#you know this bitch glows in the dark | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wintaerbaer · 9 months ago

Text

bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. ��And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic

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mv1simp · 2 months ago

Note

I love your stories so much, please write more dark manipulative Max, maybe something with mindbreak or bimbofication of an innocent reader? It would be fun if she was Toto's daughter and Max so holds it over Toto.

this is for all the dark!Max/toto’s daughter/bimbo/mindbreak reader requests all you freaks have been requesting 😼😼 for the first time i have something for the dark!lando girlies!!

Double Fantasy ♥️

Max Verstappen x Lando’s Fuckbuddy!Reader

I can tell that you think that I’m right for you, I already know that it's not true, but girl I'll lie to you (even though it's wrong)

Recently becoming a media executive for the FIA, you can’t deny that your dream job has given you access to your dream men. Sadly, your top pick, Max Verstappen doesn’t look twice your way - not interested in the daughter of Toto Wolff, who he openly dislikes. But you gladly enjoy your consolation prize of being Lando Norris’s fuckbuddy. You didn’t realise just how far Lando planned on extending your arrangement when he pisses the Dutch champion off one step too far - and now needs to figure out the perfect gift to give Max and make amends.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark! max, dark! Lando, but bimbo!reader is into it lol, have done a twist on the usual innocent! reader, she’s toto’s daughter also, dubcon, blindfold, BDSM, no threesomes sorry I can’t share max with anyone else, WC 5.6k

Multiple heads turn your way as you make your way down the FIA garage, your YSL black and gold heels clicking smoothly on the floor. You can’t hold back the pleased smile on your pink glossed lips at the appreciative glances over your curvy figure. At 22, you’ve landed your dream job as a marketing and media executive for the FIA. Glowing recommendations, a perfect GPA and of course a touch of good old fashioned nepotism via your dad, the Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff, landed you here, dressed in luxury outfits and regularly networking with some of the richest people on the continent. What can you say? You’re a material girl, after all, with a pleasure for the finer things in life.

And that included an appreciation of rich, powerful men that you inherited as a result of a strict and emotionless father who preferred to spend his time running a motorsports corporation instead of at home. Daddy issues, one might even say (actually your therapist had said exactly that.) So the Formula One grid, filled to the brim with hot, millionaire drivers who have no issue flirting with the new pretty little toy on the paddock, was the perfect place for a girl like you to work. You definitely had your fun, arriving a few months ago for your first day, dressed in a tight yet full length maxi dress, giving you the perfect blend of sexy and demure that had much of the paddock panting after you.

But you were a girl with a taste for luxury - you weren’t going to settle for any dirty mechanic or plain news reporter. No, what you wanted more than anything, was to get the best of both worlds like your lucky bitch of a stepmom Susie Wolff had done - FIA executive and WAG of the hottest and richest team principal. Even you had to admit, apart from your dad, the rest of the principals were a little bit too far on the balding old men side. But the drivers, you thought wickedly, the drivers were a completely different story. And they knew they were some of the most desired men on the planet, with their fame and status. Their egos were sky high - especially since multiple women would be throwing themselves at them every race weekend or media day. So you had made sure to play the game very, very carefully - unlike the other sultry models on the paddock, or conservative women dressed head to toe in basic team gear, you were the very picture of innocence with your sweet makeup and dark curls, cute girly dresses and heels, all shy giggles one minute and then serious, no nonsense businesswoman the next to keep them on their toes.

A lot of the drivers ate it up, too, flocking to Toto Wolff’s pretty daughter when they’d see you doing the occasional post race interview or brazenly flirting with you at a drivers’ meeting. But the one man who you truly wanted, the 26 year old in the Redbull gear with 3 world champions and a multimillionaire contract to his name, with intense blue eyes and thick thighs and broad shoulders, with a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine one second then flutters in your heart the next when you’d hear him laugh - he was the man who didn’t look twice your way. Despite your attempts to flutter your eyelashes, wearing tight outfits and bend over just so in a certain angle, or pressing your generous tits up against his bulging biceps as your breathlessly whisper Congratulations on the win, Max he wouldn’t even show a flicker of reciprocal interest. You were the daughter of Toto, after all - a principal who he was quite well known in the media for having ongoing disputes with for numerous years. As if Max Verstappen was going to be seduced by the likes of a gold digging daughter who was probably just as two faced as her father.

You’d pouted for weeks, growing bitter with jealousy at seeing Max instead walk around with Kelly, a pretty, tall and slim model who’d apparently outplayed you. But to your delight, you stumbled upon the best consolation prize. With all your pining you hadn’t realized you’d snagged one of the hottest and most desirable drivers on the grid - McLaren’s Lando Norris. Well, snagged was one way to put it - after all, a playboy like him was hard to pin down, especially when he knew how much pull he had over women. But you’d thought about that to, even going so far as saving your virginity like the perfect daddy’s little girl you were. Lando ate it up, twistedly enjoying getting to corrupt the paddock’s pretty princess, the one everyone wanted to get a piece off. So unlike the other women he slept with, the ones kept secret and hidden from the media, you were his favourite toy - one that he paraded around whenever you’d be in the same city. Not quite a girlfriend, of course, he was far too much of a flirt to put such a label on you so soon - more of a friends with benefits, a high maintenance fling, a fuckbuddy, some might call it.

And once you had your manicured hands clinging onto his arms at the races you sure as hell did not plan on letting go. Toto was not overly happy at the news that his eldest daughter was involved with a driver, of course, but had accepted it as Lando was still a good choice compared to many of the other drivers he wanted you to stay well away from - like Mad Max. So you stayed loyal to Lando, not wanting any rumours about you flirting with multiple drivers to impact your dad’s important reputation. You’d only flutter your lashes at Lando, kissing his cheek diligently with your glossed lips, sending the naughty photos of you in expensive lingerie just for him - because the rewards you got as his paddock arm candy were just too good. Always making sure your face was well cut out from any pictures, of course - you would die if they got leaked and your father found out.

But being Lando’s fuckbuddy came with a whole line of luxuries you’d quickly grown accustomed too. Tickets to whatever show you wanted, the finest food at the most expensive restaurant, the papparazzi going crazy at whatever outfit you’d wear when clinging onto Lando’s arm, and of course one of the most coveted men in the world between your legs, teaching you how to come apart on his fingers. That’s right, his fingers, and very rarely his cock, because you needed to secure that diamond ring, after all. And you sure as hell weren’t going to give him wife privileges 24/7 when he hadn’t even made you his official girlfriend yet. So instead you tried to push him to the limits, testing his patience to give up and retire his playboy ways if he finally got to bury his desperate dick inside your heavenly tight pussy again, after having taken your virginity.

Truly, you had outdone yourself, you thought, as every passing race this season Lando got more and more tense as tensions for the World Championships grew, with McLaren finally being able to threaten the Verstappen Red Bull reign for the first time in years. And with each passing race, he couldn’t relieve the tension enough, trying to furiously fuck his way through all number of vogue models but somehow always finding himself back with you, desperately begging to be let in between your soft thighs. And like always, you’d blink innocently and coo that you felt too shy, wasn’t last time enough, you didn’t want to ruin yourself for the man you were going to marry, remember?

And Lando would groan, because as much as he wanted you, he also knew there was no way in hell he was ready to take you to the altar over this. Although it had been getting harder and harder to resist, lately, because although you were truly so talented with your small hands and sweet, drooling mouth, he would endlessly replay the heaven that your pussy had felt like the rare few times you’d let him enter you with his cock.

But as the season went on even you couldn’t calm Lando down, especially after the Zandervoot race. Tensions were at an all time high between him and his normally good friend Max, after Lando stole his home race under him and even sealed the deal by throwing the Dutchman’s simply lovely phrase back at him cockily. Max was well and truly pissed off at Lando then, not even turning upto their weekly Padel games or replying to his texts. Although Lando wanted to win the championship, he also wanted to remain good mates with Max - especially because he knew being on Mad Max’s bad side always ended with the opponent finding themselves crashing into a wall at the next race. So as he pondered just what he could do to get his friend’s forgiveness, a wicked idea came to him, one night when he was out at a Monaco nightclub with you and had run into Max partying with his friends. He’d tried to talk to Max, but had been rudely ignored, so instead Lando stood off the corner, rather crossly glaring at the Dutchman, when he noticed you’d disappeared from his side to tipsily wander to the bar and get another drink.

He was about to go help you when he saw you stumble, maybe take you to the bathroom for a quick sloppy blowjob - but was suprised to see Max appear at your side, his intense blue eyes watching your tinier frame carefully as he rested a large palm over your plump ass to secure you. And Lando watched as you giggled happily, twirling your hair as Max handed over his black Amex to pay for your drink, rewarded with a lingering lip glossed kiss on his cheek from you, before you scampered back over to where Lando was hidden in the shadows. And as you loyally returned to Lando’s arms, whispering that you were going to make him feel so good tonight, he seemed so tense, the Brit found himself ignoring your seductive words entirely to instead focus on how Max’s hungry gaze lingered on your ass as you had strutted away from the tall blonde man. A sinister grin appeared on Lando’s face as he pieced it all together. He’d always thought it was weird that Max chose to completely ignore you, given that he normally was a friendly guy off the track. Turns out his good mate was just trying to avoid getting involved with Toto’s paddock bunny of a daughter, huh?

Turning his attention to you, Lando whispered if you could pretty please try out something new for him tonight, because he was really stressed, okay? He watches you nod eagerly, foolishly thinking your plan to get Lando so desperate for you that he was ready to put a ring on your finger was working. Too bad you had no idea that instead, your fuckbuddy was thinking about how he’d just found the perfect present to gift to his angry rival.

So that’s how you found yourself in a plush hotel bed later that night, all dressed up in a pretty white lace and mesh set and still in your heels, your eyes blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. You eyes had gone wide with excitement, thighs clenching when Lando had pulled the ropes out, and you’d had to blush and act all innocent when secretly you couldn’t be happier that you were drawing out the dirtier desires in Lando. Because that meant he was falling for you all the more, right?

You had no idea about the private conversation your fuckbuddy had been having with the driver you’d previously desired, just outside the club in a dark alleyway, where Lando had finally cornered Max to apologise. The furious Dutchman had, as expected, been in no mood to hear it - but had stopped in his tracks and turned around when Lando slyly suggested that as he had taken something of his, it was only fair that Max get one of Lando’s precious things in return. Like maybe…you?

At the mention of your name, Max furrows his brows, telling Lando he wasn’t interested in the latest toy on the grid who spread her legs for whichever driver gave her some attention. Oh, Lando all but purred, that’s the catch, mate. She’s basically still a virgin, was one when I met her, only let me fuck her a couple of times, wants to save herself for the one or some shit. But I trained her how to use her holes, and fuck does she know how to suck a guy off with that sweet mouth of hers.

That’d caught Max’s attention, and he smirked to Lando, calling him a fucked up asshole for selling out the girl who was loyal to him like this, who was Toto Wolff’s daughter, no less - a powerful man someone like Lando wouldn’t want to make an enemy off. The Brit shrugged. Toto’s never going to find out. What’s mine is yours, mate. Enjoy. And with that, he tossed his room key to Max.

That night, Lando didn’t feel bad, not even one bit, as he tightly wound the rope around your delicate little wrists, knowing that you loved to act all innocent but secretly kinky shit like this has you dripping. Especially if you were going to be ruined tonight by a man who you secretly still had desires for - and Lando was certain you did, judging from the way he’d seen you look at Max like he was a God you wanted to worship on your knees. Really, he was being a good friend to you both by letting it happen - just this once of course, he wasn’t going to just hand you over to his track rival after putting in so much work to train you to be the perfect sex toy. So he’d left you there all alone in the room, abruptly saying he had an urgent call and would be back.

The drinks you’d had earlier certainly had their affects on you, making you whine against the tight ropes on your flushed and sensitive skin, almost grateful for the blindfold as you felt overstimulated already. When you finally heard the hotel door reopen, you sighed in relief as your fuckbuddy - soon to be boyfriend, you hoped! - finally came back. In your wildest fantasies you’d never have guessed that instead of Lando locking the door, Max stood in his place - and had taken one look at your tempting, restrained form and realized that the sly Brit had definitely not told you about his plans for tonight. Keeping you blind and tied up while you were tricked into thinking it was your beloved Brit entering you and not your daddy’s enemy, Max Verstappen? It was so dirty that Max got an instant hard on. He’d seen the looks, the touches you gave him too - they were rather hard to miss, after all. But he’d played aloof, not wanting to give into your gold digging ways - but he’d admit that he’s been rather disappointed when he found you’d settled for Lando instead. You’d surprised him with how loyal you remained to the McLaren driver, dutifully remaining by his side and avoiding Max’s intense gaze when it would occasionally flicker over to you. But when the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions tonight, Max had seen the desire in your blown pupils, in your hardened nipples that peaked just at the edge of your dress, and had cockily smirked at the realisation that Lando’s little toy, Toto’s precious daughter - that she was still lusting after him.

And now that this opportunity had presented itself….well, let’s just say that it had Max grinning wickedly as he plotted up all the ways he could walk away with both you and the world championship from Lando this year. That would certainly teach the younger male to mess with what was his, wouldn’t it? And even better, it would put that arrogant prick Toto in his place, keep him from daring to speak out against Max in the media when Redbull trashed Mercedes - because his adored little daughter would be spending the race weekends on her hands and knees for the Dutch world champion, if Max had anything to say about it.

So that’s how Max found himself at the foot of the bed, stripping off his clothes and lazily jerking himself off as he watched you squirm underneath your ropes, pouting as you couldn’t do your usual bit of trailing teasing hands all over Lando and rile him up. Baby? You crooned, tilting your head in the direction you thought he was in. Aren’t you going to-Oh!

You felt his warm, large palms cup your cheek, tracing your glossy, pink lips and you automatically poke your tongue out to circle his finger. Good girl, he sighed, the words making your tummy flutter. He sounded a little different to usual, his voice deeper, lower, but it was hard to think clearly over how much your head was pounding from raw desire, and you liked how he sounded tonight. You were feeling really horny and couldn’t wait for him to finally fuck you too - having had to desperately ride your tiny vibrator after stopping Lando fucking you multiple times this month.

His hands continued their path, trailing over your delicate throat and teasingly encircling it with his large hand, making you gasp - you hadn’t remembered it being quite so large that it wrapped around the whole width of your neck. But maybe your senses were more attuned now since you were blindfolded? It felt really good.

You promptly forgot to think about that any longer when those large hands moved downwards, roughly palming your bouncy tits and making you giggle from his attention. He teased and squeezed them, tugging down on the lace to free them in the open air, twisting on your hardened cute nipples. You squealed from the abuse to your overly sensitive areolas, distracted, and didn’t notice when your hands ended up being untied - only to be guided to a very large and hard cock.

Baby, you’d giggled, it’s been so long that you’re even bigger than I remembered. He swore under his breath as you diligently jerked him off with your two small hands barely wrapping around his length, spitting on it cutely to ease the glide. And then he’s rubbing his leaking cock all over your tits, slapping them with it and chuckling darkly as they jiggled, all wet from his precum. Before you know it, you were drooling and suckling all over his cock, sweetly moaning how good he tasted, even more than last time. Suckling his balls and then licking all the way the very tip, just like he’d taught you, placing messy lip gloss stained kisses down the wet shaft before sucking them clean off. You made sure to pay extra attention to the thick veins that ran underneath his length, even the new ones you hadn’t felt before, because he’d told you it drove men wild.

And when he grabbed your pretty curls, you let your mouth go lax so he could pump his full length furiously down your inviting throat, groaning how much of a good girl you were, maybe your full time job should be sucking his cock instead of trotting about the paddock. You moaned excitedly at the idea, and when he cums, all thick and creamy, you obediently swallow it all up.

Look, daddy, you say rather sluttily, dropping your mouth wide open, tongue out as you showed him how well you’d drank all his cum. Fuck, that’s so dirty, calling me and your father the same name, huh? Should’ve known you’d be into kinky shit like this.

You scrunch your brows cutely in confusion, not sure what he meant by that because you’d called him daddy many times before. But you don’t get to ponder too long because you suddenly hear the sound of a camera click and can see the flash go off through the blindfold. Your tummy lurches, because Nooo, baby, no photos, please, what if my dad sees-

Your pleas are ignored as you’re being lifted by two broad arms and tossed onto the bed, your hands dragged up and over your head as your wrists are tied to the headboard. You’re whining, asking him what he was doing, this was too much, you wanted to see him now, to touch him, but again you don’t get an answer.

Instead, you feel his thick fingers hooking around the sides of your soaked panties and sliding them off, lewd strings of your wetness clinging to the lace as it’s pulled away. Then you hear him deeply exhale a fucking hell, making you blush as strong hands grasp your ankles and push them far apart so your intimate parts are exposed for his hungry gaze.

That’s all the warning you get before there’s a foreign sensation of his warm breath blowing on your puffy folds, making you gasp, and before a broad tongue licks a stripe clean up your pink slit. You squeal in suprise, again stupidly babbling and asking what he was doing, because normally Lando didn’t like going down on you, finding it too much effort for a quick stress relieving fuck - he much preferred having you suck him off instead.

But the mouth currently lapping at your folds seems to have realized just how unfamiliar this pleasure seems to be for your sensitive cunny, because he buries his face right in, licking and slurping up all your dripping wetness. You thrash against your restrains, incoherently moaning because it feels so good baby, mmmh, why didn’t he do this more?

He laughs huskily, still buried inside your folds, and the deep vibrations make you almost cum right then and there. Your whole body is burning up with need now and you’re begging for him to put the condom on and slide in it, daddy, please, you needed it so bad-

You both moan as he finally sinks home, your creamy pussy gushing around him as it welcomes him in. You feel breathless at the size of him, because again he’s bigger and thicker than you remembered - not even just his cock, but his whole body, his bulging biceps and broad chest being able to hold you down with ease. You let him know it, too, whining that he’s so strong, it was really hot, had he been working out more?

That made him laugh again, lips grinning right by your ear, as he tilts your hips up to meet his and starts fucking your gushing pussy roughly. Through your euphoric daze, you feel familiar butterflies swirl in your stomach at the deep laugh, the accent sounding so different from Lando’s but still familiar to you for some reason - yet you still couldn’t quite place it. It was impossible to focus with the way he was thrusting into you, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress in a bruising grip, making your tits bounce with each pump, your breath come out in soft pants as you gasped for air. You’re about to cum, you can feel it, the intensity building up-

And then, finally, he takes off your blindfold. Your brown eyes take a second to adjust to the bright lights - and then you widen them in pure shock as you realize just who’s wide cock was splitting you open.

You scream as Max grins wickedly down at you, pulling back to leave just his leaking tip inside your tight cunny, before slamming back in and, setting a bed breaking pace and drowning out your panicked wails with the loud banging of the headboard against the walls. You’re doing so good for me, schatje he croons, his voice sickly sweet but his actions pure evil as he grabs your dirty panties and meanly shoves them past your plush lips. Grabbing your soft thighs, he tosses them over his shoulder as he bullies his cock into you even deeper from this angle, repeatedly hitting your poor cervix. Tears pool in your brown doe eyes as you look at where he enters you, horrified as you see he’s making you take his cock raw - something Lando and you never did despite how hot it sounded as a baby outside of marriage would be too much for both of your families. You cry and wail and scream, tears streaming down your face at the embarrasing and degrading treatment you’re experiencing. Really, it’s such wicked and sinful behaviour and you should hate Max so much for this, hate Lando for leaving you all tied up and alone and defenceless against his evil and twisted rival to take advantage of you like this, to bully your practically virgin cunny with each deep thrust from his massive cock.

So why are you rapidly reaching your orgasm even faster than before?

Max has apparently learnt the signs of your pliant body underneath him far too quickly, because he slides his thick cock out of your swollen cunny and instead rests it just on top of your folds. Almost lovingly wiping your tears away with a flick of his thumb, he demands that you beg for it, for his cock to split you in half, to cum inside you, for him, Max, to be the only man you ever let inside your sweet pussy from now on.

You frantically shake your head, your muffled no no nos an obvious contrast to what you secretly wanted, as you’re simultaneously bucking your hips up against his hard length, drenching it in new slick. He smirks, leaning down so your foreheads meet and sweetly kissing up your tears. Despite the depravity of the situation, you’re finding yourself blushing from the unexpected gesture. Schatje, he whispers darkly, sending shivers up your spine because you’d always gotten jealous hearing him call other women that, you’re making this so much harder on yourself. It’s going to be so fun to watch you fall apart for me.

With that, he agonisingly tortures you, dragging just his tip through your folds again and again, slapping your throbbing clit with his head, biting and sucking on your sensitive nipples that leaves you arching your back into his talented mouth. You’re struggling to make sense of what’s going on, of trying to keep coherent. All that hard work and patience to try and lure Lando in was gone the very second your pussy had welcomed Max into it, because you knew Lando would never take you back if he found out about this. Your desperate brain reasons that then, it shouldn’t matter, right? It was too late for you and Lando. And now, you had Max Verstappen using your pretty body however he wanted, making you fulfill all his twisted desires. If you showed him how good you could be for him, be the perfect little pet for all his frustrations to be let out at, maybe he’d keep you around…permanently?

Max didn’t miss the dazed look that had overtaken your wide doe eyes as your whines quietened down. Guess all his teasing had finally melted that scheming brain of yours. Yanking your panties out of your mouth, he asked you if you were ready to behave and ask him nicely.

You nod obediently, looking at him with heart eyes as you confess that his cock felt so good, so addictive, you don’t think you could ever go back to Lando after being stretched open so wide, and could he pretty please fuck you hard and good?

Max growls at your submissive words. You’re offering yourself up to me so sweetly, baby. How can I say no?

He unties your aching wrists, running his soothing palms over the rope marked skin, bending down to give you a passionate, open mouthed kiss. You greedily slurp at his intruding tongue, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure as he lines himself up at your entrance before easily sinking into the wet folds. This time, he doesn’t stop his wicked thrusts, not when you’re squirting on his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head, not when a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock from your cum, not when you’re tangling your hands in his hair and whining that it’s too much, you’re going to pass out.

He only stops once he’s tensing above you, one hand squeezing your neck and the other gripping the headboard as he drains his entire load into your tight cunny desperately clenching around him. Yours is truly the sweetest pussy he’s ever fucked. He’s never letting you go. He cums so much that it spurts out past your pussy lips, all over your soft thighs.

After a while, when he’s done whispering praises into your ears, your gooey brain soaking it all up, he slides out of you, admiring how his cum leaks out of your cunny that had treated him very well tonight. He places a gentle kiss to your temple and lets you doze off for a bit. It takes you a while longer to come to your senses, and when you sit up, you gulp down the glass of cold water that has been placed on the bedside table. You see Max spread out on an armchair across the room, shirtless and in some grey sweats, smirking at something on his phone - but he looks up when he hears you and lets his gaze drift down your marked up body. You flush under his intense ice blue eyes, heart fluttering at finally getting attention from the richest and fastest driver on the grid.

He beckons you over, calling you his pretty schatje, and in your blissed out state you obediently crawl over to him on your hands and knees, settling in between his spread legs and resting your head against his large thigh. And when he tells you that you looked so cute crawling for him, maybe next time he’ll get you a leash and collar with his name on it, hmm? you bite your lip and shyly nod, telling him of course, you’d do whatever daddy wanted.

He grins darkly, pleased with your submissive response, knowing you’re completely his. Forget Toto, forget Lando, the only man you’d ever be loyal to from now on was him. So you eagerly open your juicy lips wide at his command, drooling all over his cock to clean up the sticky mess your pussy walls had left behind. And when he points his phone at you, hitting record, you glassily stare straight at the camera, letting it capture how you hollowed your cheeks and licked up the creamy ring coating the base of Max’s cock. Gonna send this to your father if he keeps lying about how I’ve going to sign a Mercedes contract next year, Max teases meanly. Or to Lando if he tries to overtake me on the track again. You whine at him, brown doe eyes distressed, and start deepthroating him even faster to please him more, hoping if you did he wouldn’t show your daddy or ex fuckbuddy how much of a slut you were for the champion driver.

Being on your knees and obediently blowing Maxie was a position you became very familiar with. Because like he had wanted, every race weekend you would break your FIA contract clause of remaining unbiased and be dressed in a skimpy little outfit in Redbull colours, your lush tits pushed against Max’s thick biceps as you clung onto him through his paddock walk. Max couldn’t resist smirking at the Mercedes garage where Toto would glare, arms crossed, at the sight of his well accomplished daughter following the reckless Redbull champion around like a lost bunny. Placing a possessive large palm across your ass as he guided you into his private jet, giving it a good squeeze, Max made sure the paparazzi caught a good pic of that, too, for your father to see later when he opened Twitter.

And Lando, who knew how much Max despised sharing his toys, skulked from his seat when he saw you entering Max’s plane for the ride back to Monaco. He’d make sure to never make the mistake of flying in the Verstappen jet again, he thought as he moodily shoved his headphones over his ears to drown out the filthy sounds and desperate moans you let out as Max fucked you raw on the other side of the cabin divider. You’d never let Lando fuck you in such a public place or so often, no matter how often he’d begged you.

Fuck it, might as well make the most of it, the Brit thought once he stopped moping and realised his music wasn’t going to block out the obscene squelches as his rival continued to greedily bounce your creamy pussy on his thick cock. Shoving his hand down his pants, Lando slowly started jerking himself off, smirking when he sees one of Max’s air hostesses blush and bite her lip when he catches her looking. Apparently he hadn’t learnt his lesson of keeping his hands off what belonged to the Dutchman after all, because soon he’s thrusting into the hostess’s willing mouth with the same rapid pace that Max is fucking you with.

Your father had always said birds of a feather flocked together, after all.

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A/N: POST FIC CLARITY HIT HARD IN THIS ONE AHHHHHH 😳😳 hope this satisfies the dark max hoes (yall are so real for that)😼😼 as usual let me know what you think and send in more requests!

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luvsupa · 3 months ago

Text

001 | THE GARDEN

tags: trueform!sukuna x servant!fem reader, angst, smut(ish), pet names, lots of tension, teasing, mentions of death, mdni.

w.c: 3.9k (damn)

a/n: sorry for not posting in a whilee💔💔 I’ve been so sick and still am 🤧 😓 but this is req from this ask! (I will be making multiple parts to this i was writing a lil too much 😟)

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated!

part 2!

“sukuna-sama expects his dinner,” one of sukuna’s subordinates announces, pushing open the heavy wooden door to the kitchen. you and several other servants are already hard at work preparing the meal.

everyone tenses at the reminder, knowing that sukuna’s patience is thin. this is your first time preparing his dinner—usually, you’re assigned to gardening or cleaning. the sight before you is almost too much: bones, flesh, and organs stacked on the plate, creating a grotesque pile. the stench of death fills the air, making your stomach churn as you try not to gag.

as the meal is finished, you grab the edges of the heavy plate, bracing yourself for the weight of the revolting flesh.

“you’re not worthy to deliver the king’s food,” yorozu sneers, snatching the plate from your hands with a flick of her wrist. “you might upset him and end up as his next meal,” she adds, carrying the plate effortlessly while laughing as she exits. her mocking tone stings, and you can’t help but think of her with contempt as you and the other servants clean up.

bitch.

unable to bear the stench any longer, you leave the kitchen early. the other servants understand and let you go, knowing the smell has become too much for you. as you walk down the dimly lit hallway, you look up at the open ceiling, where stars shine faintly against the night sky. an eerie wind howls through the corridor, its sound both creepy and mesmerizing.

you glance towards the servant quarters but are drawn to the door leading to the garden. it feels like something is beckoning you, so you decide to take a detour. opening the door, you’re greeted by the moonlit garden—a stark contrast to the darkness inside. the flowers and fruit glow vibrantly under the moonlight, and the trees sway with the force of the wind.

walking deeper into the garden, you stop on the wooden bridge over the koi pond. you peer into the water, watching the koi fish below. as you look closer, your reflection shimmers in the rippling water. the fish suddenly dart away, disappearing in an instant. your confusion grows as you focus on your reflection and see four red orbs glowing ominously behind you.

frozen in place, fear grips you tightly. your heart pounds wildly, and you’re paralyzed by the chilling presence that seems to lurk just out of sight. your mind races, but you remain utterly silent and immobile, trapped by the eerie, haunting feeling that you are being watched.

you stand there frozen, the chill of fear gripping your body as your heart pounds furiously. you’re paralyzed by terror, unable to make a sound, not even a whisper.

“awh, i wish to get more of a reaction out of you,” the unknown voice murmurs darkly. slowly, you turn to see an extremely tall man with an array of unsettling features. the sight nearly makes you faint. the king.

“my lord,” you stammer, bowing deeply in respect. he chuckles at your rapid attempt to regain composure.

“it’s very easy to get into your head,” he observes, scanning your trembling form. “is there nothing up here?” he laughs, knocking your head playfully. you wince at his touch and rub your head, frowning at his mockery.

“there is,” you retort, turning your gaze away from him. you’re not trying to be disrespectful, but his subtle insult stings.

your heart still races as you focus on the rippling water beneath the bridge. sukuna towers over you, his presence as oppressive as the dark night sky. the garden around you is shrouded in shadows, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon and the shimmering koi fish gliding silently beneath the water’s surface. the air is eerily quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of insects.

“so, what brings you to my garden, little one?” sukuna’s voice slices through the silence, smooth but laced with a sharp edge. you turn to look at him; this time, he’s also peering down at the fish.

you hesitate, unsure of what to say. the truth is, you hadn’t meant to end up here—you were simply drawn in by some inexplicable force. but could you really admit that to him? that you felt something calling you?

“i… needed some fresh air, sukuna-sama,” you finally reply, your voice barely a whisper. it’s a weak excuse, but it’s all you can muster.

he chuckles darkly, the sound low and rumbling, as if he can see right through your flimsy explanation. “fresh air? after dealing with my dinner? you must have a stronger stomach than i thought,” he teases, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief. he steps closer, the wooden bridge creaking under his weight. “or maybe you’re just running away from something?”

you stiffen, his words cutting close to home. he’s right, of course. you’re running—from the stench of death, from the sight of flesh and bone, from the reality of serving someone like sukuna. but admitting that feels like exposing your most vulnerable self, and you’re not ready for that.

“no, my lord,” you say, shaking your head. “i just needed a moment to clear my thoughts.”

sukuna hums, clearly unimpressed by your response. he circles around you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. you can feel his gaze lingering on you, making you hyper-aware of every breath you take, every inch of space between you.

“clear your thoughts, huh?” he muses, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “what could a little servant like you possibly have to think about?” his tone is mocking, almost condescending, yet there’s a genuine curiosity in it.

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. what could you say that wouldn’t sound trivial to a man like him? you’re just a servant—your worries are insignificant compared to his vast existence. but something about his question—and the way he seems to revel in your discomfort—makes you want to push back, just a little.

“i think about a lot of things, my lord,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “like the stars, or the way the wind feels at night. or the flowers in the garden.” you pause, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “even… even what it must be like to be someone like you.”

the last part slips out before you can stop yourself, and you immediately regret it. your heart skips a beat as you brace for his reaction, fearing you’ve crossed some invisible line. but to your surprise, sukuna doesn’t lash out. instead, he halts, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“someone like me?” he echoes, his brow arching with a mix of curiosity and disdain. “and what do you imagine it’s like, little one? to be someone like me?”

you hesitate, unsure how to respond. you hadn’t really thought it through—your words had just spilled out in the heat of the moment. but now that he’s asking, you can’t back down.

“i imagine it’s lonely,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “to have so much power, but no one who truly understands you. no one who dares to stand by your side, except out of fear.”

the garden falls into silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. you can feel sukuna’s gaze boring into you, but you don’t dare meet it. your heart races, fearing you’ve gone too far.

then, sukuna does something unexpected—he laughs, a low, dark laugh that sends shivers down your spine. “lonely?” he repeats, as if the concept is foreign to him. “you think i’m lonely?”

he leans in closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. “let me tell you something, little servant,” he murmurs, his voice soft but laden with menace. “i don’t need anyone to stand by my side. i don’t need understanding or companionship. all i need is power, and the fear it brings. that’s what sustains me.”

his words are harsh, but there’s something in his tone—a hint of something deeper, something he’s not willing to admit. you feel a pang of sadness, realizing that beneath all that power, there’s a void he refuses to fill.

“you should be careful, doll,” he says, his voice low and warning. “curiosity can be dangerous. especially when it comes to me.”

with that, he straightens up, turning to leave. but before he can take a step, he pauses, glancing back at you with a smirk. “perhaps i’ll visit you again. after all, i find your little thoughts quite entertaining.”

your breath catches as you watch him disappear into the shadows, leaving you alone in the garden once more. the night is still, the stars shining brightly overhead, but the fear that had gripped you earlier has lessened, replaced by something else—something you can’t quite put into words.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *-

the next evening, you enter the shared servant quarters with a basket of clothes, overhearing yorozu and your other roommates gossiping about what happened in sukuna’s chambers. you pretend not to listen as you place the basket on the bed and start folding the clothes, trying to catch snippets of their conversation.

“he’s a maniac,” yorozu boasts loudly, “he even made love to me until sunrise—oh, how incredible it felt.”

you raise your brows at her blatant lie. after your encounter with sukuna, you had carefully snuck into the room to find yorozu and the others fast asleep.

what a liar.

the girls listening to yorozu gasp in awe, pleading for more details about her so-called night with the king. their excitement fades, however, as the door swings open, and uraume enters. the ladies quickly notice their presence and bow in respect.

“sukuna-sama has requested you to give him his bath,” uraume announces, looking directly at you. you glance around, wondering if uraume might have mistaken you for another servant.

“me?” you ask, pointing at yourself in confusion. the other servants exchange glances of barely concealed disgust. uraume nods, and they take their leave, closing the door behind them and leaving you in an awkward silence.

you smile to yourself as you hear yorozu’s incredulous question about why you’re the one chosen to assist with sukuna’s bath. you’re not a high-ranking servant, let alone someone who should be in his presence for more than a minute, much less during a bath.

discarding the basket of clothes, you rush out of the room, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation bubbling inside you about what might unfold between you and sukuna.

the walk to sukuna’s chambers nearly left you breathless, so secluded is his room from the rest of his vast estate. the wooden double doors, adorned with menacing skulls, creak open as uraume gestures for you to enter. they guide you past the threshold and direct you towards the private pool area, marked as the exit.

as you step into his room, you’re struck by its enormity. it’s so grand that it seems like a small residence in itself, complete with its own living area, kitchen, and even a staircase leading to what you assume must be his private quarters. the room boasts a massive balcony overlooking the villages below, offering a breathtaking view. to one side, a door leads to his expansive garden.

fear courses through you as you sense his overwhelming presence grow stronger. your gaze is drawn irresistibly to the garden door, and something compels you forward. you push the door open and step into the garden, which is bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.

there, in the center of the garden, is a large, dark pool. steam rises from the bubbling water, adding an ethereal quality to the scene.

and there he is.

sukuna sits in the pool, his eyes closed. his two arms rest casually on the edge, while the other two are submerged beneath the surface. his chest, covered in ancient tattoos, glistens with water droplets under the moonlight. the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with each breath is the only movement in the otherwise still night.

“there you are, my little one.”

you stood there, swallowing hard as he opened his eyes to meet yours. his hand motioned for you to come closer, and you obeyed, lowering yourself to your knees beside him.

“something disturbing you?” he asked, feigning concern as he searched your eyes for a reason. “nothing, my lord. I’m just surprised you requested me instead of yorozu.”

a smirk played on his lips as his fingers lightly brushed the fabric of your kimono. “join me,” he said, his tone laced with a provocative edge. your eyes widened at the request, and you stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent response. all you could hear were the faint pops of bubbles in the pool.

“unless you’d prefer I call for yorozu,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice that sparked a pang of jealousy in you.

with a deep breath, you carefully stood up, untying your kimono and letting it pool around your feet as sukuna’s gaze remained fixed on your bare figure. he bit his lip, watching as you hesitantly stepped into the steaming water. the heat was intense, but you pushed through, your entire body soon engulfed by the water. sukuna’s arms, hidden beneath the surface, wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer until you were resting on his lap. you flinched at the unexpected contact.

you could feel his cocks.

he chuckled at your reaction, his laughter carrying a hint of cruel amusement. “does her name strike a nerve?” he taunted as you glanced around, avoiding his gaze while taking in the garden’s beauty. without warning, he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I don’t like being ignored, woman.”

“it doesn’t seem fair that you have sexual relations with her and then summon me. you’re only going to make the other servants despise me,” you confessed, your voice trembling. his expression was unreadable, leaving you unsure whether he was angry or merely contemplating your words.

your pulse quickens as sukuna’s intense gaze pins you in place, his four crimson eyes gleaming with dark amusement. his massive form looms over you, every inch of his heavily tattooed body radiating power and menace. the steam swirling around you thickens the air, and the bubbling water at your waist feels like it’s vibrating with the tension between you.

“jealousy doesn’t suit you,” sukuna murmurs, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. his tone is laced with condescension, as if daring you to challenge him. one of his hands tightens its grip on your waist, while another trails a sharp claw along the side of your neck, dangerously close to your pulse.

you swallow hard, trying to maintain composure, but your voice betrays you with a slight tremor. “i’m not jealous,” you lie, even as your heart races. “i just don’t understand why you would entertain her lies.”

sukuna’s lips curl into a cruel smirk, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “entertain her lies?” he echoes mockingly, leaning in so close that his breath fans across your face. “you think i care about what that pathetic woman says? the only reason i acknowledge her existence is to see you squirm.”

he moves one of his lower arms to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes bore into yours, and the sheer intensity of his gaze makes your knees feel weak. “you’re nothing but a fool to her,” he continues, his voice dripping with venom. “a pawn in her petty games. but you… you’re mine.”

your breath hitches as his words send a jolt of heat through your body, leaving you torn between the urge to slap him and an even stronger, confusing desire. the steam rises thicker around you, wrapping you both in a cocoon of suffocating heat, and the bubbling water feels like it’s boiling against your skin.

“i’m not a toy,” you manage to say, though the words sound weak even to your own ears. sukuna’s laugh is low and menacing, and you feel his upper arms encircle you, pulling you closer to his enormous chest, his wet skin slick and warm against yours.

“oh, but you are,” he purrs, his voice both mocking and seductive. “my toy. my plaything. and i’ll do with you whatever i please.”

the heat of the water and the intensity of his gaze create a pressure that feels almost unbearable. his four crimson eyes lock onto yours with a predatory gleam, while his massive, tattooed form looms over you. the steam from the bubbling pool rises in thick clouds, obscuring everything but the two of you, wrapping you in a suffocating cocoon of heat and desire.

sukuna’s hands continue their torturous exploration. his lower arms grip your waist, holding you flush against him. his touch is deliberate, almost maddeningly slow, as his fingers trail lightly along your sensitive slit, spreading your folds making you whimper at his touch. every brush of his fingertips makes you shiver, your body reacting instinctively to the teasing pressure.

“you feel that?” sukuna growls, his voice rough with dark pleasure. his fingertips linger at your entrance, grazing the sensitive area with tantalizing slowness. “every inch of you is responding to me. don’t try to deny it.”

the water around you bubbles more furiously, the heat intensifying as sukuna’s touch grows bolder. your breath hitches with every pass of his fingers, your hips slowly grinding on his fingers for something more. the tension between you thickening until it feels like it’s pressing down on you from all sides. the steam is stifling, making it hard to think, and the heat of the water feels almost like a physical presence, amplifying the pressure of sukuna’s touch.

you try to maintain your composure, but your voice betrays you, trembling with barely contained desire. “i’m not yours,” you manage to say, though the words sound weak against the backdrop of his dark amusement.

sukuna’s lips curl into a cruel smile, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. “oh, but you are,” he murmurs, his voice both mocking and seductive. “and deep down, you know it. you can’t hide from what you want.”

his lower arms grip your hips firmly, pulling you snugly against him. you gasp as his fingertips graze your clit with a teasing touch, sending a shiver of electric pleasure through your body.

“my precious brat,” sukuna growls, his fingers continuing their teasing caress, barely making contact but just enough to drive you wild with anticipation. the sensation is maddening, the heat of his touch against your sensitive skin making it hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need building within you.

you try to maintain control, but your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps. “’m not yours,” you repeat, shutting your eyes, hoping he would do something.

sukuna’s eyes glint with cruel satisfaction as he increases the pressure slightly, his fingers brushing over your clit with a teasing rhythm. the dizziness increases as the pressure of his touch and the intensity of his gaze combine.

sukuna smirks as he brings his hand from the water to pinch your neglected breasts, pulling and teasing your nipples until you gasp loudly. simultaneously, his fingers rub circles on your poor clit with a harsh rhythm, each touch sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body. the sensations blend together, leaving you dizzy and disoriented, as if you’re drunk off his touch.

the steam seems to wrap around you tighter, making it hard to think clearly. sukuna’s touch is relentless, the teasing strokes sending waves of heat through your body. your mind is spinning, caught between the heat of the water, the pressure of his touch, and the oppressive weight of his presence.

his fingers trace along the edges of your entrance with agonizing slowness, the touch making your body quiver with anticipation your breasts aching at the teasing. sukuna’s hands grip you tighter, pulling you closer, and the sensation of his body against yours only adds to the unbearable pressure.

“say it,” he commands, his voice rough and demanding. “tell me you’re mine.”

the words catch in your throat, the intensity of the moment making it almost impossible to speak. the steam, the heat, the pressure of sukuna’s touch—all of it overwhelms you. the tips of his fingers push into your hole, your body instinctively wanting more. the tension breaks, and the words slip from your lips, barely audible over the sound of the bubbling water.

“f-fuck yours- ‘m yours ,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission. he widely smirks as you gave in, knowing that you’re his. the heat of the water, the intensity of sukuna’s touch, and the oppressive presence of his gaze converge, leaving you breathless and dizzy, completely trapped in his embrace.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

the next morning, you and the other servants were summoned to the kitchen by the higher-ups. as you prepared, memories of your night with sukuna kept making you smile, his words-you’re mine- echoing in your mind. sukuna wanted you, and only you.

in the large, cobblestoned kitchen, you and the servants gathered around the wooden island table where uraume had called everyone. chatter and gossip filled the room as you stood with your friends, one of them clutching your arm nervously as everyone waited for uraume’s arrival.

the wooden doors creaked open as uraume and several guards filed in, immediately commanding attention. “good morning, everyone,” uraume said, silencing the room.

“sukuna-sama has been keeping an eye on a few of you while you worked,” uraume continued, causing a collective gulp of fear to ripple through the room. whispers of suspicion and dread filled the air, as many feared sukuna’s scrutiny meant trouble.

“and he is beyond pleased with one of your skills,” uraume added, and the room erupted in gasps and murmurs of relief. you heard whispers behind you—could it be me? it has to be me.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at their eagerness. most of the servants slacked off when uraume or sukuna’s subordinates weren’t around, but you always made sure to be diligent. you weren’t trying to be a suck-up; you were just keenly aware of the consequences of falling out of favor. after all, many had met grim fates.

was this about me? had the king of curses been watching? you think.

uraume walked closer to your side of the room, maintaining their usual emotionless demeanor. a few of the other servants' smiles faltered as uraume pushed through the crowd, making a beeline for you. their eyes were filled with a mix of envy and disbelief, and you straightened your posture with a slight bow, a wide, hopeful smile spreading across your face.

“i’m very thankful for this—”

“move.”

you choked on your saliva, your face flushing with embarrassment as you froze, head down. the realization that you were not the one being recognized hit hard as uraume moved past you to the girl in the back. murmurs and chuckles spread through the room, and you could feel your cheeks burning with shame.

i just want to disappear.

uraume pulled one of the servants deemed ‘skilled’ to the front of the room. you slowly raised your head to see yorozu, standing there with a beaming smile, clearly thrilled.

“sukuna-sama is beyond satisfied with your skills and dedication,” uraume announced. “he has requested a personal dinner with yorozu.”

what?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna angst #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk angst #ryoumen sukuna smut #true form sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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leilanihours · 4 months ago

Text

# I JUST WANNA FUCK YOU 'TILL YOU CRY, VINTAGE DIOR

pairing: nika muhl x model!reader

word count: 897

warnings: smut (MDNI), head + strap (reader receiving)

summary: after a dior photoshoot and a certain blonde getting too close to you, nika needs to show you that she's the only one who deserves touch you.

⭑ from lani: inspired by sucia by kehlani bc that song is sexy and gay asf ! and by me and queen luce being obsessed w it 🎀 also my first time writing strap smut i hope it suffices 😜

masterlist !

YOU HONESTLY DIDN'T know how you ended up here - dior minidress bunched up around your torso, underwear pushed aside, legs spread against your marble countertop, your croatian goddess of a girlfriend drinking you up like she had been thirsty for years - but, hey, you weren't complaining.

"you taste so good, baby, fuck," nika groans against your wet slit. her nails scratch against your bare thighs, leaving red marks wherever they trailed.

"nika," you moan, throwing your head back, "just like that, please."

"you like that? huh?" she breathes out, the vibrations of her words sending you closer to the edge.

"love it, need it so bad," you whine with your eyes shut.

her eyes are trained on your figure - the way your pearl necklace sat on your defined collarbones, the way your hair flowed over your bare shoulders and tits, the way your skin was glowing with a light layer of sweat.

if you asked nika, she probably would've paid all her money to get this exact moment sculpted into a statue and displayed in a museum.

as her thumb presses against your sensitive clit and her tongue continue to fuck into your hole, you sense yourself reaching your climax.

your pussy tightens as your thighs start to shake against the brunette's face, causing her to smirk and halt all her movements as she steps back from you.

"what the fuck?" you complain.

"you think i'm gonna give it to you that easily? after you let that bitch's hands run all over you today?" she says lowly, a dark hunger present in her tone.

"what are you talking about, nik?" you sigh.

"don't give me that bullshit. the bottle blonde that kept adjusting your bikini at the shoot today," she explains, and then it clicks. she's jealous. possessive? probably both.

"oh."

"yeah," she chuckles darkly, "'oh.'"

after a beat of silence, you decide to test your girlfriend's patience even further, "so what are you gonna do about it?"

"excuse me?" she says incredulously, staring intensely at your still half-naked figure sitting on the counter.

"you heard me," you shrug.

"you wanna know what i'm gonna do about it?" she asks with a whisper in your ear. she slowly walks up to you, lightly grinding her hips against your cunt, "i'm gonna fuck you until you cry, until you get rid of this attitude."

her words send a chill down your spine and arousal to drip out of your already soaked pussy. you let out a moan at her promise, biting your lip to contain yourself.

"none of that," she protests, referring to your attempt at silence, "when i get back, i want you completely naked. got it?"

all you can do is nod as you watch her disappear into your bedroom. you hop down onto your hardwood floor, beginning to strip out of your clothes entirely.

soon enough, the brunette emerges from your bedroom naked, the oh-so familiar strap hanging from her hips. you were fucked. literally and figuratively.

"c'mere," she beckons, nodding for you to come closer to her. you oblige, of course, waiting for her to take control, "turn around."

following her directions, you move to face away from your girlfriend, now staring out the wall-to-ceiling windows of your apartment. you catch sight of the people innocently walking down the streets of paris, relishing in the beauty of the sunset.

but that moment of peace is cut short when you are roughly bent over your kitchen counter with the feeling of nika's strap entering you.

"fuck, nika!" you exclaim in shock.

she wastes no time, immediately slamming into your cunt relentlessly, her hands gripping your hips tightly as your ass slaps against her front.

"shut up and take it," she growls allowing one hand to drift down to your clit, rubbing tight circles.

"nika i can't-"

"yes you can, baby, yes you can," she assures, her powerful thrusts already bringing you immensely closer to your climax.

you begin to chase the upcoming high, pushing yourself back against the plastic of her dick.

"there you go," she moans, praising your neediness, "keep fucking against me just like that."

it's only then that you realize she's getting pleasure from this too - the vibrations from the base of the strap making you even more eager to make your girlfriend come with you.

nika's hands leave your hips to play with her own tits, nipples perked up from the pleasure coursing through her own body. she watches as you continue to fuck yourself on her strap, the view of your ass rippling against her bringing her closer and closer.

"you gonna come, y/n? huh?" she pants, running a hand up your back to rest on your shoulder, pulling you harder against her.

"gonna come all over your dick, nik," you whine, tears blurring your vision at the pressure building between your legs as well as the roughness of your girlfriend's motions.

"give it to me, baby," she moans, equally ready to come.

a string of incessant curses fills the air from both of you as you release at the same time. you had never had such a powerful orgasm, but something about nika's jealousy powering her desire for you just hit different - literally.

standing up to face the brunette, you rest against the countertop, still trying to catch you breath, "well, you got your wish."

"hm?" she asks after she's removed the strap from her waist, her hands resting on either side of you against the table.

"you said you wanted to fuck me until i cried, right?"

"i did, didn't i?"

— leilani signing off ! 📁

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thatdeadaquarius · 9 months ago

Note

College be kicking my ass but we continue on like Scaramouche (alive and kicking, but still crabby about it all lmfao)

Random idea but what happens when the acolytes got hold of Creator that is able to squeeze into small places (like a cat would but less liquid) and knows how to escape? Think of sagau but instead of all the deaths, its just they got overexited and chased the Creator the moment they see them which scared them shitless seeing a mob just appear out of nowhere.

I mean who wouldn't after seeing your favourite person in your favourite game just appear right in front of you? (I apologize in advance to the poor unfortunate sucker)

Imagine a world-wide search that keeps getting them heart attacks. Venti just flying by with Dvalin ony to see you on top of the floating pillar above Dragonspine LEANING PRECARIOUSLY OH MY ARCHONS GET AWAY FROM THE EDGE---

Zhongli walking around trying to find peace and quiet only to sense your presence which led him towards Azhdaha's domain and nearly shouted in terror seeing you hanging by one of the limestones above the slumbering dragon your grace what and how the in the fucking name of teyvat did you---

Yae Miko screaming in surprise seeing you inside one of the cupboards of your grace's house (you made a small temporary one in each country in case u need more rest) that she and Ei found in one of the remote islands.

Nahida and the entire Forest Rangers having one of the most intense, frustrating and most challenging game of hide and seek in the entire freaking forest.

You hiding underneath the sand like a fricking snake everytime Cyno spots you from a disrance.

-Vine Boom 🧨

I am no longer apologizing for lateness simply bc atp its basically assumed Im terribly sorry 💀 /so gen

Content under -----------------✄

☆

Sun: Reader, (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Imposter SAGAU? Imposter SAGAU Reversed Ver? unclear (NOT DARK)

Stars: little here, little there

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: reader/you thinks everyone is hunting them down, dark sagau fake-baiting lmao, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

No but the traumatic experience of you cautiously wandering into Mondstadt after realizing ur in Genshin like, ✨👄✨

and every single street/alleyway you try to go down to even avoid it is just people all looking at you like: 👁️👄👁️ ???

and ur over here equally just like: 😃 tf u lookin at????

u get up near the cathedral and finally see a playable character, Barbara, and she just fully GASPS and POINTS at you like she’s getting paid to be an actor for this

shouting sm nonsense like: “My Creator??? King of All???? IS THAT YOU?????”

and after which a few nuns check the commotion, Rosaria and Barbara’s Visions are glowing, and all join in heckling you

Venti coming (literally) flying around a corner on a breeze, saying he was trying to catch up to you, and ohhh now ur Convinced:

None of these bitches must be happy to see you, you did forcefully control their bodies if by the sounds of it they knew you/they must’ve been aware during the game, aw damn looks like u gotta run for your life now

You just book it out of Mond, Venti/Barbara yelling after you to come back, and meanwhile you’re leaving a shell-shocked Jean/Diluc/Kaeya (with Visions glowing) in ur wake on the way out

Not one being, mortal or otherwise, convinces you to stay in Mond, and you finally get to Dragonspine- the only place u know they wont follow

(well maybe the pyro characters but ur betting if u can make it up the mountain theyre not committed to,, running you down? arresting you?? ur not sure)

u make it all the way up and luckily everythings all solved like u did in the game, the traveler must be well into teyvat by now, and u decide to say “for the already achieved achievement” and fuck around and find out near the nail

U thought as u finally got on it u heard a scream somewhere in the sky, and u spotted Dvalin carrying Venti/Barbatos, and once again book it out of town (damn u cant believe theyre so committed they got the dragon in on it…)

so u haul ass all the way down the mountain, traveling only at night, living like a vampire, holing up during the day when u see Mond citizens/knights/gods/etc. walking around presumably looking for you

but u make it, finally! sweet, sweet Liyue, ur 2nd home (besides Mondstadt)

Only to immediately, like right outside the fucking gates to Liyue Harbor, run into Zhongli.

and he’s standing there like this mf knew u were coming, and the first thing out his mouth is some BS like, “…Darnell, that you??”/ref LMAOO

but instead of laughing abt it u just scream and run for your life haha

oh jesus h christ- he’s sending the adepti after you fuck- how hated are you??

sure u maybe hate Celestia a little, and sympathize with the traveler, but this seems a little extreme?!

you go to the one place u know he/any other adeptus doesnt like to come often, Azdaha’s cave

and after a night (well, day bc ur sleeping during the day now) of Azdaha sleeping peacefully, he wakes up fully coherent and u actaully have a rlly pleasant conversation with him about Liyue food lol

he also kept mentioning some kind of god? but like in reference to you?? are u connected to them, u kinda know a lot of gods atp so ur not sure which he means, a god to rule them all??? Celestia?? yeah u guess u know those fucks-

Cue u looking down from ur perch in the stalagmites above, u found a ledge and Azdaha helped you,

only to see a very concerned and borderline nervous Zhongli down below, Azhdaha just greets him like nothing’s wrong, but as soon as he sees you’re uncomfortable, helps you escape (more like teleport) away

(the old geo archon was probably nervous just be around Azhdaha u assume)

and now ur on the islands of Inazuma

u know exactly what islands are all but abandoned, the ghost one, the electrocuting one, and the scary bird one, all great options 👍

Raiden and Yae Miko manage to find you on every single one, with Yae getting more and more exasperated, and Ei getting more and more concerened with every position they find you in

hanging out on the banks of the electro river that would kill you if it weren’t for the little electro trees fending it off (thank fuck u maxed that shit out while in game)

bc u assumed they’d hate to be around it, plus lots of ronin- nope Ei is almost… scolding you?? oh but she’s got her Musou no Hitotachi out fuCK-

(she was slaying ronins that were getting too close to you)

she also is constantly jumpscaring you on tsurumi island/ghost island bc while the ghosts are gone, the creepy atmosphere isn't, and it makes her all the more terrifying as The Raiden Shogun comes walking out of the fog into the cave you've hidden in, stuff of ur nightmares for weeks as u just bird box style try to be silent and stealth around the island to get to an abandoned boat,

literally her scary ass purple sword glowing silhouette wandering around in the fog as you paddle away 💀

getting to thunder bird island and Yae Miko is literally both running/teleporting as quickly as she can to you, as you jump from floating rock to floating rock to escape her, god its so unnerving to watch someone so lazy running after you

she keeps getting in this weird “praising the heavens pose” sometimes when you jump, oh shit she’s aiming hER ATTACKS AT YOU THATS WHY-

oh good- she missed and deflected some stray debris coming ur way, u gotta get to the bird area and see if you can glide away (u managed to get a glider at some point thank fuck)

the bird is luckily on ur side against all these mfs trying to hunt u down (for controlling their bodies u guess) and flies u back to mainland teyvat

sumeru u thought would have the most mercy on u tbh, maybe fontaine bc Neuvillette only rlly cares if u break “fontaine” laws, maybe he wouldn't care to chase down a mortal like u over this

and nahida bc shes just nice

which is somewhat true, as you are acting like tarzan swinging around on vines and shit to escape the forest rangers

but she does show up in ur dreams, but shes just all foggy or distorted, u guess bc ur not of this world or smth??

and so it just unnerves u more, and u try to make it out to the desert, where at least there's no gods to worry about

mf ur hunkered down in a pyramid and see the shadowy shape of Cyno walking thru a sandstorm at you 💀

U dont kno how u got out of that one tbh, smth abt “king deshret made a plan for this” and left it behind for ppl to use to escape underground, sweet

And while Nahida and other eremites, scholars like Alhaitham/Kaveh/Dehya were looking around the desert sands, u slip by them

And u make it to the oasis at the edge of the desert, and steal an old rowboat to cross to fontaine (if i had a nickel everytime u needed to escape a god via old rowboat, youd have 2 nickels- )

and getting to Fontaine is not much better.

U literally get to the clockwork tower, foggy, ominous, uninhabited except for treasure-seekers occasionally, its perfect

until Neuvillette himself just strolls in abt 3 nights of u making camp there

u nearly shit urself as he just fake-knocked on a wall, meanwhile ur like hanging from the ceiling (four limbs out suspending you type of fictional shit)

luckily, mostly bc u were trying to wait him out (which wasn't possible ur limbs hurt so bad) he was, finally, the first person around u long enough to be genuinely kind and patient and answer questions

(Neuvillette acc couldn't figure out where u were at first, and was very confused how u got ur voice to boom around this chamber of the tower, after a minute of talking u trusted him enough to tell him to look up lol)

just in time too, he was able to hide u from the archons a little longer bc u were nervous

(u were already intimidated enough by Neuvillette being irl himself, talking to you, let alone all the other gods/vision users, as u realized afterwards thinking abt all the ppl trying to “hunt u down”, that if they all counted as ppl actually wanting to see you, that was a rlly overwhelming amount, esp if their first instinct is to run at you??? what are you, a fan-abused/disrespected kpop idol????)

☆

trying to be fancy and schedule posts once i get enough free time to actually wrangle my adhd to actually partake in my favorite hobbies 💀

well as long as I'm not getting slammed with lots of shifts again

hope u guys had a great weekend and have a good week! Happy late Valentine’s Day :)

Safe Travels Vine Boom,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the Beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

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satorusugurugurl · 7 months ago

Text

Buzzed

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t drink. He’s a lightweight, never saw the appeal, and, well, it makes him horny.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Whiny super whiny Gojo, handjob, public play, Gojo is just buzzed, not drunk consent is key, there are several reasons he doesn't like alcohol

Word Count: 2,307

A/N: this popped into my head at work. The need for Gojo to whimper and whine is intense.

Gojo didn't drink. He had nothing against people who liked to drink; by all means, to each their own. He never liked the taste; he was a lightweight, and he'd rather spend his money on sweets. There, however, was another reason he didn't drink. One that was far too embarrassing to mention.

Whenever Satoru would drink, he'd get horny, like super horny.

So, it was safer for him to avoid alcohol altogether, which was pretty easy. That was until you both went to one of your co-workers' birthday party. You casually conversed with some friends while Gojo headed into the kitchen. He was in search of cake, but he found punch instead. He filled his glass, tentatively giving it a sip.

It didn't taste like there was alcohol in it, so he drank a full red solo cup. And he was working on his third in the living room when he felt like his blood was on fire. The room was hot, sweltering, and you, god, you looked even hotter. The tight-fitted shirt you wore emphasized the curves of your perfect body and breasts. Your ass looked amazing in your jeans, and your smile was to die for. God, why did you look like a goddess tonight?

There was a certain glow about you that drew him in like a moth to a light. He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder, his body pressed firmly against your backside. Not only did you look good, but you smelt fucking delectable.

You turned your head, kissing his cheek before turning back to your friends, joining in with their conversation, leaning back into Satoru when you both felt it. The huge and very hard bulge in his pants had you choking on your words as Satoru straightened, glancing at you in sheer panic.

“Toru?” He grimaced at the tone of your voice. “Please tell me that's your phone.”

“It’s not,” he confirmed your fear.

“Can you get outside to the balcony?” A glance over his shoulder confirmed no one was remotely close to his sanctuary.

“Yeah.” His voice was so gravely as his cock twitched in his pants.

“Good, go on. I'll be out in a sec.”

The second Gojo stepped into the cool night air, he groaned, looking down at his pants. What the fuck? Why was he sporting the world's biggest boner of all time? Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He slowly sank into the dark corner, resting his back against the window where the curtain was still drawn, waiting for you to join him.

A second later, the sliding glass door opened and shut. Gojo’s hands flew towards his crotch, shielding his erection from any prying eyes. When he saw you turn the corner, he released the breath he'd been holding, dropping his hands to his sides. Satoru shut his eyes tight, biting back a pained whine. All you could do was knit your eyebrows together as you watched.

“Satoru? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Nngh, fuck, I don't know.” His cock throbbed hard at the sound of your voice. “I'm so goddamn hard.”

“Aren't you always hard?” The teasing tone in your voice attempted to lighten the mood.

“Yes, but your point is irrelevant. Fuck, I don’t know what happened. I only get surprise boners like this when I drink!”

Satoru was panting as you tilted your head slightly to the side. “But you did. Mina’s punch has a fuck-ton of alcohol in it.” Your boyfriend's face was contorted in pained pleasure and confusion. “People can’t taste the alcohol because of the liter of Lemon-Lime soda and the whole ass pint of sherbet.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Glancing back down at his erection, he sighed in frustration. “I-It’s going to be awhile for this bitch to go down. I’ll stay out here; you go inside and enjoy the party.”

Right now, in this embarrassing moment, Satoru could barely look at you. During the entirety of your relations, Gojo never drank, leaving that up to you if you were in the mood. You understood he particularly wasn’t too keen on drinking; it was his personal preference. Seeing him now, sulking in a corner, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing. It made a little more sense.

Laughter and loud music blared inside the apartment, drawing your attention to the door. Mina’s special punch was getting to everyone, it seemed like. They were so immersed in their current conversations and food would they even notice your absence?

Satoru was in physical pain. His teeth were clenched as he hissed out in frustration. You took notice of his hands, how they twitched, drawing closer to his crotch before pulling away. The man was fighting against every instinct in his buzzed horny brain. You could tell by his expression that he wanted to do nothing more than stroke his fat cock until he came all over his fist. Satoru, however, was also one not to let his lust overtake him.

He wasn’t some horny freak that would pull his dick out and stroke it until he jizzed all over your friend's balcony railing. You, however, weren’t as collected as he was. Seeing your boyfriend's cock twitching in his pants, the tiny wet spot forming over his leaking tip, made you fucking feral.

“I don’t want to go back.” Closing the distance between you, Gojo watched with bated breath as your pretty hands unbuttoned his pants.

“Tsk!” Your boyfriend hissed, crystal blue eyes darting towards the door. “Y-Y/N, what if someone comes out?!”

“I guess you’ll need to stay quiet. That way, if someone does come.” You whispered, your fingers slowly tugging his zipped down. “Can you do that for me?”

Satoru didn’t have time to think of a response because his dick did all the talking for him. It throbbed hard in the confines of his boxers. He whined and watched more pre-cum seep through the fabric of his boxers.

You cooed, running the bed of your thumb over the growing wet spot. “I’ll take that as a yes?” A nod and a tiny whimper was all you needed.

Slowly, you slid your hand down the band of his boxers, immediately coming into contact with his hot cock. His velvety shaft twitched as you tugged his boxers down just enough to free his erection. The tip was a furiously red shade; his slit dribbled pre-cum. Seeing his fat cock this hard has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Ahh, fuck, fuuuck,” Satoru whispered through a hiss as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. You slowly stroked your hands up and down. Squeezing it, trying to mimic how your pussy would pulsate around him when he would fuck you. “Y-Y/N~”

Using his pre-cum as lube, you smeared it up and down his length. Watching the pretty tip twitch madly each time you collected your makeshift lubricant. Satoru groaned, eyes half-lidded, watching you, the way you shifted, pressing your thighs together, how you took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it, as you jerked him off.

“I-I’m, haaa, I’m the one g-getting jerked off here. B-But you, holy fuck!” He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling a moan. Your teasing jerks, changed, your wrist twisting with every move. “Nnngh, f-fuck but y-yo—ooooh shit, you're the one e-enjoying yourself.”

“Of course, I’m enjoying myself. Satoru, I love feeling your dick get hard in my hand. It's so fat, hot, god, it makes me wet.”

Satoru flushed, head tilting back, the veins in his neck straining as he clenched his jaw. He was the one that would normally talk to you like this. Having it turned the other way around, he had his head spinning. The dizziness was so intense your boyfriend tilted his head back before he began thrusting into your tight-fitted fist.

“Fuuck, Haa, ooh fuck sweetheart, feels so good.” you bit back a moan of your own, watching as he ducked your hands, stinks of pre-cum running over your fingers, as he slammed the palm of his Hans against the railing. “D-Dont stop baby~ fuck Y-Y/N don't fuckin’ stop.”

Watching him desperately fuck your hand was so fucking pretty. From the thin sheen of sweat on his beautiful face to the throbbing shaft in your hand, everything about Gojo had panties soaked. Right now, you wanted to drag him out of the cramped apartment and back to your place where you would fuck his brains out.

But getting him through the apartment right now was out of the question.to get what you wanted, you had to get him off first! The faster he came, the faster you'd get to have him inside of you.

“You're doing such a good job, Toru~” Your hand moved faster. “I love feeling your cock sliding into my hand. But I love it so much more when you’re sliding into me, stretching me with your cock.”

Satoru was a hundred present, certain you were responsible for his hot blood and the hazy gaze that lingered over his eyes. You were the source of his buzz, and it had him jerking like a virgin into your first. You tried matching his thrusts with your hand. The whines that left his mouth were all the confirmation you needed to know that it felt good.

“F-Feels so good.” Satoru cried out, head dipping down to watch you jerk him off. “Holy fuck, your hand feels so good.”

“Mmhm~ just think about how good my pussy will feel when I get you home.” A grunt sounded from him. “Yeah~ you like knowing that you’re going to fuck me when we get home~? You going to reward me for helping you~?”

“Y-Yes, p-please don’t stop Y/N, I can feel it coming. God, I’m going to cum so hard.”

Hearing the pleasure that paved his voice had you pressing your thighs together. “Yeah~ are you going to cum~? Do it; I want you to cum, baby~ I want you to feel so good~ Like the good you are.”

“Y/N?” Gojo jerked, his head searching for the source of your voice. “Hey, is Gojo okay?”

Without missing a beat, you pulled Satoru down with your free hand. Your hand pushed the back of his head into the crook of your neck. Gojo didn’t know what you were doing at first, but as your hand left to join the other stroking his throbbing cock, he picked up on what to do. He whimpered and moaned softly into the crook of your neck.

“Oh yeah, he’s just a bit buzzed right now.” You stroked him harder, squeezing his shaft. “He doesn’t like drinking and thought the punch was safe.”

Satoru’s arms wrapped around you, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His breathing whines were hot against your skin as his balls started to clench. He was so close to cumming, his eyes shutting tight, losing himself in the cooling sensation in his abdomen. So close, he was so close.

“Aww, poor guy, did you need anything?”

Gojo needed whoever the fuck this was to get out of here. He whined out your name into your neck. Hot breath having you shifting.”Y//N c-close.” He whispered as softly as he could as you jerked him faster, both hands working in tandem.

“Nope! We’ll be back inside in a second; I gotta get him home.”

“Okay!”

You waited until the door shut when you moaned with him. “Good boy, good boy~” his fingers dug into your back. “Go on, Toru~ cum for me~ give me it all.”

Satoru cried out into your neck in a nearly silent cry. “Y-/N oooh~ god fuck~ holy fuckin’ shit! C-Cummin’ I-I’m cumming.” You suddenly understood why he loved you, scratching up his back when you came around his cock. It felt good, so good, as he spurted thick ropes of cum all over your hand. “Nnngh oh fuck~! Fuck! Fuck!” His whines were shaky and nearly breathless as his cock weakly twitched in your hand. “Y-Y/NN~”

Gently you let go of his softening cock, bring your cum coated hand to your mouth. Satoru watched you closely, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He had half expectantly thought you were going to wipe his cup off on the inside of his jacket. What he hadn’t been anticipating was for you to flatten your tongue and lick it off. His sensitive cock twitched back to life at the lewd sight.

“Mmm~” You hummed in delight as if you just finished a meal. “So sweet and salty, Satoru~ I wanna taste it first hand when we get home.”

A switch flipped in Satoru’s head, be it post-nut clarity. He grabbed you by the face, turning you so you were pressed against the sliding glass door. The sudden flip had your breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend bent down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“The only one who is doing any sort of tasting when we get home will be me. If you don’t get us out of here fast, I’ll be sampling that soaking cunt right here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you dragged Satoru out of the party, shouting out brash goodbyes. Satoru might be buzzed from the punch. But you were buzzed off of him, and you needed to turn that buzz into a love-drunken affair.

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megalony · 3 months ago

Text

Use Your Voice

Okay, this is my first time posting a Charles Xavier (X-Men) imagine, requested by the lovely @missdreamofendless I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

(I've set this in the middle of X-Men First Class)

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) wants to use her mutation for good and show people that mutants aren't to be feared. But it isn't so easy when she remembers all the times her mutation was used for bad when she was taken advantage of.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft, lulling smile fluttered across (Y/n)'s lips when she felt a familiar pair of hands on her shoulders.

She tilted her head back on the sofa and grinned up at Charles as he stood behind the sofa, his thumbs rubbing circles into the back of her shoulders. She loved the curve of his lips and how his smile made his nose scrunch up as he looked down at her. And those baby blue eyes looked unusually bright tonight. Normally those eyes would be pastel and cloudy, only when Charles was deeply moved or shedding tears would his eyes go dark sienna.

She reached her hand up to hold his wrist and gave a light squeeze while Charles leaned down to peck her temple.

(Y/n) was sure she heard him mumble "Hi," but she wasn't sure if the word passed his lips or simply travelled from his mind through to hers. Either way, her smile conveyed that she had heard him.

Her eyes followed him when he eventually let go and walked past the sofa towards the small table set up in the window bay at the back of the room. The curtains were drawn, the fire was lit and lamps were dotted around the room to give an ambient glow and a cosy atmosphere.

There was a chess board laid out on the table where Erik was patiently waiting for his opponent to sit down and start the game.

(Y/n) liked how classy yet laid back the pair of them looked over there. Erik had one leg crossed over the other and one hand slowly rubbing back and forth over his chin like he was already in the middle of a game he was trying hard not to lose. And his other hand was quietly tapping out a repetitive rhythm against the rim of the table.

Whereas when Charles sat down opposite him, he took a different stance. He sat forward, knees parted to the sides, his left arm folded across the table while his right hand swirled over the top of the chess board, debating what piece to move first.

They looked like they should have been in a reneisance painting. And when Charles looked in her direction and flashed that cocky smile, (Y/n) guessed he'd heard that thought. Her thought process must have been loud for him to hear because Charles always made a point not to go snooping in anyone's mind without permission. He thought it rude and impertinent.

(Y/n) turned her attention back to the book on her lap she had been trying in vain to concentrate on.

She managed to read a page or two before eventually giving up when Raven turned the tv on low and sat down next to her on the sofa.

The others weren't far behind.

They had all been at the mansion for a while now and they were all doing separate training to improve their mutations and build up resistance. They didn't want to fight, but at the same time they had to be prepared for anything. And their mutations needed to be controlled and perfected, none of them had mastered their powers yet, not even Charles or Erik.

Erik didn't know how to harness his strength and churn it into his mutation. Charles was finding out day by day just how much control he could gather and how far his powers spread. Raven needed to stop focusing so much on blending in and perfect the ability to split her concentration without losing whatever image she had transformed into.

The rest of them were younger, they had little grip on their powers and needed to harness them. Alex was one of the worst for his powers, he was very out of touch with his mutation and with him having a dangerous one, the effects could be disastrous.

Closing her book, (Y/n) laid it down on the coffee table and curled her legs up beneath her. She wound her arms around her middle and burrowed into the side of the sofa while she watched the others move round.

Alex flopped down in the armchair nearest to the fire while Hank sat somewhat formally in the other chair. He sat with his back straight and his hands clasped tightly on his lap like he was sitting for an interview. And Sean plonked himself down on the carpet in between both armchairs so he could still be within their little friendship circle near the fireplace.

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) peeked over the back of the sofa towards the two men at the back playing chess. She loved the look of concentration on Charles's face and it was amusing how Erik's brows furrowed down when he was trying to calculate and think ahead of the next moves.

She zoned out for a little while, drifting between watching the game and listening to the news playing quietly in the background on the tv.

"…At least looking at the rest of you, no one knows you're different."

(Y/n) didn't catch the first part of the conversation, but she caught the last part of Hank's words. That statement sliced through her. The way Hank looked down at his hands as he spoke, the way he kept his voice quiet and passive as not to cause an argument between any of them. But he couldn't keep out the hint of envy from his tone.

It wasn't their fault.

(Y/n) hated meeting other mutants whose powers were clearly on display. Those who had different coloured eyes or had an entirely different skin colour, like Raven. Those with missing fingers or enlarged feet like Hank or who had wild hair or pointed teeth.

It wasn't (Y/n) or Charles or Erik's fault that their powers didn't show. They didn't even look any different when they used their powers whereas Alex could pass for 'normal' until he used his powers.

They couldn't control nature or what their mutations were or what they did to them. It was okay for Hank or Raven to sit there and and say that the world looked at them differently because they were visibly outcasts, but no one chose their mutations.

"Your mutation is harmless though, if Alex loses concentration we're all fried." Raven's words hung in the air along with the playful tone and the smirk on her face.

She nudged (Y/n)'s shoulder with a wide grin before she tangled her hand in her long blonde locks and leaned back into the sofa like she was posing for a portrait painting. (Y/n) always found it a little unnerving that Raven worried about her mutation. She could look like anyone she wanted to be, she had a gift people only dreamed about. She could have whatever body she wanted and even when she was in her true form, she was still stunning.

Nobody else got that pleasure, there was only so much people could do to change their appearance.

(Y/n) shuffled forward to reach for her drink that had been long forgotten on the coffee table, but her eyes locked with Hank when he leaned forward towards her. His hands stayed interlocked on his lap but he finally broke the straight composure and slouched forward with his elbows on his thighs.

"So um, your, your mutation is similar to Charles, right?" Hank's words were slow and calculated and clearly directed towards (Y/n).

They had all given brief introductions when they met a few weeks ago and they each said what their mutations were, but (Y/n) hadn't given a visual representation like the others. She didn't want to show off or let them see what she could do. The only two people who had seen her mutation at work were Charles and Erik.

"Oh, not really." (Y/n) glanced her eyes over her shoulder to the boys at the back. She could see Erik sneaking glances in their direction, clearly trying to keep track of his game but also pay interest into their conversation.

Charles didn't spare them a glance. He had mastered listening to voices and concentrating on tasks a long time ago. And he could keep check of (Y/n)'s thoughts since they were becoming louder and louder. His expression was calm and composed but his mind was intently focused, ready to chip into the conversation if necessary.

"I'm not that powerful, I can only give commands, and everyone is aware of what I'm doing, even if they can't stop me."

Sometimes (Y/n)'s mutation felt pointless.

She was a Siren. Her voice was her weapon, she could give people commands, tell them whatever she wanted them to do and they were compelled to do it. But everyone knew they were being controlled, they knew she was forcing their hand even if they couldn't help but obey her command.

Charles was different, he had the more varied, skilled mutation. He could control people, bend them to his will and they didn't know they were being controlled. He could make them forget they had been under his influence. He could make hundreds of people pause in the middle of a restaurant or a city. He could get people to look away or move or follow him. Charles could read their thoughts and get in their heads and see things through their eyes.

(Y/n) couldn't do any of that. She couldn't slip into people's minds, all she could do was hold their control and willpower for a while and make them do whatever she asked of them.

She couldn't give people thoughts or see their thoughts, she couldn't look into their minds or do any snooping or any damage.

"But you could kill someone, couldn't you?"

"I- I've never-"

(Y/n) began to shake her head as the cold fingers of dread clutched around her lungs and started to squeeze.

She had never killed anyone. She had never forced anyone to kill themselves or to commit murder on someone. (Y/n) didn't know if that was possible. She didn't know if she had that much influence. Part of her always hoped that if she ever had to give that command, that the person would have enough willpower to stop her. (Y/n) didn't want to be a murderer or be the reason someone was labelled a murderer.

How fair would that be if she got someone else to commit such an act on her behalf? She would be in control, but they would be physically committing the crime.

"Alex, we're not here to kill, and using our mutations to kill doesn't help our cause." Charles's voice cut through the air like a knife. His tone was cold, his words were firm and his expression was dark.

He was ending that topic before it begun.

They weren't here to kill, they didn't want to kill anyone for their cause and it would only give the humans more advantage and leverage over them. It didn't matter if their mutations could kill. All of them could at some point. Charles had enough power and control to kill many people, all at once. Erik could manipulate bullets. Raven could shape shift into someone else and commit a crime and get away with it.

Alex could definitely cause enough damage to kill someone, and if Sean screamed with a loud enough soundwave, he might just kill someone. And (Y/n) might have the capability to force someone's hand into murder. It was all possible, but it wasn't going to happen.

"How many people can you control at once?" Sean changed the subject, but the conversation was still steered onto (Y/n) and she didn't like it.

She didn't like being the centre of attention and her mutation wasn't one she was proud of. Who could be proud of having the ability to control other people?

It was manipulative.

(Y/n) looked back over her shoulder when she sensed something behind her and she bit her lip when she caught Charles wincing. He heard that last thought.

He didn't think it was manipulative. Charles thought it was a necessary gift. What if someone was going to hurt another person or hurt themselves? What if people needed to get to safety or they were too afraid to do something that was necessary? What if someone needed to make a call but didn't have the nerve?

(Y/n) could help them all, she could tell them what to do in those situations or tell them to walk to safety or to put a weapon down or let people go. There was so much good she could do, but all she could see was the bad that could happen from her mutation.

"Three." (Y/n) finally answered with a weak smile. She had been practicing, but three people seemed her maximum capacity for now. It was hard enough telling one person what to do without having to focus on splitting her attention and controlling other people to her will.

"What if I-"

"Sean, unless you want another flying lesson with Erik, do not ask that question."

Charles lifted his right hand to his temple and started to rub his fingers along the side of his head. He was getting a headache. There may not be many people here in the mansion, but all their thoughts were becoming louder and it was getting harder and harder not to listen to them.

There was something authorative in Charles's voice, something demanding and powerful enough to end the conversation then and there. Added with the fact that he didn't look away from the chess board, it made Sean shrink down in his seat on the floor and look towards his feet.

(Y/n) managed a small grin to herself when she heard Charles murmur "Checkmate."

She reached forward for her glass and got up, shaking it to tell them she was going for a refill and excusing herself from this conversation. They could all exchange stories and talk about their mutations without her, it would go smoother because the rest of them were open about their abilities.

On a second thought, she turned to the right and walked towards where the boys were playing their game in the window. She approached slowly, watching the way Erik's lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes looked colder now he had lost. He didn't like losing, but he managed to hide it somewhat well.

While Erik started to line the pieces back up in order on the board, (Y/n) reached across for the empty glass beside Charles.

Her lips curved into a smile and she felt her nerves settling down when his arm looped around her waist and he reeled her into his side so her knees were nudging against his thigh.

His hand started to glide up and down her back and his lips curved into a soft grin when (Y/n) leaned over to kiss the top of his head.

"Want another drink?"

"Please." Charles trailed his fingertips down her waist, over her hip and across the back of her thigh until (Y/n) eventually pulled out of his embrace and headed into the kitchen.

She hummed quietly as she set about making a drink, ensuring to keep her voice quiet and her tune random. Singing was a trigger for her mutation and although it didn't give people any commands or force them to do anything, it drew people closer to (Y/n). Her voice could put them under a trance and have people crowd round her, unsure what they wanted, just knowing they had to be close to her.

She poured a whiskey for Charles and made herself a drink, but she paused when heavy footsteps caught her attention.

It was only Alex.

He got himself a drink from the fridge, but instead of leaving the kitchen, he leaned his arms on the counter beside (Y/n). Arching his back out as he looked up at her with one raised brow.

"What's that look for?"

"Just that… you have such a good power."

(Y/n) let out a quiet huff with a faded, sad smile on her lips. "Do you know the myths about sirens? Creatures of the sea, they use their songs to lure sailors to their deaths. My power means I have to control people, it's not nice, you know."

The history behind her powers was dark. Sirens were depicted to be ravenous, dark creatures who sought out sailors on the sea and gave them bad luck. They would sing to the sailors and drag them overboard, they would make them crash their vessels and drown in the sea.

(Y/n) didn't like having to control people, she would much rather have an ability where the only control she had was over herself.

"People cry out for any sense of power, they would kill for the kind of power you have. Own it. You could do so much with it."

"Oh yeah, like what?" (Y/n) sank her teeth down into her lower lip and snook a glance behind Alex. She wouldn't mind if Charles or Erik came in and swiftly changed the conversation. She didn't like where this was going.

"Think about it, you could control so much. You could make them pass laws for us, make the President resign, put mutants in control. Make us superior. If you just take control. You and Charles could be unstoppable."

A subtle tremor coursed down (Y/n)'s spine and had her arms coiling into her chest.

She didn't like those words. Those few little words brought back bad memories. She could still hear that snide tone as if he were standing behind her now, whispering in her ear. He had always used her mutation to his advantage.

If you just take control, we can have everything we need.

We wouldn't be caught up in this mess if you controlled it properly.

Tell him. Tell him. You should have told him to pull the trigger. You're too weak.

"Unstoppable," (Y/n) murmured under her breath, a faraway look in her eyes as she turned and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

She didn't want to be unstoppable. She didn't want to be in control or in the limelight. (Y/n) didn't want to lead a crusade or become a marytr for the cause, and she certainly didn't want to be used as a pawn in a game. She had done that enough in the past.

***

It was hard for Charles to sleep when there were a lot of people around him. He grew up listening to his parent's thoughts and trying his best not to delve into Raven's whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The few servants they had slept in the rooms in the attic, so their thoughts were distant and never run rampid while they were sleeping.

Having the mansion lively with people meant Charles had to concentrate so he didn't slip into their thoughts at night. He didn't want to intrude and his concentration always wavered when he was trying to sleep.

The only saving grace he had was that (Y/n) never minded if his mind went wandering into hers during the night. She understood it was hard to keep concentration and she knew Charles meant no harm. She was the one sleeping next to him in his bed, the least she could do was understand if he happened to hear her thoughts when they were so close to his own.

Sometimes when he was sleeping and people were around, his dreams ended up morphing with theirs. Or their thoughts shaped his dreams and morphed his nightmares into something strange.

Tonight was a little different to that.

A frown set into Charles's previously slack expression and he flopped a hand over his eyes and the bridge of his nose. His fingertips rubbed into his temple and the base of his hand nudged against his eyes that were squinting even though they were closed.

His mind was aching. He didn't realise until he tried to open his eyes that his head felt like it was pounding and vibrating.

He pushed up on his elbows and looked around the room. Everything was draped in darkness, it was nowhere near morning and therefore not time to think about getting up.

Do it! I don't want to- You have to!

Those three little words caused Charles to quiver. His knees jolted up, his body propelled forward so he was sitting up in bed and his hand cradled the side of his temple again. God, those words were screaming around in his head and he found himself wanting to do something. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but there was a deep rooted sense of compulsion in the forefront of his mind.

(Y/n). His eyes darted to the left and squinted to adjust to the darkness as he tried to look down at his partner laid beside him.

She was laid on her side facing Charles, with her knees coiled up to her stomach and her arms pressing so tightly into her chest he was surprised she was able to breathe. Her arms were writhing from side to side and Charles could see her lips moving like she was trying to whisper something in her sleep.

Twisting to lean on his left elbow, Charles carefully reached his hand out and feathered his fingers over (Y/n)'s temple.

His lips pursed and his nose scrunched up as he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He didn't want to intrude or invade, but he could tell she was having some sort of nightmare and he didn't want her to start lashing out or using her mutation in her sleep. The last thing they needed was everyone in the mansion waking up and knowing (Y/n) was experiencing nightmares.

I don't want to.

You don't have to, not anymore. It's okay, you need to wake up now.

Charles's voice was like a soft serenading song, overriding the memories acting out in her mind and the voices that were trying to get louder and louder. They ceased to exist when Charles slipped into her mind.

(Y/n) woke with a start, gasping and blinking rapidly. Her hand shot up to grip Charles's wrist, her nails scratching into his skin deep enough to create crescent moons and start to draw flecks of blood. Her eyes darted from left to right, looking for signs, for objects and people, for a hint to tell her whether this was another nightmare or if this was real.

She found a pair of deep sienna eyes burning into hers with an intensity she hadn't seen before. Those eyes captured (Y/n)'s full attention and a rush of heat blossomed all across her skin when she felt his hand glide down to cup her cheek. His thumb grazed across her cheekbone just beneath her eye and after a few seconds, (Y/n) let her eyes dart down to look at his lips.

Those ruby red lips were curved up into a soft, melting smile that did wonders for her shattered nerves.

"I'm sorry,"

"You don't need to be."

(Y/n) let herself lean into his touch while he rested his weight on his elbow, leaning over her. His thumb continued to glide across her skin and (Y/n) wasn't quite sure what he was looking at, but the calmness in his eyes was overwhelming. She couldn't help but shiver when he reached out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Did you see?" Her voice was quiet and the air of defeat woven into her tone made Charles frown.

He took a few seconds to find the right words and took a deep breath, tilting his head to the left with narrowed eyes.

"I heard." His thumb glided along her chin and up her jaw while he moved his other hand to prop his head up and wove his fingers into his hair. "I hear that voice a lot, when you're dreaming… is that him?"

Charles didn't like to ask. He never liked to intrude. The few people growing up who knew of his mutation all became wary of him. They didn't want him close by, they always feared he was peering into their thoughts, prodding around in their memories and finding out their darkest fears. The funny thing was, when they had all these worries, their thoughts became louder and amplified in Charles's mind rather than when they just acted normal around him.

He never wanted to snoop or look around in anyone's mind unless they told him it was okay, but more so with (Y/n). They were together, they knew things about each other that no one else did. But Charles wanted to know that information through conversation and trust, not by peering into her thoughts and delving into her mind.

But he couldn't help it sometimes when (Y/n)'s thoughts or her nightmares got loud. He heard that voice a lot when she got lost in memories or had bad nights and Charles never wanted to pry, but it didn't take a genius to work out who that dark, illusive figure was from (Y/n)'s past.

A quiet hum left (Y/n)'s lips and she nodded her head, shuffling forward until she could tuck her face into his chest.

She felt him take a deep breath and for a moment, she feared he was going to sit up or turn away. But instead, Charles dropped his head back onto the pillow and twisted so he was lying on his back again. His left arm slid beneath (Y/n)'s neck to drape around the back of her shoulders.

She could feel his fingers feathering across her back over the top of her night shirt. Soft patterns were drawn onto her skin while she shuffled closer to rest her cheek on his chest and drape her arm up so her hand could curl around his shoulder.

"Your powers aren't bad, love." He whispered softly against the top of her head. "No mutation is bad, not if it's used in the right way, for the right reasons."

"I didn't use mine for the right reasons." (Y/n) closed her eyes and burrowed her face deeper into his chest to fight off the threat of tears.

It had been a while ago, long enough now that (Y/n) hoped to forget. She wanted her life to be better. She wanted meeting Charles and Erik to be the turning point, the better point where she could use her mutation for the right reasons. She wanted to help people and to show them that no mutant was dangerous or deserved to be treated this way.

But (Y/n) hadn't always used her powers for good, not when her ex had been around, anyway.

"You didn't have a choice, that's different."

It didn't feel different. It felt like (Y/n) had done something increadibly wrong. She could still remember the look on her ex's face when she mistakingly trusted him to see her mutation. He had seen something valuable, something he could use. Not something to be nurtured and harnessed and used for good.

He was always pushing (Y/n) to use her powers. Telling her to make people look the other way. To make them give her things or do his bidding for him. He made her help him steal things and take what he wanted and to make people fear him.

She could still hear his voice in her head all those times she tried to say no, all those times she tried to leave or tell him her powers weren't a weapon or something to threaten people with.

Just because you don't look like a mutant doesn't mean you're safe. I know what you are, and I know what they'll do to you if they find out, so you need to use your voice and listen to me.

(Y/n) didn't realise how snide and gruelling that voice sounded in her head until she felt Charles wince beneath her.

"You know you're safe here, don't you? You're safe with me." Those words caused (Y/n) to shiver and her lips broadened into a smile that morphed when she kissed his bare chest.

"I know."

"We can't change the past, love, but the future isn't written yet."

Charles might not be able to change what had happened to (Y/n) in the past, but he could try his best to help her come to terms with those memories and nightmares. He could push them to the back of her mind if she asked him to.

And no part of their future was written yet. The past was set in stone, but the future was a clear slate, ready to be inscribed. They could do whatever they liked, they could use their gifts in whatever manner they chose, and there was no one here would be able to tell (Y/n) how to use her power. No one could force her to use it for the wrong reasons if she didn't want to.

Here, now, (Y/n) was the only one who could wield her power and choose what to do with it. No one was going to threaten or manipulate her or force her hand.

He wouldn't let them.

#imagine #x men #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier imagine #x men first class #x men fanfiction

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almostempty · 4 months ago

Text

Want You Bad

Self Esteem Part 2

Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel ignores you at the lake until he can't. Loosely inspired by the song Want You Bad by The Offspring (to stay on theme, ya know?).

Warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), smash and dash, get railed against a truck, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, dirt, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak,

Notes: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: major thanks to everyone who read part 1, as well as my muse @auteurdelabre , and my co-chair of the horny4joel club @lovely-vamp-princess for encouraging me

WC: 4.8K

AO3: Here | Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 3: Kick and Scream

Part 4: The more you suffer

Your fingers hover over the brightly lit screen of your phone. Your friend, Katie, invited you to a barbecue at Toad Lake and assured you it would be a relaxed group. Just food, drinks, sun, and swimming. But how can it be relaxing if Joel is going to be there? If he was even invited. If he even shows up. He drives you insane. It’s her fault anyway.

Katie’s boyfriend was friends with Tommy. Tommy invited Joel to some karaoke night at a bar a few months back. That was the catalyst for your personal hell. You don’t even know why he showed up; he refused to sing anything. But he did offer to give you a ride home so Katie could leave with her man.

You were surprised by the gesture. The way he’d barely said anything to you all night made you think he wasn’t interested in remembering your name. But the way his shoulders filled out the green flannel he wore and then when he rolled up the sleeves? He was like The Brawny Man come to life. And that paper towel mascot lookalike was so your type. In fact, the way he nearly flat-out ignored you was also a turn-on but not one you thought your therapist would approve of. So when he offered a ride, you accepted.

You tested the waters on the ride home, attempting to make some small talk. He was different one on one. Charmed you with his sharp wit and some flirty compliments. You couldn’t tear your eyes off him, his hands, his arms, his profile, and his dark features in the glow of the streetlights. You lingered when he pulled up to the curb in front of your place.

“I’m glad you drove me home,” you said, “it was nice to get to know you a little bit.”

“Was nice,” he agreed dragging his thumb under his bottom lip, pulling your attention to his mouth, “I’d like to get to know you a little more.”

You felt your cheeks warm at that and smiled back. “Would you like to come inside?” you floated the offer, and the look on his face sealed the deal.

But today, you haven’t heard from Joel in over a week. He doesn’t usually last much longer than two weeks before you find him at your door. He disappears just long enough that you start to build up the courage to tell him off for being a flake. The only reliable thing about Joel, though, is that when he does show up, he always leaves you feeling completely spent. What’s the harm in enjoying what he can do with his body? You don’t think you spend an unhealthy amount of time daydreaming about him.

You don’t want to anticipate seeing him at the lake and get disappointed if he’s a no-show. Instead, you’d rather your chest constrict with anxiety until Saturday while you debate sending him a text to ask him yourself. You decide against it. You don’t want to double-text since he never answered your last message anyway.

Saturday arrives quickly, and it’s the perfect day to be at the lake. Clear skies and hot sun. Your car is an oven as you slide your beach bag and cooler backpack into the backseat. You sit in the driver’s seat and roll down all the windows. You flip down the visor to look in the little mirror at your reflection.

It’s casual, you remind yourself. Just friends, food, and floating in the lake. You put on some waterproof mascara anyway, definitely not because Joel might be there. You look casual. You found your favorite black bikini last night and tried it on to make sure it still fits the way you like. Basic triangle top and bottoms with strings that tie on your hips. It still fits snugly but without cutting into your back or shoulders. It hugs everything in the right places and displays all the right skin. For your friends. At the casual barbecue.

You stare at yourself, practically pointing a finger at your reflection to drill the idea into your head. If he’s there, it doesn’t mean anything. If he wants to be nonchalant, you’ll be nonchalant even harder. And you’ll look good as you do. Give him a taste of the same rejection you keep experiencing.

Toad Lake is almost a secret. It’s small, outside of town, and private except for one small area with access to swimming and a small dock. When you and Katie lived together, you used to hit it up after work. Jumping off the dock unless there were people fishing. Or just floating near the shore with pool noodles while debriefing about the day.

You pull off the main road onto the winding gravel road that takes you to the public access. It’s dense with trees and full of potholes. You bounce along in your car, listening to the gravel crunch under the tires.

Parking is tight. The first lot only fits five or six cars on the gravel spots, and past that, maybe another seven or eight would fit in the dirt spots. You recognize most of the cars already parked as you pull into one of the furthest spots. You don’t see Joel’s truck, and your stomach drops with a wave of disappointment as you pull in between someone else’s truck and a jeep. You don’t want to think about him or feel let down.

There’s a short but steep and winding path that leads to the water. You round the corner, finally able to see through the trees to the beach, and recognize him immediately. The unmistakable frame of Joel Miller. The shape of his body and that signature stance. You’d recognize him by the back of his head in a crowd with one eye closed. Butterflies stir in your stomach, and at the same time, your throat feels dry.

He’s such a dick, you think as you trudge down the path in your sandals. Maybe you should ask him if his phone still works. No. That would blow up in your face. You’d just be broadcasting that it hurts when he rejects you. You do not want to face that fear. Maybe coming here was a total mistake. Regret and fear claw viciously at your throat with each step you take.

Joel seems to dance around you, just avoiding being on your path as you greet everyone and catch up. Tommy is friendly and chats with you for a moment before getting Joel’s attention, forcing you to interact.

“You remember Joel, right?” he asks.

You laugh brightly. “Of course, the one and only,” you say with a smile.

Joel nods at you. Doesn’t even say a fucking word. His dark brown eyes just bore into you for the longest second before giving you a curt smile. Tommy laughs at something while Joel turns away to find something to look busy with. Or someone. You gawk briefly as you watch him turn to chat with some woman you don’t know.

Blowing you off on your attempts at dates is one thing, but acting like he doesn’t even know you? What the fuck is with this guy? Who’s the woman he seems so friendly with?

You remember how to close your mouth and decide to set up your spot along the beach. You strip off your T-shirt and adjust the straps on your bikini. Rifling through your bag for some sunscreen, you find the lotion first. Smiling to yourself, you imagine asking Joel to help get your back. Would he refuse? Would his lady friend be jealous? You actually don’t want to know. You dig around until you find the spray sunscreen. You don’t need a man applying any cream to your back.

You swear you feel his eyes burning into you, but when you look around, he’s turned and talking to her. Whatever. You figure it’s safest for your sanity to head straight for the water. You grab your pool float and start to blow it up. You feel that burning sensation again, but you turn, and he’s busy swigging down a drink. You grab one for yourself, and with a drink in one hand and the pool float under the other arm, you march right into the water. It’s perfect. Just warm enough, it doesn’t shock your system. Cool enough to ease the oppressing heat of the sun.

“The water is perfect! Why am I the only one in here?” you call to Katie.

“Alright, I’m coming!” she calls back.

You laze in the water for most of the afternoon. Chatting with friends, cheering on a wobbly friend learning to stand on a paddleboard, and just resting peacefully.

Joel sits in a beach chair, observing. You stare back under your sunglasses, hoping it’s not noticeable. Your thoughts spiral again. What is his issue? You aren’t good enough? He doesn’t wanna get caught talking to you? You consider cornering Tommy to dig up some dirt, but it’s too late. Joel is pulling his shirt over his head. You’re locked on. You fight to keep from reacting. His sun-kissed frame strolls towards the lakeshore. You watch as he gets waist-deep before he pushes off and glides through the water. When his head re-emerges, and he shakes the water from his hair, you feel your mouth drop open. You quickly fill it with the beverage in your hand.

You keep staring. Watching the beads of water roll down his shoulders. You’d like to sink your teeth into the skin on his neck. You’d like to wrap your legs around his hips under the water—“oh, shit!” you yelp.

A kid swimming behind you got a little too excited, kicking water and splashing it all over your face. You grimace. You didn’t mean to swear at the kid. It was just the shock of it. No big deal. Since your hair is wet now anyway, you might as well get all the way in the water.

You drop off your floaty and empty drink on your blanket. Tossing your sunglasses off, too. You walk back into the water and dive under yourself. It’s refreshing. You’re close to Joel when you pop up again. He looks at you this time. Acknowledges you’re a real, live human in front of him.

“All wet now, huh?” he smirks.

“Oh, fuck off, Joel,” you scoff at him. You swim away before he can say anything else.

You lay out, letting the sun dry your wet skin. Until you’re ready to leave. The idea of a shower and aircon sounds pretty good to you. You gather your things, say your goodbyes, and hike up the path to your car.

With your bags in the backseat, you grab your towel. Your bikini and hair are still dripping wet. You squeeze your hair with the towel when you hear someone approaching. You look over your shoulder, and of course, it’s him. You turn away, continuing to towel at your hair. You can feel his body hovering behind yours.

“Hey, baby,” he says, low and syrupy.

“Are you joking?” you spew incredulously, not bothering to look at him. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“My what?”

“I didn’t catch her name.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, baby. It’s not like that.” His large hands wrap around either side of your hips. “Y’look nice in this,” he coos, ignoring your spite and toying with the strings tied at your hips. You turn and shove at his chest. He leans against the truck behind him.

“Why are you up here, Joel? You want to ignore me around our friends, then follow me to my car like a dog? You’ve got fuckin’ problems, man. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He’s smiling at you like it’s endearing that you’re telling him off.

“Oh my god, let me guess. You think I look sexy when I’m mad?”

“No,” he defends and steps closer. He runs his fingers under the strap on your shoulder. His touch burns white hot against your skin, branding you. You shiver. “You always look sexy,” he rasps. It’s not charming. He’s still an ass. But it feels so good when he says it. He’s so close you can smell the sunscreen and sweat on his skin. Everything about his presence chips away at your defenses.

“Could barely stand watching you in the water,” he adds. When did his mouth get so close to you? His hot breath runs over the shell of your ear. “Want you bad.”

“Liar,” you argue with less venom.

“Am not,” he hums. A hand slides up your neck, thumb under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes are heavy with lust. He’s still smiling. You wonder if that’s how he’d look if you woke up next to him. A dreamy smile with his tousled hair and scruffy cheeks.

He takes your hand, so delicate compared to his. Slowly, he brings it towards his body and wraps it around the stiff bulge in his swim trunks. “Feel like I’m lying?” He watches the tiny muscles in your face twitch as you suppress your reaction. Then your brows pull together, and you glare.

“You think you can just follow me up here, get your hands on me, and then what? You’ll have me on my knees in the dirt for you? You think I wanna catch some dirty lake water disease from your cock in my mouth?”

He squeezes your hand harder like his dick will argue for him. Maybe you’d hear it out.

“You gonna tell me you don’t want this?” he asks, narrowing his eyes, “bet you’re wet from more than just the lake, pretty baby.” He’s not wrong, but you’re not going to admit it. Wait, did he say pretty? A laugh, shriek, and loud splash from the lake below breaks you out of his trance. Your tunnel vision expands. You pull your hand from his grip.

“Why are you up here, Joel?”

“Couldn’t just watch you leave.”

You scoff at him and whip back around. You’re quick, but he’s bigger and stronger. His hands pull at your hips, slamming your body back into his. The damp skin of his chest sticks to your back.

“We’re not fucking in the parking lot,” you snap. You can feel how hard he is. Pressed against the curve of your ass. His swim trunks and your wet Lycra bikini are the only barriers between you.

“Maybe s’what you get for being a filthy fuckin’ tease,” his gravelly voice rumbles in your ear.

“How am I a tease?” you squirm against him, but the friction only makes both of you more pathetic as you gasp and he groans.

“Wearing this.” He pulls at the string of your bikini on one shoulder and lets it snap back. “Laying on that towel, ass up, like you were waiting for me to fill it,” he squeezes a cheek for emphasis, “floating in the water with these perfect tits barely hidden.” He pulls at the triangles of fabric covering them, sliding them apart until your breasts pop out. Exposing you under the shade of the trees.

“You’re delusional,” you accuse. But all the venom is gone. The words come out breathy. His body is wrapped around you, constricting. His hand travels down your stomach, slipping under the bikini and between your legs. His fingers find exactly what they were searching for. Your slick folds part easily, welcoming his fingers deeper.

“Doesn’t feel like a delusion to me, baby.” Wretched man. Always has to prove a point. You’re running out of the mental fortitude to argue. You also feel ridiculous, standing between someone’s truck and your car, tits out, his hand between your legs.

“Isn’t someone gonna wonder where you are?” you try to find a reason you should stop.

“No, said I had to make a call.”

“A call? So your phone does work,” you chide, using your last brain cell. He plunges two fingers into your aching pussy, effectively shutting you up. A moan is the only noise you can form.

“Thought I already taught you to quit arguing with me.” His irritation is muffled by his lips pressed into the skin of your neck.

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“You wanna try askin’ nicely?” he goads in your ear. His fingers curl as he drags them in and out of you. You let yourself focus on the sensation. Your head falls, chin to your chest, and you watch the muscles and tendons in his arm flexing and rippling while he works you into a needy mess. It’s hot. His arm is firm and tan from days spent working in the hot sun. Against the soft, cushiony flesh of your curves, it’s almost menacing, but it provides you with support. Like he could balance you forever against his one arm. He might have to if your knees give out.

The noises coming from you both are obscene. You feel his chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades, slowing down time. Joel moves shamelessly, his hips roll and grind into the swell of your ass. He’s curled around you like a wild beast claiming his prize in the forest. It gives you some kind of sick ego trip; he hurt you, but now he’s here attached to you with desperate want. You slide a hand behind your head, feeling for his soft, damp hair on the back of his head, confirming this whole perverse scenario is real. You tug at his hair, eliciting a rough groan from his lips. He seems to have forgotten his own question, entranced by you.

Joel watches the sweat beading on your chest and runs his hot tongue up your neck into the hinge of your jaw. He savors your sweat-salted taste with a deep hum that vibrates from his chest into your spine. It lights sparks along your nerves.

You grind back against him as his palm presses firmly into your clit, and his fingers keep stroking at just the right spot. The pressure building feels overwhelming. He’s all consuming the way he surrounds you. The sound of his breath, his scent, the way your skin sticks against one another, it floods your senses. Your breath quickens, and your muscles coil tight with tension, buzzing with need.

“Give it to me,” his words scrape across gravel. The tension in your core snaps, abdomen spasming, and your pussy clenching at his fingers for more. The hand you have on the back of his neck clings tightly for support. He loosens his grip around you and slows his movements as you start to take deeper and deeper breaths of air. Fresh air. Because you’re in the parking lot at the lake. Your senses sharpen, and your vision clears. You fix your bikini top in a rush, adjusting the fabric and straps fighting through your tangled mess of limbs crossed with Joel’s.

You can hear other footsteps on the path. Turning to face Joel, you flash a smile on your flushed face at him.

“Good timing,” you quip as you look beyond Joel and past the bed of the truck to see who’s coming up the path. You wave at a couple of friends as they carry their bags to their vehicle. Joel doesn’t turn to look. Doesn’t seem to move a muscle. You look back at his face.

One brow raised; he looks like he knows something you don’t. A frown pulls at your face. He executes his maneuver before you can devise a retort for his expression. He yanks hard on the ends of the bows that tie your bikini bottoms together. Your jaw drops as the fabric falls. Your hand flies out to slap his chest at the audacity, but he grips your wrist in his hand.

“Not nice to hit people, baby,” he condescends as if you were the one in the wrong. You’re fuming. Blood boiling.

“What–” you’re cut off by his other hand grabbing your jaw with a vice grip.

“Quiet,” he snaps. You hear the sounds of the car backing out and pulling away. Tires kicking up a cloud of dust. You can’t see past Joel’s wide frame as he holds your head in place. You grab at his forearm, but it’s useless. You’re defenseless in his grip. Vulnerable between the vehicles and the trees. Why does that make your cunt ache and throb? You squirm. “You gonna behave?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question.

“Uhuh,” you respond through your clenched teeth, your lips unnaturally squished and parted between his fingers and thumb. You give up on prying at his arm and run your hand down his bare chest towards his swim trunks instead. Your touch brings a smirk to his face.

“Yeah, you are,” he agrees. Reading your sordid motives like a love letter, he carries on. He drops your jaw and readjusts your positioning. Joel moves you with ease. He lifts you and backs you into the window to the backseat of the truck, his hands under your thighs. If you had any sense left, you might consider it vulgar to be fucked wide open in a parking lot, but the animalistic expression on Joel’s face wipes your mind blank. You lock your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as if he were the one caught in your trap. He looks at you like he’s trying to etch all the details of you in this position into his mind. It stirs that depraved sense of pride in your chest.

“Take it out,” he orders. You obey. Snaking a hand between your bodies to free his cock from his swim trunks. Both of you watch, chins tucked to your chests as your hand wraps around his stiff shaft. The sight makes your mouth water. He seems similarly affected. You think you’ll have hand-shaped bruises on the back of your legs the way his grip tightens and his fingertips dig into your skin. He leans closer, seeking your slick, wet entrance. You guide his leaking tip with your own pleasure in mind instead. He watches as you use him like a toy. You swirl the head of his cock around your swollen clit. The pressure and heat blur your vision. You slip him through your folds until he’s coated in your glossy arousal. You keep playing, creating lewd noises between your legs. He’s talking to you, you realize, and tune back in.

“Keep teasin’ like that. Gonna fuck you til you can’t walk. Give it to this needy little pussy the way no one else can, right, baby? Stretch you out and fill you up. Send you home dripping.” He rambles on with his threats. They make you dumb.

“Fuck, please, please, please,” you respond with tight exhales.

His head shoots up.

“You hear that?” he asks, and you freeze. Straining to listen. You can hear the birds in the trees. The muffled voices down at the lakeshore. You listen for voices or footsteps getting closer, but they don’t exist.

“Hear what?” you pant.

“The sound of you begging for my cock.”

Your face heats. You feel another surge of arousal flood your already-soaked center.

“Fuck off, Joel.”

“It’s a pretty sound, baby. Want you to be bad.” His words light something fierce inside of you. You need him inside you, now. He doesn’t help as you wiggle in his grip, trying to slip him inside of you. He exhales a puff of air in amusement at your struggle.

“Do it again. Beg.”

“Please, Joel.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me. Need you to fuck me hard.” A twisted wave of humiliation and need for approval courses through you. Begging for him, trying to tug him closer. You’re a mess for him.

“There she is,” he smiles. It’s devious, but it makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb even harder.

You line him up with your entrance, and he fills you in one motion.

“Fuck,” you mouth as your head slides back against the truck. He fulfills his threats and splits you around his cock over and over. His hips snap into you with a force that sends shockwaves rippling across your body. Joel fucks you like a man possessed. Driving into you brutally, rocking the truck behind you. You try to stifle the cries pouring out of your throat, focusing on breathing, squeezing your eyes shut, and digging your nails into his shoulders. Pinning you with his body frees his hand, and he wastes no time using it to grope at every inch of you he can.

He slows and rocks into you more tenderly, confusing you. He peers around the cab and waves at someone. Oh, shit. They can’t see you through the cab windows, right? Fuck.

“Hey, put me down,” you hiss.

“It’s just Tommy,” he replies. How is that better?

Then you hear him calling to Joel.

“Hey, you see my sunglasses on the dash?”

Joel looks through into the driver’s window as if you didn’t even exist.

“Yeah, you want ‘em?” Joel calls back to Tommy.

“Yeah, you comin' back down?”

“Yep, be there in a minute if you want me to bring them.” He calls back to Tommy. Still rolling against you, just grinding at a mind-numbingly slow speed.

“You’re sick,” you whisper at Joel while you grind back into him, and Tommy shouts a thank you in the distance. Joel thrusts up into you more harshly. Your breath catches as his eyes lock onto yours with his full attention.

“Felt to me like you enjoyed the risk.” His voice sounds like a taunt, but he’s not wrong. Joel talking to Tommy like you weren’t wrapped around his cock sent a rush through your veins. You decide not to admit that out loud.

“This is Tommy’s truck?” you ask between gasps.

“Yep.”

You had some snarky comment to make, but you give up as he resumes his pace, and your thoughts fade away. Joel’s filthy stream of consciousness starts up again between low grunts and groans. His voice and the noises he makes bounce around in your skull. He makes you feel weightless.

Each time his hips meet the cradle of your pelvis, you nearly burst, complimenting his movements with an enthusiastic rhythm. You arch your spine, angling just a little deeper, chanting out breathy prayers of fuck, fuck, fuck, and yes, yes, yes, when he slips a hand down to draw circles around your clit.

“That’s it. Let me feel it,” he demands as you writhe.

You give in, and it drives him crazy. The way your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows pinch, your mouth hangs open, and your body involuntarily shudders against him. He feels the way you start to relax, but your body jerks and clings tighter to him a few more times. He can’t slow down. It fuels his unbridled urge to come inside you as deep as he can.

“That’s my baby,” he husks. My baby? You feel butterflies as you try to catch your breath while he ramps up his force.

“Gonna fill you up. Fuck you full.”

“Yes,” you reply, not sure he’s even listening with the intensity of his look as he barrels towards his release. When he stills, and you feel it, you can’t stifle the sounds in your throat. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, and his hips lurch into you as if he could fuck his come any deeper. He smothers you as he comes down. With his chest crushing you into the truck, you can feel when his breathing starts to slow. You rake your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and breathing him in. Your pussy might be sore for a day, but your ego is full, and you feel sated.

Joel pulls out of you with a barely audible pained noise and asks if you can stand before releasing you fully from his grip.

“I still have two legs,” you joke. But you look like you might topple over if he lets go. He hugs you into him for a tender kiss; it’s quick, but you drown in it. He props you up and presses another kiss to your sweaty temple.

Then it’s happening again. He pulls his shorts back up, opens the truck, and grabs Tommy’s sunglasses. You grab your towel to wrap around your naked lower half. The truck door slams, and you turn. He’s already walking away.

“Drive safe,” he calls over his shoulder while you pick up your bikini bottoms from the dirt.

An empty feeling starts to shroud your satisfied glow as the sound of his footsteps fades away. He did call you “my baby,” though. He doesn’t say that to just anyone, right?

437 notes · View notes

the-californicationist · 26 days ago

Text

Cali's Kinktober: Day 13

Kinktober Masterlist pulvis et umbra sumus - "we are dust and shadow" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > monsters, knotting, ritual magic sex in a cave Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Monster AU where the TF141 are gargoyles. You love your shitty 87th floor apartment, you really do. Sure, the view is mostly fog and smog and clouds, but your balcony is shielded by four awesome gargoyles. You spend long nights admiring their statuesque figures wishing they could come to life and please you since no human man seems to be able to. Be careful what you wish for, I guess?

Warning: short part with an abusive ex-boyfriend, but he gets gargoyled pretty quickly, so it's short-lived.

Rain pelted the grimy, floor-to-ceiling windows of your apartment. It seemed like it was always raining. You loved living downtown in District 10, you really did, but damn if it wasn’t hard to meet people. Sure, millions of people lived in the city right alongside you, but other than a few dates to the ramen shop around the corner, your attempts to find The One had fallen flat.

It was the same song and dance. They’d ask what you did for a living, and if they stuck around after you told them that you were a professional streamer, they either thought you were rich or that you wanted to flash your pussy on camera for money. Either way, the only guys who stuck around after they made their judgements about your job were either disappointed by your shitty studio apartment or were terrible in the sack. Clearly, they just wanted an easy lay and never called you again.

You didn’t really have anyone to complain to since your best friend abandoned you for Topeka, of all places, to get married and have a litter of babies. You were happy for her, truly, but bitching to a woman who was cherished by her man about your shitty Tinder dates was a dark, dark time that you didn’t care to have.

So, you smoked, and you told your gargoyles all about it.

Your apartment was unique in the fact that you had the entire patio to yourself, and it was shielded from the wind by the outstretched wings of four enormous gargoyles. They were huge, at least seven feet tall, and their bodies looked like they were ready to compete in the next strongman world championship.

You’d named them all, of course. There was the spooky one with a skull-shaped mask over his face and huge fangs that you called Mr. Bones, one with a mohawk that you named Mr. T, a supermodel-hot statue that you named Mr. Vain, and your favorite one, the biggest of them all and the guardian that sat right next to your bed, Mr. Big.

That’s where you found yourself tonight. You were crouched in your usual spot, tucked in an oversized raincoat, a pair of wellies, and nothing else, smoking a cigarette under the protective wings of Mr. Big.

You watched the tip glow golden bright as you took a drag, holding it in longer than normal, hoping to feel something other than disappointed.

“He was such a jerk, Big. Didn’t even bring a condom. Not sure someone with a dick that small should have that sort of audacity, ya know?”

Mr. Big didn’t reply. He looked out over the dense, foggy night and shielded you from the rain, keeping you dry while you smoked.

You leaned against his chest as he crouched over you, raking your eyes over his body with more appraisal than you usually did, confessing aloud,

“I bet you’ve got cock for days under that loincloth. And I bet you’d pay for a babe’s dinner. Maybe even buy her a strawberry shake afterwards. Bet you wouldn’t ask to come up; you’d just wait to be invited. And I bet you’d bring your own damn condoms to a third date, huh?”

He loomed. You sighed,

“Yeah, I know you would. You know what?”

At that very moment, you gazed up into the sky as the clouds shifted and cleared, revealing a heavy, orange harvest moon. You spotted a streak of falling stars out of the corner of your eye, and you watched as they crossed the moon’s body, falling towards earth, burning up a million miles away, and you said,

“I wish you guys were real.”

You watched the stars vanish over the horizon, and you took one last drag off of your cigarette, flinging it off the side like a nasty little gremlin, not caring where it landed or what catastrophe you had just contributed to. This whole world was fucked. What was one more cigarette butt, right?

“But, you’re not real, Mr. Big. Maybe one day you’ll wake up and come save me from this damn carousel of nightmares. You and your buddies could fly me around, give me a mindblowing fuck, and steal me away from here. Wouldn’t that be something?”

You stood up next to him, barely tall enough to reach his face even though he was crouched over. You caressed his cheek, wiping the raindrops from his brow, and lifted yourself up to kiss him on the corner of his bearded mouth, right where his fang protruded from the lip, round and sharp like a boar’s tusk.

“Goodnight, Mr. Big. See you in the morning.”

You toweled dry as you stepped through the window, using the same old towel you’d been using all week, making a mental note to get around to the laundry. Then, you snuggled under the covers, checking your notifications and getting upset that there weren’t more (even though you’d just checked them before you went out to smoke). Maybe you would have to start flashing your tits online if you wanted to make the real bucks.

You flipped your phone over and went to sleep, begging your brain to give you filthy gargoyle dreams.

Once dawn’s glow yanked you from your peaceful slumber, you’d forgotten all about why you’d been so sad. You forgot about Dan, or David (Darren?), whatever his name was. You hopped online and said hi to your early birds, fitting the headphones over your ears just to let them know you’d be back in a bit. Then, you had a quick shower, ducked out for half of a smoke, and got to work.

The day turned into night, and everything was great. The games were fun, chat was a riot, and you even got raided by one of your favorite mutuals. You ordered some takeout and video-chatted with some friends. You even hopped on the stream again for a double feature. All the darkness from the night before was lifted, and you felt like you might be alright. But, then, just as the sun was setting, you got a text.

donny-Hinge: hey babe. left my charger. can i come by in 15

you: sure

donny-Hinge: k thx

“Ugh!” You audibly exclaimed, forgetting you were still online.

Chat started pouring in with questions and asks about the text. Tell us! They exclaimed. What happened, momma?? They begged to know.

You thought about it for a minute, but you decided that your shitty love life was one thing you weren’t ready to own up to online, so you side-stepped,

“Forgot I had to take a friend to the airport. Gotta cut this short tonight, sorry. Love you guys! Don’t forget to live, laugh, love, like, share, sub!” You rolled your eyes at your own catchphrase and waved goodbye.

You flung down your headset and did a few soothing spins in your computer chair before deciding that you needed to kick this dude to the curb.

“What’s the sluttiest outfit I’ve got so this asshole knows what he’s missing?” You asked Mr. Vain who was sitting outside your bathroom window, looking bored.

“Coachella last year?” You dug around in the drawer and pulled out the too-short, can’t-wear-this-in-public slip dress, looking at Mr. Vain one last time before nodding, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

You wiggled into the fit, mangled up your hair into a careless rumpled mess, and threw on some eyeliner to top it all off. Then, you waited. You checked your phone. You waited again. You paced. Then, you had a smoke to try and calm your nerves.

You huddled next to Mr. Big’s giant forearm and looked up at his bearded jaws from below,

“Still not real, huh? I could really use a big, scary beast for some support right now. Why does breaking up with losers still feel so shitty? He doesn’t deserve me, right?”

Mr. Big said nothing. He loomed, and nothing more.

“Right,” you whispered, starting to worry about yourself now that you were carrying on multiple daily conversations with statues.

Your door buzzed. Dumbo was here for his charger.

You fixed yourself, checking your eyeliner for just the perfect amount of smudge, and then you cracked open the door. The man was there, looking a little too well-dressed, and he sauntered into your apartment without saying so much as a hello.

“Uh, hi,” you spat.

“Hey, sorry,” he frowned, looking around for the charger under your clothes pile, “Can’t stay. Gonna meet up with the boys at Six Hands tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling a little more than just put out.

“Ah, here it is,” he dragged the charger out from under your desk and wrapped it up.

“I don’t wanna see you again,” you blurted out.

He looked up at you, noticing you for the first time, eyeing your dress and your makeup, furrowing his brow,

“Why not? Didn’t you have fun last night?”

You didn’t like his sly tone,

“No, so just, lose my number, okay?”

“C’mon, baby. Don’t be like that,” he stepped into your space and put your hair behind your ear. You fucking hated when guys tucked your hair behind your ear.

You smacked his hand away,

“Don’t touch me. Just go.”

“Is that why you’re dressed like a fuckin’ slut? You gonna call some other guy up here?” His contempt filled the room, making your alarm bells clatter and peal inside of your head.

“No. Leave! Now.”

“Listen,” he took another step into your space, dragging his finger under the strap of your dress and purposefully letting it fall off of your shoulder, “How about you drop the attitude and let me hit it before I go out, and I’ll come back tonight and we can watch a movie.”

You used both hands to shove him away from you, hating how little he moved backwards,

“Fuck you! Get out of my house.”

“You don’t have to be such a bitch!” He shouted at you, grabbing you around the wrist and knocking you off balance.

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. His face became even paler than it already was, and he stared out of the window behind you. He scrambled to drop your wrist and bolted for the door, not even bothering to shut it behind him.

“Yeah! You shouted after him, fixing your shoulder strap, “Get the hell out and don’t come back!”

You shut the door and locked the top and bottom deadbolts, upset with yourself for how badly you were shaking.

“What an asshole,” you muttered under your breath as you turned around. Then, you looked up, and that’s when you saw him.

“Mr. Big?!”

The giant, hulking gargoyle that you sat by every night was standing, full height, right outside your window. He used his immense paw to open the window and stepped through it, staring right at you with unnaturally blue eyes. He was still not a human color, but at least he wasn’t made of stone. His flesh was textured, sort of scaled in a way, and hairline cracks that looked like scars covered him like a broken eggshell. His hair and beard were shaggy and brown, and even though he was enormous, he was graceful, tucking his black wings behind his back to keep from knocking over all of your shelves.

“Are you alright, love?” His voice came out like a roaring, tumbling sea, and yet, it was as gentle as a purr.

“I… This… You! You are! You’re… you’re a statue! How…” You backed away from him, and he did not pursue you. He simply stood there, focused on you, patiently letting you figure it out, “You’re Mr. Big, and you’re in my damn house!”

“I am John. We come when our mate calls to us.”

“What? John? No,” you sat on the bed, wrenching your eyes shut, “This isn’t happening. Fuck, I actually am out of my mind. I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford fucking gargoyle visions. Fuck!”

You heard the flutter of wings and your eyes darted up to see Mr. T and Mr. Bones squeezing themselves into your tiny home,

John nodded to them,

“This is Soap and Ghost. Your memories will return to you, my love,” he turned to address them, “Did you find him?”

Ghost let out a dark chuckle full of fire and brimstone,

“Aye, he screamed like a fuckin’ pussy.”

“Who?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

Soap answered you in a surprisingly smooth brogue,

“Your wee suitor, lass. Tried to run, but he couldnae get very far.”

“Did…” You felt your blood rush out of your body, “Did you kill him?”

Ghost, his skin a steely gray with black cracks running across his flesh, his wings a bony ash color and splotched with tears and scars, his eyes an impossible hazel shade, gleaming behind the huge skull mask, stalked over to you, crouching down to look at you closer, studying you. Then, he took his clawed hand and untucked the hair from behind your ear, lifting your locks to his fearsome muzzle to smell your shampoo. He smiled (you weren’t exactly sure if it was a smile or not), and said,

“Would you like me to? Because, right now, he’s hanging off the side of a fuckin’ tanker ship headed for the bloody south Pacific. He’d be easy to capture and –”

“No! No,” you shook your head, “Thank you. That’s… that is a great spot for him. Alive.”

“You must have questions, pet,” a fourth voice spoke over your shoulder, startling you and making you jump out of your skin, “Surely you must remember me; your Gaz, your favorite.”

It was Mr. Vain. The others gave him a glare for his comment, but he did have a way of stealing the show. His skin was a shimmering copper, and golden cracks cut through his flesh. His wings were an iridescent green patina, and his eyes were a deep brown. He was every bit as beautiful in real life as he’d been as a statue, and you had a hard time looking away from him.

“I’m…” You tried to ask something. Anything. You should have questions, right? Normal people would have questions. Finally, you whispered, “What is happening to me?”

John came to crouch beside you, his thick tail curling around his feet, tucking itself out of the way, and he dropped his voice into that deep purr of his,

“You called us here, love. You needed us, and we were awakened. We have listened to your struggles. For years we have kept you safe in this…” He looked around with a frown of disapproval, “... bloody meager estate, waiting for the night you would bring us back to this plane of existence to mate with you and take you home to claim your rightful place on the throne of Evenhold. Your people need you. We need you. You are the last hope for our kind.”

You listened to him and tried your best to keep a straight face,

“You have got to be fucking with me right now. This is not real. You are not real!”

To your shock, instead of doubling down, he looked hurt by your comments. His eyes peered down at you as if he wanted to make you see the truth, like he wanted to convince you of his words, but he held himself back.

Soap came over to you, his pale flesh gleaming like a pearl under the moonlight, the cracks of his skin a cerulean blue, and his wings fading from navy to black at the very tips,

“Bonnie, I ken how it sounds. But, you didnae meet your mother nor your father, aye?”

“No, I grew up with my Grandma Val–”

“Valeria, the Witch of the Four Winds,” Soap confirmed, sitting down beside Ghost, “She protected you until her death. So, you came here, to this city, and –”

“And this apartment… the deal was so good, I couldn’t pass it up,” your brain was reaching around in the dark, looking for the light. It was making your head spin.

“Did you never wonder how you could afford it, lass? Didnae you remember Darkhollow? The River Binn? Everhold Keep? We ran together as rooks through the halls, stealing burchfruit from the ta–”

John cut him off, his eyes studying you in the darkness,

“Enough. Sorcerer Cael stole her memories the same night he fuckin’ murdered the Emperor and the Empress. She knows nothing of home. But, we can help her remember.”

You reached out to him, touching his cheek in such a familiar way, and yet, experiencing it anew,

“How?”

“We will take you as our mate. Through our magic, you can use our memories to rebuild what you’ve lost,” John cupped your hand in his huge paw, bringing it to his fanged mouth, and kissing your palm reverently.

“We know that you have been…” Gaz smirked, “... disappointed by suitors in this realm. But, we will help you remember the kind of mate the Empress of Evenhold deserves.”

“Trust us, lass,” Soap lifted your chin up to look into your face, “We will set things right. We’ll take you home.”

Ghost crawled beside you on the bed, and the mattress dipped beneath his heavy frame,

“You are our guiding star, love. We’ll do whatever you ask of us. If you want us to leave, we fuckin’ will. Just say the word, and you’ll never see us again.”

At his oath, you felt something twist in your heart. No! That was wrong. You belonged together. These were your protectors. You needed them as much as they needed you.

“No. You belong with me,” you said, planting a soft kiss on the side of Ghost’s mask, “Help me remember.”

“We won’t be back here, love. Are you sure you’re ready to go?” John asked you, standing at full height.

The others stood with him, waiting for your word.

You thought about checking your phone, or putting an away message up on your profiles, but what would be the reason? If you wouldn’t be back here, you’d just disappear. You’d fade away from memory just like any other streamer who logged on for the last time and never came back. It happened all the time. Your parents were dead, you didn’t have any family, and your friend would be okay without you. What was keeping you here?

“Let me wash my face, and then we’ll go,” you said, ducking into the bathroom to braid your hair out of your face and wash the eyeliner off of your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long while, you enjoyed looking at the person that you saw. You looked brave. You looked ready. You looked like you were about to have the ride of your fuckin’ life.

You slid an extra hair tie around your wrist and met the gargoyle army in your bedroom.

“Okay, I’m ready for the magic mating ritual, I think. Do you wanna do it here, or…”

“No, love,” John chuckled warmly, “We’ll take you to the portal. Your power will ignite the beacon.”

“Where is that?” You asked, feeling a little deflated.

“Far from here. C’mon, love. Need to beat the sun,” John grabbed your waist and held you against his chest. He wrapped his tail around your body protectively, and you watched in horror as the other three dove through the window, spreading their wings out over the midnight fog.

“Oh, fuck. Are we flying there? Holy shit! Wait, wait, wait…��

The next thing you knew, you were sailing through the air, gliding down from your bedroom window and out into the night sky.

“It’s alright, love. Hold onto me,” John chuckled, amused by your panicked response.

“Fuck!” You whispered, burying yourself in John’s broad chest, clutching at his waist as hard as you could.

You could feel the powerful beat of his wings as he gained altitude, the rush of wind subsiding when you emerged above the clouds, and the moon looked as if it hung close enough for you to grab it, bright and glowing in the black sky.

You were breathing in rushed gasps, and you didn’t know if you should laugh or cry. John sensed your distress, and he held you tighter against his warm body.

“Shh,” he pet you gently, and you felt his claws trace delicate lines down your back. For some reason, it lulled you into a dazed state, and you thought you might pass out, “Sleep, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”

A few more minutes went by, and with each delicate pass of his claws, you watched the stars scatter above you, more and more of them coming into your view as you escaped from the city, and you closed your eyes and let your guardian take you away with him.

When you awoke, you were still flying with John, but you were descending on a small hilltop.

“Where are we?” You asked in a low voice.

John pointed below,

“The portal is here. I’ve sent the lads on ahead to prepare the ritual. We won’t beat the dawn unless we hurry.”

“What happens at dawn?”

“We turn to stone. You’ll be left unprotected.”

“Is that what these are?” You asked, tracing the cracked lines in his skin, “From where you broke free?”

“Yes,” John nodded, “We wear them with fuckin’ pride, love. We’re soldiers. It is our duty and our right to be your guardians.”

“In the… At home, do you turn to stone in the sunlight?”

He paused, and you wished you could hear his thoughts, but after a few moments he said,

“No, only here.”

Something about his answer saddened you. You wanted to wipe all of that pain away from his face. You needed to see him in the light of day. To see him happy. You felt so strongly about it, and it made you wish that you had called for him sooner.

“Could you hear me when you were frozen?”

“Yes, love,” he smiled, swooping his wings to land with you on the soft grass, “Every word.”

He placed you down carefully, and as he did, he bent forward, wrapped his wings around you, and kissed you. You leaned into his touch, enveloped in his dark embrace, feeling the bristle of his beard and the fullness of his lips. He tasted like holiday spices and raw honey. His sweetness and heat blending together on your tongue and making you dizzy with want.

“Tryin’ to get a head start, Captain?” Gaz’s voice rang out over your shoulder.

You were unfurled from John’s wings and released from his kiss, but he kept a possessive hand around your waist.

“Captain?” You turned to ask him what that meant.

“We’re soldiers, remember? I’m the Captain of the Imperial Guard. My two sergeants,” he pointed to Gaz and Soap, “and my lieutenant,” he nodded to Ghost.

“C’mere, love,” Ghost pulled you away from John and brought you over to the entrance of a large cave.

The mouth of the cave was hidden behind vines and overgrowth, but you could barely make out the ancient carvings that were etched into the side of the round entrance.

“This is the portal, lass. Your magic opens the door, and we can go home.”

“I don’t know how to do magic,” you looked at him for help.

“We’ll show you. Let us help you remember, love,” John purred darkly behind you, joining you on the side opposite Ghost, taking your hand and guiding you into the cave.

Once inside, you saw a large, flat altar, carved with runes and symbols, and all along the back wall of the cave were huge scenes of war and destruction, patterned in gold and silver and bronze etchings. In the images, you saw hordes of gargoyles fighting against an evil wizard who carried a long staff and cast fiery spells across villages and castles, destroying everything in his path.

But, you couldn’t dwell on the images for long. Your warriors had other plans. John guided you to his arms once more, kissing you chastely this time, before untying his loincloth and revealing his unbelievable cock.

When he saw the look on your face, his mouth stretched into a smug grin, and he pumped his wings, proudly beating them once and then twice to stir the air in the large cave, purring deep inside his chest.

His dick wasn’t just large. It was impossible. There was no way that thing was going to fit inside of you without some sort of feat of strength. As the others disrobed, standing beside their leader, you saw how much of a challenge this venture truly was.

Their cockheads were covered in layers of foreskin that lay across their head like the petals of a flower. They were thin and smooth, and it made the tip of their dick look like the head of a blooming rose. John had more petals than the others, while Gaz had only three or four, but his were large, like a drooping magnolia, hiding the fist-sized glans underneath.

The shaft of John’s cock was studded with smooth, marble-like protrusions, which, as he rubbed his hand over them, swelled and leaked, producing his own lubricant for him as he worked his phallus to a high, glossy shine. On the underside of the body, two soft bands of flesh hung down like lips on a mouth, creating a flared feature along the base of his cock.

At the root of his shaft, John had a bulging, pulsing knot. It looked like it was throbbing with its own heartbeat, and it wrapped itself around his entire girthy base, making your mouth water.

Their physiology was as unique as it was inhuman. Gaz only had three marble protrusions, none of the soft bands on his undercarriage, but a hefty, engorged knot. Ghost’s cock was board-straight, covered in a chaotic mess of marble bumps, making his whole prick drip and drool onto the cave floor without him even needing to touch it.

Soap was the only one who had pulled his petals down over his blunt cockhead to reveal it to you. It was bright pink and swollen, looking every bit like a smooth, silky peach. The large slit in the center held a bead of precome, ready to be smeared across either of your lips. His shaft was curved like a bow, and you noticed that the flared flesh at his base looked like a plush bed of fox coral, bending and furling like fine lace on the hem of a dress.

“Our mate is pleased,” Gaz noted, sniffing the air and licking his fangs with a skillful tongue.

You made your way over to John, eyeing Gaz as he tugged on his giant ballsack, fondling his heavy pearls and comforting himself as he admired you. John was breathing hard, his belly filling with air, his rolling purr growing louder as you got closer to him.

You knelt on the soft dirt floor of the cave and began to lick and suck at the knot on the base of John’s cock. He growled, flapping his wings with excitement,

“No, love,” he peered down at you, “Let us care for you.”

“I want to taste you,” you looked at the other beasts circling around you, casting long shadows over you with the shuddering wings, “All of you.”

“Your wish is our command, Empress,” Ghost snarled, fisting his cock in his claws and presenting it to you like a treat.

You used both of your hands to rub his shaft, letting his silky lube collect in your palms and drip down your wrists. You began prying his soft petals apart with the tip of your tongue, discovering how sensitive they were. By the time you found his head, he was drooling wet for you, filling the center of his flower with clear, shining precome. You drank from him, sucking the sticky fluid like nectar from a buttercup, sighing when you found it sweet.

John chuffed, impatient with his lieutenant for cutting the line, and you looked up at him and smiled, showing him your tongue as it dripped with Ghost’s wet promises. Then, you brought your attention back to your biggest guardian, taking care to use both hands to roll the flesh of his shaft up and down the hefty appendage. You let your thumb dip into his furled folds that ran along his base, and he hissed, instinctively using his paw to cradle the back of your head and encourage you further.

You obeyed his silent command, using your lips to kiss inside of his crown of closed petals, slurping and drinking the sweet gift you discovered inside. As you kissed his cockhead, the fleshy flower surrounding his tip tickled your lips and nose and chin, spreading their honey over your whole face, coating you in him and his heady scent.

Gaz reached down to touch your breast inside your dress, his huge claws tickling over the smoothness of your skin, making you gasp.

“So fuckin’ bonnie, innit she?” Soap admired you, taking position on the other side to fondle and feel your other heavy teat, using his claws to draw aching spirals all the way up to your nipple.

You were fully suckling on John’s wide head, now. He was pouring clear, shining precome down your throat, and you were swallowing it into your belly as if it were his come. Then, Gaz took you from him, guiding your chin over to his hanging prick, smiling at you as you nuzzled it, handsfree, into your lips. His wide petals covered most of your face, spreading his slick over your cheeks and down your throat, sticking themselves to your skin. Then, Johnny took your hand and held it in his own, making you rub his curved length until he was trembling for you. You took turns sucking from them both, realizing that the more you sucked, the more delicious fluid they made.

John petted your hair lovingly, drawing your attention away from his soldiers and back to him. You looked into his glowing blue eyes, mesmerized by his magic, and gave him your best doe-eyed face, hoping your hunter would take his shot.

“The sun is nearly here, Empress. There will be plenty of nights to play together ahead of us, but we must open the portal.”

You rose to your feet, shocked by how small you were compared to the monsters that surrounded you, and let John lead you to the altar. He lifted you up and knelt down in front of you, using his long, blue tongue to lick his way up the side of your thigh. When he found your heat, his chest shook with a stifled roar, and he grabbed your hips in his paws to crush you to his face. Ghost stood beside him, peeling off your black slip dress to make you naked, and he and Gaz held your legs wide for their captain. Soap crawled upon the altar to feed his tongue into your mouth, fucking your throat in long, gentle licks just as John stuffed his into your warm pussy.

Ghost and Gaz suckled from your breasts, pulling and plucking at your nipples in deep, vacuumed mouthfuls, making you feel like you were being eaten alive from the inside and the outside of your whole body. Your orgasm hit your body before your mind registered that you were coming. You jerked, arching your back and screaming out from the base of your throat, begging for mercy.

Your gargoyles pet you with their claws in that same, somnolent way that John had while you were flying, and you felt yourself relax into your orgasm, riding it out in long, suffocating waves.

“You are so tight, love,” John looked up from his eating, his eyes full of worry, “We’ll try to be gentle with you, but you will need many nights of training before you can carry our rooks. Your body will learn from us, in time. For now, your memories are all that matter.”

He stood, and the other gargoyles held you tightly, supporting you on the altar. John huffed out a long breath, spread his wings wide, and stepped forward to mount you.

You watched his cock’s petals as they collided with your own, spreading himself all over you like a brush full of paint. He focused on your hole, smearing his hot precome as generously as he could. Then, he began to press forward.

“Holy fuck! I can’t take it! I can’t… John… it’s not… mngh! Ohhhh…” You cried out in agony and then melted into a quiet bliss.

As he entered you, the other three pet you with their paws, soothing you and helping you catch your breath.

Then, when you took his entire head, he rested at your entrance, waiting for you to come back around.

“John, what the fuck? I’m not built for your dick. How…?” You looked up at him, pleading for some relief.

“You’re doing so good for us, love,” Gaz licked and kissed your neck and breast, suckling on you to calm you down.

“You can take him,” Ghost held your hand, “His musk will open you up for us. Look at how it’s swelling your pussy, sweetheart.”

You looked down at yourself, and you saw that Ghost was right. Your pussy was creamy and puffy, soaking in John’s fluids, his musk, and it was helping you relax for him. John stepped forward, slipping in another inch or so, fitting his bent petals through your entrance. Then, with each grueling thrust, you felt the line of marble nodes press against your walls, secreting their lubricant all over your walls and making you drip onto the altar.

“So good for me,” John groaned, holding your breasts in his hands, stealing them away from Gaz and Soap, squeezing them hard enough to leave pinprick marks with his talons.

“Anhh– John! I’m…”

“Yes, come again, love. Come for me, remember me…”

Your mind was flung through space and time, spinning and feeding you a chaotic string of memories that didn’t seem like your own. You tasted food and drink you’d never tried, you sang songs you didn’t know, ran full speed across fields full of flowers you’d never smelled. It was maddening, watching you live a life you’d never had. Then, there they were, your four gargoyles, pledging their loyalty to you and your parents, vowing to be your protectors. But, just as your heart filled with hope, there was a great black fire that roared through the halls of your keep, burning the people you loved, destroying the peace in your realm. The Dark Sorcerer, Cael.

John was pounding away at your body now, and you were shivering from the heightened pleasure. How long had you been out? Your belly felt full of him, and you could see the outline of his shaft as he shoved himself through you, fucking you nearly up into your ribs. You reached down and cradled him outside of your belly, and he moaned from your touch, his heavy balls slapping against your ass in a punishing, deafening rhythm.

Then, you saw John beat his wings again, fighting with his own pleasure. He speared you fully, sealing himself inside of you, and it was at that point that you felt the curling, pulsing pressure of his knot.

“John… I’m not… I can’t…” You could barely keep your eyes open.

He gathered you up in his arms, wrapping you tight to his chest, and hugged you to his scalding, scaled flesh. When he breathed against you, his chest filled your space, and you could feel the tremors racking his body. He folded his wings around you, enclosing you in his protective embrace, hiding you in his darkness, and lowered you with his steady, inhuman power onto his throbbing knot.

Your scream was silent as your breath caught in your throat. You’d been shattered, thrown with supernatural might into a bursting orgasm, forced to come hard onto his swollen, beating shaft.

He was coming, too, and it filled your walls, making your belly hang heavy with fertile, gargoyle seed. John roared, thrusting himself up into you to grind his knot within your hole, churning his cream within you, and soaking your womb in his come.

John sighed, bending his neck to kiss your open mouth, petting you with his paws, rubbing his cock through your abdomen with his thumbs. His come moved inside of you as he did so, and you were so stuffed with his hot spend, the moment he began to unseal himself, it sprayed out of you and onto his cock, legs, and the floor of the chamber, turning the dirt to mud. You were gaping wide, dripping in his come, and trembling from brain-breaking orgasms. He didn’t look much better. He was spent, sitting on the ground of the cave, breathing hard and fast.

But, you couldn’t think about aftercare. Ghost took his place as soon as it was available, stepping through the muddy, semen-soaked floor without so much as a second glance. His dick was covered in his musk and he used it to rub it all over your clit, arching his back to paint your nipples with it as well, painting long lines of his scent all over your chest, belly, and legs. Satisfied, he notched himself at your entrance and spread your walls wide again, guiding himself deep inside of you.

You hissed in sweet agony, and he smiled down at you knowingly,

“You’re taking me so well. My tight little quim. So perfect. How I missed you, lover.”

John was standing again, and he came to help Ghost hold you in place as he pounded himself into you with long, agonizing strokes. You were glad he was there because your whole body was limp. You hung off the side of the pedestal like a ragdoll, letting Ghost rail himself into you, his studded shaft rolling orgasm after orgasm through your nerves, forcing you to come one after the other, just an endless parade of pleasure. Your mouth was open, and Gaz was suckling on your lips and tongue while Soap devoured your breasts, pinching and biting and slurping to his heart’s content.

John put his paw on your belly, feeling how Simon was protruding out of your flesh, heavy and built to last, His knot smaller but harder than John’s.

“Remember, love. C’mon, try to reach deeper,” you keened, feeling hot tears rush out of your eyes and down your cheeks as Gaz devoured your tongue. Then, you were transported again, back to your dear Evenhold. You were locked in a battle, controlling your magic and trying to crack a portal. You didn’t have a clear destination, but you found one all the same. Finally, your opponent, Cael, made a misstep. He tried to cast a sealing spell on you, but you deflected it, casting it on your devoted warriors instead, watching them tumble into the portal, wrought in dark stone. You felt yourself scream, and you killed the sorcerer, leaping into the portal to save the heroes you loved.

But, something had gone wrong. Time, fickle and flowing, warped itself, wrapping around your magic and flinging you back through time. You were a child again, and you were alone.

The look of despair on your face told Ghost everything he needed to know,

“She remembers. It’s working. Fuck! Take all of me, love. Come back to us!”

He slammed his knot inside of you and stretched his wings out wide and straight, his whole body vibrating with his energy, the enormous cock inside your core jerked and drooled come all over your walls, drowning itself in your tight, swollen hole.

When he popped his knot out of you, he held it to your pussy like a gate, encouraging the come he’d left behind to settle in your belly instead of spilling onto the ground. It worked poorly; there was just too much of it, but you felt fuller than before, and you knew your womb was carrying their seed deep within you.

“Hurry, Soap,” John stretched his claws, showing his discomfort, “Dawn.”

Soap took his place between your legs and struggled with his tip. You were pliant and soft for him, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Turn her,” he grunted, and your protectors followed his command, flipping your body over so that you could be on all fours for him.

He spread his musk over your hole, using his paws and cock in unison, trying his best to prepare you for his cock’s sinister curve, but it was no use.

“Just… take me, Soap. Please… I need to know…” You whined, just under your breath, preparing yourself for the ache of being stretched by him.

“Bonnie, I willnae hurt you. Give me a moment t–”

“Now,” you insisted, spreading yourself wide for him, “It has to be now.”

He sighed, and he put his wings around you instinctively, wanting to protect you from the pain and not knowing how. Soap slipped forward, and his cockhead caught in your inner ring of muscles, stuck, oozing its precome into your hole. He was afraid to press forward, unwilling to injure his mate, fearful of what he might do to you.

So, you fucked him. You leaned back, pressing your cunt down onto his tip, feeling every hard inch as you did so, prying yourself open like a stone fruit, using his prick to cleave your body. Thankfully, he was not as thick as John nor as long as Ghost, but he was a challenge for the entire ride. Every single thrust felt like a damn marathon, and he was shaped in such a way that your delicate g-spot was bullied into a wet, body-shaking submission.

You never stopped coming on Soap, but you didn’t remember starting either. He erased your mind and filled it with him, only him, and you slipped into his memories as easily as a warm bath, letting him drown you in his slick affection.

You saw yourself as a child, running through the keep, chasing Soap, a mischievous rook, letting him fly you onto the feast table to steal fruits and berries from the bowls, screeching as the cooks chased you from them, laughing and tumbling and rolling into the garden where you shared them together, ripping off ripe, sweet lobes, and fighting over the last bites.

Then, he was a young man. Younger than he was now, but every bit as handsome. None of his blue cracks were there to mar his pearlescent skin, and you marveled at his beauty. He flew with you to your secret spot, high in the white, chalk cliffs of Evenhold, overlooking the sea. He said nothing, but you understood everything in that moment.

The crash of the waves mimicked his rough fucking, and the lightning strike of another pleasure-filled crescendo slammed you back to the present, letting you watch him groan and stretch and fly with your body, pulling you from the altar into the air, clutching you around your throat and belly with his long tail in a deep embrace, trapping you on his knot and using his hands to milk himself into you, squeezing his root like a summer fruit, giving you every last drop.

His wings faltered, and his body went limp, and he lay you on the altar as gently as he could before collapsing on the ground of the cave, eyes shut and trembling.

Gaz mounted you, grabbing your hips and dragging you toward him. You looked down as he held your legs open, using his tail to protect your head from the rough platform. Then, he slipped into you with a gentleness you were not expecting due to his size. You thought you had finally been stretched to the point of comfort, worried about the state of yourself, but it was just an illusion. Once he impaled you past his enormous head, the petals folded back and his fat prick began to struggle within you. But, unlike Soap, he did not hold himself back. He knew you were close to the answer, and he needed to give it to you.

You both stared down at your swollen belly, full of come and beginning to fill with his shape. Gaz took your hand and placed it just above your womb, and moaned, grunting at you,

“Hold me here, love. Feel me… here…”

You tried to obey, but doing so made all of the sensations inside of you that much more intense. You could feel every petal, every ridge, every slippery marble node, the furl of his flesh and the impossibly thick length of his phallus, all of it working inside of you, right below your palm.

“Press…” He begged, his brown eyes soft and pleading.

So, you did, and you made yourself start to come. It was too beautiful of a feeling. You could sense every twitch and pulse and slip of his cock inside of you, feeling it with your walls as if you would your hands, squeezing him within you like a hilt to its blade, wielding him like a weapon.

You tipped over the edge, falling into another dream, but this time, it was a place you recognized. You were with Valeria, young again, just a child, and you watched her close the portal, making the runes with her hands, and sealing off the world of Darmoch, Evenhold, and everything you’d ever known.

Then, she cast a spell over your guardians, releasing them from their stone prisons, but at a price. Their skin splintered and cracked, and the stone cut awful shapes in their flesh, burning them with permanent scars. You wanted to help them, but you were slowly forgetting their faces. Things were fading away, and Valeria was the only one who knew how to help you.

You opened your eyes, clutching Gaz’s long dick within you in both of your hands, massaging him with deep affection and adoration. You looked up at him and said,

“I remember everything.”

He smiled, leaning forward to kiss your mouth, nuzzling your nose with his own snout, minding his tusks and groaning for you,

“Mmm, of course you do, my love. I knew you would.”

Gaz took a sharp breath and rolled his knot into you, emptying himself inside like the others, making you warm, full, and knowing the most perfect love. It was written all over your soul, your promise to them, their vow to you, the ancient oath to protect you and to follow your command until the end of days.

When he pulled away, stumbling back and catching himself on the cave wall, you knew your destiny. You rose to your feet, ignoring the aches of your humanity, casting aside your doubt. You pulled your guardians close to you, putting their hands on your arms and shoulders, and just as the pink dawn began to crest over the horizon, you said,

“Hold on to me. We’re going home.”

Don't look at me like that. Y'all knew I was out of my mind before you even started reading this fic. C'mon, now.

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annievrse · 11 months ago

Text

falling foolishly

satoru x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb

"they're such children," shoko rolled her eyes, kicking a piece of ice away from her foot. you pursed your lips as you watched satoru throw another snowball at suguru, the latter cackling at the feeling of it hitting his bare neck.

satoru stumbled over as he gathered another handful of snow, eyes on suguru as he did the same on the other side of the path. the footpath was slippery under your feet, and the path lights above you glowed a warm yellow over the snow-covered shrubbery.

the wind blew through you and you squeezed your eyes shut at the night air. fisting your hands in your jacket pockets, you sniffled, your cheeks icy and toes numb. shoko sighed and shook her head at the boys.

"bitch!" satoru exclaimed, losing his footing before lobbing a handful of snow that landed nowhere near suguru.

"ok! i'm done. finished. stop."

"booooo!" satoru yelled, but he didn't lean down and continued walking straight. "i won, though. you didn't even hit me."

suguru grumbled something unintelligible but dug his hands in his pockets and shouldered his best friend.

"thank god," shoko mumbled. "if i had to take one of them to the hospital again i was going to kill them."

you snickered, yet you couldn't help but slow your steps and lean down discreetly. your gloveless fingers burned with pain at the sudden coldness, but that didn't deter you from making a perfect ball.

shoko noticed you weren't beside her anymore and glanced over her shoulder. "you're annoying too, you know."

you grinned, silently making your way back to her side. "how much do you think he'll whine if i hit him?"

shoko barked a laugh and nodded. "do it. he needs his ego bruised a bit."

so, you raised your arm and aimed the snowball at the white-haired boy. a giggle slipped past your lips and you threw it.

"bullseye!" shoko yelled, her laughter echoing through the park's darkness.

satoru stopped walking and placed his hand in his hair. your jaw was still open, falling when it had hit him square in the back of his head.

he spun around, finger pointed at you. "i knew it was you. you're gonna get it," and then he started running toward you.

suguru held his chest as he chuckled and moved next to shoko as they watched satoru bend down to wrap his arms around your thighs and throw you over his shoulder.

"toru!" you squealed, your arms flailing to try and grasp onto his torso. you struggled to breathe as you laughed before you felt yourself being pulled backwards.

next thing you knew, snow surrounded you as he put you into a pile of it. satoru threw himself on top of you, his cheeks were red from the cold.

"naughty. looks like you're not getting that really pretty necklace santa has in his sack for you."

"he'll give it to me," you tried to smother your smile by biting your lip, hands on satoru's neck.

"how can you be so sure?" he teased, fingers dancing under your jacket. "after this incredibly disrespectful action against me?"

your eyes flickered to his lips. "because he loves me too much."

satoru’s eyes widened and he moved his lips into a pout. "wowww, so santa’s your new man, huh? isn’t he a little old?"

you smacked his shoulder and laughed, hands running over his wet hair.

"boo hoo! you're just upset you got hit with a snowball!" shoko called from further up the path, suguru beside her.

rolling his eyes, satoru climbed off you and pulled you up with him. "are you happy now? i'm getting bullied."

you shook your head, ignoring him while you leaned up to slant your lips over his.

he smiled against your mouth and circled one arm around your waist, the other snaking around your neck. you felt yourself going sideways, shoes slipping slightly as satoru dipped you.

"let me take a photo," you barely heard suguru over the rushing in your ears when satoru pulled his lips away from yours with a bright grin.

#a christmas blurb <3 #written without editing i apologise babies #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #— ann writes!

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cameronluvr · 5 months ago

Text

MY GIRL — dark!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: rafe tracks your location and follows you to the beach, watching you and your friends from a fair distance. he butts in once he sees you and jj flirting, resulting in arguments and rafe forcing you home to fuck you.

warnings: 18+ MDNI ➾ consumption of alcohol, underage drinking, stalking, arguing, cussing, toxic + abusive relationship, manipulation, smut, noncon, SA, forced sex, p in v, toxic!rafe, dark!rafe, crying, rafe ignoring safe word, cheating accusations, death threats, (safe word is “red”)

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊

𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ᥫ᭡

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 🍓

like sarah and kiara, you were born a kook who chose to be a pogue, and a lot of people despised you for it, especially your boyfriend rafe. the two of you had spent the past hour arguing over you wanting to go hang out with the pogues, but he hated them and wanted you to hate them too.

the argument resulted in doors slamming and you storming off. you left rafe’s house and headed straight to the beach where you were planning on meeting your friends, regardless of rafe’s opinion. you walked all the way there and headed onto the sand, spotting them in the distance.

“hey guys,” you raise your voice as you approach them, making them all turn their heads to face you. each of them greeted you with smiles on their faces, and sarah with a hug. you sat down next to her and joined the circle they’d made around the campfire. with evening approaching, the sunset was glowing a radiant pink and golden color, which was perfect for the endless amount of selfies with sarah and kiara.

“so, ya finally made it” jj said as you were making yourself comfortable on the ground. “yep. who do you think tried to stop me?” you ask with a tint of sarcasm in your voice, knowing they all already know the obvious answer. “hm. did he give you the kooks versus pogues talk again?” john b asks, seeing you snicker and nod in response. “when doesn’t he? you guys are just a pile of dirty island trash, okay?” you joke, reciting your boyfriends words. “if that’s what we are, then that’s what you are, too” john b jokes back, raising his beer bottle before having a swig.

“that’s what i tried telling him” you laugh, motioning for him to toss you a bottle, too, since everyone else had one. he grabs one from the crate and tosses it over, making you catch it and crack it open to take a sip. “yea’, well, fuck him, he’s an asshole” kiara shrugs, with each of them simultaneously agreeing with her.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

“girls, you wanna go for a swim?” kie asks after you all drank, talked and laughed together for a while. “hell yeah” sarah says, standing up and pulling you up with her. you all begin stripping your clothes off to reveal your bikinis underneath. “what about us?” pope asks. “girls only, sorry” kie says, blowing a kiss to him before the three of you start running down to the ocean. “bitches” jj jokes, making pope and john b laugh. the three of them stayed sitting around the fire drinking and listening to music whilst keeping a brief eye on you girls.

as you and the girls made it to the water, you all dive in and splash around, laughing and having fun with each other, all while being completely unbeknownst to the other pair of eyes watching you, eyes that weren’t from a pogue… rafe had tracked your location on your phone and followed you to the beach, where you didn’t tell him you were going. he stayed a far distance back to make sure nobody could see him, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the railing in front of him, standing in front of his parked car with his gaze completely fixated on you.

he watched your every movement, taking in every little detail he could see before his attention quickly diverts to the three pogue boys making their way down to the water, too. seeing them made his fist ball up with rage, but he kept his cool for now.

the boys ran and dived into the water, purposely splashing you girls. “hey!” kiara yells over the sounds of their loud laughter, “you weren’t invited” sarah adds, causing john b to rush over to her and wrap his arms around her, scooping her up bridal style before throwing her down into the water, completely submerged.

you all laugh as she gets back up and gasps, grabbing her boyfriend in a headlock before jumping on him. the pair start to play fight, which made kiara giggle as she had an idea. she splashed the water and aimed it in pope’s direction, which made him start a water fight with her, splashing each other back and forth. you and jj laugh as you move away from the scene together, swimming further out into the ocean.

rafe watched every second. seeing you both swim away together made him furious, but he still waited. “jj, help” you laugh as he turns around in the water to grab your hand, pulling you out of the splashing waves. “thanks” you giggle, not letting go of his hand. you stayed holding it under the water as he pulled you along, the two of you swimming around them to make it back to the shore.

as you two walk out of the water and onto the sand, your hands were still grasping each others, but neither of you thought anything of it, it was platonic. he was helping you. but rafe saw and thought differently… that’s when he decided he had enough and tossed his cigarette aside, storming down the steps to the beach to approach you.

you and jj made it back to the campfire where you were just about to pick up your clothes from the ground, but a rough grip on your wrist stops you. it was getting dark now, so neither you or jj even saw rafe approaching. “what’re you doing?” rafe firmly asks, making you gasp. “i— what are you doing here?” you raise your eyebrows, your voice striking with fear.

“no, what are you doing here?” rafe asks in a demanding tone, his grip on your wrist getting tighter as you try to yank yourself out of it. “rafe, man—” jj tries to get involved, but rafe cuts him off. “nah, man, ‘the fuck you gettin’ so close to my girl for, huh?” rafe harshly drops your arm to take a step closer to jj. by this point, the rest of the pogues in the water had noticed what was happening, and quickly got out to head over.

“rafe—” you say,

“shut the fuck up, you slut” rafe snaps, making you flinch before he grabs jj’s collar to pull him closer. “hey, hey!” john b is quick to interrupt as he runs over to stand in between rafe and jj, making rafe drop his collar and shove john b back. “rafe what the actual fuck are y—” sarah shouts, “shut the hell up, sar. y/n, come on, get your fuckin’ things and lets go” rafe demands, turning to face you as you don’t hesitate to pick up your clothes and quickly shove them back on out of fear of what he’d do if you didn’t.

“she ain’t going anywhere” jj steps forward, receiving glances from sarah and kiara who are telling him to shut up with only their eyes, not wanting them to break out in a fight. “yeah? says who, big guy?” rafe laughs to mock him, but is cut off by jj shoving him back by his chest. john b and pope quickly grab jj and rafe to separate them, not allowing them to fight for your sake.

“keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself, maybank, and not on my fuckin’ girlfriend” rafe threatens, trying to pull out of john b’s grip but it only makes him hold him tighter. “she’d probably prefer my hands on her anyway” jj laughs, seeing rafe break out of john b’s grip and launch over to jj, actually hitting him this time. the other two boys separate them once again, this time with the help of sarah and kiara.

“stop it, rafe, just come on” you say to him, pointing in the other direction. you didn’t want to go with him, but you know this is the only way he’ll stop tormenting your friends. he shoves pope away from him and grabs your arm, roughly pulling you away from them all. “ow” you say, but he grips you harder, not caring for the pain he’s causing you.

“do we do something?” kie asks, worried about you. “i don’t know—” john b sighs. “just— let them argue it out. there’s no point in stopping him” sarah sighs, knowing how abusive and psychotic her brother can be when he’s angry. the pogues watch as you get dragged away by your boyfriend, bickering back and forth with your voices quietening the further you walk away.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

rafe opens the passenger door for you, shoving you in and slamming it shut. “…thank you?” you sarcastically mumble under your breath as he walks around to the other side of the car, getting in the drivers seat. “what the fuck were you thinkin’? holding his hand, laughing and giggling with him, are you fuckin’ serious?” rafe turns to look at you while raising his voice.

“i’m sorry, rafe, i didn’t mean anything by it he’s just my friend—”

“he’s just your friend. right, sure, nothin’ to worry about then” he shakes his head, pulling a sarcastic face. “oh my god” you sigh. “runnin’ around in your bikini with him, too? when i fuckin’ told you enough times to stay the fuck away from those asshole pogues” he yells, making you flinch. “maybe you’re the asshole.” you look out the window to avoid making eye contact knowing he wouldn’t find your comment amusing. and he didn’t. his hand quickly grabs your jaw, forcing you to face him.

“what did you just fucking say to me?” his eyes turn dark as he forces you to stare into them, his fingertips digging into your cheeks as his grip on your jaw is immense. “nothing, i’m sorry…” you apologize even though you don’t mean it. he is an asshole, you meant every bad word you’d ever said and thought about him. “you’re sorry?” he laughs which humiliated you a bit. “you weren’t sorry until i caught you. i told you not to go out with them, and what did you do? huh?” he asks, yelling the last word and squeezing your face harder to force an answer out of you, “what did you do?”

“i— i went out with them…” you answer fearfully. you were fierce and always argued back to him, but he terrified you when he got aggressive. “exactly. and you know how i feel about you wearing that slutty shit around guys, especially your fuckin’ swimsuit.” he reminds you of the things he’s told you before, before harshly shoving your face away to let go of you, making your head hit the window briefly. “ow” you whine, holding your hand on your head as rafe put the car into drive.

“quit bitchin’. you wanna act like a fuckin’ whore? that’s fine. i’ll treat you like one.” he says, grinning as he glances at the look on your face, there was nothing he loved more than seeing how afraid of him you were.

he drove back to his house, with you silently crying in the passenger seat for the whole ride, and him telling you to ‘shut up’ and the classic ‘i’ll give you something to cry about’. upon arriving at tannyhill, rafe parks the car and gets out, watching as you stayed seated, not wanting to get out. he sighs loudly and rolls his eyes before walking around to your side, swinging the door open and dragging you out.

“get off of me” you shove him back, but he grabs your throat right there in the driveway. “if you give me any more lip i swear to fuckin’ god…” he warns you, not gripping hard enough to choke you but enough to hurt you. “i said sorry, okay? what do you want from me?” you manage to rip his hand away from your throat, shoving him back to defend yourself, but he doesn’t like when you do that, he prefers when you’re helpless and afraid…

“sorry ain’t gonna cut it. you know how much i hate those fuckin scum—”

“stop calling them scum! stop belittling them just because they’re pogues. who the fuck cares?” you argue, not aware of any consequences at the time.

“oh, so now you’re defending them? you’re a pogue now, are you?” he laughs to mock your choice of friends, he always did humiliate them and put them down for his own liking. “yeah, maybe i am. and i’d rather be with them than you” you yell, turning around to storm off again but he grabs your arm and yanks you back.

“get off!” you try to fight him but he’s fed up of you, needing to teach you a lesson. “shut the fuck up” he says, dragging you into the house and upstairs. the two of you fight and argue all the way to his bedroom, which is completely normal for anyone in his house to hear.

“stop it—”

“you fuckin’ stop it”

both of you bicker before rafe pushes you into his bedroom before entering and slamming the door shut behind him. “now what, huh?” you yell at him. “don’t act so cocky now, you wanna act like a whore? dress like one? cmon, take your clothes off, i’ll treat you like the real fuckin’ whore you are” he says with a smirk, watching you laugh in response.

“no” you shake your head, your grin slowly fading when you see the dead serious look on his face. “rafe, no.” you frown, attempting to walk past him to get out of his room but he stopped you and pushed you back, reaching his hand over to lock the door.

“i’m bein’ serious, take your clothes off” he says, still smirking. “no, get away from me” you say, shaking your head and slowly walking backwards as he takes multiple steps forward. “what’s the matter? you were fine acting like a slut for jj, what’s wrong with me?” he asks, his tone dark and scary, his voice oddly calm but terrifying.

“rafe, i’m sorry, okay? i said sorry—”

“shh” he cuts you off, standing right in front of you as the only thing between you is him and his bed, he places his finger on your lip to shush you. “i don’t care. take them off” he says, looking back and forth into each of your eyes with a dark smile.

“i… i don’t want to…” you hesitate to say, innocently and vulnerably as your voice turns weak, he is actually starting to scare you now. “you don’t want to? aww. that’s too bad, i guess i’ll just do it myself” he pretends to sympathize before laughing and quickly reaching down to pull your skirt down, but you try to stop him.

“don’t make it hard, this is your fault” he says, roughly pushing you down onto the bed where he restrains you, forcing your skirt down and off your legs, throwing it on the floor. “rafe, stop” you try to plead with him but he ignores you, immediately reaching down to pull your top and damp bikini off too before gripping your waist and forcefully flipping you over onto your stomach. “i’m being serious, rafe, actually stop…” you try to show him how serious you are, but he doesn’t care.

“huh. i bet if jj asked you to take your clothes off, you’d listen to him, wouldn’t you?” he asks, pulling you up on all yours and gripping both sides of your bikini bottoms, roughly pulling them down and off your feet. “no, i wouldn’t…” you begin to cry, wishing your boyfriend wasn’t so insecure of who you were friends with. “i don’t like him like that rafe i promi—”

“i am your boyfriend” he reaches over to grab your jaw from behind, pulling your head up to listen closely. “no one else, me, so you should be a good girlfriend and do as i fuckin’ say. i told you so many times that i don’t like them pogues, and i don’t want you hangin’ around them. i especially told you to stay the fuck away from jj, cause i don’t like the way that motha’fucker looks at you, and holds your fuckin’ hand” he explains, harshly gripping your throat to choke you, hearing your breathing struggle.

“so if you’re gonna disobey me like that, well, that’s your problem.” he tells you, snickering from behind you as he lets go of your throat to take his own clothes off, you were left in doggy, silently sobbing to yourself.

he springs his already hard dick out of his boxers as he pulls them off, having been so turned on by your fear of him. when he got completely naked, he grabbed your waist and flipped you back over onto your back, where he forced himself on top of you and immediately slammed his cock into you without any warning. it hurt and caught you off guard, making you let out a loud yelp but he is fast to cover your mouth and grip it tightly.

“shush. don’t cry, it’ll make me harder” he pouts, yet again pretending to sympathize with you. tears are flowing down your face now, and he wasn’t lying, you can actually feel his cock getting harder as it hurt more and more each time he entered you. “ow, rafe… please stop…” you whine under his hand, shutting your eyes tightly. “no, no, look at me” he demands, removing his hand from your mouth to tap your face a couple times, making you open your eyes and look into his.

“okay, you proved your point… just stop” you try to fight him from underneath his body, but he uses it to restrain you, and both of his hands to grip your wrists, pinning you down fully. “what point? there’s no point. i just wanna fuck you like the little slut you are… maybe i should just take a video and send it to jj” he teases, making you shake your head quickly, begging him not to.

“why not? don’t you want him to know you’re my girl? and that nobody fuckin’ touches my girl?” he asks, frowning his eyebrows at you as he thrusts into you roughly, forcing moans and gasps out of your mouth. “he… he already knows..” you let out in between heavy breaths, “oh, he does? then why the fuck is he touching you, hm?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks into your tear-filled eyes.

“rafe, ow… red…” you cry out the safe word, unable to take it anymore. his thrusts are full of hate, his hands are too aggressive, his cock is too much… “rafe?” you ask in a pant, seeing as he doesn’t stop. “shh…” he stops you from talking, ignoring your plea to stop and roughly placing his hand over your mouth again, this time tighter.

“no—” you mumble underneath him.

“shut up and take it” he harshly says, looking into your eyes as he forces his cock in and out of you. he watches you cry and squirm under him, but he simply does not care… he enjoys it actually. he loves seeing you struggle to his power, succumb to his dominance.

after laying there for a minute, moaning and whining, he finally removes his hand from your mouth to hear your gasp for air. “you want me to stop?” he asks, pouting at you. “y—yes… please” you beg between pauses, watching as his pout turns into a teasing smile, “well i’m not. not until you promise me you’ll never hang out with those pricks again” he says, looking into your eyes, practically forcing your answer out of you.

“okay… okay, i promise… i swear—”

“you swear?”

“i swear on my life…”

“there’s a good girl. that’s what i wanna hear. you better not be lying because i will do ten times worse, you hear me?” he slyly threatens, making your head nod quickly in response. at this point you were willing to do anything to get him to stop.

“good, princess… if i see you talking to him again i’ll fuckin’ kill him.” he says, finally pulling out of you once he finished what he had to say, leaving you crying and whimpering. “shut up, c’mon, here” rafe says, shoving your body aside as he climbs off the bed and reaches down to grab your clothes, throwing them right at you.

“don’t be so dramatic it didn’t hurt that bad” he chuckles, laughing at your tears. “it did hurt that bad… i asked you to stop…” you sniffle, wiping your eyes as you grab your clothes he tossed over. “and i asked you to stop sneaking around with them behind my back, didn’t i?” he asks, raising his eyebrows with a smart look on his face.

“yeah but—”

“then it looks like we both don’t get our own way, huh?” he laughs at you, giving you a horrible cocky grin before walking over to the door and walking out, shutting it behind you to leave you there alone.

you stayed on his bed for a few more minutes, lying on your side and crying to yourself before deciding to put your clothes back on. after you were dressed, you looked at yourself in the mirror and saw your stained makeup and rosy red cheeks and eyes, your hair was a mess, you were a mess… you had no idea where rafe even went, but you didn’t want to find out, so you gather your things and bolt for the bedroom door, rushing downstairs and leaving tannyhill in a rush.

you had no idea where to go next, but you know for sure the pogues weren’t on the list. you already disobeyed rafe and suffered the consequences, you don’t want to make the same mistake knowing the threat murder is on the cards…

I HATE THIS. IM SO SORRY IF YOU DO TOO. i haven’t posted in a while bc of school stuff so i hope u guys forgive me with another dark, juicy rafe fic. 💋🎀 let me know what you think in the comments! — THIS ISNT PROOFREAD. english isn’t my first language so if you spot any mistakes please feel free to point them out. LOVE U ALLLLLL

ANY HATE COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED BECAUSE THIS FIC IS NOT FOR YOU 🫶🏻

@cameronluvr

#this is an extremely dark fic PLEASE DO NOT READ IF UR UNCOMFORTABLE!!!!!!#toxic!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #toxic!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe #dark!rafe x reader

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doumadono · 6 months ago

Note

✨ SINFUL SUNDAY BITCHES ✨

Can we get some villain Bakugo corrupting pro hero reader?

Warnings: smut w/o plot, non-con elements, rough smut, pussy fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, fem prohero!reader, villain!Bakugo, semi-public, a bit of humiliation and degradation?, Bakugo being sardonic, a little of power play, forced orgasm

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during another Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA

The night was cloaked in darkness, the moon a mere sliver in the sky, casting a faint glow over the bustling city below. Neon lights flickered, casting eerie glows on the wet pavement. The quiet murmur of the city was interrupted by distant sirens, a reminder of the ever-present danger lurking in the shadows.

You were a pro hero, dedicated and unwavering in your resolve to protect the citizens of Musutafu. You stood atop a high-rise building, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the streets for any sign of the notorious villain who had been wreaking havoc recently. Katsuki Bakugo, once a promising hero-in-training, had taken a dark turn, abandoning his dreams of heroism to embrace a path of destruction and chaos.

Your mission tonight was clear: apprehend Bakugo and bring him to justice. But as you stood there, the cold wind biting at your skin through your costume, you couldn't shake the unease that settled in your stomach. Bakugo was known for his explosive temper and unparalleled strength, and you had a feeling this encounter would be anything but easy.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion echoed through the night, shaking the building beneath your feet. You spun around, your eyes wide as you spotted the source of the blast: a plume of smoke rising from a nearby warehouse. Without hesitation, you leapt from the rooftop, and made your way towards the chaos.

As you approached the warehouse, you could see the flicker of flames licking at the sky, the acrid scent of burning metal and debris filling your nostrils. You landed gracefully, your boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. The warehouse was in ruins, chunks of concrete and twisted metal scattered around the area. And in the midst of the destruction, standing amidst the flames like a demon from the depths of hell, was no one else but Katsuki Bakugo.

He turned to face you, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he recognized you. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look who decided to show up. A little late to the party, aren't we?"

You clenched your fists, your eyes narrowing as you met his gaze. "Bakugo," you spat, taking a defensive stance. "I won't let you continue this reign of terror. This ends tonight. I'm taking you in."

Bakugo laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "You really think you can take me down, princess? You're welcome to try, but I promise you, it's not going to end the way you think."

With a sudden burst of speed, Bakugo closed the distance between you, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist.

You reacted on instinct, twisting away and aiming a punch at his midsection, but he was faster. His grip tightened, and with a flick of his wrist, he sent you crashing to the ground, his body pinning yours.

"You're so predictable," he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "Always playing by the rules, always so righteous. But you know what, sweetheart? That shit doesn't matter anymore. In this world, power is the only thing that counts."

You struggled beneath him, your heart racing as you tried to free yourself from his grasp. “Let. Me. Go.”

But Bakugo's strength was overwhelming, his body a solid wall of muscle and raw power. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "Tell me, little heroine," he murmured, his free hand trailing down your side, "Have you ever wondered what it's like to let go? To stop fighting and just give in?"

You gasped, your body reacting to his touch despite your determination to resist. "Stop," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "This isn't you. You're not a monster. Your mind is just clouded."

He chuckled darkly, his fingers sliding beneath the hem of your costume, teasing the sensitive skin of your tummy. "Oh, but it is me," he said, his eyes burning with a twisted kind of desire. "And deep down, I think you like it. I think you want it."

With a swift motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his dominance overwhelming.

You fought against the pull, but the intensity of his touch, the raw passion he exuded, was intoxicating.

His hands roamed your body, setting your nerves alight with every touch. "Feel that?" he murmured against your lips. "That's the real you, begging to be unleashed."

Your resolve wavered, the lines between right and wrong blurring in the heat of the moment. "Bakugo, stop," you pleaded, though your voice lacked conviction.

"Stop?" he taunted, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. "You don't want me to stop, princess. You want to see just how far this can go."

You knew you should resist, should fight with everything you had, but you simply couldn’t.

Bakugo's lips found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he continued to speak, his voice a low, hypnotic growl. "Give in, heroine," he urged, his hand moving lower, tracing the curve of your hip. "Let me show you what real power feels like."

You bit your lip, an unwanted moan escaping your lips as his hand found its way between your legs, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against the fabric of your costume on your crotch.

The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and resistance that made your head spin. "Bakugo," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Don’t touch me."

He smiled against your skin, his fingers gently slapping your crotch. "Stop it," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone. "Don’t be such a prude. We both know you like being used. You whores all do.”

And in that moment, as your body responded to his touch, you realized that you were powerless to resist him. Katsuki Bakugo, the villain you had sworn to stop, was slowly and resolutely tearing down all of your defenses, pulling you into his dark, dangerous world.

"You think you can resist me?" he taunted, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "I know you feel it too. That darkness inside you, begging to be set free."

"Bakugo, this isn't right," you protested, shaking your head abruptly.

His smirk widened, a feral glint in his eyes. "Right or wrong doesn't matter now. All that matters is what you want. And I know you want this."

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours again, the kiss possessive.

You tried to fight it once again, but failed. "Bakugo," you gasped when he broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his voice rough with need. "I want to hear you beg for it."

The command in his tone sent a jolt of primal desire through you, your body betraying your resolve. "Katsuki," you whispered, the name a plea on your lips.

He growled in approval, his hands sliding under your uniform again, fingers tracing the curves of your body. "That's it. Don’t be shy, princess."

In one swift motion, he tore at your clothes, the fabric yielding to his strength.

The cool night air kissed your exposed skin, but the heat radiating from Bakugo's body kept you warm.

His touch was relentless, every caress igniting a fire that burned through you. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "So eager, so willing. I knew you had it in you. Haha, you just can’t wait to have a villain cock in your cunt."

You gasped as his hands found their way to your panties, his touch both demanding and expertly skilled.

He captured your lips again, the kiss deep and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs.

"Bakugo, please," you whimpered after breaking the kiss, the need in your voice undeniable.

He chuckled darkly, his eyes flashing with triumph. "That's what I wanted to hear." With a swift, practiced motion, he lifted you like you weighed nothing, like you were nothing but a rag doll, pressing you against the rough brick wall of the warehouse.

The sensation of the cool brick against your exposed skin made you whimper. Your breath hitched, your resolve wavering under his piercing stare. "Bakugo, this isn't —"

"Oh, shut the fuck up finally," he interrupted, his lips crashing down on yours to silence you. He smirked against your lips, his fingers tracing teasing circles over the middle of your panties. "You're already so fucking wet for me," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I knew you wanted this, little one."

He quickly tugged your panties down your legs, and without thinking much, you helped him take them off completely. A gasp escaped your lips as he pushed a finger inside you, the intrusion both shocking and exhilarating. He finger fucked you while licking the pulse point on your neck with the tip of his tongue, wet trail of his saliva painting your throat. He soon added another digit.

"Bakugo," you moaned, the sound of his name a plea on your lips.

"That's right," he growled, his fingers moving faster, deeper, each thrust stroking all the right places deep within you. "Let me hear you beg for it."

"Bakugo, please," you whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate for more. Even though it all felt wrong and he was only humiliating you.

His smirk widened, a feral gleam in his eyes. "Good little heroine," he murmured, adding another finger, the sensation overwhelming. "Feel that? That's me owning you." His fingers moved with relentless precision, hitting all of the sweet, spongy spots. His calloused thumb brushed over your clit at the same time.

Bakugo cupped your face with his other hand in a mockery of intimacy, his rough digits surprisingly gentle against your skin. His eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned in, the warmth of his breath hitting your cheek as he sniffed you. "Fuck," he murmured, almost to himself, "I could get used to this."

You smelled so good, sweet and soft and clean — a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded him daily. It had been so long since he had been this close to a woman, and never one who was willing. The scent of you, the feel of your skin against his, it was intoxicating, a drug he hadn't realized he craved.

Bakugo kissed you again while fingering your tight pussy, the sloppy, wet noises so lewd that, involuntarily, you became wetter than before.

You hated how your body reacted.

His tongue swept over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He gripped you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold.

You had never been kissed like this before.

Bakugo finally pulled his fingers out of you and dropped to his knees, hitching one of your legs up over his shoulder. The velvety skin of your inner thigh looked so delicious that he nuzzled against the bare area and latched onto it, sucking until he was sure you'd have a mark in a few minutes. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy was inches away from him, intoxicating and irresistible. Bakugo's eyes darkened with desire as he inhaled deeply, dying to make you cum in his needy mouth. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds before his tongue darted out, tasting you for the first time. The sensation was electric, his mouth working expertly, eager to draw out every moan, every shiver of pleasure from you. He latched onto your clit, sucking and flicking with a fervor that made your knees weak, his grip on your leg tightening to keep you steady. "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, the vibration of his voice sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He was relentless, devouring you with a hunger that left you breathless.

“B-Bakugo…”

A sound you’d never heard yourself make before forced its way out of your mouth as Bakugo ate you out in earnest, his tongue rubbing against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gave you no time to catch your breath. You wanted him to stop. And at the same time, you never wanted him to stop. Your hands twitched as you fought the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your trembling thighs. His tongue felt so, so good against your pussy. You had never been with a man who was that skilled in pleasuring a woman.

Bakugo curled one arm around your thigh, pulling his face away from your cunny just long enough to push his fingers back into your drenched hole, angling his palm to grind the heel of his hand roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm, wet softness of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge. You cried out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Bakugo's fingers as he worked them in and out of you.

"Fuck, that’s it, you little, pathetic whore, cum for me now or I'll have to blow your fucking useless head out," he growled, his voice vibrating through you as he rubbed the bulge tenting in his pants roughly with his free hand. His eyes were dark with desire, watching you come undone. Bakugo groaned, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh, before attaching his mouth to your pussy again. He drank in all of your juices, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as if he couldn’t get enough.

You just came on the tongue of a villain.

Bakugo looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips, his chin glistening with your release. "You taste even better than I imagined," he said, his voice low and rough.

Your legs felt weak, barely able to support you as the reality of what had just happened sank in. You felt oh so humiliated, but a part of you couldn't ignore the raw, undeniable pleasure that Bakugo had drawn from you.

He got back to his feet, and whispered against your ear. "Admit that you want me to fuck you right here, right now."

"Yes," you breathed, the word a desperate plea.

He didn't need any more encouragement. With a growl, he freed himself from his fitted combat pants, his cock sprung up free, resting proudly against his toned abdomen; the aggressive, red tip leaking precum from its slit. He positioned himself at your slimy entrance, the anticipation almost too much to bear. "You're mine," he declared, his voice thick with possessive hunger. “You’re nothing but a tiny hole I’m going to use however I please. You’re fucking nothing but a piece of meat.”

With a powerful thrust, he entered you, the sensation tearing a gasp from your lips. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was intoxicating. He moved with a fierce rhythm, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy with every rough thrust he delivered. He yanked one of your legs up, wrapping it around his hips to find the better angle.

He could hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped so tightly around his dick. It consumed his every thought, his every desire. He wanted to live inside your pussy, to fuck your warmth every day, every minute. The feeling of fucking you raw was the best he had felt in months, a primal satisfaction that eclipsed everything else.

"Bakugo," you moaned, your hands clinging to his shoulders for support.

"That's right," he growled, his pace relentless as he hardly squeezed your boob through your sports bra. "Scream my name. Let everyone know who you belong to."

“K-Katsuki!”

The world around you dissolved into a haze of pleasure and desire, the only reality was the feeling of Bakugo claiming you, possessing you completely. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts, his breath hot against your skin.

The warehouse was a chaos of fire and smoke, the heat from the flames slowly licking at your skin, but the inferno around you was nothing compared to the blaze between you and Bakugo. The firelight cast an eerie glow over his face, highlighting the intense, almost feral desire in his eyes.

“Such a good whore, taking my cock in her tight little pussy so fucking well,” Bakugo praised, licking a stripe of your neck, growling lowly into your ear.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you harder against the wall. The rough brick scraped your back.

Every nerve ending was on fire, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming.

"That's it," he growled, his pace increasing, the friction of his body against yours driving you wild. “That’s it, whore.”

You gasped at the insult, your leg tightening around his hips, pulling him deeper.

He angled his hips, hitting the sweetest spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes with the tip of his massive cock. "Right there," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "I can feel you clenching around me. That’s a good, little heroic whore.”

You nodded frantically, your breath coming in ragged gasps whenever the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

"Bakugo!" you screamed, raking your nails along his shoulders even though they were still covered by the upper part of his gear.

He swirled two fingers against your clit after slipping the hand that had cupped your boob earlier down to your slick pussy.

You mewled like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation, and he laughed rudely.

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as possible, his cock pulsing and swelling as he came, filling you with his hot, thick release. “Fuck, take it, take it all, bitch.”

Your climax built rapidly as well. Your body tensed, the coil of pleasure tightening until it finally snapped when he came inside of you. With a cry of his name, you shattered, the pleasure overwhelming, consuming you utterly for the second time this evening. Your body convulsed around him, your pussy clenching and milking his veiny cock as he continued to pound into you. “Bakugo!”

“That’s it, little one, that’s it,” Bakugo cooed, his thrust sloppy until he stopped moving. He held you there for a moment. The slurping sound that reverberated in the air as his cock partially left your drenched pussy was obscene. Equally obscene was the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connected your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulled away fully. His rough hands were still gripping your hips as he watched with a wry grin how his cum dribbled out of your abused pussy.

"You're fucking mine," he whispered, his voice a rough promise. "There's no place you could possibly hide from me," he whispered. "I'll find you anywhere, little heroine. You are mine, and no one else, nor any other thing, will ever change that."

When clouds of primal lust faded away, clearing your mind a little, the humiliation hit you like a heavy hammer, threatening to crush you under its weight. You fought the urge to cry, the stress and fear coursing through you like a tidal wave. You couldn't tear up like a baby in front of him, couldn't show any sign of weakness. Even though you already did.

Frantically, you looked around for your panties, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to improve the upper part of your hero costume that was practically torn in half. But before you could find them, his low, mocking laugh reached your ears. You raised your head slowly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, as you saw him toying with them in his hand, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You looking for these?" he taunted, holding them just out of reach. "You should know better by now. Everything that touches you belongs to me too." He sniffed your panties, and then theatrically licked the damp spot in the middle with his tongue, making you shudder involuntarily. His grin widened at your reaction, a cruel satisfaction evident in his eyes. After wiping his cock with your panties, he tucked them into the pocket of his pants, adjusting his trousers shortly after with a nonchalant flick of his wrist. "I'll keep these as a little souvenir," he announced.

Bakugo took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming as he helped you adjust your own pants. "Now, go," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Run to them and tell them that not only did you fail to stop and capture the infamous villain, but also moaned like a cheap whore when his cock was buried to the hilt in your wet pussy. I'm super curious about their reaction."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you nodded numbly, unable to form a proper sentence after you pulled up what was left of your hero pants. You turned around and walked away with a shaky step as you prepared to face the consequences of your failure.

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midnightorchids · 6 months ago

Note

firefighter jason makes sure he's always the one to save you. yeah he'll be a little bitch and gently oush his coworker away so he can be the one to help you

OH THIS IS SO GOOD!! You just gave me such a good idea for a “first meeting” scenario, let me know what you think and please feel free to elaborate!!

You’re stuck in a building that is about to collapse due to a massive fire. You can see firefighters approaching and trying to diffuse the situation, but your vision is blurred.

You’re a coughing mess and your eyes are getting teary.

That’s when Jason sees you. It’s from a far, but the minute his eyes land on you, he’s mesmerized, absolutely captivated.

He sees that one of his coworkers is about to approach you, but before the man can walk towards your direction, Jason steps in.

“No,” he says. “You go look after the other people.” His coworker stares at him, confused.

“What the hell, she clearly needs help. Let me go,” the man says.

“I said go take care of the others, I got it okay,” Jason says sternly and his coworker walks away after hearing his tone. Jason then quickly makes his way towards you.

It’s getting hard for you to hold on. There’s too much smoke and you’re getting lightheaded. You feel as if you’re about to collapse. You prepare yourself for a fall and that’s when something catches you.

Two big arms are placed securely around your waist, preventing the fall.

Your eyes are met with a man’s face. It’s hard to make out the details, but you can see a small scar on his lip and a pair of dark emerald eyes, which seemed to glow under the orange hue of the fire. You hold onto his uniform with the last of your strength and he clutches on to you tighter.

“Hey, easy, I’m gonna get you out of here, okay,” his gentle voice coats your ears. You nod your head in response.

He begins lifting you in his arms and making his way towards the exit….

#writing this while squealing I’m in love with firefighter Jason #gn!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine #red hood headcanon #batfam

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slytherinslut0 · 1 year ago

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Seventeen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, DARK THEMES, Sexual Harassment, Asshole!Berkshire, Extreme Depictions of Violence, Blood, SMUT, PIV, Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Emerging from the closet, you and Mattheo shared one more fleetingly charged moment, your eyes locking in a silent exchange laden with unspoken emotions. With a subtle nod, you both returned to your seats, seamlessly slipping back into the roles you had mastered--the poised Ravenclaw and the bad, rebellious Slytherin. The transition was flawless, but beneath the composed exteriors, a storm of emotions raged.

As the game progressed and the night drew on, your eyes locked with Mattheo's from across the circle more times than you could even begin to count--and as the rest of the room remained blissfully unaware, you were acutely attuned to the dance of hidden desires, an intimate connection that thrived in the shadows.

The game of truth or dare continued, growing more wild with each passing round, until most people involved became to tired to continue. In the midst of all of this, Emily and Tom seemed to hit it off, engrossed in their own conversation which seemed to have started before you had even returned from the closet with Mattheo--and as much as the sight was slightly confusing, you were profoundly grateful for the unexpected friendship between them. It undoubtedly relieved the pressure of having to engage with Tom.

As the night wore on, exhaustion settled deep within your bones. Berkshire, thoroughly intoxicated, was gently escorted to his dormitory by Malfoy, his usual disgusting arrogance now replaced by a drunken stumble. Despite the lingering adrenaline from the evening's events, weariness tugged at your limbs, pulling you towards the comfort of your dormitory.

While Emily and Tom remained engrossed in their conversation, you seized the opportunity to excuse yourself quietly. With polite smiles and casual goodnights, you bid farewell to the remaining members of the circle. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, your energy waning with every movement. The echoes of laughter and conversation faded into the distance as you navigated the familiar corridors, the subdued glow of torchlight guiding your way.

Taking a moment to escape the confines of the castle, you stepped into the tranquil courtyard, leaning against the railing and seeking solace under the vast expanse of stars. The night air embraced you, carrying with it a soothing whisper of tranquility. Breathing in deeply, you let the cool breeze wash over you, attempting to shed the lingering tension from your bones after the intense evening you had just endured.

And in the midst of your attempts to find serenity, the peaceful atmosphere shattered like fragile glass, stumbling footsteps making their way toward you. As you glanced over, you watched an inebriated Berkshire stumble his way into the courtyard, bringing himself dangerously close to you, his usual arrogance magnified by the influence of alcohol. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, fixated on you with a disturbing intensity.

"Shit...what do we have here?" he slurred, his words laced with drunken confidence. "A little bird all alone in the night...don't you know it's fuckin' dangerous to be out here all by yourself?"

Your disgust was palpable as you shot him a withering glare. "Save your pathetic lines for someone who cares, Berkshire," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain. "The only thing dangerous is my dwindling patience at the mere sight of you."

"Why're you such a bitch, huh?" he slurred, his words carrying the stench of alcohol. His proximity was uncomfortably close, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be 'cause you secretly like me, right?"

Your jaw clenched, a mixture of annoyance and disgust bubbling within you. His words were as repugnant as his alcohol-laden breath. The tension you had been trying to relieve was now replaced by a different kind, a sharp pang of frustration at having to deal with his inappropriate behavior.

"I suggest you find your way back to your dorm," you retorted, your voice firm despite the rising irritation. "Your delusions won't make your company any more welcome."

Berkshire's drunken persistence grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, his obnoxious confidence seeming to inflate with every word you uttered. Before you could process it, he closed the distance between you, his movements erratic, invading your personal space. His clammy hand shot up, gripping your jaw with a force that made your teeth clench, forcing your eyes to meet his in a cruel display of dominance.

"Why won't you just admit it, huh?" he slurred, his words punctuated by the reek of alcohol on his breath. His bloodshot eyes bored into yours, his arrogance seemingly impervious to your clear discomfort. "You can't deny the attraction, sweetheart...I see it in the way you look at me when you think no one's watching."

Your patience snapped like a taut rope. Anger flared in your chest, hot and searing. With a swift movement, you pushed his hand away from your face, your voice cutting through the night with icy precision, a steely resolve in your voice that should have been enough to ward off any sane person.

"Let me make this abundantly clear, Berkshire," you said, your tone as sharp as a blade. "There is no secret admiration, no desire, and certainly no fucking attraction. You're nothing more than a nuisance, and I have no patience for your delusions. Now, back the fuck off before you regret testing my tolerance any further."

Despite your unwavering stance, Berkshire's drunken laughter reverberated through the courtyard, a disturbing echo of arrogance undeterred by your resistance. He jeered, taking another step toward you, his movements unsteady but determined. The cold, unforgiving metal of the railing you had been standing in front of pressed into your back as he cornered you, his breath reeking of alcohol and menace.

Panic clawed at your throat, but you refused to show weakness, your eyes meeting his with a defiant glare. "Berkshire, what are you-"

Ignoring your words, he advanced further, backing you up against the railing until there was nowhere left to retreat. Your heart thundered in your chest, the weight of his aggression bearing down on you. And then, in a moment of terror, he grabbed you, his grip surprisingly strong, squeezing tighter than you had ever expected. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers dug into your arms, pain flaring through your limbs. The situation had escalated far beyond your control, and the realization struck you like a physical blow.

"Let me go," you demanded, your voice strained but resolute, despite the fear tightening your throat. But Berkshire only tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin, his drunken gaze wild and unpredictable. "Enzo, fuck, stop..."

"Shut the fuck up," he growled, he breath grazing over your neck as he pressed himself against you. "You're such a fucking-"

Before Berkshire could finish that sentence, a familiar voice--one usually somewhat smooth and composed, cut through the air with a terrifying intensity.

"Berkshire…if you don't get your fucking hands off of her," the threat in his tone was unmistakable, a promise of unspeakable consequences if ignored. "I fucking swear-"

But Berkshire, lost in his drunken rage, remained heedless, his eyes glazed over with a dangerous mixture of anger and entitlement. “Shut up, Riddle…she fucking wants me…”

You caught Mattheo's eyes from over Enzo's shoulder, ones that once held a glimmer of restraint now blazed with an uncontrollable anger that seemed to ignite the air around him. His usual composure shattered, replaced by a raw, primal fury.

In a heartbeat, Mattheo closed the distance between him and Berkshire, his movements fluid and almost supernatural. His hand shot out like a striking serpent, fingers wrapping around Berkshire's throat like an unyielding vice. The grip was tight, a clear message of the danger Berkshire was in.

“I warned you,” he hissed, and with a swift, powerful motion, Mattheo ripped Berkshire off of you, sending him crashing onto the unforgiving stone ground, a stunned gasp escaping his lips upon impact--Mattheo’s throat was shredded with anger as he growled, “I fucking warned you…”

You stood frozen, your lungs burning as you desperately gasped for air, your vision swimming with a heady mix of fear and relief. Mattheo, his eyes ablaze with fury, descended upon Berkshire like a vengeful deity. His arm darted out, fingers clenching Berkshire's collar in one hand while the other transformed into a merciless fist.

“Stay the fuck away from her…you don’t fucking look at her, you don’t even fucking breathe near her…do you fucking understand me?” Mattheo didn’t wait for a response, the first punch landing with a sickening crack, the sound reverberating through the courtyard like a thunderclap. Mattheo jostled Enzo in his grip, practically spitting his words against his face. “No one gets to fucking touch her…no one except me…fucking no one…”

A momentary pause hung in the air, a fleeting heartbeat of stillness, before Mattheo struck again. And again. And again. He was possessed, every punch a release of the pent-up rage that had been simmering beneath the surface, each blow fueled by a primal instinct to protect, to defend, to punish the one who dared to harm you.

Berkshire's face transformed into a grotesque mask of crimson, his features distorted by pain and fear. The courtyard seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Mattheo's anger, the sound of his blows drowned out by the rapid thudding of your heart--and it wasn't until Draco Malfoy, his normally composed demeanor replaced by wide-eyed shock, entered the fray, that Mattheo's onslaught finally came to a halt.

Malfoy, his strength surprising for someone so slender, managed to pull Mattheo off Berkshire, the latter struggling like a wild animal, his rage still burning brightly, his chest heaving with exasperated fury.

"What the fuck happened here?" Theodore dropped to his knees next to his fallen friend, a mixture of concern and disbelief etched on his features as he met your stunned eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind struggling to comprehend the violence that had just unfolded before you. The shock had rendered you speechless, your throat dry and constricted, words caught in the whirlwind of your emotions. "Yes...I'm okay..."

While you attempted to spit out words, Mattheo's heaving form, still seething with raw anger, ripped himself free from Malfoy's hold. With a voice that carried the weight of his fury, he spoke on your behalf, the words sharp and cutting through the air.

"Berkshire thought he could lay his fucking hands on her is what happened," his voice was cold, each word laced with contempt. "After I warned him...I warned him how many fucking times..."

Mattheo's aura, once magnetic and enticing, was now a tempest, an embodiment of wrath that crackled in the air around him. The atmosphere seemed to vibrate with his intensity, as if the very stones beneath your feet could feel his fury. It was a chilling reminder, mostly to you, that beneath the composed facade, there was a force to be reckoned with, a protector who would stop at nothing to shield you from harm--and that thought did inexplicable, disgustingly shameless things to your fucking body.

Draco Malfoy, his usual cool composure momentarily shaken, stepped away from Mattheo, his eyes assessing the situation with a discerning gaze.

"Let's get him to the hospital wing," he suggested to Theodore, his voice cutting through the tension. Nott, too, recognized the need for immediate action, nodding in agreement, before briefly meeting your eyes. "I'm sorry about him...there's no way he hasn't learned his lesson now...fuckin' sorry little prat..."

You nodded in response as the two of them lifted Berkshire, supporting his battered form between them. As they glanced between you and Mattheo, it was as though a silent understanding passed between Draco and Nott. Their glances met, a knowing look shared, acknowledging that there was something more beneath the surface of this situation. They sensed the unspoken connection, the invisible thread that bound you and Mattheo together, but they chose not to pry. Instead, they respected the unspoken boundaries, allowing the complexities of your relationships to remain your own.

Meanwhile, Mattheo turned his attention back to you, his eyes a tumultuous blend of emotions, the storm within him slowly subsiding as he registered the shock lingering in your eyes. With a soft yet determined expression, he stepped closer, his presence becoming a comforting shield against the aftermath of the confrontation that had left both of you shaken.

"Raven, I'm so fucking-" he began, his voice thick with regret and unspoken apologies.

"I'm fine, Mattheo." You cut him off, your heart pounding in your chest, the sight of his breathless, bloodied and dishevelled form doing dangerous things to your cunt--and you knew, more than anything, you just wanted to be alone with him. "Please just take me back to your dorm."

His brows furrowed in confusion, but the desperation in your eyes didn't leave room for questions.

"What-" he started to inquire, but you took a step closer, your neck arching slightly to catch his dark, penetrating gaze.

"Take me back to your dorm," you repeated. "Please."

Upon hearing the raw desperation in your voice, Mattheo nodded, his fingers gently finding yours as he immediately led you down the hall and through the empty corridor to his dorm. The moment he pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside, it felt as though the temperature in the room had increased to a million bloody degrees. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a potent mix of fear, desire, and the undeniable pull that had always existed between you, intensified now by the events of the night.

As you cautiously stepped into his dorm, your eyes were drawn to the familiar sight of the astronomy book lying open on his desk. The memory of the last time you had been in his dorm flashed in your mind--the same book, sitting untouched on his desk, an odd object in the midst of his carefully curated chaos.

"Why do you still have this out?" you questioned, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Mattheo hesitated, his stormy eyes locking onto yours in a moment of vulnerability.

"Can't a man indulge in the mysteries of the stars whenever he fancies?" he retorted with a smirk, attempting to deflect the gravity of the situation. His voice carried a hint of playfulness, but the tension beneath the surface was palpable. "Or perhaps stargazing is an art reserved solely for beautiful little ravens, hm?"

"Is it because of me?" Your stare bore into him, a mix of curiosity and suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Is it because of me that you have this book?”

He didn't deny it; instead, after a long, silent moment, he simply nodded, almost impenetrably, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a silent admission, a confession that hung heavy in the charged atmosphere of the room. In that moment, the undeniable pull between you became almost tangible, the invisible thread connecting your hearts growing stronger, defying the boundaries you had desperately tried to impose.

You stepped toward him. "Did you miss me, Mattheo..."

Mattheo met your gaze, his expression enigmatic yet stoic, a mask of his usual arrogance and charm slipping back into place. His silence lingered for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension.

Then, in a voice that held a depth of emotion he was trying to conceal, he replied, "Maybe I did, Raven..."

You moved closer, the air crackling with need as you closed the distance, your heart pounding in your chest. When you finally stood before him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you dared to reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was warm, and beneath your touch, you could sense the subtle tremor that betrayed the restraint he was exercising. Your breath caught in your throat as you tilted your head, your lips hovering just millimeters from his.

"Don't be shy, Mattheo..." you murmured, teasing him with your fingers as you trailed over his jawline. "Why don't you show me how much you missed me..."

Mattheo's jaw clenched under your touch, his dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that matched the simmering desire between you. You sighed when his hands, strong and possessive, found their way to your hips, pulling you closer with a magnetic force that left you breathless. His restraint wavered, the barrier between temptation and surrender growing thinner by the second.

"Salazar fucking save me..." Mattheo's voice was a raspy whisper, a plea and a challenge rolled into one, his vulnerability veiled behind a facade of arrogance. "Who the hell are you..."

You leaned in, your lips hovering dangerously close to his, your eyes locking onto his with a daring intensity.

"Sorry to break it to you, Riddle," you purred, your voice a seductive melody that echoed in the charged space between you. "But I'm afraid not even your maker could save you now..." a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your breath mingling with his. "Better start counting your blessings..."

"Blessings, huh?" Mattheo's lips curved into a half-smirk, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'd much rather count the seconds until I can taste those sweet fucking lips of yours..."

His words sent a jolt of desire through you, your heart pounding in response to his brazen confidence.

"Gods, you really are a changed man, aren't you?" You murmured, fighting your smirk as his fingers tightened their grip on your hips. "You were never one to wait for permission before..."

"Raven," his voice was a low, raspy whisper, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter. "You're really testing my fucking patience here...and you should know I'm not a patient man..."

Your smirk grew, heat flushing your cheeks, your fingers tracing a tantalizing path along the underside of his jawline, now, teasingly slow.

"Maybe I enjoy testing your limits…maybe I want to see how far I can push you..." you muttered, your voice laced with playful defiance. "Or perhaps I just like watching you squirm, Riddle...perhaps I want to hear you beg for me..."

Mattheo's patience snapped like a taut wire, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and desire.

"Look at you, huh...all fucking smug..." he growled, his voice edged with playful frustration as he peered down at you. "You've kept that pussy from me for over two fucking weeks and now you want to tease me like this? Did you forget how bloody fast I can make you crumble for me..."

Your defiant facade began to crack under the intensity of his gaze, a shiver running down your spine.

"Gods, maybe I did..." your voice barely above a whisper, the defiance replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Maybe I need you to remind me..."

"Shit...there she is...there's my good fucking girl..." he murmured, his tone a mixture of reverence and desire. "...tell me what you want, Raven..."

A sigh of satisfaction slipped past your lips as his hands tightened their grip, his touch searing into your hips as though he was trying to hang on to his last shreds of willpower. With a trembling voice, you met his dark, penetrating eyes, wetting your lips as you let yourself drown in their depths.

"You," you whispered, your voice a husky admission. "I want you."

He exhaled. "Then fucking have me."

In a whirlwind of desire, his lips crashed onto yours, sending your senses into a frenzy. Your eyelids fluttered shut as both of you inhaled sharply through your noses, trying to catch your breath amidst the electrifying kiss. His hands, strong and possessive, tangled in your hair, pulling you closer with an urgency that matched the racing beat of your heart. Your lips parted in a soft groan of surrender, inviting him in, and his tongue slipped between your teeth with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

His lips moved over yours, claiming every inch as though he needed you to survive, and your fingers found solace in the dark waves of his hair, gripping them tightly. Mattheo responded with a primal sound, a low grunt of satisfaction that resonated between your entwined bodies. With a swift motion, he spun you around, his lips never leaving yours, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees met the edge of his bed. The kiss deepened, his mouth exploring yours with a deliberate slowness, his fingers continuing their sensual dance through your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, melting the space between you.

Mattheo's tongue danced a tantalizing dance inside your mouth before he withdrew, leaving a lingering connection between your lips. In that moment, silence enveloped both of you, rendering you nearly motionless, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what to say, think, or do. You felt the undeniable hardness of his arousal pressing against your belly, causing a flicker of anticipation to ignite within you. Your hands instinctively moved towards the hem of your shirt, but he halted you with a gaze as hard as stone.

"No," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let me."

A flush of scarlet painted your cheeks, but you nodded in silent consent, your throat tight with anticipation. His fingers bunched the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up and off of you. As you raised your arms, granting him permission to undress you further, he completed his task with deliberate care. The fabric landed on the floor with a soft rustle, discarded and forgotten, while his eyes roamed over every newly exposed expanse of your skin.

It was a ritual you knew you’d never tired of, the way he looked at your body as if it was a masterpiece, a gift he hadn't been prepared to receive.

Under the intensity of his gaze, a cascade of warmth flooded through you, your skin tingling with awareness. His hands skillfully moved behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease. He pushed it off your shoulders, the fabric gliding down your arms, his fingers skimming over the surface of your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question, before gracefully sinking to his knees in front of you. His warm breath ghosted over your belly, holding your stare as to ask for permission before he hooked his thumbs under the rim of your pants and panties, peeling them down your thighs, revealing your sensitive sex to him--inch by torturous inch.

A shiver rippled through your nerves, sending a thrill down your spine as his molten-gold eyes held yours with hunger that seemed to consume everything in its path. His gaze didn't waver for a single moment, even as he expertly removed your shoes and tossed them aside carelessly. As he rose, his palms trailed over the contours of every curve, his touch igniting a trail of electric sensations in their wake. He towered over you, a commanding presence that left you breathless, and one of his hands delicately cupped your face, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip with a gentle intensity that sent your heart racing.

"Lie back," he murmured.

Your fingers quivered with anticipation as you nodded, succumbing to the electric tension in the air. Slowly, you eased yourself back onto the mattress, adjusting your position so you could lie flat against the soft bedding.

Mattheo prowled around the perimeter of the bed, his intense gaze scorching your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Each step he took seemed deliberate, his movements exuding a raw, primal energy. After a moment, he paused, his fingers deftly working on the buttons of his bloodied dress-shirt. With a fluid motion, he peeled off the fabric, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest. His pants followed suit, dropping to the floor until he stood before you in just his boxers.

From this angle, the sight of him made your cheeks flush and your breath hitch in your throat. The raw masculinity and confidence he exuded was both breathtaking and overwhelming, leaving you yearning for more as he loomed over the bed, the outline of his throbbing cock straining the fabric of his boxers doing unspeakable things to your body--the sight of it against the background of hard, tense muscle made you clench, and you bit your lip to hide a moan that was sneaking its way out of your mouth.

And even though you knew he noticed, he said nothing, even as his knee dropped into the mattress, even as he shifted, crawling over you, until he hovered above you, looking more fucking angelic than he ever had before, looking like a man filled with devotion, passion and need.

"Mattheo..." fear was mixing with the pull of lust. You'd never seen him like this. "Matty, I--"

"Shh," he said, pushing a strand of hair away from your temple. "Relax for me, princess..."

You drew in a shaky breath, and nodded--and his lips pressed into yours, plush and wet, before he moved, leading a tingling line of kisses down your cheek, to your jawline, to your neck. Leaning in, he caressed your throat with his warm mouth and you gasped, back arcing into him. In response, Mattheo purred, laying layer after layer of soft, wet marks on your sensitive flesh. One large hand slid down your arm while he kissed his way to your breast, nuzzling his cheek into the valley of your chest before drawing a nipple between his lips.

A cry escaped you, your hips bucking into his abdomen. "Oh, Gods..."

"Shh," he said again. "Relax, angel..."

The nickname he called only made you want to writhe more. Your mind internally fucking screaming with need. Taking a deep breath, you nodded anyway.

"My angel," he repeated, planting slow, soft kisses on your stiffening bud. "My fucking sweet little angel..."

He took your nipple into his mouth again, moaning while he suckled it swollen, his hands painting pleasure on your swathes of naked, aching skin. You whimpered, nibbling on your lip to silence any sound, hands slowly slithering their way through his messy, yet beautiful fucking hair. As you tightened your grip on his strands, a groan slipped past his teeth, and he flicked the tip of your peak with his tongue before releasing it, mouth making a hot trail along your navel, his hands massaging up and down the outside of your thighs.

"You're doing so well," he whispered into your stomach. "You're so fucking beautiful..."

"Matty..." you whined, his words creating a storm of bliss in your chest. You didn't know what else to say.

"Keep being good for me..." he kissed his way to the mound of your pussy, holding a rumble in his chest as his lips grazed the top of your slit. "Are you ready?"

Are you ready? He just fucking asked if you were ready. As you gazed at him, his pink lips glistening with saliva, eyes smoldering with desire, the answer became crystal clear.

"Yes," you said. "Yes, I'm ready."

Without further hesitation, Mattheo lowered his head between your legs, your entire body jolting in pleasure as he licked a broad, flat band up your sex, feeling your fingers twirling in the curls of his hair. His mouth was hot and eager as he showered your folds with deep, heavy kisses, sending shivers of delight throughout your entire being. Mattheo's hands held your thighs in place as he slicked his strong tongue in between your slit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your core. Your eyes were fixed upon him, unable to look away from the sight of him worshipping your cunt with his mouth.

"You taste incredible," he cooed, leaving soft kisses along the crease of your thighs. "You know that I thought about this little pussy everyday, don't you?"

Your breath hitched. "Y-you did?"

"Mmhm."

He returned to working his tongue along your inner-folds, gathering your juices along the tip, humming while he swallowed--he was deliberate, taking his time to memorize every bit of your pussy, to draw as much cum from your core as he could. You whined, your clit desperate for attention.

"Matty..." you pleaded, "please..."

Mattheo's gaze met yours as he hummed, sealing his lips around your swollen nub. The intensity of the pleasure collided into you, causing a wracking sob to escape your lips as your eyes closed in ecstasy. His grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer to his face. As he sucked on your clit, he gradually built up the pressure, block by block, pushing you towards the peak of orgasm.

Your hips relentlessly rolled into him, urgent moans filling the air as you fell further and further toward overwhelming bliss. "Fuck, Mattheo...Gods..."

His hands left your thighs, exploring your body, gripping and kneading any inch of flesh they could find, until they finally rested on your breasts, thumbs tracing small, gentle circles on your hardened nipples.

"Oh, fuck," you said, "fuck, fuck..."

As the intensity of your pleasure peaked, any words leaving your lips devolved into incoherent wailing. You teetered on the edge, straining against a wall of unrelenting bliss that threatened to overtake you completely. Then, with two hard sucks, Mattheo eased you over, drawing out your climax long and slow against his mouth. Ecstasy consumed you, numbing your skin as your limbs shook and trembled. Every sensation was intensified as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, groaning as your juices coated his lips, your core throbbing and pulsing at his chin.

It felt like an eternity before he finally released you, dragging his tongue up the top of your slit as he panted and gasped for breath alongside you. The aftermath of your intense orgasm left both of you struggling to regain your senses.

Your head rolled along the mattress, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Mattheo...that was..."

"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your center, and returned his focus to your belly, kissing a steady path to your sternum, his hands still stroking at your skin. "I need you to know how much I missed everything...and I mean fucking everything..."

"Oh," was all that left your mouth, teeth pinching your lip when it began to tremble.

"From your perfect fucking tits to your filthy little mouth..." one hand started to palm at your breast, the other still gliding up your side as he inched forward. "From those delicious fucking thighs to that pretty little pussy..." he was at your neck, now, rasping into it, the heat of his body enveloping you. "Every inch of you is fucking perfect...fuck the drugs Raven, you are my insatiable goddamn addiction..."

Every syllable that escaped his lips seemed to caress your very soul, igniting a wildfire of longing within you. His words were like a spell, weaving around your heart and wrapping you in a cocoon of desire. You craved him in a way that transcended the physical, a hunger that went bone-deep. It wasn't just the touch of his skin against yours that you yearned for; it was the merging of your essence, the melding of your souls into an ethereal dance of passion. You wanted to dissolve the boundaries between you, to lose yourselves in a realm crafted solely for your bodies, where every touch and sigh was a symphony of fervor.

And as you met his gaze, there it was, in his eyes--an unnamed emotion that pulsed between you, an unspoken truth that bound you together in a way words could never encapsulate. It was a force beyond reason, an irresistible pull that drew you closer, time after fucking time again.

"You once called me a plague but fuck...you have no fucking idea..." his voice, raw with desire, clawed its way out of his throat. "I haven't even fucked you, Raven...how the fuck have you done this to me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, fingers instinctively curling in his hair. "Do you want to?..."

Mattheo hesitated, as if time itself hung suspended. His eyes searched your face, seeking the truth in your words, and then, he answered, his voice a low rasp,

"Of course I do..." he breathed. "But after what happened tonight-"

"No," you cut him off, your body moving restlessly beneath his. "After what happened tonight, I only want you more...I've never fucking wanted you so fucking badly, Mattheo...it was you who defended me, not Tom, not Zabini, you...it's always been you..."

Mattheo's jaw tensed, his eyes darkening, his chest heaving. "You want me to fuck you..." he said, as though he was trying to make himself believe it. "You want me to take your virginity..."

You nodded, a silent confirmation of your desire, but Mattheo's fingers found their way to your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle, yet firm. He held your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation, any uncertainty.

"Say it, Raven," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You know I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me to take your virginity."

Your breath caught in your throat, his proximity overwhelming your senses. With a shaky inhale, you met his intense gaze, your voice coming out as a mere whisper, "I want you to take my virginity, Mattheo."

"Fucking hell..." he breathed, the desire in his tone making your core scream. "You know that means-"

"I'm yours." You cut him off. "Even though all of this could fuck up my entire future, I don't care...I'm yours...I submit my sanity to the disaster that is sneaking around with you, Mattheo...I don't want the safe option, I don't want soft or subtle...I want dangerous, I want messy, I want sins...I fucking want you..."

"Salazar fucking save me..." he breathed after a long moment of staring at you, shifting himself to pull down his boxers, his throbbing cock springing free, smacking against his belly. "You really are a little fucking devil..."

You clenched at the sight of his dick, head glistening with precum, twitching insistently as he shifted, looping an arm under your neck and cradling your head, his face nestling into your neck while his other hand directed the head of his dick against your wet folds, slicking itself along your wetness, your entire body tensing at the foreign sensation.

He was so fucking big...you weren't sure if, "are you even going to fit...you're so fucking-"

"Shh, Raven." Mattheo huffed against your neck, angling back to meet your eyes, that devilish smirk plastered across his lips. "I'll make it fit."

At his words, you clenched again, unable to deny the intoxication of his primal arrogance, his eyes fixed on your face as he angled himself at your core now, the anticipation radiating off of him only fuelling your hunger, sending thrills through every inch of your body.

"Relax," he breathed, eyes boring into yours, the hand behind your head keeping you in place. "And look at me...I want you looking into my fucking eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."

With a nod, you held his stare, and slowly, deliberately, he pushed himself inside of you, inch by inch, letting you gasp and wince while his thick length stretched you open, until he was fully sheathed within your tightness. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching you to your limit, beyond anything you ever thought possible, and Mattheo only seemed to grow harder with each gasp that left your lips. With him completely seated inside of your cunt, you felt him pulsing at the hilt, felt his already urgent need to cum inside of you. But instead of moving right away, he jerked you closer to his chest, his lips softly grazing yours as he brought his hand to cup your jaw.

"Are you okay?" His voice was torn, shredded, nearly unrecognizable.

You nodded, holding his eyes. "I'm okay."

"Shit, Raven..." a deep groan left his chest as he exhaled, pulling out and plunging back in as slowly and carefully as he had the first time. "You're so fucking tight...fuck..."

You mewled--between the passion in your chest and the newfound sensations between your legs, your head was spinning, something was close to bursting. His skin was so hot against you, and you gripped him tighter, another moan leaving your chest, chin shaking beyond your control, the pleasure and pain commingling in your mind as you surrendered to his skilled touch--Mattheo stared at you through it all with gleaming eyes before he smothered your lips with a kiss, burning and short.

"Is this what you wanted?" The low thunder of his voice melted in your ears, and he murmured your name. "Tell me..."

Your fingers dug into his skin, your voice torn between gasps. "Yes, Mattheo..." you mewled. "It's all I've wanted."

He leaned forward, lips feathersoft on yours, kissing you, still easing his cock into you with careful rolls of his hips. The grip at your head soothed your scalp--and you could feel it, could feel yourself blending with his body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you, could feel your pulses pounding in pace, could feel the unspoken, intangible harmony coiling in your blood.

"Who else can make you feel like this, hm?" His embrace constricted you, now, stilling you while he rocked deep into you, stuffing you full, his free hand travelling down your belly, grazing over your clit--and you choked, whimpered, limp in his arms. "Tell me who this tight little pussy fucking belongs to..."

The pleasure was overwhelming, earth shattering, entirely all encompassing. Your lids fluttered, your brain spinning. "Oh, Gods...oh my fucking-"

"Look at me, Raven..." he ordered, voice torn. "Look at me or I'll stop."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, nails biting into his skin, heart pounding in your throat as you felt your sanity dangerously fucking close to shattering, your entire body encompassed in a pleasure that you've never known, a pleasure that only Mattheo fucking Riddle could give you, one that burns you from the inside out, one that shatters every inch of your resolve, leaving you bare before him.

"Tell me..." he whispered, his fingers twirling your clit. You could tell he was close, too. "Fuck...fucking say it…”

"You," you mewled, lost in the melted chocolate swirls of his irises. "It fucking belongs to you, Mattheo...fuck...only you..."

"Shit..." he groaned your name, sucking at your shoulder, tongue leaving hot lines on your neck. "You love being dirty for me..." his fingers whirled your clit faster. "You love being my nasty little slut, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, Mattheo..." you wailed, body trembling beneath him. "I love it..."

"Fuck--" A feral kiss bruised your lips, his cock splitting you with long thrusts. "That's it..." he muttered your name against your mouth. "Cum--cum for me, let me feel you..."

You shattered. "Gods--Matty! Fuck..."

Euphoria rended you wide, tearing at the seams of your sanity, and you fractured, convulsing with the sheer strength of your climax. Your walls spasmed around his dick, milking him hard, and Mattheo held you, mouth meeting yours as he came, hips hitting you with every rush of rapture as he quickly followed after you, spilling his release inside your cunt. This seemed to last for minutes, the aftershocks of bliss rippling through your bodies at once while you remained there catching breath, still connected.

You were wilted, spent, a collection of skin and cum and sweat, and when Mattheo finally pulled out, he slumped down on the mattress beside you, pulling you back into his chest, nothing but the collective sounds of your exhausted panting filling the air, neither of you willing to move even though you knew you couldn't stay here all night--but your drooping lids didn't care, your body succumbing to slumber without giving you a choice.

And as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but question how a boy who once had been the bane of your fucking existence, had now become the centre of it.

———————-

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