#they have to look at each other like that at least thirty times a day or they’ll die | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maccreadysbaby · 2 days ago

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Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

aha…. ha… ha… they’re not okay

part thirty

❝ HYPOCRISY ❞

SUNDAY — JULY 29 — 5:11AM

WHEN BENTLEY OPENED HIS EYES ON SUNDAY MORNING, IT WAS REALLY BRIGHT IN HIS BEDROOM. And warm. And the ceiling was really… orange? And weeping willow-y? And his bed didn’t feel like a bed at all?

With a sudden gasp, he sat bolt upright, panic and adrenaline flooding his veins like gasoline and sending a wave of volatile dread seeping through his entire body. His eyes flicked to the golden sunrise, to the fountain, to the grass he was sitting on, to the trees above him, to the building he was supposed to be in, to the Chloe that was laying on the ground next to him.

There was no way he had…

Chloe startled awake at his outburst, her face twisting up in confusion, eyes flicking around just like his had before she shot directly onto her feet. “Oh shit!”

Bentley pushed himself off of the grass, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Oh my God.”

It wasn’t super late in the morning, at least, judging by the dim sunrise. He dug his phone out of his pocket in a panic and, squinting into it, he was extremely relieved to see that he had no texts. It was 5:13am.

Asten was so back at the dorm already.

How had they managed to fall asleep out there? He couldn’t even seem to fathom deciding to sleep on the ground when he wasn’t even supposed to be outside in the first place. All he’d been thinking about the previous night was Chloe and how stressed out her breakdown was making him. He never once thought about going to sleep. And yeah, he’d been pretty tired, but… sleeping there hadn’t even been an option in his mind, yet somehow, he… they…

“How the hell did we fall asleep?!” She half-shouted, whipping her phone out of her pocket and cringing at the screen. “My roommates all knew I was coming out here to meet you! They’re gonna think we slept together!”

Bentley ran an anxious hand through his hair, glancing at her in confusion. “…Didn’t we?”

Chloe looked at him with this absolutely gobsmacked, absolutely appalled look on her face, before she seemed to realize… something. “I’m not even going to begin to explain that to you.”

Bentley had no idea what she was talking about.

“God, I… I’m so sorry, Bentley, I didn’t mean…” Chloe scrolled through something on her phone, her cheeks flushing red, cringe deepening. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s… okay,” He replied, though the fact that he was practically already vibrating from anxiety proved otherwise. He was so dead. Asten was literally going to murder him.

“It’s so not okay! Can you even imagine the rumors that’re going to spread if I don’t shut them up fast enough?!” She basically yelled, tugging at her sort of messed up ponytail. “No, no, no. This is so not how this was supposed to go.”

Did she mean that everyone would think they, like, kissed? Or something? What did that have to do with sleeping next to each other?

When Bentley said nothing, but looked back down at his shoes, she continued: “Your roommates went to that party, right? There’s still a chance they’re not back yet — you should go, now. This is such a disaster…”

“Last time they came back before sunrise…” He trailed off.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, Bentley, I didn’t… and… God,” She ran a hand over her face. “Okay. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine.”

Bentley didn’t say anything just kinda… stood, thinking about how much Asten was going to kill him.

“Hey,” Chloe’s hands were suddenly on his shoulders, and he locked eyes with her, brown on brown. “It’s gonna be fine, just go now before anyone sees. And… and don’t sleep with anyone till you’re married!”

Bentley didn’t say anything to that (because didn't they just sleep together?!), but he did get out of his own head enough to comprehend that he needed to go back to his dorm. Like, yesterday.

So, without a word, he turned, and he went.

He was about halfway there when he realized he didn’t have his keycard.

Which meant someone would have to let him in.

“Shit,” He groaned as he came out of the stairwell on their floor, the sixth floor. He took a quick glance both directions down the long, wainscoted hallway, and when it came back empty, he quietly moved toward their door and whipped his phone out of his pocket.

He tapped on one of his very first contacts. It rang… and it rang…

“Bentley?”

Bentley sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “Hey, Bell… I need you to let me into the dorm without waking anybody up.”

He heard Bellamy exhale. “That won’t be hard. I’m the only one here.”

Bentley creased his brow as he walked up to their room. “What? I’m at the door.”

Hardly a half-second after he spoke, the call ended, the lock clicked, and the door opened. Bellamy was standing on the other side — his hair was sort of messed up, and his big brown eyes were dull and sleepy. He was wearing some blue pajamas that reminded Bentley of the sailboat ones he used to wear.

“Sorry, Bell, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” He cringed as he stepped through the door, kicking it closed behind him.

“S’ okay. I don’t sleep much anyways,” Bellamy replied quietly, shoving his phone in the pocket of his pajama pants. Bentley glanced around the dorm, his gaze landing on all four of the bedroom doors that were just… sitting wide open.

“Where’s Varian? I thought he didn’t go to the party,”

Bellamy shrugged, walking over to the living area and plopping down on one of the couches. “I don’t know. Did you go to the party with them? I thought you were here all night…”

“I’m sorry, I would’ve stayed if I’d have known you’d be by yourself,” Bentley cringed (He was really good at this stuff, wasn’t he?) “But no, I didn’t go to the party — I had to talk to someone.”

Bellamy creased his brow at him. “All night?”

“I fell asleep on accident,” He replied, making his way over to the couch and plopping down next to him. “After I saw what happened to everyone last time they partied, I decided it wasn’t for me.”

Bellamy didn’t say anything, but just kinda looked down at his hands and fiddled with his pajama sleeves. Bentley could hear the little machines whirring beneath them.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned. Bellamy glanced back up at him, looking sort of surprised, but quickly looked back down.

“Nothing,” He muttered.

“Bell…”

“It’s okay, really. I don’t want you to feel bad…” He trailed off, and Bentley sat up a little straighter, turning toward him slightly.

“Feel bad for what?”

“I…” Bellamy started quietly, glancing at Bentley then down at his hands again, tugging at his own sleeves. “I… I had a nightmare and… when I woke up, nobody was here…”

Bentley internally threw himself off a cliff.

Of course Bellamy would. Why wouldn’t he? With Bentley’s relationship with luck, he was surprised his roommates didn’t just straight up die in the middle of the night.

Bentley exhaled heavily, watching as Bellamy continued to pick at his sleeves. “I’m really sorry, Bell. Was it bad?”

Bellamy just kinda looked down at his lap. “The dream wasn’t so bad, but then I got up and no one was here, and…”

There was a familiar little quiver to his voice that made Bentley feel even worse about leaving than he had about Chloe.

Bellamy sniffed lightly, turning away. “It was really scary…”

Bentley sighed lightly, lifting his right arm and draping it loosely round Bellamy’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”

“It wasn’t your fault I had a bad dream,” He shrugged, wiping at his eyes without turning back around. “It just freaked me out, is all. I thought you were at the party and I didn’t want to bother you…”

“You can call me for anything, no matter what I’m doing. I’ll answer — I promise,” Bentley replied, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “I hate that you were by yourself.”

“It’s okay… it really wasn’t a big deal, just… sometimes I can’t tell if I’m awake or asleep, and it made me really scared…” Bellamy continued, and Bentley frowned.

“That’s how a lot of my nightmares are, too,” He replied quietly, with a soft sigh.

Bellamy looked over at him. “I heard that you had one the other night. Was it bad?”

Images flashed through Bentley’s mind in quick succession — Varian bleeding out in Dick’s arms, Rockie getting shot right in front of him, Asten falling off the roof, Nico getting his head beaten in... “Yeah. It was bad.”

“I thought so. I heard you… screaming. But I didn’t know if I was actually awake so I… didn’t come out. I’m sorry…” Bellamy trailed off.

Bentley patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Bell. I wouldn’t have, either.”

Bellamy sniffed again, glancing forward at the floor ahead of them with a few quick blinks, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes.

“Do you want me to do the frogs again? You seem tired,”

“No, that’s okay,” He replied with a small shrug. “I’m not that tired.”

Bentley watched him, observing quietly for a few minutes as his blinks got progressively longer.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked with a soft smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “It’s okay to be tired. I’m tired and I just woke up.”

Bellamy smiled faintly in amusement, glancing over at him for just a split second.

Bentley sighed lightly. “It’s okay, you can go to sleep. I won’t go anywhere — I promise.”

"...are you sure?" Bellamy muttered.

"I'm sure. Unless you'd rather be alone,"

"No. No, being alone is..." Bellamy trailed off, picking at his sleeves. "Scary..."

A beat passed.

"My head hurts,"

Bentley rubbed his shoulder lightly. "Do you want some medicine?"

"No..." He muttered, fiddling with his fingers some more, like he was nervous about something. "Can I just..."

Bentley watched him carefully, but he never spoke again. He just sort of looked down at his lap. "Can you just what?"

Bellamy shrugged and looked away, abandoning his question entirely.

"You can ask. I can already tell you the answer is most likely yes," Bentley replied, earning a faint smile in response.

"I... was going to ask if I could..." Bellamy trailed off, continuing to pick at his sleeves. "If I could maybe..." His eyes flicked down to Bentley's shoulder, and suddenly, he seemed to understand.

"Oh, yeah," He replied immediately. "I'm not gonna say no to that."

“Are you sure?”

Bentley hummed. “Super sure.”

With that, Bellamy settled himself down on the couch and grabbed one of the blankets from the back of it, draping it over himself. Then, with an attentive glance to Bentley, subtly and tentatively moved until the side of his head came to rest on Bentley’s shoulder.

"Sorry if that’s… weird, I just…”

"It’s not weird," Bentley replied, smiling faintly as he adjusted his arm so it was comfortable for both of them. "I've probably spent more time in the last three years sleeping with someone else next to me than alone -- so I don't mind. It's actually nice."

“Oh… okay,”

A few moments of silence passed, and Bellamy settled in farther, adjusting his head against Bentleys shoulder with a quiet sigh. “Y’know, I… think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Bentley said nothing, only glanced at him. By the time he’d managed to work up a response, Bellamy’s eyes were comfortably closed, his breathing had evened out, and the machines on his arms slowed until he could barely hear them anymore.

If Bellamy kept talking like that, Bentley was gonna have to ask Bruce if they could take him home.

—

“-must’ve woken up and came in here,” Was the first thing Bentley’s ears registered when his senses started coming back to him. He was laying somewhere, but it wasn’t his bed. It was…

Oh yeah — the couch, in the living area. He wasn’t sitting up anymore; He seemed to be laying across it, and there was a blanket thrown over him that hadn’t been there before. Bellamy’s presence had all but vanished from his right.

“You think he noticed you were gone?”

“I hope not. He was dead asleep when I left,”

It was Asten and Valor whispering — though Bentley probably wouldn’t have been able to tell in his half-awake state if it weren’t for their opposing accents.

“Are you gonna tell him?” Valor questioned.

“Unless he noticed I was gone, no. I’m not hungover anymore, so it shouldn’t matter,”

He wasn’t hungover, so it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter that literally yesterday Asten had given Bentley a speech about not keeping secrets, and then did something the same night that he planned on keeping secret. (What kind of world was Asten living in where he could just… be all hypocritical like that? Bentley wasn’t allowed but he was?)

Bentley fought the urge to huff dramatically and, instead, stayed eerily still on the couch, pretending to sleep. (He was pretty good at that.)

“You’re welcome, by the way, for being the puke dad again,” Came a third voice, with a distinct Russian lilt.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for waking up and coming to the hangover rescue. Where’s Koa and Rockie?” Valor questioned.

“Koa’s throwing up outside. I think Rockie’s out there with him,”

“Jesus, that kid gets sicker than anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life,” Valor sighed.

“He also gets drunker than anyone else,”

“Because he's obsessed with beer pong. He played it at least thirty times last night,”

Bentley just listened as the voices moved about the dorm, a few doors opening and closing and sounds bouncing around. An unidentifiable amount of time later, the distinct sound of the dorm door opening and closing pierced the air — it must’ve been Koa and Rockie.

A few more voices came and went — small talk, mostly. Bentley didn’t listen because he was too busy being absolutely pissed that Asten had the audacity to be such an arrogant hypocrite after he made Bentley cry about it the day before.

Eventually, the voices faded into the other rooms, and the dorm went quiet again.

Bentley, extraordinarily angry but not mean enough to disturb everyone’s sleep, forced himself back to bed on the couch.

He’d talk to Asten later.

Later came sooner than he wanted it to… but at the same time, took all too long to come around.

He shuffled back into his and Asten’s bedroom at nearly eleven in the morning. The dorm was practically dead — not a soul had come out into the living area since they’d all returned earlier. Part of him kind of wanted to cry (because he couldn’t be mad like a normal person.) and the other part of him wanted to, like, burn something down.

For now, he decided to find somewhere in the middle to float.

He went into his and Asten’s room, kicking the door closed behind him and glancing at the top bunk. Asten was laying up there under his blankets, but his arms and phone were sticking out, and his screen was on, signaling that he was awake.

“Hey, B,” He greeted casually. “Why were you in the living room?”

Bentley breathed in and out, staving down some of the anger that threatened to make him, like, yell. “Bellamy had a nightmare. We were both in there, but he left,” He replied curtly.

He pulled his desk chair out and sat on it, then heard Asten shift, as though he were trying to look at him from his bed. He must’ve given up because his head never appeared from under the covers.

“I didn’t hear you leave,”

Was he seriously trying to make Bentley think he was home all night?

Bentley shrugged with a short huff. “Not sure you could hear the door from Mason’s house, anyway.”

Asten’s head did pop out, then, and he sat up on the bed. “Did-“

“I’m not stupid, Asten. I was awake when you left, and I was awake when you were telling Valor you weren’t gonna tell me,” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the hell?”

Asten didn’t say anything, but worked his way off the top bunk and sat on Bentley’s instead, crossing his arms. He looked tired, like he’d just woken up, but sort of offended at the same time. “Not everything I do is your business, B.”

Bentley narrowed his eyes at him, wanting nothing more than to set his hair on fire. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie,” Asten scoffed.

“Well, you didn’t tell me the truth,” Bentley spat, leaning back in the chair. “There’s no gray area between an honest person and a liar.”

“What-“

“You just gave me an entire spiel over keeping secrets just to go and keep secrets. So what, you’re allowed to but I’m not? I’m supposed to let it slide when you do it, but you’re allowed to get upset at me? Sounds pretty hypocritical,” Bentley hissed. Asten’s eyes went cold again, his expression darkening.

“You have to tell me where you’re going because you’re an innocent little nepobaby who’s naivety will get you killed,” Asten spat back. “You don’t know half the shit that goes on in this world — I do.”

“… So, because you had a shitty life, the rules don’t apply?” Bentley asked, tapping his fingers on his arms. “You’re allowed to go do whatever you want and expect me to just sit here at your command like a dog?”

“I’m trying to protect you,”

“Bullshit. That just sounds good. If you were actually trying to protect me, you wouldn’t leave the three youngest roommates in the dorm overnight just to go get drunk out of your mind,” Bentley was practically fuming at the ears, but he made doubly sure not to raise his voice too loud. “I wouldn’t even care about you going out and getting wasted if you’d just tell me first!”

Asten rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Why’s it such a big deal all of a sudden?”

“It was a big deal to you yesterday,” Bentley replied. “But I guess that doesn’t matter, since you’re a hypocrite and all.”

Asten was glaring daggers. “Bentley.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He ordered, locking eyes with Asten and forcing them to stay there no matter how uncomfortable it was. “You said something. You did the opposite. Tell me you’re not a hypocrite.”

Asten was pissed — Bentley could tell. He had this cold sort of feeling that radiated from him when he was really mad; one that would make passersby afraid he was gonna punch them if they got too close. He opened his mouth to reply, but Bentley beat him to it.

“I may be younger than you, but you can’t walk all over me anymore. You helped train that into me,” Bentley muttered. “So if you’re allowed to go do whatever you want whenever you want without telling me, so am I.”

“Bentley-“

“And I’ll start by telling you, now that it’s convenient for me, that I snuck out of the dorm and stayed with a girl last night. All night,”

Asten’s horrendously-pissed-and-angry face cracked a little to reveal something like disbelief, and vaguely, shock. “Yeah, sure you did.”

“Unlike you, I’m not a liar. Ask Bellamy, he had to let me back in this morning. Or you can consult my call history and find where I asked him to let me in,” Bentley replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tossing it on the desk with a bam! “Or maybe you can dwell on the fact that I was sleeping in the living room in different clothes than I went to bed in?”

Asten didn’t say anything, but his mouth was open, like he was debating on it.

Then he huffed deeply, like he was really irritated. “Who was it?”

“Not everything I do is your business,” Bentley mocked, rising from the desk chair and pushing it in, grabbing his phone and shoving it back in his pocket. “I’m done arguing with a wall.”

“Where are you going?” Asten asked as Bentley approached the door.

He swung it open, glancing back at Asten just long enough to say: “Maybe I’ll tell you when it’s convenient.”

Then he left their room, and he left their dorm, going nowhere in particular.

Everything in high school was bullshit.

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

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f1-stuff · 2 years ago

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.🥹.

#they have to look at each other like that at least thirty times a day or they’ll die #also I’m sorry but may i PLS draw everyone attention to the swoop of hair behind Charles’ ear!!!#I am loving this phase of his hair growing out #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #charlos #Australian GP ‘23 #2023

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spencerreidenjoyer · 3 months ago

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like the back of my hand | spencer reid x reader

wc: 1.8k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: needy!spencer, boyband reid loml, porn without plot, established relationship, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, mindless pwp tbvh....

a/n: had this one sitting in my google docs for a while so I finally decided to clean it up and post it. was worried about there not being any plot/story to this but my lovely friend meggie encouraged me to just send it. ily <3

You mean this with so much love, but Spencer Reid is needy.

To be fair to him, he is a twenty-eight year old who recently lost his virginity to you, but how eager he is to initiate sex is staggering.

You’re lying in bed together at the end of a long day, both you and Spencer enjoying the quiet time to wind down. He’s finally home after a gruelling week away from you, all the way in Los Angeles to catch another serial killer. The nice thing about being with Spencer and getting to know him so intimately so quickly is that you feel so in tune with each other – both of you comfortable and content cuddling in bed and soaking in each other’s presence.

You’re sitting up against the headboard of the bed on your phone, while Spencer lays his head in your lap. You usually don’t pick up on things like this, but Spencer’s flipping through the pages of his book much slower than usual – which is still much faster than the pace at which you read, but it still has you concerned.

Your fingers run through his hair, fluffy and messy from having air-dried. “You okay, baby?”

“Hmm?” Spencer hums, sounding rather distracted.

“Something on your mind? You’re reading much slower than you usually do.”

Spencer looks up at you, blinking. His eyes are wide and puppylike, and you want to kiss him. Yet, his answer skillfully avoids your question. “I thought I was the one who usually keeps track of that sort of thing.”

“Well, yeah, but I couldn’t help but notice it. What’s up?”

Spencer sits up, looking away from you for just a moment as he considers what he should say. Then, “I wanna have sex.”

Your eyes grow wide, amused with his bluntness. Spencer usually is a little more self-conscious, a little more socially awkward, but all that seems to go away when he’s asking you to fuck. His one-track mind is fixated on you, especially when he wants you. You’re amused – he’s pushing thirty but he sounds like a monkey-brained college student when it comes to sex.

“Well, romance me first, then,” You say, giving in all too easily, because you often can’t say no to Spencer. Spencer smiles, his stupidly large hand cupping your face, and he leans in to kiss you. It’s sweet, romantic even in the mundanity of your current situation, and you hum as Spencer kisses you deeply.

Spencer’s other hand trails around your waist, sliding down to grab your ass. You squeal against his lips. He hums, satisfied, pulling you close, grabbing whatever he can get his hands on. You laugh, “Needy.”

“Have you been romanced enough yet?” Spencer smirks, eager for you and your approval. He kisses your jawline, down your neck, like he can’t pull himself away from you.

You shrug. “I think you need to touch me more.”

Spencer’s brows raise curiously. “Now that I can do.”

Spencer cups your breast through your shirt, touching you all over with a reverence, an adoration, a desire that has your cheeks feeling warm. He leans in to press his lips to your neck, practically ravenous as he kisses down the column of your neck.

You’re turned on already, Spencer’s eagerness making you hot under the collar. You feel his hands roam over your body, making you feel special, wanted, desired. You don’t necessarily feel sexy in your oversized t-shirt and sweats, but the way Spencer kisses you makes you feel like you are – or at least, you are to him.

“Spencer,” you gasp against his lips, as you feel his hands slide underneath your shirt, his calloused hands on your skin, the slight roughness of his fingers making your hair stand on end as he touches you. Spencer flicks his thumbs over your nipples, gropes you just a little. It makes you moan.

Then, Spencer’s hands slide down to your waistband, and he looks up at you for your approval. You nod, shuddering when the cool pads of his fingers press against the warmth of your skin, dipping past your sweatpants and underwear. You sigh, as Spencer easily pushes them off. You get comfortable with the pillows behind you, Spencer easily making his way between your legs.

He kisses your thighs reverently, the slight stubble on his chin and his lips on your sensitive skin feeling ticklish. Still, Spencer’s hands are firm on your legs, firm in holding them apart. You shudder as you feel Spencer’s breath on your skin. He’s so gentle with you it makes you feel lightheaded.

“Spencer,” you moan, when he wraps his lips around your sensitive clit. You’re so wet already, heightened by the feeling of Spencer’s mouth on you. You watch his jaw flex as he laps at you, mouth moving as he eats you out sweetly. It’s almost ritualistic, the way his eyes flutter shut, the hypnotised trance he enters as he goes down on you.

You wouldn’t say you had a high sex drive, at least not until you met Spencer. Spencer didn’t seem like the kind of guy either, his nerdy, slightly awkward exterior making you very quick to assume that he would be a little awkward with sex. And sure, he was, when you first slept together, but now that he’s absolutely comfortable with you, he’s unashamed in wanting sex – wanting you. And his brazenness turns you on, which leads to the two of you fucking a lot.

You dig your nails into his scalp as Spencer flicks his tongue over your sensitive, hard clit, his motions relentless, eager, wanting to push you over the edge. You cry out with pleasure, watching the way he eats you out with a sense of pride, proud that he’s just so into it.

You feel his hot breath on your cunt, hear his quiet moans as he pleasures you. You watch as he grinds against the mattress, just slightly, using the friction to get himself off too.

“Darling– Baby, can- Can I fuck you?” Spencer’s voice is muffled against your cunt. He sounds desperate, needy, distracted like he can’t take his mind off of it.

You whine, pushing your thighs to squeeze his face just slightly, like you can’t bear to let him go. You feel Spencer’s tongue retreat, missing the warmth on your pussy, and then he’s coming back up for air. His face is wet with your slick, and his big, wide eyes are staring up at you. “Please?”

You pout slightly. You can’t deny him, not when he looks like that.

You tsk, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. You better fuck me as good as you eat me out.”

“I will! I will,” Spencer answers enthusiastically, eager as he fumbles with his pants. When his cock bobs up against his stomach, you giggle, amused with how eager he is for this– for you.

“Oh, you want me so bad,” you tease, unable to stop the grin on your face.

Spencer smiles, sheepish. “I do. So badly, baby.” He cages you in, his tall frame making you feel so small, and his curly hair is messy and all over the place when he leans forward to press his lips to yours.

You whimper when he kisses you hard, eager and needy, and all you taste on his lips is you. Still, the way he makes out with you is dizzying, so intensely hot, and you don’t even care that you taste yourself as he practically eats your face.

“Spence– Baby–” You barely get the words out between Spencer’s mouth on yours, but you wrap your legs around his waist and try and pull him closer to you, hoping that his horned-up brain will get the message. The motion bumps his cock against your soaking-wet cunt, and the both of you shudder at the sensation.

With his lips kissing down your jaw, your neck, Spencer rocks his hips against you, sliding his cock along your wet folds, your hole leaking slick to make everything even more messy. His tip bumps against your swollen clit over and over, as he ruts against you like a horny teenager instead of actually fucking you. The friction is delicious, so good, but not what you or him actually need right now.

You groan. “Sweetheart, come on–”

“Mm?” Spencer hums, distracted. He’s never had this short of an attention span, but you suppose pussy tends to slash his genius.

“Fuck me,” You bite, no malice in your voice. “Properly.”

“Okay, yeah, okay,” Spencer mumbles, only pulling away from you to look down at where your bodies are pressed together. He grips his cock before pressing himself against your entrance, his hands shaking with his eagerness to touch you. Spencer slides in with relative ease, considering how wet you are, and you whimper as the thick head of his cock pushes inside of you.

Spencer kisses your cheek sweetly as he presses inside of you, the slow drag of his cock against your walls so perfect. He fills you up perfectly, feeling like he’s made for you.

He fucks you hard and fast and messy, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you downright obscene. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into pounding into you, desperate to make both of you feel good. When Spencer gets like this, you know he’ll stop at nothing to get there.

Every one of Spencer’s thrusts hits deep inside of you, making you feel so damn full. Your arms come around to cling onto him, shaking with the force of his thrusts. “Spence–! Baby, oh, fuck!”

He grunts, a needy little noise, panting in your ear. “You’re so tight. Oh, you– You feel so good, please–”

You sob as he fucks into you hard, unrelenting, so eager to make you feel good while he chases his own pleasure. His brows are furrowed in concentration, sweat beading at his temple, and his gorgeous hair is in his eyes, bouncing with each hard thrust.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer rambles, in between fucking you and kissing you literally everywhere, like he can’t get his lips off of you. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”

“You only say that when you’re inside of me,” you laugh breathily, clearly joking.

Spencer grumbles, a low sound in the back of his throat. His mouth stays on your neck, and you feel his teeth graze against your skin. You feel him suck a spot into the column of your neck. “Don’t say that. I always tell you that I love you.”

“You do,” you giggle, holding him close, running your hand through his hair. “You always tell me how pretty I am too, don’t you?”

“You’re breathtaking,” Spencer says, sounding a little winded, since the only form of cardio he gets is sex with you. “Literally.”

“Okay, I love you so much, but I don’t know if your puns make for great pillow talk, honey,” you smile, kissing his cheek. “Now make me cum, love.”

Spencer grins, absolutely smitten by you. “Yes, ma’am.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem reader

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harryspet · 30 days ago

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lonely little lamb | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!stepbrother!rafe x stepsister!reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader, dd/lg dynamic, mentions of violence/blood, somnophilia, stalker!rafe, DUBCON, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: happy OBX4! This was written before the new season :) Dividers by @/ghoulbloggerrr

In which Rafe knows your secret and just how perfect you'd be together.

word count: 7.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe didn’t catch on immediately. At first, he just thought you were strange, his expectations already tainted by what he'd assumed about you. He’d been prepared for his stepmother’s daughter to be a brat, and on the surface, you fit that mold perfectly. But there was something off about the way you acted around him. You never played innocent, never tried to charm him or win him over like you did with everyone else. You gave him sharp glances at the dinner table when he talked back to Ward and even angrier stares when he disrespected your mother. You never hung around after dinner, always rushing to go back to your room, and “call your friends from back home”. Of course, Rafe listened at your door often and he never heard you making any calls. Having grown up in the house, he felt entitled to know what was happening within its walls.

Your behavior puzzled Rafe to the point of obsession. He woke up every morning to check if your car was still in the driveway and easily memorized your schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you attended classes in the morning at the local community college. On the other days of the week you sat through your online classes. You never ate too early, always going for a late breakfast that usually consisted of avocado toast, a bowl of fruit, and you always came down to refill your “sippy cup”. That’s what Rafe had dubbed it. It was clear, decorated with a stencil design of a baby lamb and had a flip-up spout for easy drinking. You didn’t go many places without it.

It was the small things that fascinated him. The comfort items you clung to, the simple routines that made your life feel organized and secure. You usually took a bubble bath about thirty minutes after dinner, and when you forgot to lock your door, Rafe would slip into your room, drawn by the intimacy of your private world.

He picked up items around your room, like the frame you kept beside your bed. It held a photo of you and your mom: you in your old high school cheerleading uniform, hair pinned back in pigtails, while your mom smiled widely beside you. Despite her cheerful expression, your eyes in the picture looked wistful and lonely. Rafe couldn’t help but imagine you now, with adult curves and eager eyes, wearing that outfit. The thought stirred something in him, making him hard, and he had to tuck himself away, cursing under his breath. At least if you walked in, he wouldn’t be caught in the act.

The more he learned about you, the harder it was to quiet these thoughts. He had always found you pretty, but now his body and mind were becoming obsessed with you. He made a habit of collecting a pair of your panties from the hamper before leaving. He needed them for later, for the release that he craved, driven mad by the scent of you.

The sound of soft, melodic music flowed into your bedroom from behind the bathroom door. Sometimes it was girly pop songs, other times classical, but more often than not, it had the gentle, soothing quality of nursery music. Your bed was always neatly made, draped in a floral quilt, and you kept the same stuffed animals on top, meticulously placed. A small chesnut brown teddy bear, white bunny, and a tiny stuffed lamb. Each one had their own white ribbon wrapped around its neck, tied into a bow.

One time he caught a glimpse of your nighttime skin care routine. You removed the light makeup you always wore and used about ten different products that Rafe didn’t recognize, nor could he guess their use. The last layer was always a light layer of lip balm and Rafe always leaned a bit closer when your puckered your lips in the mirror. His mind easily wandered to idea of your lips around him.

You wouldn’t look so lonely, little lamb, if you just let me in.

He had his suspicions about the secret, kinky things you were into. There had to be a reason you spent so much time by yourself. He didn’t get the answers he was looking for until one night when you’d left your laptop, unlocked on your desk. He took the opportunity to program his fingerprint into it too, just in case he needed to snoop again.

He combed through your social media, public and private, and started checking your messages daily, keeping track of who you talked to, what you were up to. Your public social media was perfect. A mix of selfies with soft lighting, photos of cute coffee shops, and other things you deemed as your “aesthetic”.

It was your camera roll that finally gave Rafe the answers he had been searching for. One folder, marked with a delicate pink heart, caught his attention immediately. Inside were photos of you, taken in front of your floor-length mirror. Each picture was eerily similar, the same vacant, wide-eyed expression on your face, as though you were lost in some faraway place.

You wore pajamas he’d never seen before, soft and childlike. Sometimes it was pastel-colored footie pajamas, other times it was nightgowns in soft shades of pink, lavender, or baby blue. In a few, you were bundled up in fuzzy socks or slippers with floppy bunny ears. Your hair was always styled with bows, either pink or white. There was a strange innocence in these details, one that clashed with the tension building inside Rafe as he scrolled through the images.

Sometimes you were biting down on your nails, others your thumb rested in your mouth, but most of the time you were gripping one of your stuffed animals tight to your chest.

You looked...adorable. But in a way that made Rafe’s pulse quicken with something darker. The softness, the vulnerability you displayed in those photos, fed his obsession.

Another folder marked with a unicorn emoji held more photos that you’d saved. He recognized some of the characters from children’s TV shows he remembered Wheezie watching. Others were pictures from Disney movies, and Rafe quickly realized you had a special preference for the princesses. You seemed drawn to Cinderalla, Belle, and Snow White. It offered a glimpse into your mind, into your fantasies, how you were drawn to things with an air of purity and sweetness.

Rafe’s heart slowed when a message popped up from someone named Mr. Hayes. Been thinking about you all day, sweetheart. The message said. A moment later, another one came. How was ur bath?

Rafe opened the text thread and began to scroll. Each word that he read made his blood boil. There were too many messages for him to read. You’d sent him photos of yourself, let him call you pet names, and you’d even gone so far as calling him… Daddy. He’d never sent you a photo but that didn’t seem to matter. You were willing to share the details of your life with him.

Rafe’s vision blurred with rage. Daddy. This virtual fantasy, a stranger who you didn’t even know, did not deserve your affection. He decided then you were his, whether you knew it or not.

Rafe decided then to also make it a habit to check your messages.

Several weeks later, you’d finally convinced Mr. Hayes to meet you in person. Rafe couldn’t let that happen. As your stepbrother and your protector, it would be wrong of him to let some stranger hurt you. Besides, he’d become obsessed to the point where now he was dying to know exactly who this man was.

You didnd’t know any better, but he did.

“Hey,” Rafe spoke to you the afternoon before your secret rendevouz, interrupting your fruit cutting, “My Dad just texted. Him and your Mom aren’t going to make it back tonight. There flight keeps getting delayed so they’re going to stay the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, okay,” You replied simply, returning back to your task again.

“Wheezie’s sleeping at a friends and I’m probably going to a party at Kelce’s,” You gave him a look, as if it was strange to be conversating with him alone without the presence of the rest of their blended family, “...Do you want to come? It’ll be fun.”

You shook your head, “No, thank you. I’ll just stay in.”

Rafe leaned on the marble countertop, staring across the kitchen island at you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you go out one time since you moved in.”

Rafe’s sudden interest in your habits had become more noticeable lately, but you figured it was nothing, just him being Rafe, always lurking in the background, watching everyone, everything. Your mother had warned you that she thought something was off about him and living with him over the past nine months had sealed the fact that you didn’t trust him.

You didn’t trust many people at all, actually, never having had a stable home life. Your mother had always had money, or at least latched on to men who had money, but those men came and went. Even your mother wasn’t someone you could count on. She’d uprooted your life more than once, moving you across states just to be with a man who could give her the lifestyle she believed she deserved.

Mr. Hayes had offered you comfort in this transitional time. You had no one to confide your secret in accept for the communities you found online. It made you anxious to even think about finding a partner one day and having to explain this side of you. Friends on the internet wouldn’t judge you.

But online, the stakes felt lower. The people you spoke with, people like Mr. Hayes, didn’t judge. The risk of being truly seen, and rejected, was something you couldn’t handle. Not yet.

You paused what you were doing, knife hovering over a piece of strawberry, “You really want to spend the night alone. On a Friday night?”

Rafe sauntered around the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made a shiver run down your spine. He knew he was handsome. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes that always had a raging storm behind them. His gold ring and his gold watch. Most important of all, he knew he intimidated you, his size being enough to make you feel smaller than you actually were.

“I have to study,” You spoke curtly, trying to cut off the line of questioning you sensed was coming. You moved to keep cutting up your fruit but you paused again when Rafe reached out to grab a piece from the cutting board. You looked up at him as he popped the piece of strawberry into his mouth.

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe’s lips pulled into a smirk, as if he was thriving on that power, the uncpoken tension in the air. The way he could make your heart race in that mix of fear and something else he knew you’d never admit.

“Oh yeah?” Rafe placed a hand on the counter, “You have all weekend to study. C’mon, have some fun, princess.”

You took in a breath at the sound of the pet name. He hadn’t ever called you that before and for a moment it looked like he was seeing right through you.

“I-” Quickly, you turned your head away, refocusing on the task, as your cheeks heated with embarrassment, “I’m okay, thanks.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to come out,” Rafe continued, his voice smooth, almost coaxing, “You got secret plans or something?”

“No,” You said quickly, “I told you, I’m studying.”

Rafe let out a dry chuckle, no real amusement behind it, “You sure you’re not just hiding?”

“It’s not your business,” You snapped finally, your tone icy, “And I… I don’t have to explain myself to you, Rafe. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you, princess,” You dropped the knife, your heart beating too fast, and you quickly picked up your pieces of fruit and placed them in your bowl. Rafe leaned closer, watching your every move, and the intensity of his gaze was starting to unravel you, “You’re so jumpy. It’s just me. No need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” You muttered but your fingers trembled as you grabbed ahold of your bowl of fresh fruit and your lamb cup.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Rafe took another step closer and you backed away from the counter.

“Stop it,” Your frustration flared, unsure of why exactly Rafe was trying to stir you up. Your lips pressed together and you tried to stop your reaction, but with him towevering over you, invading your space, you felt effectively suffocated. It wasn’t until your back was pressed into the stainless steal fridge, your bowl the only thing protecting you from being pushed against Rafe, that you actually flinched.

“Hey,” Rafe lifted on arm, casually bracing his hand on top of the fridge as he looked down at you, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You swallowed hard. His voice was deceptively gentle, “Rafe–”

“I’m not trying to scare you, I promise,” Something flickered in his eyes, something you didn’t recognize, and for a moment, you questioned if you’d read this entire situation correctly, “I know how fragile you are. How scary the world can seem. I’m offering …you know …because I’d be there to protect you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

You blinked up at him. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of him trying to talk down to you. Rafe Cameon almost sounded caring. “You don’t need to be so on guard all the time,” Rafe continued.

“I just …” You couldn’t stop the way your voice softened, “I like keeping to myself. It’s not that I don’t want to be around people. I just don’t …fit in here.”

Rafe nodded, his expression understanding, and it was the first time you looked at one another as real people, “I get it. You’re not like the other girls around here. You’re smarter, quieter … softer. You can trust me though, yeah? You don’t gotta hide from me.”

For a moment, everything felt like it would be okay. Maybe Rafe had managed to see you and was willing to understand you, unlike anyone else you had met on this island. It all felt real until you focused more on his eyes. Your expression had softened, melted from frustration to wide-eyed curiosity, and that had caused a shift in his eyes. You saw that flicker of darkness that you’d seen before.

“I can look after you, ya’ know?” He said, voice dripping to a lower tone, “Help you. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Before you could respond, his other arm lifted, and you felt his fingers graze your cheek, the touch startlingly intimate.

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Rafe’s jaw tightened, the mask he was wearing beginning to slip, “Don’t be like that, princess.”

“Stop,” You managed to say, “Stay away from me.”

In just a few hours, you’d finally get to meet Mr. Hayes. None of Rafe’s games would matter then. When you went silent, you watched as Rafe’s hand balled into a fist and he turned his body away.

“Suit yourself,” He’d said coldly, his void devoid of any of the warmth that was there before.

You stared down at your bowl of fruit dumbfounded for a moment too long. Princess. How did Rafe know how desperately you wanted someone to call you that?

Rafe stayed at Kelce’s party until eleven He finished his last pabst blue ribbon, said goodbye to only a handful of his friends, before he made his way to his truck. Knowing they would find it strange for him to leave so early, he mad the excuse that he was going to meet up with a girl at the Island Club.

In reality, Rafe was headed twenty minutes away, towards Winward Beach. Mr. Hayes wanted to meet you at midnight. One of the many red flags Rafe assumed you had ignored. You probably thought it was romantic, meeting at a secluded beach in the middle of the night. Like the two of you were fucking Romeo and Juliet.

Stupid, Rafe thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Rafe parked his car in the small parking lot that sat near the boardwalk, turning off all of his lights, and waited for the creep to show up first. Rafe thought for a moment that neither of you might show when midnight started to approach. Maybe you’d wisened up, listened to your gut instinct that told you something wasn’t right. He didn’t believe it for long, you were too trusting. Too soft.

When a tan sedan that Rafe didn’t recognize pulled up in a parking spot close to the walkway, Rafe knew who it was. In the dark and without any streetlights, he only saw a dark figure carrying a backpack make his way towards the beachwalk. He waited until the figure made it halfway before he climbed out of his truck.

The moon was high, casting a white glow over the empty landscape.

Anger simmered beneath Rafe’s skin as he watched the man from a safe distance. He moved with a nervous energy, often glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting to see someone. Wooden planks creaked softly under his weight but Mr. Hayes didn’t notice, not until he’d made it to the beach, and Rafe appeared behind him.

The man turned his head, eyes wide with confusion. For a moment, this was all a coincidence. Rafe was a nobody, just a stranger taking a walk on the beach, until Rafe’s lips pulled into a smile, “Not what you were expecting?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Mr. Hayes was certainly not what Rafe was expecting. A completely unremarkable middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his thinning brown hair, pale skin, lightly freckled and a slight paunch that rested over the waistband of his dreams. A complete creep. Someone completely undeserving of even being looked at by you.

Anger wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Rafe was feeling, “You’re Mr. Hayes?”

“What?” Up close, Rafe could see the way the man's eyes started to dart around. He took another step further and the man stumbled back in the thick sand, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just–”

“You’re just a coward?” Rafe finished, his tone mocking, “I mean, I understand now why you hid your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

Rafe interrupted again, snarling, his hand lashing out to grab the front of the man’s shirt. He yanked him forward and the man’s eyes went wild with panic, “Meeting up with an innocent girl in the middle of the night? Sneaking around like a creep? What’s in that fucking bag?”

“Nothing!” Mr. Hayes struggled. Rafe couldn’t believe how weak the man was. Strong enough to overpower you, maybe, but weak. As soon as the though of this man pinning you down in the sand crossed his mind, Rafe’s eyes went wild, “Nothing, I’m sorry!”

Rafe shoved him hard and the man stumbled backwards into the sand. He towered over the man, his shadow casting long across the beach. Waves crashed loudly in the background but Rafe’s voice boomed over the sound, “I don’t think you are! You probably thought you could just take what you wanted, huh? Fucking answer me!”

The man scrambled backwards, hands digging into the sand, backward hanging awkwardly from his shoulder. Why didn’t he just drop it …if he wasn’t hiding anything, he would let it go, “I wasn’t — I didn’t mean, I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know what? That she was half your age? That she was too good for you?” Rafe’s lip curled in disgust. He knelt down, his face inches from Mr. Hayes’s as his voice dropped to a whisper, “She’s not yours. She never will be.”

“Okay,” He nodded, holding out a hand as if to put distance between them, “I just wanted to meet her. I know I lied. I’m sorry. I won’t …it won’t happen again. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”

Rafe’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at the trembling man. Without another word, he grabbed for the backpack. The man resisted, of course, a series of “Wait, wait, wait,” leaves his lips. Rafe doesn’t leave space to argue because he pushed his palm into the man’s chest, pinning him down, before he lets his fist connect with the side of the man’s face.

The man gasps, whimpers, as he curls into a ball on the sand, “F-Fuck!” The creep moans. Rafe pulls away the bag, ripping open the zipper, and dumping the contents onto the sand.

A cheap blanket, a cheap bottle of wine, and then Rafe’s eye catches on the condoms and then then the thick, coiled string of rope. Without another thought, Rafe was tackling the man, grabbing a hold of his collar, pulling him up and slamming his head into the ground over and over again. Rafe didn’t stop. He slammed his fist into the man’s face harder and harder. Each blow left a sickening crack echoing in the air.

Crack. Groan of pain. Crack. Whimper, “You though you could hurt her? Touch what’s not yours? Brutalize her?” Rafe snarled, voice low and vicious. When the man finally went unconscious, his body limp, face bloody and unrecognizable, “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s chest heaved as he stared down at his work. Nothing about the blood and broken flesh bothered him. He looked down at his hand which were covered in the man’s blood and only felt satisfied.

He’d protected you. His pulse spiked even more as he heard footsteps on the boardwalk. You’d shown up. Rafe watched you kick off flip flops and run towards them. No matter how dark it was, you were easily visible in the baby pink dress you’d chosen. The contrast between you and the violent seen before you sente a surge of protectiveness through him. He stood from where he knelt in the sand and quickly crossed the distance towards you.

You slowed as you took in the scene before you, “Rafe?” you whispered, “Rafe, what’s … that’s not …oh my god.”

Rafe grabbed you by your arms, turning your shaking body away. It was a gruesome mess, nothing you should have to see, “He’s dead,” You spoke with wide, terrified eyes, “Wh-Why? You killed him.”

“He’s not dead,” Rafe said quickly, “He’s still breathing … I had to stop him.”

You didn’t listen, you turned your head and saw the unnatural position the man laid in, “Rafe, he’s dead!”

Rafe shook you slightly, “He’s not. I promise.”

“What did you do?” You cried, tears beginning to stream down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He tried to assure you, “I had not. He was going to hurt you, Y/N. Look, he brought …he brought all that shit with him. There was rope in his bag, condoms … I did this for you!”

You shook your head, trying to pull away from Rafe’s bloody hands, “You beat him?” Your voice broke under the weight of your fear, “He’s not moving. You can’t …why would you–”

Rafe’s heart twisted in his chest. He wasn’t the one you were supposed to be afraid of, “He deserved it,” Rafe said, voice quiet and serious, “C’mon, we need to get out of here.”

Rafe tried to pull you but you resisted. Easily, he lifted you into his arms, bloody hands staining your skin and now your dress, “We have to call someone!” You shouted at him, hiccuping through your tears, “Rafe, put me down!”

Rafe ignored you, strides long and steady, carrying you back towards the beachwalk. It was better for Mr. Hayes if the police weren’t involved. Undoubtely, a man like that had a record. Rafe was doing him a favor by only leaving him bloody on the beach.

In his arms, you were powerless. Your mind was reeling. Even in his bloody state, you knew the man there was not who Mr. Hayes had described himself as. Rafe could be right about all of this but it still felt wrong.

In Rafe’s truck, you sat curled up against the door, your knees pulled to your chest. A dark and empty road stretched before you, yacht rock played at a low volume in the background, and Rafe’s heavy breathing was louder than any of your thoughts.

Every few minutes, you stole a glance at him. The tension had yet to leave his body, though he was coming down from the adrenaline. His breathing was heavy but deliberate, as if he was attempting to calm himself, “I didn’t want you to see that, you know that, right?” Rafe said suddenly, breaking through the heavy silence, “Like …I know that was fucked up. You believe me, right? About what I said?”

Your throat tightened so much that your words came out strangled, “I don’t know … what to believe.”

“He was going to hurt you. If I hadn’t stepped in — If I-I hadn’t acted proactively, he would’ve hurt you. He would be hurting you right now. You know that, right?” The brutality of Mr. Hayes’s alleged actions began to cloud Rafe’s actions. He said it over and over. You couldn’t help that now you were imagining it. Maybe this was the only way to rationalize the situation. Maybe you had to believe him.

You saw the items in the sand. You saw that he’d lied about his age, about his appearance, and his intentions. He was the monster. That was the better version. Everything was a lot less wrong that way.

“Y/N,” Rafe spoke again, his deep voice rattling your ear drums, “You know that.”

You finally nodded, “Okay,” You agreed.

“Good,” Rafe seemed to let out a breath of relief. Hands still tight on the steering wheel, he tilted his head back, “He wasn’t some innocent guy. I swear that to you. Like I wouldn’t lie about that shit.”

You nodded until your head started to hurt.

“I did this for you,” Rafe said, “I’m so fucking glad you’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” You whispered as you wiped the wetness from your cheeks. Your eyes caught on the dried blood that wrapped around in a band on your arm, “...Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” Rafe voice turned gentler as he glanced over at you.

“Did you …look at my messages?”

Rafe’s demeanor grew casual, like the worst of his anxieties had passed, “I did what I had to do,” He said, like it was a simple explanation. He didn’t seem concerned at his obvious breach of privacy. Didn’t seem to understand that the pit in your stomach was deepening.

“Then you…”

“Then I know,” He finished and you watched a sinister smile pull at his lips, “Aren’t you relieved? I know and I’m not judging you. I’ve been wanting to figure you out since I met you. And now there’s no secrets between us.”

“Rafe…” You began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “How could you?”

“I had to,” He insisted, “If I hadn’t, where would you be now? What if he had taken you? Killed you? What would that do to your mom?”

Your brows furrowed, trying to process his words, and the vile images that left in your mind, “The stuff on my phone is …private. It’s private for a reason. I don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” He countered, offering you a patronizing tone, “I know what you want, what you need. I’m happy to give you that. And I’d do a hell of better job than that waste of life on the beach.”

You connected the dots the moment those words left his lips. He wanted to be what Mr. Hayes had been to you. A caretaker. Someone to nurture your most innocent idea.

“Rafe … Ward is married to my mom,” The most logical reason that was a crazy idea came to your mind quickly.

“So?” He replied dismissevly.

“You’re my stepbrother,” Not even that registered with him, “I don’t think …it’s not what I want.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Rafe reached across the console, gently but firmly grabbing ahold of your hand. You stared back at him with wide eyes, your fear obvious especially when he took his eyes off the road, “You’re confused. You were willing to trust a man on the internet when the perfect person to take care of you is right here with you. No one else. Me.”

Feeling trapped, your next thought became calming him down. For fear of him crashing the car or never loosening his grip, you forced your expression to soften, “I know you can protect me,” You nodded your head, “And thank you for that …I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was stupid. I’m …I’m glad you care about me like that.”

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, “Yeah?”

“It’s just a lot to take in. I had no idea …I just thought you were usually annoyed with me,” You said and rafe seemed to exhale, his shoulders loosening, “I trust you, it’s just a lot to process right now.”

“I get it,” Rafe let go of your hand, but gave you no time to feel relieved, because next he placed his strong, large hand on your thigh, “I think we’re good for each other. I just have to show you, Y/N.”

Tannyhill was empty except the two of you. Your heart raced as Rafe led you upstairs to your room, hand firmly on the small of your back. When the door to the bedroom softly clicked behind you, closing the two of you in, you felt like throwing up.

You started to imagine Rafe wandering around, looking through all your things, all without your permission. He felt out of place there in your sanctuary but it was clear he’d made himself comfortable a long time a go. He led you over to the edge of your bed, and shakily, you sat down. He kneeled down in front of you, a position quite to vulnerable and intimate for you.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, voice deep in concerning. Lifting one of your heels from the ground, he looked closely at your legs, as if checking for an injury.

You shook your head, know the most your body had been through tonight had been at his hands, “I’m okay,” You spoke, your voice small.

Rafe looked up at you, “It’s okay if you’re not, yeah?” Rafe said, voice softening as his hand slid further up your leg. When you pulled your leg back, his grip remained firm, possessive, “Everyone’s gone. I’m asking you to lean on me, princess.”

With no hint of asking for permission, you stared back at your stepbrother. You couldn’t help but feel as if the timing of tonight had worked out eerily in his favor. Everyone in your family was gone for the night and there was no Mr. Hayes to text about your feelings.

“I’m going to run the bath for you,” Rafe decided, lips parted as if he was deep in thought, “Yeah, stay right here.”

“I’m fine, I can do it–” You began as Rafe made his way towards your bathroom.

He held out a finger and you stopped your movements quickly, frozen by the intensity in his gaze, “Stay.”

He didn’t have to raise his voice for you to feel the threat in his tone. Somehow, this version of him was scarier than the one that relentlessly struck a man until he was unrecognizable.

The sound of running water filled the room. Closing your eyes, controlling your breathing, the sound brought you to your routine. That sound of running water was always soothing to you. It was usually how your mind was able to slip into that comforting place on the other side of your mind. Things were lighter there, a place where you had no cares at all, and you enjoyed the things that you’d normally be embarrassed by. You pressed your feet into your fuzzy white carpet, your favorite place to listen to music and do one of your coloring books. You were almost there, the water having tricked you into falling deeper, until you caught a glimpse of Rafe standing behind the door, washing blood away in the sink.

You tightened your eyes even more, shaking your head. This was certainly not the time to let down your guard.

He appeared moments later, drying his hands with one of your pink washcloths, “Come on, let’s get you ready,” He said, his head tilted towards the bathroom, his voice deceptively warm.

Your feet betrayed you and you hesitantly crossed the room. Another door between you and your life before you knew Rafe felt this way. When it closed shut, you realized you’d sealed your fate. How could it be a mistake when this was the place in life where you felt safest? To accept something was wrong meant accepting that you had nowhere left to feel warm, innocent, or child-like.

Fingers caressed your skin, lifting the hem of your dress, gently raising your arms, until you were standing in your underwear. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying again and it didn’t register how badly your lips were trembling until Rafe’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, “You’re okay,” He assured you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You’d wanted this desperately, for someone to see you and not want to run away. You wanted someone to take care of you, someone devoted to nurturing you. Your eyes locked on Rafe’s and you felt his palm against your bottom, fingers traveling beneath the fabric of your panties. You kept your head tilted up as he leaned down, pressing lips that were softer than could’ve ever imagined, against your neck.

You melted against him.

Vanilla and strawberry swirled in the air, strong but gentle hands caressed you, and your tears started to feel more like a release than a burden. He kissed the spot on your throat that had gone sore from all tears.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered and you felt it everywhere.

After removing your bra and panties, he helped you into the bath. Quickly, the blood and tears seemed to leave your skin, as if you’d imagined them. He touched you in a way that more natural, human, than expected. With deliberate care, he moved his hands over you, an act that felt practiced.

Everything dissolved there in the warm bath, the heaviness of the entire night. Bubbles clung to your skin, and your fingers moved lazily over the surface of the water. Rafe washing you, moving a soapy washcloth over your skin, should’ve felt strange but were left in that hazy place where things were simple.

“This is how things are going to be,” You heard him say, “We’ll make it work, okay? You get to be yourself and I’m the one who takes care of you now. I’m your Daddy.”

You’d never said that word out loud. Daddy. It was a faraway concept, a dream …just like the cloud you were floating in right now. You hugged yourself, mind wandering to that soft bed with all of your plushies.

“Say it, princess,” you turned your head to him, mouth parted, eyes curious.

“Say what?” You asked in a whisper, an innocent haze in your eyes.

He smiled. You had done something right. You gave him a soft smile too. He leaned closer, “Say ‘Daddy’,” He commanded softly, “Please, princess.”

Part of you hesitated, knowing you were giving away something precious. The other part wanted to please him, after all, he’d brought you this sense of peace. And maybe the sooner you made him happy, the sooner he’d tuck you into your warm bed, and let this long day finally end.

“Daddy,” You tested out the word on your tongue and though it sounded fragile, his eyes seemed to light up, “...since you said please.”

Nothing could smoulder that spark of satisfaction in his eyes. The look made your heart flutter, a sharp contrast from before when it felt like exploding.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Your cheeks warmed and you turned your face to hide from him. You couldn’t take it when he looked at you like that. That look made it feel like everything was okay.

“I made a mistake,” Your voice came out in a whine. Rafe ran the warm cloth across your back, a reminder of that peaceful bubble he’d created around you.

He shushed you, “You didn’t,” He assured you, “You’re a good person, a good girl. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

His words made you sink deeper. The soft strokes of the warm washcloth, the vanilla-scent against your skin, and the pressure against your most sensitive areas. You felt the tension in your body melt away further.

Slowly, gripping your knees to your chest, you turned your face back towards him, “You can’t tell anybody, Rafe,” You whispered.

“Never,” He said, leaning closer, “Pinky swear?”

Rafe reached his other hand toward you, his pinky finger extended in front of you, moving like he was carefully dismantling some fragile, like a bomb. You stared for a brief movement, surprised and warmed by the gesture. You had no idea Rafe was capable of being so gentle. You unwrapped yourself a little bit, bring your closest pinky towards his hand. Your smaller finger wrapped around his and you were tethered together.

“There, I promise I won’t tell anyone, princess,” He looked at you deeply, “Okay?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, your hand falling gently back into the water, “Let’s get you out of here before you wrinkle up,” He decided and you watched him cross the room to grab your towel hanging from the back of the bathroom door. He walked back with a quiet confidence and his grip was completely sure, deliberate, as he helped you from the tub, “I’ve got ya’.”

He’d wrapped one arm underneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you gently. You imagined pressing yourself into him but a towel soon separated you. You shivered, and instinctually, you wanted to dry yourself but Rafe took responsibility of that as well. He was so close, so protective. It was awkward at first, being able to take care of that mundane task but not having to. You leaned into it, letting your body be soothed by the ritual.

You kept sinking.

“Arms up,” He’d said after bringing you back to your bedroom. He chose an oversized purple t-shirt, designed with small pictures of cartoon pandas. For your underwear, he chose a light blue pair decorated with rainbows. Your eyelids grew heavy and after your first yawn, Rafe lifted you onto the side of your bed, “There you go. All set.”

You crawled into your cocoon further, settling underneat your quilt. You watched Rafe as you settled there, as he moved across the room. Your sleepy eyes widened for a moment, realizing his shirt was gone and that he was fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

It was a threshold you’d never expected to reach, with Rafe or anyone else. The lights flicked off and the bed dipped beside you, your nerves sparked. You grabbed ahold of your lamb stuffed animal, letting that bring you a familiar comfort. Rafe nestled closer to you, his body at ease, relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you.

You did your best to do the same, trying to lean into that same vulnerability you felt when he was bathing you. Warm skin against yours, strong hands on your waist, warm breath against your ear, it was overwhelming, “I-Is this okay?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Looking for reassurance, you turned your head until your noses were almost pressed together.

“Yeah,” Rafe spoke low and smooth, “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nervously, “I’m okay.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead and you took a deep breath, letting the feeling sooth your anxiety, “I’ve got you,” Rafe’s fingers ran down your arm then to your waist. He held you there, feeling your flesh there, squeezing, “Daddy’s got you, baby.”

He touched you in new ways, gripped you hard in some places and softer in others. The kiss on your forehead turned into a kiss on your nose and then he placed soft lips against your cheek, “Relax,” He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re sleepy. I’ll do all the work.”

In your state of mind, his words felt like a riddle. What did he mean? You knew you liked his touch and that you wanted to sleep. Rafe knew more than you, clearly, maybe that’s what makes him a good Daddy. You should trust him.

You closed your eyes as you let him press his face into your neck. He kissed you there, finding the most sensitive spot on your skin, and it made your lips part in a soft moan, “Call me Daddy,” He spoke against your skin, “Please, baby? Just say it and I’ll make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” You whispered back hesitantly and Rafe groaned, “D-Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Rafe cursed, grabbing a handful of your bottom, “That’s exactly what I want from you.”

You felt hardness pressing against your upper thigh and you gripped your lamb tighter. You leaned into sleep, letting Rafe move your body as he pleased, only moving your lips to whisper, “Daddy” in Rafe’s ear. He seemed please and you felt a warmness in your center that you wanted more of.

Soon he was on top of you, your legs spread as he sat in between them. He rubbed you there. His rhythm was perfect, his accuracy impeccable, so much that you didn’t have to even move your hips to get the friction you needed. You panted and when you reached your peak, Rafe swallowed your moans, putting his mouth on your lips.

It didn’t fully register to you when Rafe pushed your underwear aside and started to push inside of you. He was so gentle and you were so tired. He pulled your arms to the side, pressing his front against you, but you kept one hand wrapped around the arm of your stuffed animal, “Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy”

You winced when you felt all of him, and instinctively, you pushed at his heavy arms, “You’re okay,” He said, and his voice was louder to you than his heavy breathing or the sound of his skin hitting against yours, “You’re doing so good. Daddy’s almost done. You’re gonna make me cum so fast, Y/N. Shit.”

The satisfaction and pride in his words brought almost enough warmth to mask the pain of being stretched by him. You slowly grew used to the feeling but the feeling was so intense and you had so little energy to withstand it, to take all of him.

“Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

His thrust slowed but his weight kept you pinned there. He grabbed ahold of your chin and you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. His mouth was parted, his eyes holding a darkness that you thought had gone away, “Jesus, baby.”

As he shifted to his side, all you could muster was to turn away, pulling your lamb close to your chest and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Rafe nestled against you once more, his hands gripping your hips until your bottom was pressed firmly against him. You felt the warmth of his lips against your hair, and then his sleepy voice whispered, “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Reblog and comment if you enjoyed, would love to know your thoughts!!

#dark fic #rafe cameron #little space #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader

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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months ago

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can i request a girl flirting with spencer but he is too oblivious to understand she is flirting (bc of course he doesnt) so he keeps talking to her, and reader (they are dating) is FURIOUS and he is sooooo confused. i think it could be funny 🤭

post prison!spencer x sunshine!reader are out with the team when spencer gets sidetracked, you don't like that he is. 1.2k

You’re frowning into your long island iced tea. The entire team can see it and Luke is itching to make a comment. He also knows that despite your sunny disposition you might kick his shin under the table.

“You could always just go bring him back here,” Matt says, sipping his beer as he watches you burn holes into Spencer’s back.

You’re not jealous, no matter what any of them might imply.

“He’s a big boy. If he doesn’t want her flirting with him, he can just leave.”

JJ laughs into her drink, Penelope rolls her eyes as she chews her cherry and Emily shakes her head at you.

Spencer likely will remove himself from the girl if he doesn’t want to be flirted with- but since he’s been there for the last twenty minutes you suspect he isn’t as into you as they’ve all suggested.

It was silly of you to let your heart be captured by a man fresh out of prison you suppose. Your frown worsens at your thoughts, Spencer isn’t the ‘lead a girl on,’ type. Still you feel the hot and heavy sting of jealousy and something bitter settle in your chest.

“He’s still a bit awkward about this,” You roll your eyes this time. They all talk of Spencer like he’s a thirty three year old virgin. He isn’t. You know he isn’t because Penelope had informed you that he’d been in serious relationships before.

Not that you’d wanted to know.

When Spencer comes back, you’re itching for a game of cards and the rest of your team is itching for some sort of reaction from either of you.

It’s been clear over the ten months you’ve been working at the BAU, that you and Spencer have begun to orbit each other. You’re like Pluto and Charon. You bring each other breakfast, make each other’s coffee, you were even almost halfway in his lap on the jet the other day ‘doing crosswords.’ You really were doing crosswords.

They suspect you’re both just too oblivious (you) and frightened (Spencer) to do anything about the feelings everyone can see you have.

“Sorry I took so long,” though he says the words loud enough for the entire group to hear, his eyes are on you.

“Did you at least get her number?” You kick Luke in the shin then, earning a smirk from the man across from you. Maybe if you put salt in his protein powder he’ll relent.

“What?” Spencer asks, sipping his rum and coke. He brushes a curl of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

You reach into your bag and pull out your sparkly deck of cards and shuffle them. “Oh are we doing readings?” Penelope asks, you don’t trust the peachiness of her tone.

“The girl from the bar.” Matt clarifies for Spencer, whose eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“Why would I get her number?” JJ looks at you with a, ‘do you see what we’re saying,’ look but you only shake your head.

You don’t care if Spencer did get her number or if he’d been flirting back with her. You’re not dating. You don’t care. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“She was flirting with you man.” Luke says and Spencer shrugs, leaning into you as Penelope takes the cards from you. They’re only playing cards, but she’s been trying to get you to read them as well as she reads tarot.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers in favour of a reply to Luke, eyebrows knitted together when you shrug him out of your space.

“Fine.” Emily chuckles which only worsens Spencer’s frown.

“Hey, what about this song?” JJ says, the entire group dispersing. Penelope is the last to go, leaving the ace of hearts face up on the table.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks, hand reaching for your chin. You shake your head from his hand. Spencer feels burned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” You make it a point to stress the word friends and Spencer almost flinches.

“I don’t believe you.” he says the words plainly. “Are you upset with me?” You turn to face him then, face stony, an expression on your face Spencer has never seen. Other than that day you were on the phone with your brother.

“Why would I be upset with you? You’re just the clueless thirty three year old everyone thinks can’t tell when a pretty girl at the bar is flirting with him.” Your words are hushed and low, your eyes dark in the poorly lit booth.

Spencer sighs, his shoulders reaching his ears before falling. “You’re jealous?”

You grumble, no point in hiding what is so very clear. “You flirt with me for ten months, and then you spend almost thirty minutes letting a stranger put their hands all over you and come back here like you didn’t know she was flirting? If you just wanted the attention you could’ve said so from the beginning, Spencer Reid.”

There’s no ‘Doctor,’ before his name that lets him know you’re being playful or funny. No, your words and your expression are the iciest thing he thinks he’s ever witnessed. You sound hurt more than anything and that makes Spencer’s heart crack right down the middle.

His hand reaches for your chin, turning you to face him. “I didn’t just want attention, you know that,”

You roll your eyes, “Oh do I?” Spencer likes this attitude on you, he can’t even pretend to lie to himself. He just doesn’t like the way you doubt him.

“I like you. You know I like you. Yes, the woman at the bar was flirting with me, but the conversation was being redirected. She was flirting with me till I told her I wasn’t interested and that I had someone waiting for me.”

You don’t believe him, “Took you twenty eight minutes to do that?”

Spencer smiles then, pressing his forehead into yours. “You’re worked up, sweet girl.” The nickname settles you a little. “It took me a little to catch on. I’ll admit it takes some getting used to from total strangers. But I didn’t enjoy her flirting with me if that’s what you’re really asking.”

Spencer’s thumb presses into the slight divot in your chin, your eyes stuck on his as he refuses to break eye contact. “I only want you to flirt with me.”

Your breath hitches, Spencer smiles. “You let her touch you.” He laughs at how petulant you sound, he knows your grip on your anger is slipping.

“Am I supposed to push her hands off me?” You nod and Spencer lets his nose run along your jaw. “You’re too much.”

Spencer doesn’t leave your side the rest of the night.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x sunshine!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid

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satorusugurugurl · 7 months ago

Text

Stuck in The Middle

Summary: After being cramped in a hot car between your coworkers Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, you learn a very personal detail about their lives, their sex lives to be in fact!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Word Count: 3,031

Warning: Masturbation, threesome, oral sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, Geto’s bangs 🥵

A/N: Someone, totally not me. *bombastic side eye at me reflection* Has been reading/looking at tons of SatoSugu artwork. Again totally not me! This was not my brain worm working against me. . .yeah. . .it was. . .🪱

“Satoru, please, you're on my last nerve.”

“Oh, why? Because I'm breathing? So sorry, I need to breathe, your highness!”

“No, it's because you keep rolling the window up and down! It's hot, and you're letting all the cold air out!”

“Okay, so you tell me how to preoccupy my time? My phone is dead, we're stuck in traffic, and I'm starving!” Satoru turned to glare at his best friend. “If someone hadn't nearly thrown up after swallowing that curse, we could be back at the hotel!”

“I will sic’ one of my curses on you while we're inside the car if you keep testing me!”

“P-Please don't.”

Both Satoru and Suguru seized up, looking down at you. You had been so damn quiet they forgot you were there. You were smashed between the two of them, struggling to breathe. You didn't want to be here. You wanted to go on your own mission. But Yaga had insisted your curse technique for talismans and veils was ideal for this mission.

And your boss wasn't wrong! The three of you kicked major ass, got the job done within a day, and would be staying the night in Chiba before heading back to Tokyo in the morning. That was if you made it to the hotel without Satoru and Suguru killing each other.

Since you left Tokyo, the two best friends have been fighting and arguing. Like they were both on edge, you thought that maybe it was your presence intruding on their space. But they were both civil with you; to each other, it was a different story. They bickered like an old married couple. That was fine at first, but now that they talked about fighting each other? The two strongest sorcerers you knew, yeah, you wouldn’t let that happen.

You sighed in relief as they pulled away, giving you space to breathe. “Oh, Y/N, sorry you're so quiet I almost forgot you were here.” Satoru placed his forearm on your head, leaning in closer to Suguru. “Don't worry about me; I can take Suguru.” Suguru sighed loud enough for the both of you to hear.

“She doesn't want us to fight.”

“Well, not everybody gets what they want.” The words come out like silk as you jerk your head to the side. “Hey!” You don't even have a chance to admire the pout on Satoru as your head collides with Suguru’s shoulder.

“S-Sorry.” This is the only word you can begin to muster as Suguru glances down at you. He gives you a soft, gentle smile, bangs shifting as he shakes his head. A gesture to let you know that you were okay. His eyes slowly open to glare daggers at the other man.

Satoru sighs, rolling his eyes as he turns his attention back out the window. His leg bounces up and down so fast it's vibrating the chair. At least he isn't rolling the window up and down anymore. Maybe the peace would last through traffic. Maybe God would grant you that singular gift.

But God was cruel because the peaceful silence lasted all but thirty minutes. Enough time to get you through the nerve-wracking traffic just as the assistant supervisor pulled up to your hotel. They were the first to get out, rushing to grab Gojo’s luggage from the back. You wanted to join them! To help, but alas, you were still pinned between the two taller men. They were still glaring daggers at the other, waiting to see which would back down first.

There was far too much testosterone in the air for your liking. So you wiggled your way past them, reaching for the door handle. If you had to crawl over their laps to escape to freedom, so be it. A sacrifice you were willing to make! Just as you were getting ready to crawl over Suguru’s lap, Satoru moved.

You let out a little oof as Satoru pressed his whole body against you. You inadvertently fell over onto Suguru’s lap. The dark-haired man’s hands shot up, his thighs tensing at you suddenly collapsing onto him. Before you had a chance to get off or move, you gasped, cheeks flush as Satoru pressed his hips against your ass, poking Suguru in the cheek very aggressively with his pointer finger.

”Does somebody have an upset tummy after swallowing that curse?” The mocking tone of Satoru’s voice nearly makes Suguru grow inaudible. However, it was loud and clear from where you were! Seeing that your face was pressed firmly against his thighs.

Suguru's hand reached up, grabbing Satoru by the front of his jacket, yanking him closer to his face. Which had him pressing his crotch harder against your ass; it felt good. One of your hands flies up to stifle the moan that threatens to escape your mouth as Satoru tries pulling away from his very grumpy best friend.

“Do you have a death wish, Satoru?!”

“No, but I still have your underwear from last week.”

“Yeah, well, I still have your virginity!”

“Mmmph.” You whine, and your hand doesn’t muffle the noise this time.

Both Satoru and Suguru freeze. Their eyes slowly drift towards your body. One hand is gripping Geto’s pants while the other covers your mouth. Your ass is perfectly propped up, right against Satoru. Neither of them can deny how hot you look sprawled out in front of them like this. They exchange a look with each other, while at the same time, you feel Gojo’s cock throb against your ass while Geto’s twitches against your cheek.

Their eyes practically burn holes through your skin, muscles twitching like predators about to pounce. You needed to move fast! Grabbing the handle to the door, you throw it open, crawling over Suguru, hitting the hard pavement with a thump that makes your ears ring. Two large hands grab your jacket, trying to hoist you off the ground and back into the car. Luckily, you’re able to shimmy out of it before you’re caught. You scramble to your feet, bolting for the hotel, ignoring the shouts behind you.

When you’re secure in your room, you plop onto the ground, gasping for air as you stare at the multicolored carpet in shock. Suguru and Satoru were fucking!? Oh God, why did they send you on this mission? It was bad enough having to be stuck between the two of them all day. Now you know details about their very personal and very intimate lives, what the hell were they going to do to you!?

”Stupid Y/N! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” You scolded yourself as you scrubbed your hands over your face. “Stupid body! Is it too much to ask for a not so reactive body!?” You screamed to the heavens, pushing yourself off the ground as you began pacing, biting your thumb as your eyes darted to the wall separating you and Gojo's room. “I-I’ll just act like I never heard it! Yeah, I don’t know who happened to Take the Gojo Satoru’s virginity.”

It was Geto, his one and only best friend, Geto Suguru.

Your mind kept stating that fact all evening. While you took a shower, ordered room service, and as you currently laid in bed. Scowling at the ceiling in frustration, you're tossed and turned. You were trying to think of anything else other than Satoru and Suguru.

Like how nice and comfy your bed was! How would Satoru look pushed into it? The moon was beautiful! Satoru and Suguru would look pretty fucking in the moonlight. Was the heater on? No, it was just you, wanting to be in the middle, to taste and feel each other, their bodies flush against you, like earlier in the car, only with less clothes on.

“Stop it!” you shouted, getting out of bed. “You can't fantasize about your coworkers like this! They said it by accident. Not on purpose!”

Deciding that sleep wasn't an option, you walked towards the bathroom to grab a glass of water. “S-Suguru~” A whiny moan behind the wall had you freezing in your tracks. “Ahh~ s-Sugu~!” you turned your head slowly, eyeing the wall.

“Satoru~”

God hated you. It was apparent that you were being punished for some unknown sin. You pressed your thighs together, staring at the wall for a long moment. Listening to the soft grunts and groans from the two men on the other side of the wall. The bed creaked, enticing you to step closer, to listen to their moans. Your body moved, inching closer to the wall. But before you could you froze. No, this was wrong! You shouldn't be eavesdropping! You should leave as this had nothing to do with you! Before you could turn to go, a sharp inhale caught your attention.

“S-She was so pretty~” Satoru cried out, “ah! I w-wanna touch her.”

“Yeah~ she's so pretty. I would love to have her and you at the same time.” A breathless whine. “Oooh, you twitched, Satoru. You like that idea~.”

You liked that idea.

Forgetting all morals, you strode forward, slowly dropping to your knees and pressing your ear against the wall. “Y-Yeah~ like it~” The bed creaked fast, squeaking under the weight of whatever the duo was doing.

“She’d look pretty stuffed between us~ stuck in the middle.”

You felt your pussy twitch, a silent plea for you to relieve the burning heat building inside you. “Fuck.” A tiny whine sounded in the back of your throat as you slid your hand inside your shorts, rubbing your clit. You imagined being stuck between them. The smell of musk, clean linen, and earthy wood. Put them together, and god imagining their scent lingering on your skin could almost make you cum. “Haaah~” you cry out a little too loud, but you're losing yourself in the fantasy that you don't even notice the creaking of the bed has stopped. “Fuck~”

“I wanna kiss her~” Satoru groans out.

“I wanna kiss her too, on that pretty clit.” Suguru added.

“Yes ~ yeah, I-I want that too.” Your fingers pressed harder against yourself.

“I wanna fuck her while she sucks you off. Same position as when we were in the car.”

“Yeah~ she’d look so pretty choking on me while you fuck her.”

God, they were so lewd! It had you crying out softly, legs shaking as you whimpered loudly.“Fuck!” You cried out, rubbing your swollen clit faster, mouth dropping open at your quickened pace. “Oooh fuck.” Touching yourself is just what you needed. Your fingers were inches from sliding inside, your tight heat. Soon, you’d feel sweet relief.

Knock, Knock, knock.

Three quick taps hit the wall right where your ear was. Hurriedly, you pull away, staring at the wall in shock. A chuckle sounds from the other side of the wall before you hear footsteps heading across the floor, their door creaking open before the same quick knocks sound from your door. Ooooh fuck.

With shaky legs, you stand, heading to the door, slowly opening it. You inhaled sharply as a large hand pressed against it, forcing it open more. Suguru slowly leaned down, his face flushed, his hair a complete mess, and his lips swollen. His sudden closeness had you stepping further into your room.

His eyes took in your own flushed face, darting your legs that you clenched. “So Y/N,” he stepped inside your room, gently grabbing your chin, “you gonna keep playing with yourself? Or do you wanna pick up where we left off in the car?” You failed to find the words, stuttering and stumbling over your traitorous tongue. Suguru smiled gently, tilting his head to the side, waiting patiently for your answer.

Going next door to join them was insane, right? Yes. Were you going to do it? Fucking absolutely.

“Y-Yeah—-I wanna pick up where we left off.”

“Good girl.” Ever so slowly, Suguru brought your fingers to his mouth. His eyes trailed over them, still wet with your slick. “Come on.” He opened his mouth, kissed swollen lips wrapping around your fingers, sucking on them sinfully.

“Holy shit!” You cursed as he swirled his tongue around them.

When he could no longer taste your sweet, tangy essence, he pulled off with a pop. His tongue lolled out, swiping at the corner of his mouth. “We don't want to keep Satoru waiting.”

Everything was a blur, shutting your door and entering their Satoru’s room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back as he slowly grinned—a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Awe~ you actually came.” Satoru patted the side of the bed, his erection straining against his boxers. “Come sit, sit, noisy girl.”

You plopped down next to Satoru, swallowing as the two men looked over you. “Satoru, she told me she wasn't to pick up where we left off.” The white-haired man perked up, blue eyes glancing at you as he turned.

“You do?”

“Yes.” There wasn't a second of hesitation as you nodded. “Yes, I do!”

“Okay, well, in that case.” Sitting on his knees, Satoru whistled happily as he pulled you up onto your knees with him. “Get into position.” He turned your body so your back was turned towards him.

For a split second, you were face to face with Suguru, sitting at the head of the bed. He winked at you before you were pushed down to present your ass to Satoru from behind. A tiny gasp sounded from your throat as Suguru squeezed at the bulge in his sweats that you were face to face with. A small wet spot formed where his tip was leaking pre-cum against the gray fabric.

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” Thick, long fingers played with the elastic of your pajama shorts.

“Mhmm, I'm positive.”

With a final approval of consent, cold air hit your bare ass as your shorts were yanked down. Hissing at the sudden chill, you focused on Suguru’s hand. It was squeezing the bulge harder; the faintest groans rumbled in his chest. Your hands trailed over his thighs, his muscles twitching as you grabbed his waistband.

“Can I give you a hand?”

Suguru shook his head. “No, you may not.” His words stung, a pout forming on your lips. “You may, however, use your mouth.” You beamed up at him, tugging his pants down, freeing his massive erection that bobbed in the air.

“Oooh, it's so pretty.” Gently grabbing his shaft, you stroked it. “Thank you, Suguru.”

While you took Suguru’s cock in your mouth Satoru slapped your ass from behind, spreading your cheeks, looking at your dripping cunt with a needy groan. “Fuck, she's soaked. Did you get off on hearing us dry-humping Y/N?” You gave a little ‘mhm!’ around Suguru’s cock. “Oooh, what a little perv,” Satoru growled, smacking your ass harder.

“No, she's a good girl.” Sweet sighs left Suguru’s mouth as you peeked up at him. “Such a good girl, look at you sucking my cock~ so good.” One of his hands gently pressed your head, urging you to take more of him, while the other rested behind his head. “Fuck, Satoru, her mouth feels so good.”

You were taking more of Suguru’s cock into your throat when you felt Satoru rubbing the head of his cock over your entrance. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned, the tip of his cock back and forth over your slick folds. He hummed, locking his bottom lip with a smirk. “Yeah, down here feels good too~ she's so wet.” Hot, velvety skin slid up. “So wet I might slip inside.” Your eyes widened as his tip pressed past your tight entrance. “Oops~”

“Y/N~ did Satoru slip inside like he said he would?” You moaned in response, deep-throating Suguru as far as you could, gagging over his length. “Fuuck~ you like it? Being stuffed like this~? Your mouth and your pussy are being put to good use.” your eyes water as he gagged more, Suguru pushing you down to his base. Your nose brushing against trimmed black pubes.

“Nnngh fuck, she's twitching like crazy. She likes it~ no, she loves this~!” Suddenly, you were filled to the brim as Satoru slammed into you, gritting his teeth.

Body twitching, you shut your eyes tight, focusing on breathing as best as possible through your nose. But fuck, it was hard to concentrate as Satoru’s hips began rutting against you at a slow and steady pace. Your moans and gags muffled together as Suguru gently thrusts his hips up into your mouth, a whine.

Both men looked at you for a long moment, watching drool running out of the corners of your mouth and how you began rocking back against Satoru’s clock, begging for more. Their eyes locked, gleaming with a mixture of lust and pure, unfiltered need before Suguru leaned over, kissing Satoru.

His sudden movement had his cock pushing further down your throat. You gagged, pulling back to breathe. “Ah! Ah, fuck!” you cried out, grabbing Suguru’s cock in your hand and stroking him as Satoru began thrusting harder. His grunts slipped into Suguru’s mouth as their tongues melded together. You glanced up, watching as Suguru cupped Satoru’s face in both hands, deepening the kiss as his hips thrust into your hand.

Satoru looked like he was struggling to keep up, hips bucking madly against your ass while his tongue moved against Suguru’s in a way that you knew he liked. There was no fumbling around, just two insanely hot guys making out with you in the middle. Breaking the kiss, you watched Suguru gasp for air, his hair even more messy before he grabbed you by the hair, spanking your head up.

“Enjoying the show?” You whined as you nodded; Satoru was now hitting your g-spot head-on. “Ooh, you getting close?”

“Yeah, s-she—ngh fuck!” Skin slapped against the skin as Satoru leans forward, trailing kisses up your spine. “She's so tight, so fucking tight, she's gonna cum, gonna cum and milk me~! Fuck!”

You jerked your hand faster over Suguru’s spit-slicked cock. Your eyes glaze over as Satoru whimpers over your skin. The sight of the two of you slowly unraveling has Suguru tilting his head back with a snarl. The two of you made the cutest whines and whimpers as the overwhelming tension of a building orgasm twisted in both your cores. He wasn't going to last, not at all.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” Suguru yelled, body doubling over, his hand gripping your hair. “O-Open wide~”

“S-Sugu—Suguru!” Satoru watched as his best friend jerked himself madly over your tongue before he shoved his cock into your mouth. “Y-Yeah, fill her mouth, give her that cum.”

Suguru does precisely that; you moan as his cum fills your mouth, thick and salty with just a hint of sweetness to it. He doesn't stop; Suguru just keeps thrusting, moaning, and grunting as he pushes all his cum into your mouth, only stopping when he feels you swallowing around his softening cock. When he looks up from the top of your head, he sees Satoru’s face scrunch up. Eyebrows knitted together as his hips jerk madly against your ass.

“Oh fuck me~ fuck me I'm cummin’ haa ha fuck!” As ropes of cum paint your insides, Suguru quickly reaches down, rubbing your clit as you pull off his twitching cock.

“C-cumming!” Your hoarse voice called out, your hands gripping Suguru’s shirt to steady yourself. “S-Satoru—Sugu—c-cumm—”

“Aaahh fuck!” Satoru grunts out, head falling against your shoulder as you scream, squirting all over him.

He keeps fucking into you, working you both through the waves of your orgasms, pushing you both to the border of oversensitivity. It isn't until you are both trembling that Suguru pulls his hand back, chuckling weakly as his two spent lovers collapse on the bed. He's half tempted to get up, to grab a warm towel to clean all of you off, but he doesn't.

Not when Satoru gently presses his middle and index finger against your chin, turning your head toward him. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” He leans forward, kissing you softly. You return his kiss, moaning against his lips as he repositions your bodies. You sprawled out under him as he stayed slotted between your legs.

Satoru only breaks the kiss when he feels Suguru climb behind him. He doesn't get to ask what he’s doing because Suguru pushes his head down, encouraging him to kiss you more. Satoru keeps kissing you, eyes going wide as he feels the wet tip of Suguru’s cock pressing against his stretched and lubed hole.

“That’s it, keep kissing Y/N Satoru~ it's my turn to enjoy the show~!”

1K notes · View notes

girlsworldillusion · 13 days ago

Text

Ocean's Tear

Aemond x Siren!Reader

Summary: At first it was just curiosity. There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

Captain Targaryen, they called him.

It seemed like just a silly curiosity. But you quickly realize that your little curiosity turns into something much worse.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive:

Taking an interest in a human.

Rated: M +18

Warnings: interspecies relationships, mentions of blood and death, dark themes.

Word account: 9k

Author's note: This story was divided into two parts. I'll be posting the final act soon, if it gets a good reception. Happy reading!

At first it was just curiosity.

There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

That something could be many things, of course, and at first you thought it was just his unusual hair color, a singularity that made him stand out from the rest like a sore thumb.

Despite having seen many different humans throughout your life, you didn't remember ever seeing one with hair like his. As far as you knew, only aged humans had hair that color. But the man you began to observe closely didn't seem aged. Quite the opposite. His tall, strong physique indicated that he was a very healthy adult man of, if your knowledge of the human race was anything to go by, thirty years old at most. And yet, the strands of his hair were as light as the pure white moon that shone above the ocean.

But there was another singularity about the man. He always wore a damn leather eye patch on the left side of his face. When you first saw this, you laughed in derision at how stereotypical the human was being. What? A ship captain wearing an eyepatch? So predictable. All that was missing was a hook in his hand and a wooden leg to complete the standard pirate look.

It should have been ridiculous, at the very least. Except it wasn't.

It was actually embarrassing how fascinating you found the dark contrast of the leather with the silver strands that were always coming loose from his ponytail.

Honestly, it was worrying how quickly you were becoming interested in this strange human.

But, the days passed and, regardless of how peculiar those details about him were, that wasn't the only thing that made you pay so much attention to the man.

The way he behaved was also different from the others. Unlike the loud and obnoxious humans you were used to encountering while sailing these seas, this man walked the deck with his head held high and an indifferent expression, a cigarette lazily held between his fingers, telling each of the crew members what to do in a firm and authoritative manner, although he never had to raise his voice at any time.

Captain Targaryen, they called him. He was always calm, always in control, silent most of the time - as if he were directly responsible for inspiring and maintaining order around him. It was immediately clear to you why he was the captain of this ship. Just as it was also clear that this human was more fortunate than others you had seen. Not only did his posture and manner reveal his high-class upbringing, but also his ship which, despite keeping its simple dark tones and overall understated appearance, was much larger and much better preserved than those that normally visited this area of the ocean.

You didn't know who this man was, but he certainly wasn't just anyone.

Despite all this, he was still a human, and even though he had caught your attention for reasons that not even you could fully understand, you knew from the beginning that you shouldn't entertain such curiosity. Humans were cunning and treacherous little things, regardless of their appearance. And even if such a notion was irrelevant (it wasn't), he wouldn't last long anyway. Not here. If you had noticed the ship's approach and, especially, the presence of the various crew members inside it, your sisters had too. It was only a matter of time now. The days of not only this man, but everyone under his command, were numbered.

You shouldn't entertain your curiosity.

But, despite all your rules, tact, and minimal capacity for good judgment, you found yourself getting closer and closer to the human's vessel.

Surprisingly, there was still some sense left in you, and you chose to do this always at night, when it would be easier to keep yourself hidden from unwanted eyes.

That was the reason, of course. Not the fact that it was at night that the man came out on deck to take a breather, when his crew was already asleep. Every night, without exception, punctual as clockwork.

Fuck. You are such an idiot.

A pair of large eyes peer through the gentle rippling of the water. Submerged up to your nose, you keep cautiously away (though closer than you were last night, and the night before, and the night before that... - tsk, idiot, idiot). The length of your long tail sways below the surface, deceptively delicate fins rippling in anticipation, tense and restless.

He lights a cigarette.

Your sensitive nose wrinkles in response to the disgusting and very human habit, but you barely blink as you watch him raise the thing to his lips. He holds it there until the tip burns an abrasive shade of red, staring at the dark, endless horizon ahead, the ship beneath his feet rocking rhythmically with the waves lapping at its sides. He pulls his fingers away after a few seconds to breathe in a cloud of smoke, and you swear you can taste the toxic flavor of tobacco even from where you stand. The thought doesn’t bother you as much as it should. The chilly night wind blows a few loose strands in front of his face, the rest of his silver hair tied back in a messy bun.

His posture during the day is always the same; confident and calm. He’s the picture of composure most of the time. But here, at night, smoking his disgusting cigarette in deep, silent contemplation, he almost always looks...sad. As if the burden weighs heavily on his shoulders and this is the only time he can leave small visible cracks in his normally impenetrable countenance.

Lonely. He looks lonely.

Maybe he's not so different from you after all.

Your tail fin shakes a little harder, the fingers on your hands flexing agitatedly. What was with this human, anyway? Why were you wasting your time here, trying to understand his fragile and insignificant human feelings when the time for hunting had obviously not even begun? This kind of behavior was not common in your species. Of course, if any of your sisters showed up you could just say that you were observing your prey, getting to know its weak points better for when the time came to attack.

But was that really what you were doing?

The human rests his elbows and leans his body on the edge of the ship, once again bringing the cigarette to his lips. His strong forearms are exposed by the rolled-up sleeve of his black shirt, showing off a pale ivory complexion, long and prominent veins along its length. He is like a carefully crafted statue, his body agile and tall, powerful and elegant.

He tilts his face gently and blinks slowly and vaguely. You recognize that this is the worst moment to realize that from where you are standing you can't tell the exact shade of his eye - apparently his only good eye, in fact. The thought leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

You want to know what color his eye is.

"Gods, what am I doing?" You mutter sullenly as you sink gently, pushing your body closer to the ship with a flick of your tail. Despite your obvious and undeniable propensity for making reckless choices, your movements are carefully calculated, using the waves and the blind spots of the moonlight to cover any suspicious tracks.

You are now as close to the human vessel as you have ever been - at least outside of a context other than exclusively for attack and feeding. If you swing your tail enough you might even touch the side of the ship, the human hovering a few feet above you. Your hands are strangely trembling beneath the surface, nervous and anxious, and you flex your fingers to contain your stupid reaction, feeling the sharp tips of your claws in contact with the soft palms.

Your discretion is rewarded with the human's seemingly complete ignorance, who remains in the same position as before, still smoking and staring at the choppy waves, oblivious to your presence. You sigh softly, a sound of relief, letting your eyes travel over the sharp, clear lines of his masculine face.

The night is dark, cloudy, with only the moonlight and a few lights from the human vessel itself illuminating the surroundings. But your eyes are capable, much more capable than a human's, made to see perfectly underwater and stalk your prey with skill, and you part your lips when you clearly realize that his eye is blue. As blue as the sea is near the coast, where the waves shine with a crystalline and mesmerizing prism, like ethereal stained glass.

As bright as...

The man exhales another mouthful of that intoxicating smoke into the humid night air, but you barely blink where you stand. Your fingers instinctively close around the stone attached to the necklace floating in front of your breasts. The blue gem is cold against your fingertips, but you know its power and magic burn like burning embers.

You’re so distracted that you barely notice the significance of the human’s next move, your eyes only half noticing his hand rising to his face. You watch without really seeing as he removes the eye patch from his face, vaguely returning to the present as you think of the strange break in routine that this act has made - he had never removed the eye patch during the nights you had been watching.

He would go out, smoke that horrible cigarette without any rush while looking out at the endless sea, throw the toxic stuff on the floor when he was done and extinguish the ember with a drag of his boot before entering the ship to sleep. Every night, religiously.

Any thoughts of routine evaporate from your mind when the leather finally comes off his face, caught between the captain’s fingers as he lowers his hand. Your lips part and your eyes widen, your tail freezes below the surface for a few seconds.

There is a stone where his eye should be. A blue stone. A stone you would recognize anywhere. Your own blue gem seems to warm between your fingers in response, glowing subtly as if sensing the presence of a twin stone.

“W-what...but - how?” You whisper, confused and alarmed. How could this human have something like this? Not even all sirens had such a stone. You yourself only managed to find yours a few years ago.

The Ocean's Tear, as the stone was known to your kin, was an extremely rare and nearly impossible to find relic, treasured by all sirens for its power to grant them specific ‘gifts’. The gifts vary from individual to individual, however. While some could heal themselves from any harm, some could hear the thoughts of others as if they were their own, others could persuade any living creature to do what they wanted. The possibilities go on and on.

You, after decades of tireless searching, had found your gem in a remote corner of the ocean, having gone through thirst, hunger and almost losing your own life when facing a relentless pod of hungry orcas that chased you at some point towards the end of the journey. It was an exhausting search and almost cost you more than you were willing to give, but it was all worth it when you finally touched your own 'ocean's tear'. You remember how the jewel warmed slightly and sparkled like countless bright diamond points between your trembling fingers, reacting instantly to your touch, as if it had also been waiting for this moment all its life - waiting for you all its life.

You cried that day, for the first time.

Of course, after days and days of the gem hanging proudly around your neck and nothing different happening, you started to get suspicious. Days turned into months and months stretched into years and you didn't see any change in your body; no psychic gifts, no persuasive power over sea creatures or self-healing abilities. You were still just you, the same as always.

It was frustrating and humiliating.

But you couldn't stop wearing the jewel, after all it was still the 'ocean's tear'. Any siren who had it would automatically gain the silent respect of others. You were someone capable with this stone. With it, you were important. Someone wise and strong enough to seek and find the impossible. You were proud to show off your relic - even if it was useless in the end.

The bad mood was constantly present with you since then. Disappointed, but strangely not surprised. Of course this would happen to you; of course you would swim tirelessly across the seven seas in search of the jewel of jewels and it simply wouldn't work for you. That's the kind of karma that haunts you.

You had almost died to conquer the impossible only to find out that the impossible didn't want you.

And now this human dares to flaunt the impossible as if it were something anyone could have?

As if it were something that some random human who thinks he knows the ocean could claim for himself just because he has a ship and other stupid little humans to put inside it?

The stone wouldn't do anything for him, you know. The gem only reacts to sirens, without exception. This human dared to steal something that belongs to your species, only for the artifact to be absolutely wasted in the end. In this human's hands the jewel was just a cold, shiny stone. Beautiful and exotic, no doubt, but useless.

(But wasn't it also useless in your hands?)

You snarl at your own incriminating thought, narrowing your eyes to slits as you watch the human tilt his face - oblivious to the dangerous and highly emotional turmoil of a supposedly non-existent creature right next to him. The moonlight gloriously intensifies the smooth complexion of his handsome face, the aristocratic line of his nose, the long silver strands fluttering in the wind. His good eye and the damned stolen jewel, dark as the deep waters of the sea.

The instant thought that this human, selfish and cruel as he is, could be as deserving (or undeserving, in this case) as you of something as pure and sacred as the ocean's tear, is so offensive that it is physically nauseating. How could he have something that you have spent decades of your life searching for? Something that countless of your sisters would never even have the privilege of seeing, much less having for themselves? He does not deserve this.

Your teeth grind, the sharp canines piercing the inside of your mouth until you taste your own blood.

He's the enemy. No matter how interesting and handsome you find him, the stone (an heirloom of your people, not his) that he sports embedded in his face is just more proof of how dirty and morally corrupt humans are - something that, admittedly, you have known all along.

He's a thief. A sneaky usurper.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive. Take an interest in a human. And you know it. From the human race, only the worst is expected, really. You just hated that this human in question was so fascinating.

"How did you get this?"

Your own grumpy voice echoes in the silence of the night, scaring not only the human on the ship, but yourself as well. The sound is a bubbling rustle of words, hoarse around the edges and almost brittle from disuse, rarely having been used for conversational purposes. But it is audible enough to catch the human's attention. Your eyes widen, any animosity and anger instantly forgotten in the shock of your complete and utter lack of control. The man turns his head in the direction of your voice, quick as a whip, at exactly the same moment that you react and dive.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot!" You repeat the mantra, swimming until you are at a safe depth.

The question had simply slipped through your lips without you being able to stop it, but you knew how much you had screwed up.

Looking up, distressed and uncertain, you see through the ripples of the water that the human is staring intently at the sea, his one eye sliding from one corner to the other - trying to find the source of the voice he heard. The darkness of the night is on your favor and you know he can't see anything but foam and the dark waves, no matter how hard he tries. You hope he quickly comes to the most logical conclusion for this situation; that he didn't hear what he thinks he heard. It was just his own mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he blames it on tiredness and sleep, or the lack of it.

But as he stands there, brows furrowed and serious eye, stubbornly searching for something that even he himself wouldn't know what, something whispers to you that he won't just give up.

"Hello?" He asks in a thick, drawling tone, tired you notice, once again leaning slightly on the side of the ship to better see the waters below. When no sound other than the waves of the sea is heard, he hums thoughtfully for a moment, almost imperceptibly softening his frown to something more neutral and calm. "It's okay. I know you're there. It's not the first time I feel like I'm being watched, to be honest." His voice is the same as you remember; steady, controlled, a low timbre that’s almost husky around the edges. You would be delighted by it, as you have been many times before, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, your cheeks darkening in embarrassment at the confirmation that he’d somehow felt your presence this whole time.

Gods, a human was embarrassing you. What had you come to?

"But this is the first time you've said anything. I have to say that you surprised me tonight, since I assumed we'd be playing this game for a while longer." He continues, a vaguely playful quirk in his drawl, adjusting his body so that he's leaning sideways on the deck and bringing what's left of his cigarette to lips again. Your heart pounds violently in your chest, your tail fin rattling restlessly with your anxiety.

You don't know why you're still here.

He puffs out his swirling cloud of smoke, looking completely at ease and at ease with the situation - although he's heard a mysterious, feminine voice ring out in the middle of the night, in one of the most dangerous parts of the entire ocean, in a place where he logically knows there no be any women. But he remains calm. Unlike you, who have everything but control over yourself at this moment. And, once again, you feel diminished by this human.

He behaves in the opposite direction of what you're used to from human behavior. He confuses and intrigues you, awakening feelings you never imagined you had for someone of his kind.

Here you were, undeniably afraid of being caught, but unable to simply swin away and leave him behind. All because some random human had made you interested in him. Turned you into a soft thing, fascinated by unusual hair colors and eye patches. Watching a lesser creature constantly, attentively and almost obsessively, like a damn stalker would - and not even in the sense you normally watch humans; in the context of predator and prey. With each passing day it became more evident that you were not planning to eat this human.

It was just you, interested in him.

For the first time in your long life, you don't know what you're doing. He messes with the natural order of things and you don't know what to do.

The world has grown old. But not you, nor any of your many sisters. The world has grown old, but it has always been the same to you. There has always been an order to follow. You have been here for longer than you can remember, hidden beneath the waves while the men above came and went, building and destroying everything around them. You have watched them grow into selfish, greedy creatures, thirsting for a dominion over the world they are unable to maintain. Blind to the fact that there are other forms of life besides their own, men see themselves as better and more important, hunting and killing without scruple or consideration those they consider inferior to them. Without remorse.

But it is here, in the far corners of the ocean, that they find retribution for their acts of greed.

Men take everything. But here, shadowed by legends and tales, the sirens feed on men; on proud sailors roaming the vast blue sea, their noses in the air and their egos throbbing that nothing could harm them.

You were the men's reckoning. That was all. This was the natural order of things.

The time for the men on this ship, including their fascinating captain, was approaching, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to prevent such a fate. You shouldn’t entertain mixed feelings for him. You shouldn’t. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t do anything against an entire horde of sirens that would inevitably be here soon. Cultivating any feelings wouldn’t do him any good, much less you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to show up yet. You’ve already given me the proof I needed to know that I’m not insane, and I appreciate that.” He continues his monologue above the surface, unfazed by the lack of response, a small, amused tug at the corner of his pink lips. Below the waters you almost snort, thinking that he definitely shouldn’t be grateful for that. Regardless of whether you decided to show up or not, he would still be considered, at the very least, ‘insane’ by anyone who heard this story later.

His words, however, bring heat to your stomach, rising until it darkens your cheeks.

The Captain Targaryen had graced you with fine words, admittedly, simple as they were, and perhaps there was some truth to them. He had always been different, after all; he lacked the common harshness and cruelty with which captains tended to lead their crews. He had a fair amount of coldness in his speech, true, and his humor was acidic and even dark at times. But he did not seem cruel. He commanded with a firm hand, yes, but also with respect.

Perhaps, deep down, he meant well.

But there was still that voice that screamed that his nature would inevitably betray him. He was human, after all. It was in his nature to be seduced by his own greed and ambition. You only wondered how long it would be before the tide turned and he showed his true colors.

But even knowing all this, you find yourself unable to stop yourself from making the next monumental mistake.

The man sighs wearily one last time, betraying his indifferent facade, the cigarette clutched between his fingers falling to the floor of the deck, just waiting for the usual drag of the sole of his boot. He looks a little longer at the dark waves below, his neutral expression not wavering much, but there is that same glint that screams loneliness flickering discreetly in his blue gaze - the stolen stone singing to you from the other side. He would leave.

Before you think, you are acting.

In your seriously questionable logic, you know that nothing has really changed around you. But in your body powered purely by adrenaline and poor choices, you feel as if even the waves have calmed in response to your action. The world stands still as you push yourself to the surface with a rhythmic undulation of your tail, webbed fingers moving in unison. Even the wind seems to have died down; all you can hear is your blood rushing in your ears. Deep in your chest, something pulls, twists, hurts — sings —

Your head slowly emerges from the water.

It takes a few seconds for the Captain’s gaze to settle on you, and you could have used that time to try to make amends for your rash decision, but you choose not to move. And when he looks at you, his indifferent expression finally cracking to reveal a single wide eye and lips parted to gasp a startled sound and you finely sketch a reaction other than silent hysteria. A shy smile stretches your plush lips as you notices his expression, despite how seriously damaged your nerves are — perhaps irreparably. You did this, you broke that perfect calm of his.

Despite your silent victory, your large, narrow-pupiled eyes stare back at him with apprehension, your heart racing in your chest and your breathing ragged. There’s a moment when neither of you make a move, both frozen in place, unsure of what the hell to do with the surreal scene unfolding right in front of you.

It feels like an eternity in the void before you’re swallowing the uncomfortable lump that’s permanently lodged in your throat, daring to swim in hesitant jerks closer to the vessel.

He watches you with unwavering focus, a little more composed, but still open-mouthed. His steps stagger slightly, but eventually he too makes his way toward the lower part of the ship, where you’re swimming.

You stop when you reach the raised boarding platform, the human slowly approaching from the other side, never taking his eye off you, as if afraid to blink and you’ll disappear. He stops walking when you raise a hand, blinking in surprise at the elastic, almost transparent membrane between your spread fingers.

Somehow he quickly understands what you want, shaking his head once to signal that he won’t go any further from that point. With that, you prop your elbows on the edge of the platform, lifting yourself just a few inches above the surface, the heavy strands slick on your head and saltwater running down your cheeks to drip from the tip of your chin, the bridge of your nose, and the arch of your lips.

“I...fuck, what the hell was in that cigarette anyway?” He gasps and crouches awkwardly, looking away at the length of your long tail swaying beneath the waves, lush fins undulating languidly like a delicate wet veil in the wind. He takes in every last detail of you with absolute focus, leaving you as embarrassed as you're flattered — but mostly, hyper-aware of yourself. But you force yourself to relax, trying to imagine yourself through his gaze.

The countless shiny scales all over your tail range from an endless expanse of onyx to purple at some angles, gradually lightening to the side fins and the end of your tail, tinged with a striking shade of translucent lilac. The purple scales were also dotted softly all over your body; rising in a perfect gradient from the sides of your waist until disappearing into the soft cream of your skin, on the undersides and sides of your forearms and elbows, delicately covering the soft, discreet mounds of your breasts and marking the entire line of your spine.

There is a discreet dusting on the tops of your cheeks, a subtle kaleidoscope of purple and soft pink that transforms into small, bright freckles as your emotions rise - as they are right now. Your full, pink lips hide almost normal teeth, except for the dangerously sharp canines and incisors. Long, thick eyelashes over a pair of large, expressive eyes with slitted pupils like a cat's. Your hair waves around the shoulders, floating beneath the surface of the water in a slow dance, partially hiding the three small lines that mark the gills on either side of your neck. Your hands, though small and seemingly delicate, are adorned with long, sharp claws, as dark as the darkest part of the ocean, the thin translucent membrane between your fingers much stronger than it looks.

It's unnerving how insecure he makes you with his prolonged silence, just looking at every inch of you with his bright eye and parted lips.

You know you're beautiful. If there's any truth to the many tales about your species, it's the undeniably seductive appeal of your appearance. Deadly beauty, the tales say. It's your greatest hunting trick, after all. But under the weight of that watchful gaze, you find yourself unable to escape the clutches of insecurity. What if he didn't find your colors appealing? It's true that your scales aren't as vibrant and colorful as some of your sisters. Your tones are more muted and simple compared to the bright and open ones of your distant relatives. Maybe he found you...too dark?

And why is this human's opinion so important to you?

You huff and straighten up until your shoulders are completely out of the water, the sapphire pendant floating in front of your chest. Your expression takes on notes of embarrassed annoyance, the small freckles on your cheeks and the bridge of your nose shimmering subtly. The human drinks in your reaction attentively, not understanding what they mean, but undeniably fascinated by them.

"You're...holy shit...this is a dream, right? It can't be real. You can't be real." He mutters lazily, voice slurred and thick, wide hands flexing at his sides in two tense fists, the night wind mussing the moon-like strands of his hair. "I knew there was something out there all along, but this...you..." he shakes his head in denial before continuing, "nothing as completely perfect as you can be real."

Oh. The dusting of color on your cheeks deepens and you look away, uncomfortable with the stupid shiver in your belly at the human’s words. Why did he have to be so rudely blunt? You blink the salty sea water out of your eyes a few times before looking back up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning an indifference you don’t feel. Rude, definitely. But, gods, such a handsome rude. His sharp features are as delicate in some ways as they are rough in others. A man, undeniably. The lights from the ship illuminate his striking features, highlighting skin as smooth and pale as the sand on the clearest beach.

Except for one detail.

The flickering yellow of the artificial lights only intensifies the depth of a grotesque scar across that false eye. Your eyes narrow slightly, following the rough, jagged line of the cut that runs from the middle of his forehead down his cheekbone, ending just inches above the corner of his lip. A raw, deep cut, a wound that certainly caused him a lot of pain - perhaps it still does. A scar like that indicates a trauma that cannot be easily overcome after all.

Did he get it while he was behind the ocean's tear?

The thought inevitably brings you back to what was the trigger for this whole colossal mistake, making you quickly focus on the blue stone in his left eye while trying to ignore the discomfort of seeing such a comprehensive wound on this human.

"How..." You rasp, pushing the hoarseness out of your normally melodic timbre, even though your tongue feels uncomfortable inside your mouth and your throat scratches from being used after so much time in silence. The man looks at you with disturbing focus, however, his gaze lazy and bright, his lips slightly parted, as if he were listening to the most enchanting and pure sound of all. "How did you get that?" You point a finger at the stone when you manage to say the words, direct and honest, leaving no room for confusion.

He blinks once.

"Uh, this?" He extends two fingers to the stone in question, tapping its cool surface twice, a slight tug of amusement on his lips. “I found this a while back when diving near a reef. Shinier than anything I've ever seen.” He sounds almost proud as he drawls, though he shrugs at the end — as if the accomplishment isn’t all that big of a deal after all.

Your fascination with the human is eclipsed by the blinding wave of irritation and humiliation that rushes through your veins at the sudden words. What the hell does he mean, ‘found this a while back’? As if the fucking ocean's tear is something a stupid human could just stumble upon by accident? Near a reef, of all places! As if something so inexplicably valuable could be so easily discoverable?

Fuck, as if you didn't literally almost die because of that!

What were the gods doing to you, anyway? What kind of cruel joke was this? How much more would you have to be humiliated by this human before you finally snapped and killed him?

“Liar.” You hiss slowly through your dangerous teeth, refusing to believe this lame version of the story. Your eyes narrow and your nose furrows a fraction, along with your eyebrows. Beneath the surface of the water your tail jerks restlessly, creating a visible ripple in the waves around you. The human, to your silent satisfaction, seems to have some sense after all and notices that something has changed in you. His posture, once reverent and curious, is now more alert and cautious, though he doesn’t pull away immediately. His shoulders roll slowly beneath the shirt and his jaw tenses once before he extends his open hands to you in what should be a reassuring gesture.

"Hey, it's okay..." His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, and it's embarrassing how his calm tone has an effect on you, making you almost instantly relax your fingers clenched into tight fists that you barely noticed you were holding. He remains crouched for a few seconds, but shrugs his shoulders and arches his back a little, as if he wanted to make himself smaller for you. Less threatening. You almost burst out laughing at the sheer silliness of it.

This human wouldn't be a threat to you even if he were at his full height - which you admittedly agree is well above any human you've ever met. Even watching from afar all these nights, it was clear to you that his size surpassed yours in almost every way. Your upper half, of course. He was wide and tall where you were seemingly delicate and fragile. Except for your tail. At its full length you would be much taller than him.

Yes, you may seem delicate overall, but that is just another deceptive hunting device, a feminine appeal that screams fragility and seduction, luring your prey until it is too late for them.

You are anything but weak, and no matter what, he is still human. His strength, as great as it may be, would still be nothing compared to yours. One move, right now, and he would be dead. If you really wanted this, it would be over before he even realized what had happened.

You could wrap your fingers around his ankle and pull him into the dark waters; it would take just the right amount of pressure and speed and he would hit his head on the deck as he fell, probably dying instantly from the blow. But even if he survived that, his end would come quickly beneath the cruel waves of the ocean. Whether from the inevitable loss of oxygen, or the absurd pressure as you pulled him under, or even from the deadly claws you would sink into the fragile flesh of his human body. Or even your fangs, long and sharp as needles as they slice into the pale softness of his throat, draining the life out of him as he gurgle and choke on blood and salt water.

There were at least ten ways you could kill this human right here and now, and you wouldn’t even have to think about it. It would be natural, you’ve done it before. If you wanted to, he’d already be dead.

But…

You don’t want to.

And that’s why you don’t laugh at his attempt to calm you down. You don’t laugh because it’s not funny. There’s no humor in the feeling of mourning in your chest for that instinctive, natural part that seems to have laid down and died inside you. There’s no hunger, no thirst, no desire to make him pay for humanity’s selfish, cruel acts. There’s no predator and prey tonight.

You blink away the sting of tears wanting to form, tense expression softening to something almost melancholic, fins flicking slowly beneath the water. By the seas, you wouldn't cry in front of this human. It would be the height of your humiliation.

"What I said is true, I swear." He continues his soothing murmur, slowly lowering his palms, looking straight into your eyes with such interest and focus that you feel as if it were just the two of you in the world. What a foolish thought. "I actually found the stone by accident. It was just a dive like any other, nothing special. And then it was there. So bright that even hidden under the sand I could see it perfectly." He smiles a little at the memory, reciting the facts calmly and carefully, obviously wanting to avoid angering you again. "It doesn't shine like it used to though, now it looks more like a dead flame or something. I don't think it belongs in the world outside the sea." A tired sigh escapes his lips at the end, his expression almost disappointed - even though he's trying for a reassuring smile.

You snort.

"Of course it isn't. But that's what you humans do, after all. Always taking what doesn't belong to you." You recite the words in a disapproving tone that doesn’t carry as much hate as it should. Not for him, at least.

He looks at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, forearms resting on his knees as he thinks about what you just said.

“Yes. I suppose so.” He murmurs after what feels like a lifetime, exhaling through his nose.

There’s silence between the two of you after that, nothing but the waves crashing against the hull of the ship as he stands contemplatively looking at you, as if searching for answers in your face. He’s not embarrassed by it, nor does he even try to hide his obvious interest in you. It’s unsettling, to say the least, to have this human’s attention so completely on you. Flattering too, but you don’t think much of it.

You definitely don’t want to be the first one to look away, but you’re getting restless with the intense eye contact and the silence, your sharp nails rhythmically drumming on the metal of the plataform. The shiny dust on your cheeks and nose becomes more and more evident, and perhaps the Captain is finally connecting the dots because a small smile stretches his lips - a genuine smile this time, something light and sweet, but undeniably provocative.

"It's doesn't react to you!" You say abruptly, spitting out the first thing that came to mind just to break the tension of the silence between the two of you. But your tone is too shrill and loud not to be seen as suspicious, increasing the color and intensity of the shiny dots on your cheeks and shoulders. The captain raises his eyebrow in amused question, indicating that he hadn't understood. You sigh, swallowing your own embarrassment.

"The stone. It's a special jewel... very sensitive, intelligent even, you could say. It's extremely reactive, just not to everyone." He listens to you attentively and with a sharp gaze, almost making you stumble over your own words a few times. "It doesn't shine like it used to because you're human and the stone know it. The ocean's tear, as it's called, only reacts to...uh, well...sea creatures." You find yourself irritatingly unable to explicitly say what you are, even though it's more than obvious by now. Some kind of throbbing self-consciousness takes hold of your mind, the very real realization that he can and probably will come to the inevitable conclusion that you and he are creatures from different worlds tightens your vocal cords and stops you from continuing.

Good heavens, as if the disparity between the two of you wasn't already obvious enough. Why would you suddenly be worried about it?

“Creatures like you, I suppose.” He contemplates, ruining your earlier subtlety with his irritating honesty. A small, sullen pout forms on your lower lip at that, more glittering dust of color staining your cheeks.

This was getting beyond ridiculous.

“Here.” You sigh grudgingly, breaking eye contact to pull the blue pendant from your long necklace between your thumb and forefinger. The stone is, as you said, reactive and immediately comes to life under your touch, singing and vibrating in the most beautiful shade of blue; prisms of diamonds and sapphires, resplendent and pure. The Captain Targaryen has the decency to look positively delighted to see this — as he should — and you smile softly at his reaction, finding great satisfaction in his rosy cheeks and bright gaze.

And then he’s standing to walk towards you, but stops short when you narrow your eyes and tense.

"It's okay. It's okay. I just want to..." he points to the stone, and you look at it. Then at him. And at the stone. And back at him. "I just want to get a closer look. But it's okay, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You're already uncomfortable, you want to scream. You've been uncomfortable for weeks now. He's seen you, talked to you, heard more words from you than you've said to any other human - more words than you've said to any species in a long time, including your own. None of it made you comfortable. And yet, here you were. It would be a stupid, reckless mistake, no doubt about it. But you've been nothing but stupid and reckless these past few days. It couldn't get any worse.

(Yes, it could.)

"It's okay." You mumble, relaxing the muscles in your body and softening your expression into what you hope is something more friendly, more inviting. "You can come closer."

"Yeah?" He asks and you just nod once, not wanting to repeat yourself.

It takes him a few seconds to continue, but eventually moves. The tops of his boots are quickly soaked as he lowers onto the platform, the salty water lapping in small waves at his ankles. Something in your stomach feels alive, you notice with apprehension as you hold his gaze, fluttering and growing colder with each step he takes towards you. A sort of instinct growing and taking over you, taking over the strings of your body as if you were just watching everything from the outside, without control.

Your arms seek better support on the deck and you push yourself up, sitting as best you can on the floor, your back against the edge of the vessel, most of your tail still floating under the water. It's an instinctive reaction, really, and you barely realize what you're doing before it's done. It's not comfortable, you realize immediately, but what's done is done and the human's dumbfounded look is worth the awkward position.

"I..." he begins uncertainly, crouching back down on his knees, this time right next to you, taking your permission to come closer very seriously.

His gaze inevitably drops to where your breasts are exposed, his chest rising and falling faster the longer he keeps his attention there. It's not an offensive behavior, although it still makes you self-conscious in a funny way. It's not his fault, really. They're just there, in front of him - without any of the fabric coverings that humans are used to wearing. It would be impossible not to notice. And, well, they're different. You know they're not the conventional breasts he's used to seeing, most likely. Unlike human breasts, your soft mounds are dotted with flexible, delicate scales in a prism of lavender and purple, with no nipples in sight. But they're still breasts, and he's still a man. So he stares, until he realizes he's still staring. His pale cheeks grow pinker and he quickly looks up at your face as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

A shy, yet somewhat mischievous smile stretches your lips despite your nerves.

"Fuck, this is insane." He scratches the back of his neck as he half laughs, half gasps, and for the first time, you find yourself agreeing wholeheartedly with this human. This is insane.

His reaction makes you relax a little, and soon you're holding the stone between your humiliatingly trembling fingers again and holding it out to him, as far as the necklace around your neck allow. He's closer to you than he's ever been, so close that you can smell the ghost of artificial mint tobacco on his breath. It's horrible. It's perfect.

The wind is more urgent now, whistling and howling and foaming water hitting the sides of the ship harder - as if the elements themselves are trying to warn you of the dangers of this approach.

You don't listen.

"It's...perfect." The captain whispers as he holds the stone, his long fingers inevitably brushing yours during the exchange, sending an electrifying, heated sensation through your entire body. He lowers his head to get a better look at the stone that gradually fades as it is held by his human hand, the vibrant and ethereal glow of blue fading to a darker shade. "Look at this, I guess I'm nothing special, hm?" He says this smiling, the stone still clutched in his fingers raised between your bodies, your faces close to each other. When he looks up at yours you are already looking at him, blinking with your large and expressive eyes.

Your own fingers raise, hesitant and curious, to the stone in his eye. You are slow with it, giving both him time to stop you if he wants to and yourself, but in the end neither of you reacts. The human just looks at your fingers before slowly shifting to your eyes once more, the night wind pushing a strands of silver between your faces until they touch your cheeks in a strangely intimate caress. When the tip of your two fingers touches the cool surface of the jewel it reacts immediately, drawing a sigh from both of you. The gem shines, warms under your touch, singing in vibrant and lively tones.

"I can feel -" The man murmurs almost breathlessly, blue eye wide open, dark pupil dilating like an endless black hole, searching your gaze as if you held all the answers he needs.

"What can you feel?" Your voice is no better than his, just as small and low. Your trembling fingers still on the jewel, feeling its vibration, listening reverently to the secret and silent song that it could only sing for you. The pure brightness reflects on your face, illuminating your features with a soft blue shade, enchanting the man in front of you as if you were an angelic image. A mythical and unattainable creature. A siren, in fact.

"I can feel...you." He confides with a reverent look, your own jewel still firmly gripped in his fingers, although inert and dark. The disparity should be frightening -; under your touch the gems shine and come to life, in his they wither and fall asleep. It should be just another indisputable proof in the already very high pile of evidence of how unnatural any involvement between you two would be.

But the collision is inevitable like the approaching storm.

He moves, leaning his body to kneel on the floor, soaking the fabric of his pants with the cold waves that partially cover this part of the deck. His tall, broad-shouldered body shadows yours, naturally trapping you against the side of the ship. Simultaneously you both release the grip your had on the jewels, as if you felt something had changed in the air. The pulsing muscle in your chest seems more intense and faster than ever as you looks at that stupid human, so close and so bold.

"What's your name?" He asks quietly, watching you so closely that you can barely focus on what was said, the question coming to you like an afterthought or a bruise that you only notice hours after it happened.

A name? Gods, how long has it been since you were called by your own name? How many decades has it been since someone cared enough to ask?

You whisper your name to him, confiding a part of yourself that was rarely spoken to anyone.

"..." he murmurs back, your own name sounding like the sunset over the ocean as it leaves his lips, beautiful and peaceful, yet breathtaking. You blink slowly, feeling as if inverse forces are at work in this moment. Feeling as if he has the gift of enchantment, unlike you. What is happening? "I am -"

"Captain Targaryen," you are quick to add, already accustomed to hearing his crew repeat his designation.

"Well, yes, that is usually what I am called..." he laughs softly, tilting his head an inch closer to you, meeting your gaze over the bridge of his nose. "But it is not my name."

Oh. Yes, of course. You know it.

He touches a damp strand of your hair, curious and gentle before letting the pad of his finger trace over the delicate curve of your nose, the outline of your eyebrows.

“Aemond,” the captain murmurs, and then presses the pad of his thumb against your lip, gently. You shiver, exhaling shakily at the touch. “My name is Aemond.”

Aemond.

The name rolls off your tongue and you repeat it, sweet as molasses, petal lips sliding against his thumb as you do so. He swallows with an almost mesmerizing movement of his Adam’s apple, heated gaze following the way his thumb presses against the soft fur of your bottom lip once more before he lets go of the touch. It’s almost disappointing to miss, but soon you realize he’s touching the bright freckles high on your cheeks and nose, one at a time, and then further to scratch along the shadows of color in your skin.

He’s close, almost sharing the same breath with you, so intensely interested in you that your heart catches in a slow burst of heat — of desire. An old feeling, hidden and locked away beneath layers of loneliness.

The gills on the sides of your neck itch and your throat starts to tighten from being out of the water for so long, a warning that you need to get back in soon. You know that.

You won’t.

Heart in your throat, you let him smooth your cheek with soft touches, thumb tracing the entire length of the curve of your jaw until it caresses the shape of your ear. His gaze is heavy on yours, mesmerized and fascinated, even though you haven’t used any of your gifts of enchantment. Not this time. Never with him.

“Beautiful.” He sings you an honest compliment and is so gentle, careful, hesitant even, as he pulls your face to his, and you feel the whisper of a nose slowly sliding against yours before thunder is heard in the distance. The sound isn't loud or clear enough to alert the human, but your sensitive ears are able to hear it perfectly and it's enough to snap you out of whatever spell you were trapped in.

He blinks rapidly with his one functional eye, the stone beside him now darkened to its previous shade of navy blue as you freeze and turn away from him, returning to the water with an abrupt and unkind movement. You keep your head above the surface however, staring at the heavy clouds forming more and more in the vastness above, feigning indifference to everything that has happened while your heart still thunders in your chest.

"A storm is coming." Is all you say, praying to any divine being that may exist that your expression is as serene and calm as you are trying to pretend.

The Captain - Aemond - is standing in the same position, looking at you with that stupid face, so confused and hesitant, as if trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

"Uh... I don't -"

He tried to reach out, tried to touch your hand as it floated above the waves, but you jerked away from him, sending him a narrowed, warning look, sharp fangs bared in a loud hiss.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, and your voice is venomous to him, for the first time. It hurts you to see the surprise on his face, the silent beginning of that realization that you could be a dangerous thing after all. You are.

It hurts, but you welcome the feeling. It is all your fault. If you hadn’t been so reckless, none of this would have happened. This human would meet his inevitable death at the claws of one of his sisters without the knowledge that you existed. Without you having experienced being in his presence, feeling his touch on your skin, having his attention entirely on you. It would be easier, for both of you.

Aemond Targaryen was every rule of survival that you ignored.

It was like one of those Greek tragedies that humans talked about so much.

The storm is approaching quickly and with it the end of this Captain and his sailors. The horde of sirens was aware of their presence, as it had been for days, just waiting for nature to intervene to create the perfect scenario for the attack. It would be reported later as a shipwreck, an unfortunate accident at sea that could easily be dismissed without suspicion. There was nothing you could do to stop it, even if you wanted to. And gods help you, you want to.

But you can’t save him.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

You stare at the dark cloud formation above once more, taking a deep breath to control the frightening wave of emotions that threatens to break your nerves.

“Why not?” he asks, sensing the warning in your voice, and you shake your head slightly, eyes filling with tears — tears you haven’t shed since you earned your Ocean's Tear. He calls your name and you still don’t respond. “Y/n, tell me why I shouldn’t be here.”

He presses, a little harder now, a little more concerned, and you should respond. You should warn him about the dangers that lurk in the depths of the ocean and the bloody future predestined for him and his sailors. He deserved that much at least, right? But then again, what good would that do? What good would there be in knowing about a tragedy he can't avoid?

"I'm so sorry." You sigh without looking at him, shoulders shaking with emotions that seem too big for your body to handle. "I'm really sorry..." your voice breaks and a tear runs down your cheek as you look up at him, the sparkling freckles on your cheeks highlighted and your brows furrowed in anguish.

"...What?" He's confused, of course, not understanding the whirlwind of events that followed your contact on the ship. He senses your anguish, your reluctance to tell him what needs to be said. And, gods, he looks so beautiful like this. Icy breeze blowing his silver locks in front of his face, his eye bright and his skin pale as moonlight. "Why are you crying? Please talk to me."

You slowly approach the edge of the deck again, where he's kneeling, still waiting for you. Your chest is tight and your hands are shaking, but you think you’ll tell him. You think you’ll tell him what you know will happen, even if you’re both powerless to fight the forces of fate. He looks at you, his calm and captain’s confidence taking over again, reassuring you. Your lips part to start to speak, but the sound of approaching footsteps sends a chill down both of your spines.

You hesitate for a second, staring at him with wide eyes. Aemond is also alert, allowing himself to look at you one more time before saying:

“Go, now! He can’t know about you!” He’s right. No human could know about you and still be alive. But here you were, staring at one you didn’t intend to kill. “Wait-” He keeps his voice low as he watches you prepare to go, though his tone is urgent. His gaze is pleading, not wanting to leave you but knowing he has to. “Come back tomorrow, please.”

You coo, a sad sound, wanting to tell him there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Not for him, at least. But instead, you wrap your smaller hand around his, careful of your claws, leaving a gentle grip on his knuckles as you look up at him with teary eyes.

“Take care, Captain Targaryen.” That’s all you say before you dive into the dark expanse of the ocean, never looking back. You couldn’t. Not when you felt so helpless. The jewel hanging from your neck protests and burns your skin so much that it even tears a grunt of pain from your lips, but you don't stop swimming, powerful fins pushing you as deep into the ocean as you can go. Silently you curse the stupid thing for not giving any sign of life in all these years, but choosing this moment to show that it was there.

The final act of this tale of tragedy was herep and your human would meet his bitter end at the merciless claws of one of his sisters.

You can't save him.

You can't...

You...

You can?

(And why did you think of him as 'your human' now?)

411 notes · View notes

lqvesoph · 1 year ago

Text

Is it over now - LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"

warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)

a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones

masterlist | taglist

You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.

Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.

You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.

Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.

Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.

His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.

But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.

He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.

But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.

Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".

You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.

"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.

You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.

"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.

"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.

"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.

Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.

Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.

Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.

The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.

"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.

"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"

"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.

You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.

"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.

"Uh-hmm."

"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.

"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.

"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.

"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.

"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.

No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.

How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?

"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.

An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.

Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.

And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.

"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.

"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.

"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.

"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.

He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.

"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.

Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.

"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.

"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.

"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.

Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you

Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.

"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.

You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.

"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.

Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.

"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"

Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.

"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.

Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.

But instead he backed off.

"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.

"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.

Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.

"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.

Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.

"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.

"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.

"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.

"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.

"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.

"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.

Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.

His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.

"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.

"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.

Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.

His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.

Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.

Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.

"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.

You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.

While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.

"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.

Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.

"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.

"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.

His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.

Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.

His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.

"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.

Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.

"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.

His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.

"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.

"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.

"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.

"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"

You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.

"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.

He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"

"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.

"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.

"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.

Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"

"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.

You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.

"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.

"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.

He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.

"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"

His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.

You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.

There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.

The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.

"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"

"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.

"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.

Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.

"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.

The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.

"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.

"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"

"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.

"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.

You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.

"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.

A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.

Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.

Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.

"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.

Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.

"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"

You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.

You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.

As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.

Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.

You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.

Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.

His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.

"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.

He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.

"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.

You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.

You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.

But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.

"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.

You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.

Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.

Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.

"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.

You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.

Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.

He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.

You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.

When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.

Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.

"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.

You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.

"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.

Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.

"Was it ever really over?"

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natalievoncatte · 6 months ago

Text

“Kara?”

She doesn’t answer. Lena’s presence doesn’t surprise her; Kara Danvers always knows where Lena Luthor is, at least as long as there’s a way for the sound of her heart to find Kara’s ears, no matter how soft or faint it might be. In her ruminations Kara thinks on that before she speaks. Even when they were at their worst, when they were hurting each other in every way that mattered, Kara would stop and listen.

It was a secret and sacred thing, a transgression that she would never admit. She would confess to scoping Lena out with her x-ray vision first. She’d never actually done that, but she’d pretend-admit before confessing that, sometimes, she’d listen to Lena’s heart as she slept and drift off to its slow and steady beat.

They’re by the sea, at the Danvers family home. It’s been a year since Alex and Kelly married and a small, core group have gathered here in this house by the waves to celebrate the anniversary. It’s just Alex and Kelly of course and Esme, and Lena and Kara. And Eliza.

She lives here, after all.

Nia and Brainy are in town in an AirBnB, and they’ve been by the house but are mostly doing their own thing. They’ll marry soon, Kara thinks. They have that air about them, the way that Alex and Kelly did before the proposal.

There is a sense of finality to it all that has fallen over Kara like the shadow of a passing storefront, and she sits where she can watch the ocean waves roll in, chin propped on arms resting on knees, curled up and watching the waves reach the high water mark and roll back.

Lena stands beside her now, seemingly unconcerned that Kara hasn’t answered her. This happens a lot now. There are companionable silences. Lena spends half her days in Kara’s home, working from a laptop on Kara’s kitchen counter while Kara writes at the kitchen table.

A lot has happened. Cat Grant offered her the role of EIC at CatCo; Kara rejected it. She’d mad furtive plans to reveal her identity, then canceled them. She’d told Cat but asked that it end there and Cat had respected it, then gone on an esoteric retreat at an eel farm or… something. Kara still submitted articles to CatCo but on a freelance basis, and she was submitting more articles elsewhere lately.

Actually, very little had happened. Kara had more time to really write, now. She put on her suit and flew out the window less and less, being less needed.

Lena sits down next to her and assumes a similar pose. Kara can’t help but look at her; she has never been able to resist looking at Lena Luthor. That too has changed. She doesn’t steal a glance this time, she studies, lets her gaze linger. She looks at the way the light of the golden hour plays with Lena’s soft, easy beauty. Her sort-of-roommate skipped putting on makeup this morning and her hair is down in a mop of air-dried dark curls, some of them lazily riding the breeze around her head. Some of it falls across her face and Kara fights the urge to sweep it back with a soft brush of her fingers.

Lena is beautiful. The warm light makes her pale skin glow, brings out the sparkle in her blue-green eyes, as deep as the sea they watch. There is a soft playful hint of a smile on her lips, but her brows are furrowed.

Kara thinks back to the last time she spoke to J’onn. She told the man, the closest thing she had left to a father in the world, about how she was wearing the cape less and working more, about Lena, about how Alex and Kelly seemed to be moving on, both of them now retired from the insanity of her lives and Alex actually planning to practice medicine.

“That’s what happens,” J’onn told her. “Things pass. Stories end. The great deeds are done, the archenemies vanquished, the miracles all performed. After that is just life.”

Kara wasn’t sure what that meant. In her life -almost sixty years, that she’d experienced as less than thirty- she’d packed in the experiences of a hundred lifetimes. She’d watched her world die, found her family, lost them, made a new one. She’d loved and lost and she’d even died- twice. She’d spent two eternities in her own personal hell.

Kara lets out a slow sigh. She’s still looking at Lena.

They have to have this conversation. Kara just doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. The problem is obvious. Lena and Kara had arrived this morning a few hours after Kelly and Alex, and found that Eliza had, as to be expected, already planned out who was bunking where.

“Alex and Kelly have Alex’s old room,” Eliza had told them, after hugging Lena. “Esme has Kara’s old room, and you and Lena can take the guest bedroom.”

When the words left her foster mother’s mouth, Kara’s heart raced. If Lena thought anything of it, she gave no sign. Kara was on the verge of panic.

Eliza had given the two of them a room with one bed. A small room, a shared room that would give two people no privacy.

Does she think we’re…?

Kara had considered the possibility before. She wasn’t blind or oblivious to a fluttering heart beat or lip bites or long stares, but…

“I’m scared,” Kara says, and she looks away.

She can feel Lena looking at her, gaze unwavering.

“What about?”

Kara swallows hard. She doesn’t know if Lena realizes what Eliza has assumed yet, if she’s put it together. She must have, because she came out here looking for Kara. Kara hadn’t run away exactly, but she had fled. She needed to think.

“One thing I’ve learned,” Kara says, “is that once you say something, you can’t un-say it. You can’t change the truth once it’s been told.”

Lena nods softly. She knows. They learned the same lesson from the same cruel trick.

“Do you know why I held on to my secret for so long?”

“You always said it was to protect me, and I didn’t accept that. Then when…” Lena pauses heavily, “when we moved on, I never really asked again.”

Kara swallows. “I lied. I did it for me.”

Lena says nothing.

“I was scared. I was afraid that once I told you, it would be the same with you as it was with everyone else. Once people know Kara is Supergirl, then Kara stops being Kara. Kara is just Supergirl’s real name.”

Kara’s breath hitches. She glances at Lena, who watches intently.

“I was wrong. I should have known better. I should have trusted you.”

“Yes,” said Lena. “You should have. I should have tried to understand you. To understand why instead of projecting my own insecurities onto your choice. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I forgave you.”

Waves crash in the silence.

“I would forgive you anything.”

“Even beating the last potsticker?”

“I’m serious, Lena.”

Lena sighs. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“You saw the room.”

Lena nods.

“Your mom seems to be assuming that we share a bed,” Lena says.

Kara swallows hard.

“The last time I was with Nia, she asked when I’m selling the penthouse, because she assumed I’ve been planning to move into your loft.”

Kara groped her knees because her hands are shaking. She grips her knees to stop them but it makes her legs shake instead.

Lena shifts closer, scooting across the grass. She’s not touching Kara but it feels like she is. Her touch becomes and threatens. They share space, the sea breeze passing over them as one. Lena looks at her through a tangle of inky curls and her eyes are infinite, searching Kara for something.

“I have deemed a dream,” Kara whispers. “I fear if I dream it too deeply I’ll suddenly wake, and when I wake it’ll be gone the way dreams always are, and it will fade as fast as any dream. The thought of losing it hurts so bad it makes it feel like my chest is caving in.”

Kara looks at Lena now. She looks so young, she is young. Her power suits and makeup and air of command and defiance all make her seem almost matronly but here with Kara that mask is gone and beneath it is her true self, her secret self that not even their friends see, a young girl who’s never been young.

Just like Kara.

“What if you woke up and the dream came true?”

“Sometimes,” Kara admits, “I wonder if you’re real. I used to dream of things when I floated in my pod and they seemed so real…”

“It’s real, Kara,” Lena whispers, soft and breathy. “It’s real and I’m not going anywhere. Nothing has to change. It’s just going to evolve. I know what you want to say and I’ve been scared of it too. What you’re saying, I can feel it in my soul… when the Luthors took me in, I used to dream that my mom was alive. I’d wake up smelling breakfast and hearing her sing and when I realized it was just a dream it was like she died again every morning.”

“I love you.”

Lena stares at her. Kara hears Lena’s steady pulse flutter and begins to stammer.

“I know I’ve said it before. I mean I’m in love with-“

Lena presses a finger to her lips.

“I know. Stop telling me and show me.”

Kara freezes, not sure what she meant. Lena twisted languidly and leaned towards her. Kara freezes briefly and then just lets go, moving on instinct. Using a little strength she pulls Lena into her lap, gently touches her chin, and tilts her back a touch, to kiss her.

It is at once tentative and soft and absolutely explosive. Kara forces back tears, as Lena embraces her with all her strength, molding herself to Kara as if she means to climb inside her. For all her urgency, her kiss is just as delicate, just as tender and exploratory.

It is as it has always been. They compliment each other perfectly, moving together without a word needed, Kara breaks the kiss because Lena needs air and lowers her to the grass, fully on top of her now, brushing lose strands of hair back from her face to kiss her again and again and again, each kiss ah apology, each brushing of lips a lament for time lost.

They could have been doing this for years.

Lena arches under her, grinding hungrily, kissing her furiously. She moans softly as Kara’s hands find bare skin and Kara murmurs a Kryptonian prayer against her lips, and her thighs rise to bracket Kara’s hips.

Kara feels it all. The desire, the lust, the need, and above all the unbridled joy. This is no dream. It’s real. It’s happening. It’s…

“Eww,” Alex says.

Kara snaps up, acutely aware that her hand is halfway up Lena’s now-askew top, and that Lena has leg-locked them together. Lena lets her head fall back and peers up at Alex.

“Eliza sent me to find you two. Dinner is ready,” Alex sighs, then turns, muttering,

“Get a room. Sheesh.”

Lena cracks first, unleashing a gale of laughter.

“Let me go,” she protests.

Kara lets her…. briefly. Play-wrestling ensues, and Lena just know that Kara is letting her win as they roll in the grass, but it no longer matters. Lena is flushed and grass-stained and joy burns her in her eyes and-

“Come on!” Alex bellows.

Kara helps her up, and they head for the house.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #love confessions #play wrestling #lena luthor x kara danvers #sad lena luthor #sad Kara danvers #let them kiss #hugging it out #soulmates #idiots in love

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rainyorca · 4 months ago

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You know I love you girl 𓇼 Kenji Sato X Reader

Content warnings: F!reader, hurt, comfort, established relationship, smut, pnv, cunnilings.

Words: 2,029

Notes: Probably my last short one until I finish my long form one. Anyways, I am all about soft kenji so pls enjoy <33.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

Sometimes, not so often, you and Kenji will get into these little disagreements, simple fights in other words. And sometimes, neither of you will apologize, you’ll both go to sleep angry, backs facing each other rather than holding each other. You both need your space after fights, a little time to really sit and think, and then you’ll apologize or he’ll apologize and things will be back to normal.

But recently, you got upset about something that started this whole problem. You can put up with Kenji’s life as a celebrity, him taking pictures with fans and doing the whole sports celebrity thing but him being gone all the time bothers you a bit. You were fine with it before but something about it just really grinds your gears now. You don't say anything about it at first, that is until he tells you a specific time he's coming home, and then he comes home hours later without saying a word. The first time it happened you brushed it off, he apologized, explained what happened and that was that.

However, around the fourth time, you explained to him why it was making you upset, and asked him why he kept forgetting to let you know. Kenji isn't a cheater, you know that very well, he would never do anything like that to you but you just can't help but wonder what he's up to.

“I don't understand why it's so hard to at least send me a text,” you say, your tone firm but voice rather soft. You never yell, rarely ever raise your voice, Kenji is the same way except sometimes he can get a little carried away. “I just dont see the problem, you have my location,” he points out, the tone of his voice makes you nearly lose it. You two had been going at it for thirty minutes now and you were about fed up, tired of his excuses. “It doesn't matter that I have your location,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s still important that you tell me you're gonna be a little late, if you just sent me a text, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.” Some harsh words were said from the both of you, the argument about his absence turning into a fight about a plethora of other things. Eventually you gave up, frustrated and upset, eyes stinging with tears, you decided to go to bed a little earlier that night.

About an hour later, you're still awake, staring at the dark ceiling. You left the curtains open to let some cool light from the city and moon pour in. The familiar click of the door opening could be heard throughout the silent room, you turn around, back facing the door to avoid any contact. Kenji stands in the doorway, shirtless, the scent of his body wash rushes into the room, sea salt and cedar. He stares at your backside covered by the silk blankets, a pang of guilt stabs him in the heart. You hear the door close softly, squeezing your eyes shut to pretend you're asleep as he gets in bed with you. His eyes linger on your face for a while.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, sitting up right in the bed, “I’ve seen you asleep thousands of times and I know your face doesn't look anything like that.” His words make you sigh, opening your tired eyes slowly, glaring at him. He feels bad, you can tell just by the way he's staring down at you. “Look, I'm sorry,” he finally says, “I know I should text you when I'm gonna be longer, and honestly I get a little tired of being out all the time.”

“I wish I could be here with you every moment of the day and night,” he continues, reaching under the blanket and grabbing one of your hands, “and I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean any of it.” He places a gentle kiss on your palm, his lips soft against your skin. You think for a moment, appreciating the fact that he's apologizing even if it's an hour later. “I'm sorry too,” you say softly, voice muffled, “I just wish I could spend more time with you.”

“I know,” he hums, “I do too.” You stare at each other for a minute in silence before Kenji suddenly pulls the blanket down lower on your body. A smile graces his face when he sees you wearing one of his shirts, he toys with the fabric momentarily before gently pushing you onto your back. Before you can say anything he crawls on top of you, pressing his lips onto your forehead before grabbing your waist and scooting you up further on your pillow a bit. Kenji was rather skilled with his hands, and his silence. He was practically fluent in touches, enough to make you forget the events of what happened earlier. His lips travel to your neck as his hands explore your somewhat exposed body, running them up through the shirt and then down to your bare thighs. His breath gentle against your supple neck, nipping and kissing at your wonderful skin. He pulls away, trailing kisses down to where the shirt starts and then he sits up, nestling himself between your legs and placing gentle, mellow kisses on your legs. It's not long before he reaches your thighs, giving them the same treatment he had the rest of your body. He places his hands on your thighs, holding your legs open and rubbing your skin with his thumbs.

His lithe fingers curl under your panties suddenly, moving them to the side. It catches you off guard, so naturally you flinch, looking down at him with glossed over eyes. “Relax,” he breathes, his breath fanning over your already soaked cunt, “I just wanna make it up to you.” You watch him open his mouth slowly, sticking his tongue out and pressing it against your clit. The feeling makes you twitch and you lay your head on the pillow with a quiet whimper. You feel him wrap his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking and licking softly. He was without a doubt, so excellently skilled at this, you would mark it as another language he was fluent in. Surrounded by your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin and leaving red marks with his short nails, his mouth working at your core. Everything about this moment had you on edge. His tongue eventually slips into your cunt, keeping a reasonable pace as he watches you writhe simply because of his mouth.

He gasps into your cunt, pulling away briefly before burying his head between your legs again. His eyes closed, determined expression written all over his slicked face. At this point, hungrily, rolling your hips into his mouth, his nose bumping your clit ever so often. He reaches up, pressing a hand on your stomach. “Stop moving, love,” he breathes, pulling away from your weeping cunt, “let me take care of you.” Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling on his black locks when his mouth meets your cunt again.

“Kenji,” you breathe, your head moving side to side on the satin pillow. The familiar heat pools in your stomach, threatening to release in an intense orgasm, but the feeling is pulled away from you along with Kenji’s mouth. “I know, I know,” he says softly when you let out a noise of protest, “I’ll let you feel it in a minute.” You watch him tug his sweats off, along with his boxers. He grabs his cock with a large hand, angling so his flushed tip rubs against your dripping entrance. He leans down, his lips graze over your neck. You tilt your head up, sucking in a breath when you feel him slide into you. “Fuck,” he sighs, a grin appearing on his sculpted face, “it’s been so long.” His breathing is shaky as he slides deeper into you, filling you to the brim until his tip nuzzles just perfectly against your sweet spot. He stretches you out pleasantly, your plush walls already tightening around him. You see his adam's apple bob with a swallow, his eyes trained on your face, focused on your contorted expression of pleasure. A whimper slips off your tongue as he pulls out slowly before pressing back in. Your eyes close as he continues to thrust into you, mouth open in a silent moan.

With every slow, deep thrust of his hips, stars blur your vision, eyes watering as he fucks the tears out of you. “Ken–” you whine, breathless and quiet, each stroke practically taking your breath away. “I wanna hear you, baby,” he says, his voice hoarse but gentle. Another deep thrust, hitting your sweet spot perfectly makes you cry out, reaching up and digging your nails into his back. The feeling of your nails makes goosebumps rise on his skin, knowing that you're gonna leave marks for him to see in the morning. He smiles, completely drunk on the feeling of your warm cunt, a quiet chuckle, barely audible, heard from his filthy lips.

“Even when im gone,” he groans, fucking into you with a bit of a quicker pace now, but not too fast, “when im busy, you know I still think about you. You’re always on my mind.” The sound of his groans fills the room, mixed with your soft moans. “You feel so good,” he grunts, his hips connecting to yours before pulling back slowly, “seriously, all I think about is you and this perfect cunt that I’ve missed so much.”

His soft, wet lips graze yours, making you open your lidded eyes. “Kiss me,” he says, firmly, “please, hm?” His little hum makes you lose your mind, you love it when he does that. You cup his face, pulling him down just a bit until your lips finally connect. He moans into your mouth, slipping his tongue inside by force almost. Your back arches, thighs tighten as he continues to repeatedly hit that sweet spot in you.

The heat pools inside you again, your moans and ragged breathing picking up in volume, his thrusts still continuing at the same, even pace. “Kenji—ah—fuck, Kenji—!” You mewl, throwing your head back, parting from the heated kiss with him. “Gonna cum for me?” He says, dirty but still in that same gentle tone, “hm?”

“Y-Yes,” you gasp out, “ah, yes.” He smiles again, your whiny pleads sending shivers down his spine as the pleasure climbs up yours. Your plush walls tighten around him like a vice as your climax builds up in you. “Good girl, cum for me” he whispers, his lips trailing up the line of your jaw. It’s almost as if those simple words were the signal for you, because seconds later your peak crests and you cum all over his cock. You cry out for him, desperately arching your back and scratching lines into his with your nails. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your orgasm as your tears fall just as they had before. At this point, you're too blinded by your orgasm and his cock to even tell if he’s cumming himself.

Your whole body shudders as you come to rest back on the bed, the silk sheets sticking to your sweaty skin. He sits up, staring at your fucked out state. Your chest rises slowly as you attempt to chase your breath, your eyes shut tightly, mouth open and brows furrowed. Both your arms sprawled out about your head, twitching as you came down from your release. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, still watching your face for any change. He gets up, leaving the room momentarily before returning with a towel, carefully and gently, he removes your panties and cleans you up before cleaning himself up. He gets you a new pair of panties before snuggling back into bed with you, pulling you into his arms tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling him in even tighter.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato smut #⋆｡𖦹°‧ukume!#ken sato smut #ultraman rising

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minarisplaything · 10 months ago

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High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung

Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody

Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.

Or maybe that was just you.

When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.

All this was to say it wasn’t easy.

But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.

“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.

You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.

Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.

“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.

“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.”

“So you follow them?”

“Them?”

“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.

One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.

You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.

That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.

It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.

“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.

“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”

“Oh, I remember.”

You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.

“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.

“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”

You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”

“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.

The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.

“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”

“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”

She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.

“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.

By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.

“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”

Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.

“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”

Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.

If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.

Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.

"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."

Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."

She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."

Oh.

You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.

"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.

A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.

"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.

Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.

"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.

"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.

Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."

"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.

There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.

"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."

"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.

"Is the princess feeling full?"

"So, so full…" she cooed.

"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.

You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.

You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.

A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.

"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."

She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.

"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"

One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.

"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."

Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.

"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"

It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."

You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.

"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""

You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.

Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.

Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.

After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.

"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.

"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."

You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."

Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.

"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.

Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.

"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."

A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #girl group smut #ive imagines #wonyoung imagines #ive x reader #male reader #wonyoung x male reader

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