first, your phone," she held out her hand.
"Huh, for what?"
"Just give it to me."
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and handed it to her already unlocked. She then typed for less than a minute and handed it back to you.
"Here, you earned it," she told you, winked at you and walked out of the stall and out of the bathroom.
You looked down, and what you saw was her contact with her damn number.
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Spren Notes: Consider this just a starter to welcome the best time of the year, hehehe. Btw, with Gowon there are already 2 of the 12 LOONA girls. Hope to be able to write all of them sooner or later. As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!
#gowon smut#loossemble smut#loona smut#kpop smut#smut fanfic#male reader smut#x male reader insert#smut
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BEG!
Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, nocurse!au, misogynistic!gojo, college!au, reader puts him in his place, CRACK do not take this fic seriously, enemies to lovers, suggestive, mdni
Synopsis: Satoru is a stupid alpha bro who’s misogynistic and a play boy in a fraternity at your college. He learns that he can’t walk all over you, and that turns him on.
An: Thank you to everyone who commented on that post and encouraged me to write this! I didn’t think you guys would eat it up like you did 😅 I thought this would be a smutty one-off, but I actually wanted to try and make it into something a little more meaningful; hence why it took a bit longer to post. This is only part one :)
The party. |
His house screamed wealth and overconsumption at every corner. Money was obviously frivolously spent with building and furnishing the Gojo fraternity house. It was sleek, modern, but still a devastating bachelor’s pad.
The Gojo fraternity held parties every day of the weekend, including Sunday. Women got in for free, and men had to pay 5 dollars to get in. Not that Satoru needed the money — he was disgustingly wealthy and a trust fund baby. He merely charged guys money that way no one below his standard could just waltz into his frat house.
Of course, he truly believed every other man in the frat house was below him in some way. He had the full package: smart, funny, rich, handsome, a dick that should be registered as a legal weapon.
It was no wonder that women was never an issue for him. He found flirting with them to be like child’s play. It’s just too fucking easy…. pun intended. He and Suguru once had a challenge to see who could pick up the most women in a single night. Satoru ended his night after fucking 9 women in a single night, and one of those events was actually a foursome between him and three girls at once.
Honestly, he could be so much worse. With a witty personality and a mouth that just won’t shut up, he could talk his way into or out of anything.
It’s a Sunday night, which usually isn’t a big turn out for the party at his house since everyone has class the next morning. Plus, all homework is due at 11:59pm on Sundays. But this turn out was just embarrassing, there was merely 10 people all sat in his living room.
Suguru already had a girl in his lap. Everyone was giggling about something. Satoru felt like he had a chip on his shoulder, he wasn’t the center of attention right now, so he had to fix that.
Plus, there was a pretty girl in the room who he wanted to impress.
Sitting down in front of you, Satoru grins and hands you a cup undoubtedly of liquor. “Here you go, sweetness. Have one more.” He encourages, knowing that it’d be easier to chat you up if you’re a little buzzed.
“Oh, thanks.” You smile politely, and you fake taking a drink out of it. You’ve heard the stories about Satoru, and there’s just no way in hell you’re drinking something he gives you.
“What are you all talking about?” Satoru asks with a casual grin, and he takes a sip of his own drink.
“Oh, just how dumb Andrew Tate is.” A nobody responds from within the group.
“What? He’s not dumb…” Satoru nearly pouts as his favorite starboy was being harshly criticized by his friends.
“Oh god, don’t tell me you like him.” You say with disgusted look on your face as you eye Satoru. Now, you’re definitely not drinking whatever he just gave you.
Satoru’s face twists in defense as you so boldly speak up about his interests. It’s clear to you that he’s offended, but he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it.
“Why? What do you think is so bad about him?” He retorts as he cocks an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat to try to appear as confident and collected as possible.
“How about how he treats women like shit?” You ask, raising your own eyebrow. Satoru has another thing coming if he thinks you’re just going to bow down and not argue with him because he’s rich.
“He doesn’t treat women like shit-? Where are you getting your facts from?” Satoru argues, and his jaw tightens a minuscule amount. It’s bad enough that he’s being challenged, but he’s being challenged by a woman.
“His literal interviews, and the video of him literally beating a woman?”
“That video was just a sex act without any context.” He dismisses, rolling his eyes and not dispelling any claims about the interviews.
“Bitch, is that what sex sounds like to you? Because you must not be doing it right if she sounds like that.”The room erupts into laughter, and Satoru’s face only makes it better. His pale skin is becoming a little flushed. His eyebrow is twitching slightly with anger.
He takes a breath before quickly recovering. He hasn’t forgotten his objective tonight is to sleep with you. His signature smile returns to his face, and he leans in slightly. “I don’t know. Why don’t you come teach me how to do it right?”
“As if. I’d rather grind my pussy against a cheese grater than fuck an Andrew Tate fan.” More laughter breaks out amongst the small group of people.
Satoru’s jaw drops as he looks at you with disbelief. You’d rather… grate your cunt than sleep with him? “Oh yeah? So, what kind of guy piques your interest then, princess? You probably like those woke emasculated guys. Suguru might be more up your alley.”
“Hey, what the fuck?” Suguru laughs, chunking an empty beer can at Satoru’s head. The girl in Suguru’s lap continues to mindlessly giggle and play with his hair.
“No, I like men who are calm and capable. Maybe a guy who can lead but also knows when to take the backseat.” You explain, eyes wandering over Satoru’s stature. “I like them funny and kind.”
“See? I’m just what you need, princess. I can do all those things and so much more.”
“Yeah? You’re going to take the backseat sometimes?” You challenge with a knowing smile on your face. You already know what type of guy Satoru is based off of this sole interaction — plus all of the horror stories of how he’s a modern-day Casanova.
“Princess, the only time you’ll need me to take a backseat is when you’re riding that pretty pussy against my face.” His cerulean eyes gleam against the LEDs in the room. He’s fully confident that will win you over.
Your face stays completely flat. You don’t even crack a small pity smile for him. “Oh sorry, was this meant to be the part where you’re funny?”
Satoru looks at you, and you see a small twitch in his eye. He’s never had someone match his wit or his sass before. You were the perfect challenge for him — his perfect match up.
He tips his red solo cup up until his finishes the rest of his drink. Fuck sleeping with you. He wants to make you beg for him to fuck you while he just laughs in disinterest. You’re his mission now.
“You’re cute, princess.” He finally comments before getting comfortable in his chair again. “You don’t have to act like you don’t want me. ��s okay. No one here will blame you.”
Your arms cross over your chest, and your lips curl into a frown. As much as you want to pretend to be unbothered, your face can help but show the irritation you feel from him. He’s unwavering, thinking that he will just argue and flirt his way to winning you over.
He needs to be humbled real quick, and you’ve got nothing else better to do.
“Oh really? Thank god. I’ve been dying to get on my knees and suck the most mediocre dick of my life.”
“You have the wrong guy, sweetness. I’m anything but mediocre.” He retorts without missing a beat.
By this time, most of everyone has stopped paying attention to you two — used to Satoru’s antics by now. This is just another Sunday night for him — chasing pussy as per usual.
“Yeah? Any guy who constantly boasts about how good they are in bed usually isn’t good at all.” You respond with a small eye roll.
Satoru’s strong arms cross over his chest. He’s wearing a simple white shirt with some black pants. It’s overwhelming plain, but it compliments him so well since his appearance is striking enough as it is. “I never boasted, princess. I simply stated that I wasn’t mediocre.”
You let out a small scoff and shake your head. It was honestly arguing with a brick wall. “Semantics. Either way, I don’t want to fuck you.” You dump your liquor out into a potted plant that’s next to the couch.
Wondering why you even decided to come to this stupid party, you stand up, and Satoru follows suit. “Hey now, darling. Come on. Don’t leave now. The night’s still young.” He tries to smooth things over as he takes puts his hands up in surrender. “I promise I won’t call out the obvious sexual tension between us for the rest of the night.”
“I have more sexual tension with your fake houseplant that I dumped my liquor into.” You deadpan, gathering your things as you decide that a cozy night in would be better than this mess.
Walking outside the house after everyone wishes you goodbye, you let out an audible sigh as you hear the door open and shut once more behind you. You spin on your heel to find Satoru jogging up behind you.
“Did I ruin your mood that much?” He asks with a small smile, shoving his hands into his pockets as he falls in step beside you.
“Well, following me home is certainly not giving you any bonus points.” You retort, tugging your jacket a little bit closer to your body. “Besides, that’s not really my scene.”
Satoru glances over at you as the two of you walk. He finds himself hypnotized in the way your skin glows in the moonlight. He would be lying if he tried to convince himself that you weren’t pretty because you are. Gorgeous — in fact.
“Really?” His voice is a shade softer now that he doesn’t have everyone’s eyes on him. “You seemed like a natural in there.”
You shrug your shoulders, not offering up any more information about yourself to him. He’s just another misguided frat boy with no intentions to change who’s looking to hit.
Satoru hates silence almost as much as he hates not being the center of attention. He hates how you’re not giving in even the slightest for him
“We should go out to dinner together sometime. I think you’d be surprised on how well I can fit in to any scene.” He offers, not quite giving up on hope just yet. He’s determined to get you in his bed, genuinely deluding himself that it would be a favor to you and him.
“No thanks.” Your voice is blunt as you step toward the entrance of a girls’ dormitories. Satoru’s technically not allowed inside at this late of an hour, but he’d be amused to see who would try and stop him. His family is the top donor of the university. He practically owns this place.
He stands there baffled for a moment as you turn down his date invitation. Rejecting his sexual advances is one thing, but you won’t even give him the time of day.
“So, when can I see you?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips curled into a small pout.
“You’ll unfortunately probably see me in class.” You respond, letting the door close behind you and checking to make sure it locked. Breathing a sigh of relief, you trudge your way up the steps to finally get away from that leech of a man.
Satoru stays at the door for a moment, contemplating following you inside — not for any nefarious reason. He just truly believes that you’d like him if you gave him the time of day. One of his many charming qualities is that he can talk anyone into enjoying his presence.
He had already made up his mind. You’re going to like him. You’re going to sleep with him too and like it, and he’s definitely not going to catch feelings for you so he can make you feel as embarrassed as he did tonight.
He’ll just have to set his plan in motion during class.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#fanfic#drabble#jjk suggestive#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satoru x y/n#satoru x you#satoru x reader#gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#satoru#enemies to lovers#jjk college au#jjk fic#jjk crack
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You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.
Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!
Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.
Word Count: 6.1k
Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.
Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there.
You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.
The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.
“Hey!” You shout back.
She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you��d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.
“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.
“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.
“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.
“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is.
Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.”
Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”
Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.”
You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”
“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks.
Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you.
As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you.
After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.
Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight.
Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face.
“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream.
Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.
“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man.
Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away.
Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’
When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.
“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”
“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this.
“Barely. He barely touched me.”
Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.”
You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.
He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.
“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.
Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low.
“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately.
No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.
His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.
Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly.
You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.
Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this.
His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.
“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”
His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger.
He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”
“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need.
Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.
The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.
It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.
“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.
Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t.
His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.
At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.
Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you.
“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.
“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”
“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes.
“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process.
The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you.
“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine.
“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.
Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”
You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you.
“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud.
You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?”
“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him.
“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”
“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum.
Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?
“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”
“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm.
“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere.
His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest.
It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with.
The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter.
Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs.
You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”
“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?”
“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.
Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet.
Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”
He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself.
“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.
“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries.
“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue.
“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.
Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It���s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him.
“Please Ray…”
“Please what?”
“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”
Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of.
He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.
You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”
His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”
“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.
“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.
“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh.
Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction.
“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.
“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”
“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.
“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust.
“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle.
“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.
“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut.
“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”
Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.
“Fuck, where do you want it?”
“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”
“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.
“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.
“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”
After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.
“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead.
You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.
He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did.
You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…”
“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm.
“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.
Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”
You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”
He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.”
“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.
“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”
“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.
“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.
“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly.
He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”
“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”
“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”
“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.
“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“
You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”
“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“
“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”
“Yeah.” He says, confused.
“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”
“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self.
“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”
“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.
“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously.
“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.”
You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again, passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was.
“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”
This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”
You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you.
“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.
Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole.
You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.
“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?”
You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”
It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”
You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!
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INFATUATED (b.) — perv!bsf rafe cameron
synopsis ᝰ.ᐟ perv!bsf!rafe & his infatuation for his bsf!reader
warning ᝰ.ᐟ 18+ MDNI. blurb, not fanfic. rafe being a pervert, mentions of t*pper and k*lce, descriptive scenes of smut & fantasies, naive reader
everyone else had already caught on to the way rafe felt about you, i mean, anybody with eyes could see it. your pervy best friend rafe had grown quite an obsession with you for nearly a year now. poor stupid girl, of course you hadn’t caught onto the fact he had eyes for you. nobody else’d say it out loud though, scared rafe’d smash their face in for even bringing it up.
naturally, he wasn’t good with his emotions — with vulnerability. we all know this, that man has some serious temper problems, not even mentioning the obvious daddy issues at play either. but it was different with you. he’d known you so long that it just came natural.
i mean, god. it’s like you two were already dating, the way he’d be there for each of your demands, buying you anything you wanted, and going out of his way for you. the bottom of his stomach twisted each time someone’d bring up the rumour about you two dating — and he definitely wouldn’t shut it down either, claiming he ‘didn’t know’ when you’d ask him about it — too naive and manipulated to question the severity of the truth behind his shrugged off lie, of course. why would your best friend lie to you?
he’d absolutely lose his shit when he finds out you were still a virgin. drunkenly confessed one night after the both of you had managed to drink an entire bottle from his father’s wine collection, it had opened up a whole new world of never ending fantasies for him, wondering how it was even possible you were still completely innocent and practically untainted.
and with that confession, came the thoughts. rafe’d thought nearly hundreds of times about how he’d absolutely love to be the one to wreck that tight virgin pussy — i mean, you practically owed it to him at this point. without his help, you’d probably still not have had your first kiss. it was on his mind for an entire week straight after you’d told him, finding himself pumping his fat cock within his palm, imagining how it’d feel if it was your wet cunt instead of his hand. it was definitely wrong of him, you were his best friend after all, but that definitely didn’t stop the thoughts from reoccurring.
poor guy wants to fuck you so badly. he’d have to conceal the bulge within his pants any time he’d be around you, thoughts of bending you over and having you drip onto his cock swirling within his troubled mind instantly. he’d do anything, just to feel the soft skin of your ass as you needingly grinded against him.
getting you high was his favourite thing ever — the way you’d practically spew out confessions about how you’d never properly made yourself cum, and about all the things you desperately wanted to try. he’d memorized it all (and definitely jerked off over it a few times but we won’t mention that) he wanted to be the one to take care of you, have your body trembling after ripping three or four orgasms out of your poor pussy, he could only imagine the sweet sounds that’d escape your mouth each time his fingers’d skim against your g-spot, jeez.
ward adored you. you’d come from a good family, and he knew how good of a person you were, especially when it came to rafe. ‘better make a move on her before someone else does’ he’d tell his son, and rafe knew he was right too. you’d be the perfect girlfriend for him, and an even better wife. he’d love nothing more than to fill your sweet cunt full of his fertile seed, impregnating you with his baby. you’d look so cute, all swollen and round after he’d bred you. he needed to have you.
he’d scare off any guy that approached you, making it known you were off limits, and he was willing to do ungodly things in order to have you stay single for him. it’d break his heart, otherwise. he was your best friend, and he was protecting you, right? pretty baby couldn’t handle it all by herself, he thought.
god, he was so whipped. sometimes he’d catch himself doing shit he’d normally never do for anyone, ultimately reminding himself it was for you, and continuing. that man would do anything just to see you smile. he loved you — he was obsessed with you, truly. topper and kelce rolled their eyes even at the simple mention of your name leaving his lips. he didn’t know what he was going to do with himself, that was for sure.
#bsf!rafe#perv!bsf!rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe fic#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron outerbanks#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe blurb#rafe cameron blurb
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Bucktommy Fixit where they reconnect next year and become friends - albeit ones who mostly converse via text and only really see each other on calls or running into each other at a bar etc. They don’t actually make plans to hang out, they just keep in touch. But keeping in touch turns into daily text conversations about anything and everything which turns into post-shift phonecalls at least once a week.
Meanwhile: Buck is casually dating, maybe more than one person, because he’s not looking to settle down right now he’s just looking to have some fun and meet some interesting people. But he starts dating one guy a little more seriously, to the point he stops dating others.
Also: Tommy’s been seeing a therapist. And doing art therapy. And trying his damndest not to turn into a sad lonely old man. It was a new year’s resolution kind of thing. He’d dated casually but soon realised it was better to just meet his base needs and focus on platonic relationships - like new friends and old friends, acquaintances and coworkers, and what little family he still talks to.
Someone asks how Buck’s new boyfriend feels about Buck texting his ex-boyfriend so much (and Buck has mixed feelings about all of that: having an ex-boyfriend and a second boyfriend makes him giddy and conflicted all at once). He starts to wonder if he shouldn’t be texting Tommy so much now that he’s dating someone properly. But he doesn’t get the same want to text his boyfriend about his work day or random things in his life, and when they do text it’s brief and he doesn’t respond to Buck’s rambling trains of thought the same way Tommy does. He thinks it’s fine. Not everyone is a texter. And Tommy is his friend and people text their friends all the time while dating or being married.
But it’s different when it’s an ex. And Buck hasn’t told his current boyfriend that the friend he’s always texting with is an ex. Not that current boyfriend is aware of how much they’re texting or how often they talk on the phone. And current boyfriend knows Buck’s ex is called Tommy. And Buck always just says ‘a friend’ whenever current boyfriend asks who pinged him. Never ‘just’ a friend; Tommy will never be that for Buck, despite everything.
Things come to a head late one night after/during a rough shift or after a fight with Buck’s current boyfriend. Buck calls Tommy and vents because Tommy always lets him vent and always listens to what he has to say, and then he broaches what they haven’t discussed since reconnecting months ago: does Tommy ever think about where they’d be right now if they were still together?Buck has taken responsibility for his part in moving too fast, but he wants to know more about Tommy’s headspace now compared to when things ended between them. It’s curiousity in that ‘what if’ sense, but he also wants to know how Tommy is really doing, if he’s opening himself up to people, letting himself be happy, be loved.
There’d been a closure type of conversation not long after they reconnected, with Tommy apologizing and being sincerely happy for Buck and mentioning how he’s been working on himself a lot in the time since. And buck was happy for him but Tommy held back on details about what exactly he was doing and what that meant for him and his future relationships. He wanted Tommy to want to tell him, so he didn’t pry, but he liked the idea of being a friend Tommy could be open and honest with.
“Evan..”
Tommy knows he hates when he calls him ‘Buck’, but he never actually switched back to ‘Evan’, instead just kind of omitted saying his name altogether. Buck wonders what he’s listed as on Tommy’s phone. On Buck’s phone Tommy is ‘TK’, and he’s told more than one white lie to more than one nosey person that it was a firefighter friend from Texas - gay but happily married. He does keep in touch with T.K., but there’s periods between his letters on Buck’s contact list.
Tommy already said he’s sorry. He’s already told Buck it wasn’t his fault, that he would’ve ended things eventually even if they took their time with every step and that’s on him, it’s his issues and his life, not Buck’s.
“I can’t think about that.”
“I think about it all the time.”
Buck has a boyfriend and he’s happy, but he thinks about his ex-boyfriend slash current friend and what they could’ve looked like today if Buck had found a way to make Tommy believe he wanted all of him. He tells himself it’s to know himself better, to be better prepared and try harder next time. But he’s kidding himself if he says it’s not because he still has feelings for Tommy.
“You have a boyfriend.”
“Yeah.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
And.. he is. He is happy with current boyfriend. But he was happy with Tommy. And he can’t help wondering if he was happier with Tommy than he is right now, or if Tommy was right and his excitement and wonder about being in a queer relationship got muddled up with how he felt about Tommy. He still doesn’t know. He wishes he knew.
“I was happy with you.” Tommy sighs over the line but Buck doens’t let him cut things off. “I know you think it was puppy love, and that I didn’t know you well enough, but.” But. He knows Tommy better now. Tommy has opened up to him as a friend, sharing personal details about himself and his past - not everything Buck wants to know and he never could bring himself to ask, but he’s learned things about Tommy in these past few months that he wishes he’d known when they were dating. And he wants to know more. He wants to know it all.
“But?”
“Sometimes, it works backwards.” Sometimes you get to know someone and fall for them, and then you learn dark things about their past or get a better look at their emotional baggage or they go through a rough time. And some people break up because it’s too much or not what they wanted. But some people simply care more, and become stronger together for it. Buck wanted the chance to know Tommy better, to be there with him through the bad times. He never got to find out how things would’ve gone but he thinks he knows his own heart well enough to know he wouldn’t have abandoned or rejected or hated or been fed up with Tommy because he has a past or he’s imperfect or life threw some crap at him.
Buck knows people are more than they seem. He wants to see them for everything they are, to be trusted with that, the same way he wants to be seen in return and wanted anyway.
“What does?”
“Love.”
Sometimes, you love someone more after you learn the bad stuff - or what they think is bad - not less.
Buck breathes in as Tommy remains quiet.
“I didn’t have to know all of you to love you, Tommy. And whatever you think about how I would’ve reacted to the things you didn’t share with me, you’re wrong. I know I would’ve loved you anyway. And not out of pity, or some misguided infatuation, but because knowing you better means getting to love more of you, it means loving you better.”
Tommy doesn’t respond, and when there’s a bleep from Buck’s phone he thinks Tommy hung up - except he didn’t: it’s a facetime request. They’ve done this a few times before but only for something on a call or because it was easier for Buck to show Tommy what he was talking about in realtime rather than try to send through photos and videos.
Tommy fills his screen looking soft around the edges, hair and clothes and face bed-rumpled. His face is drawn into something that threatens to break Buck’s heart again; it beats in aching memory and yearns in equal measure. You’re good, he wants to say, you don’t deserve what you put on yourself.
“Tommy..”
#bucktommy#fic fodder#fixit#.txt#tevan kinkley firepilot#evantommy#this was a rambling idea that kind of turned into a narrative. oops.#leaving it there for you guys to expand on bc i don't know where to go from here tbh.#is it a hopeful end to the conversation? or angsty - and then later tommy comes to buck..
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General Relationship Headcannons (Bats pt 1)
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Richard "Dick" Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy "Tim" Drake
Summary: How do I think these characters would behave in a relationship. How I think you two would meet, their love languages, their first dates. You know the rest.
Gender Neutral Reader
DC Masterlist!
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Bruce Wayne:
You two met at a Charity Fundraiser. He literally bumped into you. It was instinct to check you out, his analytical eyes scanned you. But it was perfectly hidden with his Playboy Brucie Persona.
He immediately went to charm your socks off. You may not have any vital information, but hey, at least you'd be a good lay.
He was very, very surprised when you turned him down. You sited not being interested in him as the reason.
Well, now he's just offended.
After that Night, Bruce began stalking seeking you out more. He learned everything he could about you. He had a point to prove, alright? He totally didn't find you attractive.
The more he spent time with you, the more he learned about you from you... The more Bruce looked forward to spending time with you.
Bruce found that he fell hard and fast for you. You were just... amazing! You were like a warm blanket on a cold winter's day. You were like the few rays of sunshine that Gotham gets a year...
Bruce eventually dropped the Brucie act around you, and he was surprised when you responded positively to Bruce just... being himself.
Bruce asked you out not too soon after that. He went all out on your first date. Candles, the most expensive food, a band. Bruce did not hold back.
You went along with it, but after words you told Bruce that you were okay with low effort, laid back dates. He felt like a bit of an idiot.
Bruce's Love languages would be Acts of Service and Quality Time. He loves doing things and spending time with you.
Richard "Dick" Grayson:
Haley brought you two together. The Puppy had gotten off her leash, and run straight into you. Dick apologized so much as he collected Haley from your arms.
Dick helped you off the ground, for a 3 legged puppy, Haley had a lot of power. He introduced himself, and offered to get you something to eat an an apology.
You two hit it off right away, though! Dick was funny and charming, and you bounced off of him easily.
What was supposed to be an apology hot dog ended up in a new friend and an exchange of numbers.
Hang outs became daily events. Dick would coo over Haley with you and buy you food. You were really fun to talk to!
Some months later, Dick decided to shoot his shot and ask you out. You were amazing, and just so fun to me around!
Your first Date would be at a cafe. Dick wanted to Impress you, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable with some massive, grand gesture. Who was he, Bruce?
Dick's love languages would be Quality Time and Physical Touch. He loves being around you and touching you. He also gives the best cuddles. It's a win-win.
Jason Todd:
Jason encountered into you at the Iceberg Lounge. He was just doing his usual rounds, making sure everybody was happy, along with scrapping together any information he could.
He noticed that you were uncomfortable, being hit on by a bunch of goons. Something told him he'd regret it, but he swooped in. He gently place his hand on you hip, it was sold you could easily escape if needed. With a few sweet words and nicknames, Jason chased the guy off.
He then properly introduced himself. You two got to talking, and Jason found that he... really liked talking to you.
Your friendship blossomed, and a year later Jason was hit with the fact he had a crush on you. Thank you Roy, for that.
He took his chance, and decided to ask you out. He was super relieved when you said yes.
This dork brought you to a bookstore for the first date. After browsing around he then brought you to a decent restaurant. It was all worth it to see you happy.
Jason's love languages would be Quality time and Words of Affirmation. He doesn't feel like he deserves you, reassure him that he does.
Timothy "Tim" Drake:
220k, strangers to lovers, slow burn, coffee shop AU- Sorry. You are a barista at his favorite cafe. You were the one who usually took and made his coffee.
He once asked you why you worked such unholy hours, since you were always in when he patrolled. You looked him dead in the eyes and said that college wasn't going to pay for itself, and that sleep was for the weak.
That's when he decided to look into you. He wanted to study you and everything about you. You were just amazing.
Bruce stopped that in it's tracks and forced Tim to talk to you like a normal person. No stalking and unhealthy relationships on Bruce's watch.
He was terrified as he talked to you. He led the conversation a best he could. The more he talked to you, the more relaxed he was.
You two got along very well! Tim was surprised about how well you two got along. You two shared a lot of interests. Tim felt... seen.
It took a couple months for Tim to work up the guts to ask you out. He was so excited when you said yes.
He brought you to the Observatory. He knew no villains would attack, and it was quiet. He bought you so much from the gift shop.
Tim's love languages are Gift Giving and Words of Affirmation. He has a lot of trouble with his self worth. Love on him, assure him that he is more than his role as a CEO or Red Robin.
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a/n: I split this up, like, a lot. It was going to be a massive post with all the male characters I write for. Then I was going to do the same thing for the fem characters I write for.
But that was very fucking overwhelming. So I decided to split it up into the factions I write for. So, expect A Few of these types of posts lol.
Also Happy American Thanksgiving!
#dc headcanon#headcanon#dc comics#dc universe#x reader#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader#celestials writing#Bruce Wayne#Batman#Richard Grayson#Dick Grayson#Jason Todd#Timothy Drake#Tim Drake#Nightwing#Red Hood#batfamily#batfam#red robin#bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#tim drake x reader
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Sorry not sorry. But some people need to read this.
Tw: when I am employing the word « delusional » I am not referring to the medical definition of it.
What I am going to be saying is going to be disliked by some. But I don’t care.
I am going to be talking right now about a phenomenon that I’ve been seeing ever since I started reading mangas and watching anime’s and it has always bothered me.
And guess what ? I am not the only one being bothered by that, which reassures me.
The problem is the following:
Each time there’s a genuine friendship between two male characters or even two females in a manga/anime, people dirty it by gluing on it, their own fantasies and making it somewhat romantic/sexual, by inventing a « sexual tension » between these protagonists.
Always happens in the anime/manga universe.
…and I am going to tell you why it’s a problem/bothersome situation for many :
The problem is that it renders the story less deep and genuine and more people are influenced in thinking that, a male character, by being nice to another male (same for females), is romantic or whatever.
Like some of y’all are sexualising everything. Get it together !
This is, most of the time (actually 99% of the time but okay), LITTERALY delusion because the authors have never, ever meant for their characters to be viewed as anything but genuine friends/acquaintances..
It distorts the story for nothing and, in my opinion, it is disrespectful to the creators of the manga, to just take their characters and create a quiproquo on it. Sorry not sorry to say it.
As an example, let me take the « Dazai x Chuuya » fans.
The readers go as far as to totally disregard the fact that, Dazai, since literally the first episode, has implied that he was not attracted to guys. On top of that, he’s kinda depicted as the guy who likes women. Never ever was anything that would make him attracted to Chuuya as a male.
(It also happens for JJK and others… )
Therefore, you’re disregarding the genuine and complex aspects of a potential friendship and understanding between them, to glue on it what you would have wished it to be : a romantic or sexual attraction. It’s a projection of what YOU would have WANTED it to be.
It is actually immoral to distort a character’s sexuality like what ?! It becomes a habit and people do it also for celebrities. It’s kinda going too far.
It’s not for you to decide.
When it’s « not a big deal » for some, it could actually represent a big deal for many. And make many people uncomfortable.
Respectfully :
You wanna do your fanfics ? NO PROBLEM really ! be our guests ! but do it in the context of a fanfic, after putting on a disclaimer, as a respectful gesture for the creators behind mangas !
(On the other hand, when people write « character x reader », it doesn’t distorts the original story cuz Y/N just doesn’t exist).
BUT rubbing it down our throats without any context as if it was a general truth provided by the creators, that « these characters are in love/sexually attracted to one another » NO. Keep it for yourself or your group of friends if y’all agree on it.
Again, many many people feel as uncomfortable as me regarding this. It’s kinda also getting out of hands.
It’s getting out of hands especially when I see fandoms like the Black butler fandom where they imagine a « sexual tension » between Sebastian that is an adult and Ciel that is 13 !
Like it or not. I am not sorry for being respectful and realistic.
Some decency is needed :
Not everything is okay with what people are doing on the internet. You can have your « dirty thoughts��» but don’t expose them, not everyone wishes to hear about it. Some things have to stay between you and yourself.
Kids/ teens :
And kids/teens (all those below 18) y all need to get off your phone a little and go play outside or meet your friends (for teens ig) if you don’t wanna end up in depression at an early age or with extremely poor social skills.
At least take a real book like ones at the school library and learn things. Instead of learning how to .. by reading explicit content cuz you never listen when we tell you that a certain one shot is +18.
Again, I am not sorry. I am pissed.
#bsd anime#bungou stray dogs fyodor#bsd fyodor#anime#dazai x chuuya#chuuya x dazai#chuuya nakahara#bsd nikolai gogol#bsd chuuya#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai x reader#atsushi nakajima#bsd atsushi#atsushi x akutagawa#bsd akutagawa#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x geto#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto x gojo
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― THANK YOU STRANGER s.jaeyun
PAIRING. fem!reader x nonidol bf!jake(sim jaeyun) CONTENT. angst with happy ending , post-breakup , reader is in her self love + healing era WORD COUNT. 1,063 NOTE. this is part 2 of you're just a stranger :3 pls remember that this is all just fiction !! i hope you enjoy ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )
Of course. Of course you missed him, Jake. You didn't want to admit it, but you missed him presence. You missed the man who you once loved with all of your heart and soul. The day after he left you in shambles, you just didn't know what to do with yourself.
You still felt completely numb.
It had been 5 days since your guy's breakup, and anyone could tell that you were a fucking mess. You hadn't showered or even gotten out of your room for the past 5 days. Your close friend, sunoo, was the person checking up on you and bringing you food to eat.
And to put it simply, you felt and probably looked like dog shit.
Jake, he was the first guy you ever had any feelings for- of course the breakup affected you. But you were very sure that it wasn't affecting him!
Your brain was about to put more useless thoughts of Jake in your head, but you didn't let it.
Truly, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him anymore.
The y/n 5 days ago would've texted and asked him "oh how are you?" or "i miss you" but the y/n right now has his number blocked. Growth is real, people.
At first, you felt like it was kind-of your fault. Maybe if you cared less he would've still loved you. Maybe if you didn't make him dinner every night and "treat him like a baby" he would still be your boyfriend. But wait-
It wasn't your fault.
It wasn't your fault that your efforts weren't acknowledged. It wasn't your fault that he suddenly stopped loving you. It wasn't your fault that he wasn't communicating his true feelings and thoughts to you.
Fuck, you had to stop this cycle.
Slowly, you sit up from your comfortable laying position and place your feet on the ground. You shiver at the cold feeling of the wooden floor. You feel a little more awake now.
After getting up, you make your way to the bathroom and holy shit, you look like you just got beat up. Well, technically, Jake just beat the shit out of your emotions so...
You brush your teeth and hop in the shower, making sure the water is warm. You wanted to feel warmth, some sort of comfort. You hadn't felt any sort of warmth or comfort in five whole days.
As soon as you feel the first drop of warm water on your skin, your whole body relaxes. Wow, thank god for showers. Like, actually. After 5 minutes of just standing and drowning yourself in the warm water, you freshen up and get out.
You already feel so much better. I mean, you just washed off all the icky germs, right?
You quickly dry your hair and do your skincare and then head to your closet to pick out an outfit. While in the shower, you decided that you wanted to go to the local cafe to get a drink and of course, some fresh air.
After what felt like almost an hour of searching for the best outfit, you ended up choosing a pair of flared jeans, a brown leather jacket, and an off-white cropped top. To accessorize, you put on some chunky earrings and a few rings.
You can't help but smile, you feel so much more alive. Maybe you really didn't need Jake in your life anymore.
Quickly, you grab your purse and keys and walk out of your apartment.
Once you stepped outside, you immediately felt the warm sunlight on your skin. The sun wasn't too bright, and the weather was cool with a slight breeze. You forgot how much you loved being outside, especially during autumn.
While on the way to the cafe, you spot two birds on a traffic light. Past y/n would've definitely went back home and sobbed for two hours straight. But for some reason, you didn't feel like crying. You didn't feel sad. You found the birds cute and just moved on.
After a 15 minute walk to the cafe, you order your vanilla latte and quickly find a seat. You can't lie, that walk was kind-of tiring.
While waiting for your order number to be called, you pull out your phone and headphones that you brought with you in your purse. You unlock your phone and immediately go to spotify and connect your headphones. You quickly put your headphones on and click "play" on your favorite playlist.
Music. Music was so healing for you. Music always made you feel better. Music was the bestfriend you never had.
"Order for number 88!" the worker exclaims.
You get up from your seat and walk over to the counter to get your latte. You turn to head back to your seat and oh.
Jake's here...?
You noticed he dyed his hair back to a dark brown, a color you used to love on him. But, you didn't feel any love for him anymore. All of that love was slowly becoming self love, and you really didn't mind.
Unfortunately, you lock eyes with him for a split second. And he looks...sad? You're confused, but you shrug it off. You just hope he feels better.
You walk to your seat and stay at the cafe for about 10 minutes before heading back home. It felt good to treat yourself. Actually no, not just good- it felt great.
You deserved to show yourself love. What you didn't deserve was being a complete mess over a guy treating you like shit.
*ping!*
Huh?
You quickly grab your phone from your jacket pocket and unlock it.
Wait, what?
Unknown : y/n i'm sorry. please unblock me. i'm sorry y/n please.
Oh, it's Jake.
You don't know what to do, but you end up responding.
not gonna unblock u jake
You smile at your response. You didn't feel the need for Jake in your life anymore. It's like a breath of fresh air.
You turn off your phone and shove it back into your pocket. Instead of thinking more about Jake, you think about what you want to do when you get back to your apartment. Maybe online shop and do a self-care night, or invite your friend sunoo over for a sleepover. It had been forever since your last sleepover with sunoo!
Honestly, you're thankful.
Thankful to Jake for showing you that you didn't need him in your life. Thankful to Jake for showing you that you needed to be showing yourself some more love.
You take out your phone and text him for the very last time.
thank you stranger :)
i hope you enjoyed this pt 2 !! pls reblog if u did :D
#enhypen#jake sim#jaeyun#sim jaeyun#jake angst#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#enhypen angst#jake imagines#enha#enha imagines#enha x reader#mochiwonz
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Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭
A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭
Fade To Black
Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry
Word Count: 1.2K
“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.
Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”
“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!”
The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders.
“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending.
“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?”
You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.
The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room.
Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.
He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you.
Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?
He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.
You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind.
Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.
Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.
As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . .
The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe.
Safe.
Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .
How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower.
Pride and stubbornness be damned.
Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.
So close, yet so far.
Too far.
It'd been too long.
You'd been gone too long.
The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach.
Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized.
Pure unbridled fear.
Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife.
He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair.
Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.
“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face.
“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.
“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach.
Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . .
But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands.
His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you.
He couldn't feel you.
And it killed him.
He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature.
And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry.
It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out.
He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . .
He wanted you back.
He needed you back.
Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity.
Without your light, he was nothing.
Without your laugh, he was nothing.
Without your attitude, he was nothing.
Without your warmth, he was nothing.
Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win.
He let it all fade to black.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#x reader#fem reader#vox x reader#vox hazbin hotel#vox imagine#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox#vox the tv demon#tv demon#tv daddy#vox the tv daddy
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you make me cry happy tears prometheus /pos
This'll be in chrono order for our mooting days that i remember or believe
Wave 1
@mysteriouswolf @geodetojoy [ + @royallygray but you came after tapes and cloud ]
I love you guys so, so much, you are my life and my family. You guys were part of my first wave of mutuals, and the first to reach out and interact. I still have all three of you guys' song covers in my playlist, and even if I wanted to escape you guys I'd have to scrub my computer and my phone clean to do so.
G, Prometheus, GMan, Geo, you are one of the most determined and most hard working people I know. Even though you've gotten a lot busier and shit you're still checking in with our group chats on discord and such.
Myst, Icarus, Mysti, you are one of the most caring and considerate people I know. I miss you, but I also know that you need to take care of yourself and even though you're on break (from discord atleast) you still took the time a week ago(?) to check in and ask how I was.
Roy, Daedalus, even though we've barely interacted I can tell you've got a creative mind, and that you're a caring person. I know you probably have a lot going on in your life now but you've still occasionally reached out and pop the 'how are you guys' in the gc of just me you myst and g.
Gradual 1
@rantapes @cloud-has-fallendown @glowinggayduo
I don't even remember how became moots, who followed who first, but from our little interactions I can tell you three are amazing and funny and just overall just kind people. I've been mutuals with Cloud and Falle since before either of them changed their usernames, actually, and any time I see you three in my activity I'm always really happy.
Wave 2
@naris-606 @ruby-raider ( @host-the-radio-guy you came after The Askblr Wave )
Moather, Mama, Uncle Jimmy, you three are genuinely like parents to me (yes, even you Jimmy. Even if I call you Uncle.)
Lyn, Moather, you got me to be so much more active on Tumblr just with your silly little roleplay blog. If you didn't have Ask-Grian then I would certainly not be here today, you've helped me so so much and I genuinely would never have been so happy right now had qe never met.
Nari, Mama, you were one of the first of Askblr to follow me and the first to get me on Discord, I believe, unless Lyn got that first. You're so sweet, so kind, so caring, and I just can't help but see you genuinely as a Mama.
Jimmy, Timmy, whatever I end up saying or typing, you're so kind and you have an amazing sense of humor. I miss being able to call with you, and being able to just have the sillies againbut life must life and I figure you're in A Time.
@aurum-the-yapper @gh0styfr13nd @levidoesstuffs
You three are my siblings, whether you like it or not.
Aurum, I don't even have a nickname for you like I do the rest. Every time we interact it's so fun. When I first joined Askblr you were one of them, one of the famous people that I looked up to and that I didn't want to scare off.
Sam, Ghosty, you're like an older brother to me. I know we'll sometimes act as if I'm the older but I'm definitely not. I used to look up to as an Idol of sorts but you're definitely not idol material, not for me anymore, cause you're my brother and can't ever get rid of me.
Levi, Listener, you're a funny a person and I' so glad I met you. You beat all my friends at telling me happy birthday at the exact time I was born and it was just too funny, since I believe that was genuinely our first interaction and it was you yoinking the title of Ultimate Best Friend from the ones I actually talked to on the daily- and now you're my sibling. Even though we talked nothing about it. You're my sibling now.
@cat-in-the-desert @cookiekit1 @iwillcausechaos
You two came in during the wave of Askblr mods following me, Cat being RG mod I believe? I'm not sure- but either way, we've only interacted a few times. I'm sure you three are amazing people!
Gradual 2
@mcskedprisoner @charlybvnny
You two are from the whole Ask DSMPblr yeah?-
Uhm, yeah, so, you guys? I get scared yo interact with either of you cause in my brain you are like big mcyts. Happens with anyone i come across on tumblr im realizing-
IRLs
This bit is in order of when I met them IRL
@xoxii-is-asleep
Xoxii, hi, hello, we looked eachother in the eyes and laughed about mustard yesterday. Know youre my favorite cousin, love you
@jooberzzz @hermit242 @silly-the-shrimpy
You three were part of my first friendgroup that's ever gotten tumblr, you three are some of the reasons I'm still going.
Joob, Telemachus, Joobia Woobia, Child #1, you were the first one I 'adopted.' I love you like a mother loves her child and I need you to know that.
Hermit, Child #2, I miss you so, so very much. If you ever come back to Discord, or if you see this, I'll always have an account on discord named Charbeloved that you can friend.
Tater, Circe, Child #3, you're in the same bout as your sister to me. Stop getting taller. /lh
@theobs3ssivepuppeteer
Darling, Puppet, Dove, Light of my life, 3rd life Scar to my 3rd life Grian, Penelope to my Odysseus, my air, my universe, my everything. I miss going to school qifh you, I miss your hugs and your voice (i say as im about to be on call and mc with you) i love you.
You're the most caring, most considerate and amazing person I know, you're so sweet, hun, you're sweeter than dark chocolate covered on frosting and actually maybe not because just the thought of that is making my teeth hurt
@b0b3rty
Bob. You. YOU ARE YOU. i dont.
My qords are gone when it comes to you wait-
Idols
@clearlyclueless @cyncerity
You two.
Cyn, you got me into reading fics (now i write and i can thank you for that) and I look up to you dearly. Any time I see you in my notifs I go insane, honestly-
Clueless. Istg you made fics. I. I swear. Thats why i followed you.
For your fics.
Unless im misremembering but i believe you were also one of the first tumblrs i found (before i even made my account)
Others
@federalfazbear @mcsm-r0ckz @pequena-polla58 @pompygirls
I don't remember when you guys came in, but I know we've barely interacted at all- get PERCIVED if you followed me first and IM GETTING PERCIVED if you're an important person that I didn't follow first or someone I followed first, always feel free to reach out and ask questions i love interacting on the gay site!
i am also thankful for @literallyd34d and @belladonnamoonundead
#thanksgiving#<3#always feel free to reach out#please#begging#or even just join the discord server i have in my pinned.#beggin
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contemplating : love, friendships and theories of time
୨୧ ; fate is a strange concept, isn’t it? because park sunghoon was the last person you had expected to see in your philosophy lecture in uni
pairing! philosophymajor!sunghoon x philosophymajor!reader | wc. 0.8k | warnings: wrong philosophy info, prob cringe EN-
🖇️ : philosophy major sunghoon SKDKDKSK. also, to the girly who asked for a uni fic for the science and maths girls, i hope you’re looking forward to my sunoo uni fic ~
you and sunghoon go WAYYYY back
he was your neighbour in that little picturesque town you both lived in, your mum's friend's annoying son who always seemed to be loitering around at your house
you thought your mum adopted him or smth bc why was he at your house more than his own?? — more under cut!!
you used to tease him about being homeless back in the days
but yk you two were best friends
but you and sunghoon kind of just drifted apart in high school after he moved during his freshman year at high school
you see his instagram posts sometimes, pictures of him out with his friends, jawline still jawlining
you sometimes even scroll down to his older posts where you are present in his photos, smiling next to him with a wide braces smile
but you never thought you would cross paths with park sunghoon again
that is, until university.
you walk into your first philosophy lecture and oh look there he is
park sunghoon sitting in one of the corners with his notebook looking like the exact definition of brooding intellectual
what is that guy doing here WHY IS HE HERE?
you two recognise each other instantly but there's this moment of awkwardness
like "oh, do you remember when we used to steal each other's snacks in 5th grade?"
except now he's all grown up, wearing wireframe glasses and quoting descartes during class discussions
you just try to focus on your lecture but you can't really forget about sunghoon being in your philosophy lecture
oh yeah, and he looks x100 hotter than you remember WHAT'S GOING ON
puberty hit him hard
after the lecture, you're about to pack your stuff and leave as soon as you can but he just strides up to you with his obnoxiously long legs
you always hated his stupid long legs you always had to run to catch up
you're certain he walked faster on purpose to leave you behind
ANYWAYS sunghoon just says long time no see in that smooth voice of his.
he's polite, maybe a bit shy, but there's a hint of a smile on his face and it's almost like the years of not seeing each other disappears
you two start hanging out more- grabbing coffee together before 8AM morning lectures designed to kill university students, studying together in the library
your mum is also really happy to hear that you've met sunghoon
you always knew she liked him better than you.
but you guys only get closer on a fateful thursday morning as you’re making your way to your morning lecture
because sunghoon is standing in the courtyard with a baby kitten in his arms whilst panicking
“y/n this cat keeps following me and she doesn’t have a mum.”
ofc you need to take it in SHE’S SO CUTE
you end up skipping lectures and spending the entire day with sunghoon to bring the cat to the vet and buy food
sunghoon wants to name the cat descartes but you veto that immediately
by the day is over, you have a kitten named mochi with sunghoon as a co-parent
now you’re seeing him all the time bc guess who has joint custody over mochi??
ok but spending time with sunghoon isn't as hard as you thought it would be
like yes he moved without a word and practically ghosted you in highschool
but it all feels really natural WHO CHEERED??
but between kitten playdates and philosophy study sessions stuff start feeling kinda different HMMM
which you didn’t think was possible btw sunghoon’s hobby is literally talking about existentialism and calligraphy
yeah and you knew him since he was five
ok but he looks really hot whilst talking about sartre NDJDKDKSKS
who knew you would start feeling all warm inside from sunghoon
not the 14 years old you in the past
but now everytime you touch in any way, you feel yourself flush pink
and you can’t ignore how sunghoon tries to act all nonchalant about it but his ears are turning red
how cute.
“you ever heard about hegel’s theory of love?”
“if you’re about to lecture me, i’m leaving.”
“no- listen, it’s about how love is this push and pull that makes you grow and stuff, and i don’t think i’m just studying it anymore. i think i’m feeling it, with you.”
ok that sounded a lot better in my head please don’t come for me
but yeah
aristotle believed everyone has a purpose they’re meant to fulfill. perhaps you didn’t know it back than, but losing touch with sunghoon and finding him again… it feels like you two were meant to meet again
heeseung jay jake sunoo jungwon ni-ki
✉️ : @icyy-hoon
#엔하이픈#성훈#enhypen#enha#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon#enhypen fic#enhypen headcanons#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen drabbles#enhypen thoughts#enhypen oneshots#enhypen scenarios#sunghoon headcanons#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon fic#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smau#sunghoon thoughts#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon oneshots#sunghoon soft hours#sunghoon drabbles#heeseung#jay#jake#sunoo#jungwon#ni ki
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dylric angst fanfic - part two
includes necro, noncon, hints of prey/predator, etc.
notes: rapist murder with a side of library necro suicide please! (yes so what if i used zero hour pictures for the banner…)
edit: ((if my phone corrects my shit one more time im gonna smash it…its SUPPOSED TO BE ZERO HOUR SMH…))
right to the end, just like a friend
i tried to warn you somehow
you had your way, now you must pay
im glad that youre sorry now
the hours had passed by quicker then dylan and eric could comprehend.
dylan had spent the whole night, sobbing into erics shoulder while he sat there and held him. it was the sweetest thing hes ever done for him.
until now.
they were dressed and ready to go. everything they needed to do was done, they were in their spots, and now all they had to do was wait for the bombs to go off in the cafeteria.
dylan stared at the building while everything was starting to hit him. this was really gonna happen, he was really gonna do this.
he was going to do this with his best friend and prove to everyone that they were gods - they decided who lived and who died for their mistakes.
he thinks to himself though that they shouldve gone off at this point.
he looked across the lot to eric, seeing him looking down at his watch and shaking his head. he looks up and then back down, cursing to himself.
he makes a quick move to grab the rest of what needed out of his car and dylan does as well once he sees it.
he had no idea what they were gonna do now - their plan revolved around the bombs, but as long as his friend had some semblance of a plan then he was fine with that.
eric walks his way over across the lot to dylan “cmon, vee, lets just get this over with - that freakin’ crap isnt gonna go off.” he was obviously annoyed, but he was gonna make the most out of this.
dylan nodded “yeah - yeah, alright.” is all he answered with before they both turned to head in.
-
they took care of everyone outside with ease, then dealt with everyone inside. it was going a little smoother then they expected it to, but it still had its faults.
they were split up for awhile too before they finally came back together and recuperated, ready for their next step.
however, dylan hadnt noticed any of the boys they were *really* after. they had taken care of who they wanted to except for them.
if they had stayed home today for whatever reason or had somehow escaped then this was totally ruined.
it made dylan nervous and frustrated - it made eric absolutely pissed.
he wasnt gonna go down without those fuckers going down with them - he promised dylan that it would be the last thing he does.
they walk through one of the hallways, glass cracking beneath their boots and blood making the floor slippery.
“have you seen them yet?” eric asked, looking over to dylan. he wasnt sure exactly what they looked like or who they were - he had a very vague idea, but it was hard to get any information from dylan about it.
the blonde shook his head “no, i havent. theyve gotta be around here somewhere - i thought i saw their cars in the lot.” he had remembered seeing the cars parked outside, but he couldve just been seeing things.
they both could tell how each other were feeling. eric could tell that dylan was on edge and was frustrated that he might not get to see them be taken down before his own death while dylan could tell that eric was pissed they were being pussies and not showing themselves - so much for being tough guys, huh?
“its fine, ill find them. dont worry,” eric reassured him, but paused “i promised you that.” he hesitated to say it and it came out all embarrassed, but it made dylan smile.
“thanks, reb.” he replied as they turned the corner.
the brunette was about to say something else, but as they rounded that corner they were face to face with who they were looking for.
there was four of them there. four muscular white guys who were jocks on the schools sports teams. they looked all tough and proud, but now they were about to be nothing.
they were trying to open one of the exit doors and as if it was some miracle from the god they didnt believe in, the door was jammed. it wouldnt open no matter how hard they tried.
it made eric snicker - natural selection, bitch, is what he thought.
the brunette looks to the other, seeing the blank look on his face and his stiff posture. that alone told him all he needed to know.
he walks right up ahead, checking his gun as he did so to make sure it was loaded.
“hey, assholes!,” he called over to them “turn around, let me get a good look at you!”
they each turn their heads, confused, but the confusion quickly turns to horror as they try harder to open the door.
“cmon, man, you dont gotta shoot us,” one of them speaks up, but he fails to sound manly and his voice shook “we didnt do shit to you!” he spat while his friends tried to tell him to lay off.
erics eyes narrowed, glaring while his finger hovered over the trigger “are you that retarded? didnt do anything?,” he laughed, turning his head to look at dylan who was a little further back “vodka, did these fags do something? or are we just making it up?”
dylan shakes his head as if to say they werent making it up. he swallowed hard.
“yeah? name one fuckin’ thing!” the other answered with quickly. he clearly wasnt too smart to be taunting like this.
dylan doesnt want to name anything. he doesnt want to describe what happened just for these sick fucks. he doesnt want to think about it more then he already has.
he hoped eric understood and he did.
he turned to look back at the other boys “you know what you did.” he hissed, respecting dylans obvious discomfort.
none of the boys say anything for a moment until one of them whispers something to the other.
“oh - oh, yeah! *you* guys!,” he laughed “i didnt do shit to *you*, harris, but maybe to that freak over there!,” he continued laughing as he pointed towards dylan - even his friends who were hesitant before seemed to giggle along with him “it was all just a joke, ya know, we didnt mean anything! way to get overdramatic like a girl!”
he just wouldnt shut up and even his friends joined in, saying snide remarks and insults.
the two of them just stared, listening to all of it. let them run their mouths and ruin this for themselves, they figured.
“youre such a pussy, klebold! making your little boyfriend fight for you? seriously? man up, shoot me like a fuckin’ man!”
that was it for eric. he raised his gun and pressed his finger down on the trigger - all hell broke loose again.
it was a symphony of screaming, bullets, and the click of his gun. it was music to his ears.
dylan on the other hand was in complete shock - like an animal almost. it was surreal to watch the boys who assaulted him be murdered right in front of him, especially by his best friend.
he didnt ever entertain thoughts like this, but, god was it hot.
he couldnt even think of a better way to say it - it was just *hot.*
eric looked so focused, so set on making sure each of them had enough lead put into them to last them their trip to hell. the way his shirt and pants clung to him - the sweat dripping down his forehead and arms - it was all so attractive.
he lets off the last couple of bullets, the hallway turning eerily quiet and peaceful besides the distant shrill of the fire alarm and police outside. they both stare at the mess of blood and bodies.
eric doesnt even realize when dylan finally walks up next to him, abruptly grabbing him by his face with both hands and placing his lips to his.
his eyes widened, completely caught off guard. he wasnt expecting anything like that at all - maybe just some shared words about how good it felt to do that, but not a kiss.
eric knew better, but it gave him a sick sense of power.
he just murdered his best friends rapists for him - it was almost like he owed him now.
he could be the hero and kill those guys, but that doesnt make him any better. he was a teenage boy with an obsession for power.
dylan pulled away less then a second later, clearly embarrassed “sorry, sorry,” it comes out quickly, ready to explain himself “you just - looked really good,” it comes out a little softer then he meant it to. theres a soft layer of blush that eric is just barely able to make out on his face “thank you, eric.”
they werent more then friends. thats what they thought, but there was always something - something between the two of them that extended far past the label of friendship. an underlying need.
even the events from the previous night theyd chalk up to close friendship, but it was more then that.
eric doesnt reply, but instead grabs the front of dylans shirt and pulls him back down, kissing him again.
the blonde is surprised, but he quickly reciprocates.
it was ironic how intimate this seemed considering their situation, but this was their last chance to ever do something like this. no one was here to judge them - it was just them and the end of their world.
they stay there like that without a care and its so oddly sweet, but erics own needs get the best of him.
he lets go of his friends shirt, but instead puts his hands on his hips - his nails dig in just the smallest bit.
however, dylan isnt a fan. it makes him a little uncomfortable - he was more then grateful for what he just did for him, but he wasnt trying to be like *that*.
he pulled away just a moment later, wiping away some of his spit with the back of his gloved hand.
the brunette is less then happy to have him pull away, but he doesnt say anything about it. he knew better - thats what he told himself.
“i think we should go.” the other broke their silence. the end was inevitable and they both knew it. they didnt want to say it outright, but they already knew what needed to be done.
“yeah,” eric answered back “im done with this crap anyway. we gave them what they were asking for - lets go.”
-
its a quiet walk down to the library aside from the occasional comment with laughter and the random firing of their guns.
they had did it - they accomplished the only goal they set out for themselves. they did what they had to do.
now it would be over - all the chaos and terror would come to an end and they would finally be set free from this hell they were born into.
now they were in the library, sitting on the floor together. they ran their plans over hundreds of times, but they never really seemed to go over this part.
they were both checking over their guns, making sure they were set and ready.
“we’re doing it together, right?” eric asked, earning a nod from dylan “yeah. should be easiest that way.”
the discussion of that stops there. there wasnt really much to be said. they were going to die no matter how they did it.
dylan goes to place the end of his gun to the roof of his mouth, but he paused, turning to his friend.
“thank you - you know, for everything,” the other turns his head as he speaks “you were a great friend, reb.” theres something so surreal about the way he says it - they never put any thought into what their last words would be, so for it to be something so genuine was odd.
the brunette smiled “yeah, you too, vee,” its so weird to hear anything nice come out of his mouth, but it happens anyway “guess we’ll see each other in hell, huh?” he laughed and so does the other. they could barely ever take themselves seriously.
“yeah, man. ill see you there.” he replied back through his laughing. it sounded like they were just joking around - like they hadnt just murdered people and were about to finish themselves.
the laughter dies down though, being their final sign to get things moving along.
dylan placed the gun where it needed to be, glancing over to eric as if to let him know he should do it too, which he does.
neither of them make a move - at least until the blonde turns his head away, finger over the trigger. his friend followed his actions, keeping a finger over the trigger as well.
only a moment later did eric hear the bang from the gun, followed by the thud of his friends body falling.
this was where he was supposed to pull the trigger - end whatever suffering he was supposedly going through, but something makes him hesitate.
he knows what hes supposed to do - he knows he shouldn’t look over and should just get this over with, but he cant help it when he pulls the gun away and looks over to dylan.
it was just about as graphic as he wouldve expected. his head was blown open and the blood was already making a mess on the floor - he noticed how some of the splatter even got on his arm.
it was definitely weird to see his friend that way, but he couldn’t seem to piece together any other emotions. it was just *weird.*
he looks away and puts the gun back to where it belongs. he had to get this over with and just be done with it - there was no other way out of it. however, again, something makes him hesitate.
thats until he hears what sounds like gagging and choking.
he moves the gun away again and looks back over, seeing now that dylan was choking on his own blood while his body seemed to twitch and convulse.
it was a bad shot - a terrible shot even. he shouldve aimed better, but eric couldnt look away.
he just stared and watched.
it was wrong - so, so wrong about what he thought of next. he still owed him - he owed him for killing those guys who had hurt him. he didnt want to be on the same level as those guys, but he was far past that now that hes killed their classmates and committed crimes of his own.
he quietly set his gun down on the floor, getting up and sitting right in between his thighs.
was he seriously going to do this? was he really going to be as sick and disgusting as those guys - if not worse? yes, he was.
he swallowed hard, reaching a hand up to unzip his pants and pull them down. hes greeted with pale, scarred skin and thin thighs. it was a little off putting - he wasnt a big fan of the scars, but he carried on anyway.
he knew he had to make this as quick as possible considering there probably wouldnt be a lot of time before the police arrived in the building. of course, he didnt know that it would take them as long as it really did, but he just had to make the assumption.
he quickly pulled down his boxers and barely gives himself a chance to look at him before he was already taking care of his own. he unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down just enough to take his cock out.
it was kind of disgusting how hard he already was. who knew all this murder and gore would get him so worked up.
eric readjusted their position, fixing the position of dylans legs and body, which was hard to do because of all the involuntary movement.
any thoughts of morality were thrown out the window at this point - there was no time for him to think about how wrong this was. he just had to do it. it was owed to him.
he lines up with the other, forcing himself in with a hiss. it was a tight fit - he wasnt welcomed here and he never would be. the groan it pulled out from dylan only proved that further.
he pulls back out, pushing back in and trying to get a pace started. its slow and rather awkward - he had never had sex with anyone before so he really only knew how to do this because of porn - and even that wasnt a great reference material when dylan didnt have a cunt like the girls he watched.
the brunette tries to make it work though, biting down on his lip as he forced himself in as far as he could go.
he would be lying if he said it didnt feel good. it felt *amazing.* maybe the blonde really did feel that good or maybe the situation made it better. he had no idea and he would never know.
he holds onto his hips for more leverage, trying to build up a better, quicker pace. it works somewhat - his own precum starting to make the slide bearable and easy.
he pulled another noise from the boy on the floor once he started to go faster, listening to his continued gagging and groaning. it was like he was aware, but just not quite.
it didnt matter though, he was gonna finish one way or another.
shame starts to creep its way in, but he has to shove it down. he feels ashamed that hes doing this to his best friend whos about half dead on the floor - not to mention he was another guy. his first time shouldve been with some pretty girl he met, not with a guy he considered his best friend who was bleeding out onto the floor.
at the same time though theres something about that specific fact. something so primal about taking what was his - not having a care about what anyone would think of him for doing this. he was an animal, a predator taking what he needed from his prey - what he was owed and deserved.
the thought of that alone just about sends him over the edge - thrusting in particularly hard with a moan of his own. he does it again, followed by one more until hes finally spilling inside of him.
the twitch of dylans body and the gagging seems to stop as he did so.
he stays inside of him, not bothering to pull out. his whole body felt fuzzy and there was a sort of hazy feeling that hung over him. it was euphoric, really.
he has to pull out though against his own needs, looking over his work. he just about gets another erection when barely any of his cum leaks out.
he has to refrain himself though. he stuffs his own cock back into his boxers, fixing his pants and then turning his attention to his friend. he pulls up his pants and boxers too, fixing them and putting everything back into place.
eric wondered what the reports would say about this. what the autopsy report would say about the cum left inside of his friend and on his own dick - maybe theyd say he had raped him in death which wouldnt be wrong, or maybe theyd think it happened before - that dylan was some kind of faggot who willingly took it up the ass.
either way, it didnt matter.
eric wouldnt be around to see it and neither would dylan.
#tcc fandom#tcc tumblr#tccblr#tcctwt#tee cee cee#tccblur#teeceecee#dylan columbine#eric columbine#tcc columbine#columbine tcc#columbine 1999#dylric#dylan and eric#eric and dylan#anoufrievboy fanfics
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Things I wish more people would talk about in Lego Monkie Kid
(Prepare for a rant longer than the bible /silly)
Spoilers for LMK seasons 2, 3 and 5 (also a brief mention of emotional abuse, and trauma)
Li Jing's terrible parenting
First of all, can we acknowledge that Nezha was CRYING when he had to go against his father??
LOOK AT HIM
How are we supposed to forgive Li Jing so quickly when all he does is talk down to Nezha? And you could argue that Li Jing said he was always proud of Nezha, but all he did was treat him terribly, and as an expert on horrible parents (*cough* my dad *cough*), if they're in a situation where they have to say the right words, 👏 THEY 👏 MOST 👏 LIKELY 👏 WON'T 👏 MEAN IT 👏, especially if they don't change after that. Li Jing could possibly change his treatment of Nezha, that still doesn't forgive what emotional trauma he could've given Nezha to make him CRY AT THE THOUGHT OF GOING AGAINST HIS ORDERS. Now, you could say that Nezha just didn't want to betray his father, and that's what made him cry, but the evidence still points to Li Jing being a horrible father. And I might have a bias towards Nezha, since he is one of my favorite characters, but I know for a fact I'm not the only one who thinks at least one of these things, because I learned one of these things from a post I saw (I can't find it tho, but if anyone might know what I'm talking about, please tell me). Keep in mind I'm not in any way a psychiatric professional, but I do know about what emotional abuse can do to a person, and how the way a parent treats their child can really effect the child's mental health.
Summary: It is implied that Li Jing is a terrible father.
Did I really make a giant paragraph on how Li Jing sucks? Oh, girl (gender neutral), we ain't even done yet.
How Possessed Sun Wukong is actually really creepy, and how he is the perfect temporary antagonist
I hardly think the first part needs explaining. LOOK AT HIM
Now, we all know how Wukong is, like, one of the most powerful guys in the world. Which makes it even more shocking when he is turned against the protagonist, whom he cares about like a son/brother/whatever you prefer (as long as it's not proship-y), by someone who is thought to be less powerful than him. Usually, Wukong makes a lot of noises while fighting, which is something really intimidating about the absence of any grunts or yells when he is possessed. I will use this scene for example
And there is just something about the zero hesitation to attack anyone, up until the end of the special when he slowly walks up to MK, showing that he is fighting LBD's control. And, may I just add, that scene is REALLY CREEPY
LOOK AT HIM
Anyway, as I said in the title of this rant, Wukong is a perfect temporary antagonist. He is extremely powerful (so powerful that he literally punched the lotus out of Nezha)
He caused a crater in the ground from punching Nezha one time, and he took one step and caused a dent in the ground. The protagonist (MK) clearly doesn't want to fight him, and Wukong is immortal. He LITERALLY WALKED THE UNIVERSE-ENDING FLAME
NOTHING CAN KILL HIM! (I apologize for the quality of some of these images, my tablet sucks)
This next thing ties into Wukong's possession--
LOOK AT THE PURE FEAR ON MACAQUE'S FACE WHEN HE IS FACE-TO-FACE WITH WUKONG
That is the face of a guy who is reliving trauma. And let's not forget the scene in the Shadow Play episode where MK charges at Macaque, and the flashback to Wukong flying at him makes it very clear what this moment reminds him of. And in the Benched episode, he tries to convince Tang that his friends (and specifically Wukong) are better off without him, and I bet that's how Macaque felt when Wukong had killed him. I really hope that season 6 touches more on Macaque's trauma.
Now, onto my last topic (finally, I spent so long writing this overanalysis about Legos)
Wukong apologized to MK
If you remember, in season 3, Wukong actually apologized to MK. This is mainly something I'm just really happy about, because he finally admitted he made a mistake. Throughout the first two seasons, Wukong is known to be a silly guy, not taking things seriously, and not admitting his mistakes, so for him to actually apologize for something he did, and actually look guilty for it, is something that just really is nice. LOOK AT HIM (fourth "LOOK AT HIM" of this rant)
He is genuinely sorry. Now if he could APOLOGIZE TO ALL THE OTHER HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE HE HAS MADE ANGRY, THAT'D BE GREAT
Wukong, I love you, you're my babygirl, but MACAQUE IS MY OTHER BABYGIRL, APOLOGIZE TO HIM
Now, finally, my rant is done (for now)
Did I really just make the longest post I've ever made to say what I wish more people would talk about, which turned into an in-depth analysis of Lego monkeys, and a Lego prince whose whole thing is pink flowers? Yes, yes I did. I have no shame
Now, to quote a great man...
MONKEY KING DRAGON NERD OUT!
#derg rambles#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#i am not even joking when i say i never put this much effort into an analysis with anything ever#i legit spent like over 40-something minutes on this#lmk sun wukong#lmk nezha#lmk macaque#lmk six eared macaque#six eared macaque#lmk third lotus prince#lmk monkey king#lmk wukong#sun wukong#monkey king#third lotus prince#i just realized that all these rants are focused on my three favorite characters#this is how dedicated i am to them#obviously my favorite characters are wukong macaque and nezha#oh dang its almost 1:00 am where i am
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Solas, outnumbered seven to one, overpowered by a lot more than that, betrayed by his best friend Mythal who bound him to her service and coerced him into leaving the Fade and coerced him into making a weapon that would make an entire people tranquil to stop the war she started AND ignored him when he said it would create *checks notes* a blight and made him do it anyway. Solas, facing seven blighted wannabe gods who turned on his best abusive friend Mythal when she finally stood up to them after CENTURIES of him begging her to do just that and starting a rebellion to free all their multitudes of slaves: *creates the veil, imprisons the blight and the Evanuris, and preserves all life in Thedas* World: FUCK THE DREAD WOLF, GOD OF TREACHERY AND LIES *worships the Evanuris and their dragon thralls*
Solas: zzzzzzzzzz (knocked out cold from saving the world for LITERALLY SEVERAL MILLENNIA MORE)
Tevinter: *razes what's left of Elvhenan, steals all their magic, enslaves the elven people for entire length of Solas's world-saving-induced coma*
Also Tevinter: *breaks into the fucking black city and brings out the blight*
Also also Tevinter: *uses so much blood magic that the veil ends up in tatters*
The Blight: >:)
World: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck *throws everything they can at the blight, including--*checks notes again*--the blight
Orlais: you know what sucks? elves. let's kill them all
Ferelden: good shout, mes amis
Orlais: you know what also sucks? mages. put them in prisons.
Ferelden: you're full of good ideas when you're not invading us
Free Marches: MAGE PRISON, YOU SAY?
Orlais: add templars who can decide to murder them or make them tranquil on a whim at any moment
Ferelden and Free Marches: *frantically taking notes*
Rivain and Nevarra: we're just going to be...over here...
Blights 1-5: i've got a great idea i've got a great idea
Blights 1-5 after a while: my great idea didn't work :(
Archdemons 1-5: ....... :(
Evanuris 1-5: ......... :(
Solas, waking up in 9:40ish Dragon: what the...WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCKING FUCK. they can just KILL MAGE CHILDREN? AND PURGE ALIENAGES? AND ALMOST EVERY ELF IN TEVINTER IS A SLAVE? *absolutely rabid, seeks out the Dalish, as remnants of his people*
The Dalish, at Solas: *ARROWS*
Solas: ......fuck this shit, fuck all of this shit, fuck these tyrants in particular, fuck this fucking...UGH
The veil, after all this: (o.O:0oO.)
The remaining blighted Evanuris and the 99% of blight that did not escape: :)
Solas: well, that is a problem, going to need to address that ASAP, but turns out millennia of coma doesn't leave a spirit spry
Corypheus, busting out of warden jail: I AM FREE
Solas: hm, could kill that guy letting him unlock my orb, since he broke into my blight prison in the first place and defo deserves dying
Corypheus: veil needs a certain je ne sais quoi, a...bigger hole. i will make one.
Wardens: yes, good plan, blighted magister man. we are in control of the blight inside us and also heroes *in death, sacrifice = divine justinia's ritual sacrifice under thrall*
The veil:
O
Corypheus: >:( but like...not dead
Solas: well, i did not see that coming
Lavellan: *in chains, threatened with execution*
humans: KNIFE EAR >:(
Lavellan: *hole in the sky, hole in her memories, hole in her fucking hand* fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, wait, this hole in my hand helps close holes in the SKY
Solas: *.* It seems you hold the key to our salvation
Lavellan: i'm sorry what
the human Chantry: HERALD OF ANDRASTE!!!!!!!! *falls to knees*
Lavellan: I'M SORRY WHAT
Cassandra: time for you to decide the fate of the world
Lavellan: I'M. SORRY. WHAT???????? you know what? fine. *stops alexius from blood magicking his way through redcliffe and time itself, gets punted into a hellscape of nightmares and makes it back with the help of a rebel tevinter mage* the mages i rescued from becoming probable slaves to tevinter are our allies and dorian is my new best friend for being the only reason i made it back alive and the whole world didn't die *dabs*
Cassandra: >:(
Mother Giselle: >:(
Lavellan: ffs
Corypheus: *dragon temper tantrum*
Lavellan: *somehow escapes both dragon and Corypheus, trudges through blizzard, collapses*
Mother Giselle: *.* I FEEL A SONG COMING ON
Literally everyone but Solas: *falls to their knees*
Solas: a word?
Lavellan: OH THANK HEAVENS
Solas: these people are wack and aren't going to like that Corypheus is using elven magic *cough*, they're a hairsbreadth from executing us at all moments lol, btw here's a castle, you know, for you cos i highkey see myself in you and god i'm so fucking lonely
Lavellan: me too but wait, what the fuck is happening. you know what? fuck it. solas, what if we kissed,,, in the fade
Solas: what IF we kissed,,, in the fade *fade tongue*
Solas: ...you continue to surprise me. you show a wisdom i have not seen...since my deepest journeys into the fade!
Lavellan: don't you dare walk away from me now
Solas: okay vhenan i stay
Vivienne: this is a DEMON and NOT A PET
Lavellan: *blinks* right, no, this spirit kid who is the literal only reason we escaped Haven alive is my son now. if he hadn't read roderick's mind we'd all be avalanched or blighted dragoned, so SUCK IT UP
Vivienne: >:(
Cassandra: >:(
Sera: >:(
Solas: :D
Wardens: btw we're doing blood magic and raising an army of demons. not really our fault but also not NOT our fault? idk, blight in the blood, morally grey area. get it? grey...war--never mind, we'll be at adamant xoxo
Cullen: lotsa soldiers gonna die
Lavellan: fuck, is there another choice?
Advisors: ...no
Cory's dragon: *burninating the adamant, burninating the wardens, burninating all the people and this crumbling ROCKY BRIIIIIIDGE! CRUMBLING ROCKY BRIDGEEEEE*
Lavellan, flying through the air hundreds of feet towards the ground: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck *opens a rift into the fade*
Everyone but Solas: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK WE'RE IN THE FADE
Solas: we're in the FADE!!!!!
Lavellan, after escaping the nightmare's lair: glad half the team is pissed at me, what's next, an imperial ball? how hard can that be?
Orlesians: they invited an ELF SAVAGE >:(
Lavellan: you know what, fuck this and fuck Celene for genociding the entire Halamshiral alienage and fuck you, Gaspard, you can be Briala's little French Orlesian bulldog
Half the Inquisition: *shocked pikachu*
Morrigan: allow me to shemsplain all of elven history to everyone, including Solas, yourself, and all the ancient elves in this temple
Lavellan: you know what? okay. *rubs at Mythal's vallaslin, makes eyes real big* who is this "Mythal"
Solas: *choking in the corner*
Cassandra, muttering: i do not want to do a ritual to a false god
Morrigan: lemme have the well, lemme have it, i deserve it more than you
Lavellan: ...abso-fucking-lutely not *drinks from the well out of pure spite*
Solas: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, VHENAN
Lavellan: idk vhenan, this world sucks and i wanna make it better and i love you
Solas: ...you are everything and you inspire me, hurry, i need to tell you i'm the dread wolf but am going to break up with you and remove your slave markings instead and btw they're basically a drawing of me in my true form and honestly, this whole thing is real fucked up and you're the only real person in my entire life who sees me
Lavellan: wait what
Solas: i'm bad and don't deserve you and had to harden my heart to save the world before and everyone hated me for it so i'm projecting when i say you must harden your heart to a cutting edge to kill Corypheus, I'll explain after we kill him
Lavellan: ...oh yeah guess we should do that but I gotta go meet Mythal first
Solas: wait what
Mythal: *is Morrigan's mum, is only mostly dead, also 100% cool with overriding her servants' will entirely for shits and giggles, 0/10 do not trust* i'll help you if you fight this dragon lol
Morrigan: *choking in the corner*
Corypheus: *has a mahoosive temper tantrum when Mythal's pet dragon kills his pet dragon, dies*
Solas: ;-; ilu, inky, what we had was real but i'm afraid to do to you what Mythal did to me. I MUST AWAY
Lavellan: ....
World: HERALD OF ANDRASTE!!!!!!!!!!!!*
*some restrictions may apply, like in a couple years we're going to forget everything you did and be real mad at you
Solas, somewhere: been there, vhenan
World, two years later: :D we're here to hate you, right on schedule
Qunari: you are in need of the gentle path. therefore, we are coming to kill you all
Solas: like hell you will. but come to think of it, this is a good excuse to see vhenan again
Lavellan's arm: TIME TO DIE
Solas: defo another good excuse to see vhenan again. probs should study that arm anyway
Lavellan, after several Qunari too many: CAN ANYTHING IN THIS FUCKING WORLD STAY FIXED
Inquisition, including Divine Victoria: *shocked pikachu*
Lavellan: i'm going back through the fucking looking glass to talk to some ancient elven sentinels with Mythal's magic whisper well, they're the only fucking thing that makes sense here
Qunari: *destroying everything in sight but getting hounded by the dread wolf at every step*
Lavellan, whose arm is trying to kill her but is following Qunari through her own people's magic mirror world: ...i think i'm in love with the dread wolf
Companions: pfffffft
Cole: :D YES, YOU ARE AND HE LOVES YOU TOO
Lavellan: thank god i have you, cole, my spirit son
Solas, in a statuary garden of petrified Qunari: i suspect you have questions
Lavellan: honestly, fen'harel, not really
Solas: *shocked pikachu* well done
Lavellan: i'm real tired and you could have just trusted me back in Crestwood.
Solas: this world is broken, i must tear down the veil
Lavellan: yep, i'm one "knife ear" away from putting a knife in the next human's ear who says it tbh, i'd rather live in the fade with you and my spirit son, can i help you pls vhenan
Solas: ...no
Lavellan: wtf
Solas, internally panicking because he followed Mythal wherever she went and she dragged him to literal hell and trauma and now his one true love is offering to follow him while he probably makes things worse again: absolutely not, no, but i love you forever
Lavellan's arm: >:(
Solas: ...right, i gotta take that
Lavellan: wait what
Solas: i will never forget you *trundles through mirror with severed arm*
Lavellan: oh fuck my entire life, you know what, Ferelden and Orlais? Inquisition is no more, i'm going on sabbatical to Stone Bear Hold where at least people are not insane and Storvacker loves me, and then i'm going home to the castle vhenan gave me. don't call me. byeeee
ten years later
Varric: gonna go stop Solas, who invented the veil and is From Fade, from doing things i don't understand, wish me luck, inky
Lavellan: WAIT ONE GODDAMNED SECOND I'M COMING WITH YOU
Varric: no <3 i found a complete rando who will fuck everything up
Rook: hey, what if i drop a statue on this nuclear arsenal protecting the biggest biological weapon of mass destruction known to all of thedas? that'll help
Neve, a literal mage who should know even small rituals can blow up and kill you: probs not a good idea but Varric, a dwarf who knows nothing about magic or the veil or the Fade whatsoever says this ritual must be stopped At All Costs By Any Means Necessary so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Varric: Solas I will shoot you with Bianca
Solas: ffs stop *breaks Bianca*
Varric: can you promise me your way is better
Solas: i know way better than to make promises like that, have you seen this world???
Varric: GOTCHA, YOU LYING LIAR WHO LIES
Rook: TIIIIIIIIIIIIIMBERRRRRRR
Varric: defo going to attack the guy whose millennia of existence has been centred on this massive magical problem i do not even comprehend a little after waiting ten years to ask a single question about it when he'd already got going *tries to stab Solas*
Solas, feeling everything he's spent all of world history protecting the world from breaking out of jail: turns the dagger and stabs Varric instead
Elgar'nan: >:)
Ghilan'nain: >:)
Solas: oh for fucking FUCK'S SA--*exit, stage Fade Jail*
Blight: >:)
Rook: oops
Neve and Harding: omg this could not possibly be our fault at all, not even a little. it's Solas's fault, the lying liar who lies
Lavellan: i will not murder this stupid child, i will not murder this stupid child, i will not murder this stupid child
Morrigan: we have to help the stupid child
Lavellan: we have to help the stupid child
Morrigan and Lavellan: *look at each other*
Lavellan: when this is over, i stg--
Morrigan, who has millennia of memories of Mythal abusing Solas and decades of Flemythal abusing her: yeah no i will throw you a going away party and take care of Dorian for you and help you get your boyfriend back and no way will i fight him, this is actually ridiculous
Ferelden, Orlais, and the Free Marches, all of whom turned on Lavellan ten years ago: hELP help HELP there's BLIIIIIGHT
Lavellan to Leliana: you owe me a hundred gold
Leliana: *hands over a solid gold nug*
Ferelden: X_X
Orlais: X_X
Free Marches: X_X
Lavellan: *grits teeth* i better go meet with rook
Rook: andaran atish'an, honoured inquisitor
Lavellan: yo. sure would be nice to be meeting without our gods, you know, destroying absolutely everything i've spent a quarter of my life protecting and rebuilding after the last apocalypse but here we are i guess
Morrigan: *smirks at shade*
Northern Thedas: ROOK IS THE BEST
Southern Thedas: is rook tho
Ghilan'nain: muahahaha i have so many drago---nooo you killed my dragons and i am BLEEDING LIKE A MORTAL PIECE OF MORTAL SCUM
Elgar'nan: my dragon used to be bigger :(
Ghilan'nain: your dragon's fine
Elgar'nan: Ghilly, make it bigger again
Ghilan'nain: can't, too sad. blood. :(
Southern Thedas: *throwing nugs at blight* hELP
Lavellan, with half of Southern Thedas crammed into skyhold: thanks for the castle, vhenan, we'd all literally be dead without it, again
Morrigan: erm, Inky? seems everyone's telling Rook Solas is just a big monster lying liar who lies and blaming him for everything
Lavellan: that's what people do, blame Solas. had a bad day? blame Solas. Mythal wants to sever the titans' dreams? Blame Solas. Rashvine nettle sting? Blame Solas. Bring the veil 5/7 or so of the way down themselves after releasing the blight? Blame Solas. Rook let the gods out? Blame Solas
Morrigan: Inky.
Lavellan: you want me to go pour out my heart to the person who imprisoned vhenan and let out Ghilan'nain, Mother of Tentacles, and Elgar'nan "My Dragon is Bigger than Your Dragon" First and Worst of the Evanuris, don't you
Morrigan: yee
Lavellan: FINE but you better spill every ounce of tea you've got on the stupid child before i go because i need to at least make rook squirm a LITTLE
Morrigan: i thought you'd never ask
Elgar'nan: you won't make my dragon bigger??? fine i'll move the moon instead
Northern Thedas: i'm sorry what
Anyone at sea anywhere on the planet: I'M SORRY WHAT
Ghilan'nain: *throws a temper tantrum and dies*
Elgar'nan: >:(
Solas: fuck this shit, i'm getting out of Fade Jail
Rook: :(
Minrathous: fuck fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK
Solas: hello, people who enslaved my people for millennia, i am here to save the day i guess
Minrathous, slapping blight tentacles out of their faces: ...honestly thank you
Solas: wait what
Rook: I ESCAPE FADE JAIL SOLAS YOU BASTARD LYING LIAR WHO LIES
Lavellan: i will not murder the stupid child, i will not murder the stupid child, i will not murder the stupid child
Solas: you know what, fair play, here's the dagger, there's elgar'nan, ima bite his dragon, you go have a great time. have fun storming the blight tentacle
Venatori, poster children for the Leopards Who Eat People's Faces Party: nooo the leopards keep eating our faces
Minrathous: wow who could have possibly predicted that
Everyone else: yes, yes, very sad
Elgar'nan, eating every face in the magesterium and effectively cleansing Tevinter of the worst of its monsters in one fell swoop: ah, rook, you can't kill me, i have the biggest dragon ever to dragon
Dread Wolf: honestly he's kinda not wrong, this dragon is a bastard and i am like a fifth of its size and getting p tired, ngl
Rook's Blighted Companion: welp gonnae put this trauma to use for the greater good. go go gadget blight tentacles, release the Dread Pupper
Elgar'nan: *shocked pikachu*
Dread Wolf: *chomp*
Elgar'nan: *throws a temper tantrum and dies*
Solas: oh ffs finally
Rook: not so fast
Solas: oh ffs here we fucking go
Rook: i don't actually want to fight you
Solas: wait, what
Rook: i think this is all my fault but everyone keeps telling me i'm the hero and that's fucked up. and your vhenan, she's nice to me, no one really else is, i'm just everybody's apocalypse therapist, and i even kinda like you tbh, my whole team basically does fun stuff without me and doesn't even invite me to book club and emmrich's the only one who asks me about my feelings instead of just asking me to do stuff for them, and anyway, i'm going to trust the inquisitor here because i'm honestly starved for connection and she thinks you're worth saving so can we talk i don't wanna fight
Solas: what
Lavellan, out of sight, reliving the litany of "i will not murder this stupid child": oh haha awkward
Solas: look,,, i've been bound to the service of an ancient elvhen god for millennia and everything i do, whether i know it or not, is for her, so i can't do what you want and this sucks
Lavellan: even if i'm here, walking the din'an shiral with you?
Solas: ...vhenan
Lavellan: ;_;
Solas: ;_; ...I cannot
Morrigan: yo dread wolf, my mum's a piece of work and i have all her memories and everything she did to you was fuuuuuuuuucked up, anyway, over to her, honestly not pissed you killed that part of her btw, she reeeeally fucked you up, but rook somehow managed to talk her out of her essence, so that's impressive
Solas: what
Mythal: yeah i kinda tore you out of your home and twisted you from your purpose and made you do murder and worse for me for millennia and said i wanted your wisdom and then never ever listened to you ever and just dragged you through every atrocity i created and perpetuated
Solas: it hurts and i guess you're going to kill me now so here's the dagger ;_;
Mythal: it's still mostly your fault but i was there too i guess, anyway, i release you from my service, which i could have done at any point in the past several millennia but instead I tortured you endlessly, lol god of retribution, that's me. k bye
Solas: what the fucking fuck
Lavellan: right there with you, like literally forever, our love is a miracle and the only thing i can even cope with
Solas: yeah honestly fuck this shit, i'm out, i will put myself in fade jail
Lavellan: you are not going by yourself i stg take me with you i wanna go home
Solas: ...home is a literal prison now
Lavellan: sealed away from all this shit? from getting blamed for everything we do no matter how much we sacrifice? if it's you and me there together, i don't care if it's a grey box full of darkspawn
Solas: there's no darkspa--
Lavellan: ffs i said i want to go, you don't have to sell me on it. you're the only person in this world who Gets It. we go on together, forever.
Solas: *.* my wife
Lavellan: *.* my wolf
Northern Thedas: and rook saved the world from the dread wolf, who was a lying liar who lies
Southern Thedas: *busy being dead and blighted*
Lavellan: yeah, fuck this shit, we're out
#i did not mean to do a chaos retrospective on DAI through veilguard but here we are#soz rook you did indeed fuck up bad but your heart's in the right place in the end#this got away from me a little#rook can sit with us (emmrich can come too)#someone get rook some therapy#actually someone get everyone some therapy#tevinter better be in better shape next time#solavellan#elgar'nan really just took all the trash with him on the way out (and a shit tonne of innocent people too)#veilguard spoilers#solas#solas x female lavellan#da4 spoilers#solas x inquisitor#datv spoilers#fen'harel
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