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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE ONESHOT- We Aren’t Over

VOTERS RESULT FROM MY POLL<3 XOXO ENJOY

Info: FWB gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off.

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, PIV, FWB, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Begging, Teasing, Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Good Sex

"You look so fucking sexy..."

large hands belonging to an admittedly handsome Ravenclaw student that you failed to acquire the name of gripped your hips; firmly pulling you against his tall body as his lips grazed your ear, hot whiskey breath washing over you, intoxicating you even further than you already were.

One hand slid around to your ass, gripping a palmful of the plump flesh over the fabric of your Slytherin uniform skirt. Your breath hitched in your throat as he nipped your earlobe, teeth tugging gently on your emerald earring, his voice a low reverberation down your spine.

"I'd love to rip that awful fucking uniform off of you and get a taste of what you're hiding under there..."

Your cheeks burned, warmth flooding you as you chewed on your lip, bringing your mouth toward his own ear now as the two of you could hardly hear yourselves think amidst the blaring music coming from the speakers in the out-of-control Friday night Slytherin party, green flashing lights blurring your vision further than the alcohol was as you squinted to try and get a better glimpse of his face.

In your intoxicated state, you couldn't recognize this guy for the life of you. The only thing that gave away his Ravenclaw status was his uniform.

"I'd be careful with your next words there, little Raven," you purred, your unsteady fingers finding his shoulders. "I promise you, you'll regret coming into my house and disrespecting my emblem like that..."

Gods, you were fucking hammered, but since you and your friends-with-benefits had called things off last weekend; you'd been desperate to find someone new to hopefully satisfy you just as well as he did--but admittedly, your hopes were low.

Not many boys knew your body like the back of their hand, or knew exactly how to drive you sexually insane, the way Mattheo fucking Riddle did.

"Is that so?" His grip on your body tightened, a deep groan leaving his throat as he pressed his lips to your jaw. "I'm not quite sure a poor little serpent like you is any match for a big bad raven like me..."

"You'd be surprised," you retorted, slowly threading your fingers through his thick brown hair. "It's been proven that even the most intelligent birds couldn't elude the cunning serpent's snare..." you tilted your head, smirking. "But go on, underestimate me...that'll be fun."

His eyes widened, the darkness inside his pupils boring into you, drowning you in their endless voids. Your stomach twisted as your sight locked in with his, and you took a moment to analyze his features a little better. Gods, he looked so fucking much like Mattheo.

Why was it that you could never seem to get that fucking guy out of your head?

You were convinced that you were going to die one day with his gorgeous fucking face still haunting you--those dark penetrating eyes, that devilish, seductive smirk--that messy mop of chocolate curls that sat effortlessly adorable over his forehead. Fuck, you hated him.

You hated him for fucking you so good you couldn't stop fucking thinking about him; even after the endless bickering and arguing the two of you had been going through over the last few weeks, causing a consensual end to your hookups--you hated him for occupying your mind even while you were pressed up against an undeniably sexy new guy, who clearly had a deep interest in you, who clearly wanted to fuck you until your legs gave out.

You should be happy right now, you should be overly fucking ecstatic, practically brimming with relief as the Ravenclaw guy leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and capturing your mouth in a sloppy, intoxicated kiss; his tongue slipping past your teeth as his hands gripped your ass with enough force to bruise--you should be completely fucking overjoyed as your lids fluttered shut, your mouths working over the others with a little too much desperation as you stood in the middle of the crowded common room, fervent fingers gripping onto each other as though your lives depended on it.

You should be happy, but you're not.

When you broke the kiss, the Ravenclaws brows furrowed, but before he had a chance to ask you to his dorm, and in a hopeful attempt at subtly saving yourself, you brought your lips toward his ear, trying to sound as sexy and inconspicuous as possible. "Why don't you get us some drinks?"

When he smirked, nodding in agreement, he graced your ass with one last squeeze before he spun around, making his way across the room and heading toward the bar station. You watched him as he went, and as soon as he had disappeared within the sea of inebriated bodies; you let out a long, exasperated breath; spinning on your heel to quickly make your way to the bathroom and away from that spot before he returned.

Sure, you felt bad for ditching him like that, but he was just as drunk as you were. He'd forget you even existed by the morning.

As you shoved your way through the endless amounts of drunk, sweaty bodies, you'd almost successfully broke through the crowd when a strong, firm grip wrapped around your wrist; hot breath washing over your neck as a tall body pressed against your backside--a height so towering and presence so intoxicating you already knew, without hearing his voice or seeing his face, that it could only be one fucking man.

"Where you headed, princess?" Mattheo's deep, husky drawl rolled through your eardrums like honey; a slow, thick, and admittedly fucking seductive pitch. "You're not really going to ditch that poor bastard after getting him going like that, are you?"

You turned your head, trying to glimpse him over your shoulder, fighting to hide your smirk. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Riddle."

"Ouch...one week without my cock and we're already back to second name basis, huh?" His grip tightened, his body heat enveloping you, his plush lips pressed tight against your ear. "I'm just surprised...you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"Stalking me, are you?" You scoffed, trying to pry your wrist from his hold but he tightened his grip even further, other hand snaking around to your hip. "Is the big heartless Riddle boy jealous?"

He chuckled, and you could almost see the smirk on his lips. The feeling of his chest rumbling against your back did inexplicable things to your cunt. Gods, you hated how you were already fucking melting for him and you haven't even taken one single look at his face.

"Were you thinking about me?" He purred, teeth nipping at your ear, the arrogance in his tone igniting flames in your veins. "When his tongue was halfway down your fucking throat, were you wishing it was mine?"

"Give me a break, Mattheo." Your head was spinning, oxygen evaporating; but you knew you needed to play it off. "Don't fucking flatter yourself."

"You know you love the things I fucking did to you..." by this point his voice was a low growl, his tone so deep and dark in your ear it sent shudders skittering down your spine. "You know you'll search for me in every single sad sack you try to distract yourself with."

Heat flashed your face, his fingers digging into your hip with enough force to bruise. "Jealous of a Ravenclaw...must be a tough pill to swallow for the Slytherin prince-"

When his teeth sunk into your earlobe with enough force to basically tell you to shut up without actually saying it, you yelped--eyes fluttering shut as he tugged you back against him with added force.

"Keep talking, princess, and I won't hesitate to walk over there and rearrange his fucking face..." he spat the words through barred teeth, your bones shaking with the deep vibration. "Do you even know his name? Huh? Do you even know who the fuck he is?"

Gods, you were cursing yourself. As if you were about to fold for this man after he'd basically told you to fuck off and leave him alone no less than a week ago. Your brain knew, above all else, that what you were about to do was completely fucking wrong--but your cunt paid no mind to your brains protests. Your cunt wanted Mattheo Riddle.

"No, Matty, I don't..." you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access to you neck. "Lots of night left, though...I'm sure I'll be quite familiar with it when I'm screaming-"

He sunk his teeth into your neck now, forcing a sharp squeal from your lips--another commanding gesture to silently warn you that if you kept talking, he was going to fucking lose it. Part of you hoped he would.

"What have I told you about saying my fucking name like that, princess..." he growled, licking a flat strip up the side of your throat. Fuck, you loved that tongue. That skilled, tentative fucking tongue. "And if you keep talking like that, the only thing you'll be screaming is for me to stop when I'm beating his fucking face into the floor..."

His words made you fucking shudder, a full body tremor against his built chest, entirely unable to control yourself now. The need between your thighs was becoming more insistent by the second, and at this point--you were at a complete loss for words; your lips involuntarily uttering the one word you knew you'd never forget how to say, regardless of how speechless you were.

His name. "Mattheo..."

"There she is..." he murmured, the praise in his tone making your breath hitch in your lungs. "Aren't you glad you met me? I know you got me stuck inside your memory..."

Long fingers slipped under the fabric of your shirt, grazing over your stomach. Bodies were everywhere, drunk students around you paying absolutely no mind to the intoxicated sins the two of you were about to commit.

"No," you uttered, so quiet you weren't even sure if he'd heard it. "I want you out of my fucking head..."

He purred in satisfaction, revelling in the fact you'd finally admitted to missing him. "Should've listened to me, princess...told you I was bad for you..."

More heat swarmed you, your thighs screaming; begging in need. "We can't keep doing this...it's so wrong, Matty..."

"But it feels so right, doesn't it?" His hand around your wrist snuck down to your hip, his other pressed against your stomach; pulling you tighter against his crotch--your breath evaporated when you felt his aggressive bulge against your ass. "Feel that, princess? That's what you fucking do to me..."

He pressed his lips to your pulse, teeth softly grazing over it, and you mewled; head falling back against his shoulder, body melting into his own--surrendering yourself to his intoxicating dominance just as you've done time and time before.

"I hate myself for letting you do this to me..." you breathed, head rolling to the side as his teeth worked purple possession marks into your skin. "I'm so stupid for you..."

"That's it, admit it, baby...admit that you missed this..." his grip tightened, tone thickened with lust. "You're my little devil, you know I'd sin for you..."

At his words, your entire body ignited into pure fucking flame, magma replacing the blood that flowed through your veins; threatening to melt your uniform and leaving you in nothing more than a pile of ash at his feet. You were done talking, you needed his fucking cock.

"Are we gonna quit the talking and do something about it then, hm?" You purred, tilting your head back to meet his eyes for the first time; your head spinning as you drowned in the dark hurricane of their desire. "Show me how you'd sin for me, Matty..."

"I'll show you, baby, I'll fucking show you..." he said, wetting his lips as he held your stare. "Your dorm or mine?"

Music to your fucking ears. "Yours."

Without another word, Mattheo gripped your wrist, his hold like a snake, slithering around you gently at first; slowly increasing its pressure until he'd cut the blood flow, threatening suffocation of your lungs and leaving you with only hungry, primal desire--eradicating all thoughts of just how horrible of an idea you knew this was. He dragged you out of the common room and toward his dorm, not sparing you a single glance as he ripped open the door and pulled you inside; slamming your back up against it as it closed, one hand snaking toward the lock and clicking it tight into place.

When he paused, two hands finding residence against the wood on either side of your head; not moving, only staring, it was as though the rest of the world faded away--and all that was left was the cunning, messy brown haired boy in front of you. His presence filled the room, suffocating you, stopping your heart mid-beat. He loomed over you, toes centimeters from your own, chest so close that you both would touch with a deep enough breath.

You scanned his body, heart pounding, palms sweating from the impending reality of your desire, and he smirked, leaning closer.

"I don't think I can allow another man to lay a fucking finger on you ever again..." he whispered. "I don't think that perfect fucking pussy can belong to anyone fucking else."

"Since when did it belong to you, Matty?" You shuddered, deciding to test him a bit. "I thought we were just casual-"

"You think anyone else could fuck you stupid like I do?" You could practically feel his fingernails digging into the wood beside your head, the anger building in his eyes. "How about your exes? How'd they fuck you, huh?"

Your throat tightened. "Mattheo-"

"Say it." He growled, leaning closer--so close your noses brushed. "You want me to make you fucking cum, princess? Say that little pussy is mine."

Gods, curse your fucking insatiable need to get fucked. At this point, you were fully cognizant of the fact that this man could make you say damned-near anything if it meant he'd get inside you. Swallowing your ego, you met his stare--as intense as it had ever felt--and licked your lips.

"It's yours, Matty..." you murmured. "It's all yours."

Mattheo Riddle smirked. "That's fucking right."

Unable to decide between indignant and patronized, you eschewed both, and instead opted to hook your fingers into his belt, pulling yourself into him while you boosted yourself on your tiptoes to meet his lips with your own. Your kiss was hungry and demanding as you sought to memorize his mouth with your tongue. Mattheo's large hands cupped your face, fingers delving into your hair while he pressed into you, forcing you back tighter against the door.

You groaned against his lips, writhing underneath him while you slid your tongue along his teeth, seeking to know every part of him, needing him to want you--to fucking need you like you needed him. Mattheo drew in a breath through his nose and pushed deeper, like he wanted to fuse you with the door, and your hands shot into his hair, a shiver running through you as you felt how soft, how luxurious it was between your fingers.

Another soft groan rumbled in your chest, and--having distant, fuzzy deja vu of the countless encounters prior--you wrapped the curly tendrils of his hair around your fingers and yanked it.

At that, a deep moan left his throat, and he pulled back, waves of harsh breath crashing over him. His blackened eyes darted across your face, switching between your lips and eyes. "Fucking naughty little thing..." he huffed, smirking.

"For you, always," you murmured, and he groaned, wetting his lips as he leaned closer.

"Fuck-that's right...I love it when you're bad...you only act this way for me, huh?" His voice was a low purr, warm breath crashing your face. "That why you didn't fuck him? That why you ran?"

Chewing your lip, you nodded, and tugged his hair again, bringing him to your mouth once more.

He smirked against you and his hands fell to your hips, roaming the swell of your curves before gripping the underside of your thighs and hiking you onto the door. Immediately, the aching length in his pants ground into your center while his tongue fought its way into your mouth. Without you having to think, your legs circled him, and your hips were grinding back, pursuing any friction and heat you could find.

You peeled away to catch a breath, hands resting in his hair, and his lips went to work on your neck, suckling and nibbling the skin there.

"Matty...please..." you murmured, already begging for something, anything. "I need you."

Snuffing a groan, Mattheos grip bruised your hips as he bucked into you, grinding you against the door.

"You want me to fuck you, slut?" he said, breath hot on your neck. "Didn't get enough of my cock last time?"

"No-fuck-I didn't," you mewled, a slight embarrassment washing over you. "It's never enough."

Mattheo growled, his grip hardening to iron, and he licked a warm, wet line along your pulse. "That's right...that's what I like to hear..."

Sinking his teeth into your neck, he pushed off the door, walking over toward his bed as he held you against his chest. You watched the door get further and further away, lust building and growing in your chest as he nipped your jawline before grazing his lips over yours again, softly and briefly as he reached the edge of his mattress and laid you back against it.

When you hit the bed, he kept his mouth on yours while his hands left your waist; fervent fingers finding the fabric of your button up blouse and untucking it from your skirt, cold hands slipping underneath and groping your tits through your bra--a deep groan leaving his chest as you bucked your hips up against his crotch; wanting him closer, needing him closer.

His hands slid back down, finding the hem of your skirt and flipping it up your stomach, wasting zero fucking time before he hooked his thumbs around the band of your thong and peeled them down your thighs. The minute you were exposed, you heard the clatter of his belt buckle hitting the floor, and your pussy throbbed.

"Matty..."

Mattheo chuckled, the weight of his stare resting on your naked pussy; wallowing in your clear desperation for him.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So fucking wet." He released a long breath--he was testing his own patience, now. "This perfect body can't help but to crave me..."

You groaned as he teased your inner thigh with one hand, the other working to peel his shirt off his torso in one swift movement--exposing his hard, firm fucking abs and leaving him looming before you in just black briefs--looking as delicious and sexy as you've ever goddamn seen him.

As his long fingers ghosted over your folds, you arched, groaning when he brushed past it toward the inside of your other thigh; squirming in slight frustration, admittedly the teasing was absolutely getting to you now.

"Mattheo, I swear to-"

A firm, sharp smack to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh stopped the words in your throat; your stomach twisted as you watched Mattheo's eyes darken and lips curl sadistically.

"Is that how I taught you to ask for what you want?" He sneered, wetting his lips as he met your pleading eyes. "You know what I want to hear, princess."

You winced, swallowing your pride furthermore, until it was eroding in your stomach acid. "Please, Matty...please make me cum..."

His lips parted. "Good girl.”

His hum of approval was followed by the warm kiss of his fingertips along the sensitive lips of your pussy, feathersoft at first, and then one thick finger slipped between your folds, gliding between them, slicking itself with your wetness and grazing the swollen nub of your clit. That did it--blinded with relief, you cracked, moaning deep in your chest. Blood flushed your face, tingling your cheeks.

"You like that?" He brushed the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. "You like the way I touch you? The way that pretty pussy responds to me?"

"Yes...Gods, yes..." you replied, the sentence coming without thought.

"That's right..." his free hand wrapped around the back of your thigh, tugging you closer to the edge of the bed, fingers swirling around your clit in tight circles, and you gasped, your mouth dropping in bliss, your rapid panting filling the steamy air.

"Fuck you're so sexy, my dirty little whore in her short little uniform skirt..." a stifled groan cut through his throat, and you shot a glance at him; one hand rubbing his strained erection through his boxers. "It took everything I had not to bend you over the fucking desk in class all week...fuck you know how to test me..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Matty, fuck-please..."

"Please what?" He growled.

Gods, curse him--curse him to bloody hell. You couldn't fucking handle this anymore. You knew he was punishing you, making you fucking beg and shatter and cry for it after what you'd done; and the way his fingers stroked your clit had you spasming, jerking--so close to cumming, you just wanted him inside you.

"Please." You banished all pride and ego and fucking common sense to the perimeter of your mind. Asylum. Just this once. "Please, fuck me...please."

"Tell me I'm the only one." He hissed, slipping a finger inside your wet, throbbing core; your back arching off the mattress as his thumb increased its pace on your clit. "Tell me you'll never let another man put his fucking hands on what's mine."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. Your response was pieced together by the efforts of your need for release alone.

"Fuck-no, never, Matty...I'm yours...all fucking yours..."

He was staring at you, face blank, surveying you while you twitched and jerked underneath his ministrations. His focus switched between your pussy--desperately throbbing and melting against his touch--and your red, sweating face, jaw slack from your haze of pleasure. You chewed your lip--it was bruised by now, certainly--clenching hard, and he groaned, pulling his boxers down to let his thick, needy cock spring free.

"Cum for me, slut." He ordered. "Cum for me right fucking now."

As if controlled by a remote in his hands, a tidal wave of euphoria slammed into you, walls pulsing, body wracked with the convulsions of an aggressively pent up orgasm, vision whiting out as you threw your head back, a loud string of unintelligible curses flying from you. Mattheo hummed, hand working you to the end of your orgasm as his free one slowly stroked his cock, watching every tiny ministration of your face with an exasperated expression until he was certain you were past it.

And when he was, he wasted no fucking time before he gripped your ankles in his hands, staring down at you as he began to rock his hips; his hard, throbbing dick sliding between your slit.

"Tell me you want it," he purred. "Beg for it."

You groaned. "Please, I want it Matty…I want you so fucking bad."

With a goddamn suffocatingly arrogant and devilish grin, he braced himself as he sunk into your pussy; your wet walls swallowing his cock with ease as you let loose a long, satisfied moan--Mattheo sucked a breath in through his bared teeth as sheathed himself all the way inside your cunt, pausing there to feel you clench and adjust around him.

"So fuckin' tight..." he groaned, head bowing. "Fuck you feel so good around me."

Your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers finding Mattheo's hands until he gathered both of your wrists and pinned them above your head with just one of his, leaning over you to fuck you deep and hard as his free hand snuck down to your clit. Throttled cries of pleasure were leaking from you, your conscious slipping from reality as he pummelled your pussy like you deserved the pain.

"Fuck, yes," you practically screamed. "You fuck me so good Matty...so deep, fuck-"

A deep snarl roared from Mattheo's chest, his grip on your wrists tightening while he fucked you deeper, harder, your body rocking from the power of his thrusts. You could feel his ragged breath on your face, knew without seeing him that he was above you, lips parted, pupils blown.

"Look at me," he growled. "Let me see those eyes as you fucking cum for me."

Groaning, you obeyed, lids fluttering open to meet his gaze. Mattheo was possessed, looking past you, through you, panting with every snap of his hips. You lost yourself in his stare, the rest of the room falling away, and his fingers moved faster over your clit, bringing you to that precipice once more. Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you imploded. Mattheo watched you, not even blinking once.

You thought you kept your eyes open, but you weren't sure, because you whited out, spasming and convulsing as your orgasm wracked your every cell, your every nerve, taking you to a height you'd never been to, never thought existed. Distantly, you were aware of your cunt drawing out Mattheo's climax as he cursed and dug his teeth into your shoulder, fucking you harder as he spilled himself deep inside of you.

You hadn't realized what had happened until your spirit returned to your body and you felt the burn of hot, wet tears streaming down your cheeks--evidence of your relief--followed by Mattheo collapsing on top of you, cock buried still inside your pussy, and both of you drank in lungfuls of air, starved for it, your brains fuzzy with the static of euphoria. You both laid there for a moment, rapt in the descent back to reality, until he pushed himself up and pulled out, holding you firmly in his stare again.

As he began to piece his clothes back together, you gathered your composure, pulling yourself up and off his bed, fixing yourself back to some form of decency. As you swallowed, watching Mattheo latch up his belt, he met your eyes again; the dark lust slowly fading, being replaced by an unspoken emotion you couldn't attempt to name.

"This isn't over." He breathed, moving back toward you. "We aren't over."

When your lungs hitched, you nodded, admitting to yourself that you already fucking knew you couldn't live without that. Without him.

"No," you whispered. "We aren't."

#smut #fanfic #harry potter #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheoriddlesmut #tom riddle smut #tomriddle smut #riddle smut #theo riddle #mattheo x y/n #theoriddle #Theo smut #mattheo smut

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diejager · 5 months

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random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝

—🎀—

Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵‍💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.

“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.

And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.

At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.

An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.

Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.

“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”

“Do you want that, Schnucki?”

All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

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drefear · 5 months

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i saw u needed some idea and lemme just say: ex's dad!miguel o'hara

…oh fuck yes.

Tw: cheating, p in v, age gap,

He cheated. He fucking cheated with your roommate. And now here you were, standing in a long dress at his cousin’s wedding two months later. His cousin invited you because you two became close friends, but seeing him bring your old roommate, laughing with her in front of everyone while you didn’t even bring a plus one sucked.

You look up in the mirror as you tap some cold water on the back of your neck, nervous again after seeing him kiss her cheek and then make eye contact with you.

Most of the ceremony is a blur as you can barely focus on anything but keeping your breathing even. Once it’s over, you bee-line for the open bar and quickly down a shot of vodka before hissing at the burn and reaching for a lemon or lime, anything to help with the taste.

Your arm hits something hard and you feel the front of your dress become soaked as you glance to the side to see your ex boyfriend’s father looking down at where his Old Fashioned spilled on your torso. The syrup-sticky-feeling starts to sink in as you feel gross, groaning and imagining how you must look.

“Dios, I’m so sorry.” He apologized and sighs, “this is not the way I wanted to say hello.”

“It’s ok.” You nod and sigh. “I think the bridal suite has a shower in the bathroom.”

“Let me try to clean the dress while you rinse off, yeah?” He asks and you agree, walking together in silence to the bridal suite. As he opens the door for you, he speaks. “I’m sorry about what happened with my son. He’s young, can’t hold onto the good things in his life right now.”

“Sounds like you want to get us back together.” You chuckle, though it feels dry in your throat. “Mr. O’Hara, it’s ok. It wasn’t meant to be.” You deadpan and he gives you an apologetic look, almost pity.

You head into the bathroom and as you begin to shut the door, a hand catches the knob and pushes it open once more. “Do you need help with the zipper?” His voice gets lower as he asks and you turn to see him coming closer, not even fully answering before he forces you around to look in the mirror and starts unzipping the dress. His breath is hot in your ear as he whispers, “my son doesn’t know how to keep a sexy, smart woman.” His words make you shiver as his fingers trance symbols on your back and down to your thong. “Tell me when to stop.”

“Don’t stop.” You reply and he smirks in the mirror at you, watching your eyes flutter closed as he dips his hands into the front of your underwear and rub small circles around your clit.

“Let me taste this pussy, cariño. Wanted to since the first day he brought you home.” He mumbles into your hair and lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the sink, spreading your legs and putting your knees on his shoulders as he groans at the sight of your already wet pussy. “God damn, you even smell good.”

With that, his tongue licks a stripe over your pussy, pushing your thong to the side and flicking his tongue between your folds. Your moan and lean backwards against the mirror as he grinds his nose into your clit, your legs jolting from the sudden feeling. “Good girl, let out those sounds… let me hear you moan, so sweet for me…” his comments make you thrust into his face and make him laugh deeply, then beginning to push his tongue in and out of you at a faster pace.

“Cum on my face.” He instructs you and you oblige, shaking and almost screaming from pleasure. “Good girl.”

It wasn’t your wedding night, but you still celebrated.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 months

Text

.⋆｡What I Cannot Give You｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her

Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort

WC: 2.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.

You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.

“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.”

You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head.

Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.

“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.

“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness.

“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.

“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.

“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.

Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.

Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.

“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.

But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.

“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.

“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.

“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.

“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.

“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.

“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.

You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.

“Then what is?” She implored.

“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.

“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface.

“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.

Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring.

“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.

“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.

“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.

Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.

——————

Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.

Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.

Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.

Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.

You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward.

And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.

“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.”

“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside.

In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.

“Steve-“

“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.

He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.

“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.

“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.

You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.

His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.

His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.

“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”

“But Sharon-“

“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”

Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.”

“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.

“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.

“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.

“That’s my good girl.”

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pucksandpower · 7 days

Text

Don’t Touch Her

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out

Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character

You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.

“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”

You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”

“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.

While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.

Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.

You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.

Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.

“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”

The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.

“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.

“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.

The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.

Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.

“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.

“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.

As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”

You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”

Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.

After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.

“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”

You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.

***

Beeping.

Hushed voices.

The astringent scent of disinfectant.

You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.

Lando’s face, streaked with tears.

Dancing bodies.

Pulsing lights.

The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.

With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.

“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”

You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.

“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.

Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”

Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.

“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”

He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.

“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”

Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.

“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”

He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.

After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.

“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.

You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”

His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.

When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.

You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.

When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.

“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”

You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”

He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”

Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.

“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.

Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”

You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.

But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.

He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.

***

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.

When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.

Lando notices your change in demeanor.

“What is it, love?”

“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”

You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”

You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.

“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”

“Did I what?”

“Have something to do with this?”

Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”

“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”

He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”

You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”

“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”

You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”

Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”

“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”

He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”

You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”

Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”

Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”

His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.

“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.

“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.

You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”

Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.

Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.

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sjyuns · 7 months

Text

🗒️ 、 INTENTIONS

popular sunghoon x fem reader 1535 words genre fluff mikaela’s note because sunghoon is so tristan dugray coded, inspired by a gilmore girls scene

“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” Sunghoon mumbles, and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

He holds your gaze confidently, with a tinge of arrogance as his tongue darts out to lick his lip. You think that Sunghoon is the most annoying person in the world, because how can he look so devilishly handsome and have such an intoxicating effect on you.

It all started when he showed up unannounced and uninvited to your birthday party — still in his school uniform, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up with his blazer hanging over his shoulder.

And you should have known better than to let him charm his way into your house. “What are you doing here, Hoon?”

He loves the way his nickname rolls off the tip of your tongue, it's so addictive and he wants to record it so that he can play it again and again, even if your tone is one of spite.

“Happy birthday princess,” Sunghoon completely ignores your words, taking steps closer towards you, “now, where’s my birthday kiss?”

He’s at it again, aimlessly flirting with you. You roll your eyes, a deep sigh exiting your mouth, “it’s my birthday, Hoon.” How did he even know where you lived? You were sure you told everyone you invited not to bring him along.

“So I’ll give you a birthday kiss,” he grins, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches your facial expressions fall, ears burning red as you quickly turn around.

You hate Park Sunghoon and the unimaginable hold he has on you. “I’m going to find my mother. Do not, I swear to god, cause any trouble.”

“Your mother? It’s a little early in the relationship,” he moves swiftly to your side, arms casually slinging over your shoulder as he pulls you closer into him forcefully. “But it’s okay, I’m ready.”

Where in the world does Sunghoon get his cocky attitude from, you think as you try your best to pry and lift his arm away from your shoulder. Despite your surface indifference towards his advances, there were millions of butterflies invading your stomach at his every single action.

Before you can even try to escape, a voice calls your name and you stop to talk to Yunjin. “Park Sunghoon? What are you doing here?”

Sunghoon steals a glance at you, and he thinks you look absolutely adorable as you pout at the image of multiple people seeing you with him; given how you always seemed to have complaints about his overly flirty nature and playboy ways.

But Sunghoon hasn’t fooled around since you transferred into Decelis two months ago, a personal record for him. At first all you were was a form of entertainment, someone who had cute reactions to his smooth pick up lines.

Then it all came crashing down, when he started to feel the need to bicker with you everyday and mess up your hair every time he sees you in the hallways. And somewhere in between the blurred lines, he fell in love.

“Here to celebrate my girl’s birthday,” he cocks his head towards you, who’s palms now cover your face in sheer embarrassment. God, now it’s going to spread like wildfire. His girl?

Yunjin’s eyes widen and jaw drops, “really? You guys are together? But I thought you were with Choi Soobin.” She asks, nudging you.

Sunghoon frowns at her words. Choi Soobin? Since when? Sunghoon literally follows you around school whenever he sees you, and he’s never seen you ever talk to that boy.

“Soobin and I are just friends,” you clarify, “also we are not a couple,” your finger gesturing to you and Sunghoon as you answer the girl.

“Tomorrow we’ll be a couple,” Sunghoon cuts back into the conversation, voice loud, and he catches your surprised expression as he smirks slyly.

Though he continues the conversation without a single stutter or break, Sunghoon’s feeling utterly disgusted. Is that the kind of boy you like? Nerdy losers who can’t do anything for the life of themselves? He doesn’t really like the thought of turning into those types of boys, but whatever you want, he thinks — he’s already practised abstinence for you, he might as well go all the way.

At the same time Sunghoon wonders if you’re really that oblivious to his obvious advancements towards you. He’s made it crystal clear: dumped his girlfriend, follows you around, talks about you literally all the time, and yet you’re still clueless.

And he whisks you away before you find the chance to clarify his words again. He’s determined this time round, to make it extremely straightforward for you.

“Hoon why in the world would you say stuff like that,” you groan, hands slapping his chest. And he grins like an idiot at your touch, if this was what it took for you to initiate skinship with him, he’d be more than willing to proclaim himself as your boyfriend any day.

He places a hand on the place you’d just hit, “it’s painful,” he pouts, and you almost feel a little guilty at your harsh actions, “can you kiss it better?”

Until that. You huff, “i’m leaving,” you announce as you turn away, ready to walk right back into the crowd. Sunghoon quickly clasps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

Your eyes become those of a deer caught in headlights as your body is pressed firmly against his, his arms finding their way to your waist; a gentle but firm hold as he bends down.

“Wasn’t done yet, princess,” he smirks, and you feel some sort of danger looming over because Sunghoon looks like a devil enticing you to commit sin. His black hair styles perfectly like always and his red tie, due to his excessive movements, is now dropping down even more to expose his honey skinned collarbones.

The most you can muster is a mumble, “what,” and your eyes are glassy as you stare up at him, he thinks he might go insane — so close to just moving in to place a kiss on your invitingly soft lips.

“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” and he literally spits the term out, unable to believe he’s labelling someone else other than him ‘your boyfriend’. He knows you guys aren’t together, but just for the comfort of his heart he has to hear it again.

It takes you a while before you process his words. “He’s not my boyfriend, Hoon,” and it’s that short statement coupled with the way you say his name that really breaks it for him.

Sunghoon moves in just as you finish your sentence, and he sinks into your pillowy lips. It’s paradise on earth and he thinks he will never be able to get enough of this feeling.

“Sunghoon,” you mumble when he breaks the kiss, slightly out of breath as you look up with hazy eyes.

He chuckles, “sorry, baby, my bad. I’ll return your kiss back,” and Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to give you another kiss, fingers caressing your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

This time it’s you who breaks the kiss, way too out of breath to even form full sentences without a few breaks in between. “You just kissed me.”

“Right, I just did that baby,” he smiles, those tiny fangs of his showcased as he gazes adoringly at you. “Actually, I’m looking for a girlfriend.” He pauses, eyeing your flushed cheeks and pink lips, “you looking for a boyfriend by any chance, princess?”

Now that you’re literally glued onto Sunghoon, you take the chance to look at him. Sharp nose, pretty moles that you could probably trace along all day, and his eyes which contrasting to his calm demeanour, held anxiousness as he waited for you to answer.

You’ve thought about dating Sunghoon before. Multiple times. Way more than you should’ve. And you never wanted to ever confess to it, because he was everyone’s crush. And not only that, he was annoying — constantly teasing you and making you flustered by his actions. You’d curse every time your heartbeat started to accelerate at his flirty words. You had thought that there was no way he’d ever like you back.

“I’m looking for a boyfriend,” you admit, letting out a soft giggle at Sunghoon’s overjoyed expression. And you decide that maybe now’s the time to get back at him, tease him a little to get him to stay on his toes, “maybe I should go find Soobin.”

His shoulders drop almost immediately and his arms wrap around your waist securely, chin resting on the top of your head. “No fucking way,” he grumbles, “you’re my girlfriend now. And I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, you are,” you say, voice muffled in the embrace of Sunghoon. And you hear him giggle slightly, the rumble of his chest exposing the boyish feelings your boyfriend was currently going through, “for now.”

Sunghoon lifts his chin from your head, fingers brushing over your cheeks before they land themselves on your jaw. He tilts your chin up, “too bad my intention is forever.” And he places a chaste kiss on your lips again and again.

You are in for a long ride.

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 months

Text

You Left & I Didn't Wait. - LN

Summary: Lando planned his winter break as one long boys' trip. Y/n and Lando weren't official or serious. So she didn't feel she had any right to comment. But when Lando feels jealousy hit him like a punch to the gut, maybe he has some grovelling to do.

Warnings: Some slut-shaming from and to both Lando and y/n. Reckless drinking leading to alcohol poisoning (drink responsibility kids, but also don't drink until your countries legal age bc I don't condone law breaking)

Admittedly it really sort of stung when Lando was telling y/n about his plans for his winter break and he seemed to have planned to not see her at all. But she had to remind herself of the reality.

What her and Lando had was better duped as a "situationship" as much as she despises that entire concept.

God does dating in this age suck. Fuck everyone who moved dating online.

Y/n thankfully had her girls who all supported her through being strong and single through the holidays (aka the worst time to be single because family won't ever shut up about it) and then after New Year, y/n decided to get out on the prowl.

Sure she really let the most eligible young F1 driver slip from her grasp. But it's a new year.

"God you look so gorgeous." Y/f/n states then looking over y/n's shoulder. "And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Get on this counter. We're about to let a man do a body shot off of you."

Now if y/n hadn't consumed the equivalent of near a whole bottle of vodka and could actually see straight, then she might just have said no. But that wasn't the case, there's probably more vodka in her than blood and the room has been a blur in front of her since they flirted their way into the club since the bouncer was telling them to go home.

"Hey! Hey! Can you help my friend up? We're doing body shots." Y/f/n shouts to the guy that has been watching y/n from across the bar.

Y/n wouldn't be surprised if he actually was watching because he has a bet of which one of the women will either pass out or get themselves kicked out first. Body shots could well and true be the final pull of the trigger for either of those outcomes.

Y/n isn't really sure what sequence of events follow other than y/f/n taking a video of a man licking up from dangerous low on her tummy then slurping the tequila from her belly button. Whether it's the sensation of liquid being sucked from her very liquid heavy tummy or the sudden realisation she has no attraction to this man, but her stomach revolts in protest.

Another blur and she's having her hair held back as she kneels in front of the dingy club toilets. Even the high end expensive club toilets aren't fun to have your face close to. But that's where she is with not y/f/n holding her hair back but some random woman, presumably she'd been in the toilets and noticed y/n needed aid.

Y/n is sick till she notices red and forces herself to stop. No doubt just blood from the sheer amount of alcohol, acid and straining.

"Thank you." Y/n pants before she's yanked up, grateful to get up off the floor.

She loses herself wandering around the club till y/f/n appears out of nowhere. Y/n ends up being pulled along with a couple other men, neither of which licked y/n's belly button tonight so she's counting them as a win and actually with some alcohol gone from her system. She does find that one of them is particularly attractive.

Maybe the rebound sex would be great and she's sobered quite a bit.

Thudding brings y/n from the realm of dead back to the living and initially y/n lies sprawled out on her floor like a star. Is it even her floor? She's not sure till she finally pries her eyes open and snaps them closed again before making a second attempt.

"Fuck me." Y/n groans rubbing her eyes harshly.

"I did. A few times. I think." A very vaguely familiar voice states making her push up onto her elbows and find there's a man lying on her floor.

At least she knows it's her place.

"You said you wouldn't have sex on fresh sheets so we slept on the floor." the guy states but her face reads easily and he smiles with a small chuckle. "I'm Tom and you're, y/n. Just in case you forgot your own name too."

"Amazing-what the fuck is that noise? What is thudding? Can you hear that?"

"Pretty sure it's a guy at your door. Your phone has been going off for a while now."

Y/n grunts getting up and throwing some clothes at the guy, making it obvious she's throwing him out and he's not invited to stay for breakfast.

"Get dressed." She instructs just to make herself clear.

Her body aches. She somewhat remembers falling down a flight of stairs. Probably the stupid fire escape, y/n always insists on being able to climb the stairs while drunk.

After a minute of stumbling through her apartment, walking into furniture, walls and almost smacking herself in the face when she lets the door swing open.

"Can I help y-Lando?" Y/n chokes out seeing the driver not hiding his emotions as he pushes into her apartment. "Hey, you can't just let yourself in. I have company."

"Yeah, I can tell." Lando scoffs gesturing to her wearing a lace bralet and shorts which she'd managed to find and pull on during her journey from her bedroom floor to the front door. "We need to talk."

"Now's not really a good-fucking hell." Y/n gasps when a hand hits her ass cheek through the thin white shorts. Before she can get another word out, a finger has hooked her chin and turned her face and she's caught in a sloppy kiss before he pulls back.

"Sorry, had to get one last taste." Gross. She's almost certain what ever she tastes of must at least have some sort of hint of vomit.

"Yeah, um bye Tom. Get home safe."

One last wink is shot her way and he seems to not acknowledge Lando at all which while is probably a wise decision, she can't help but think is pretty rude too.

The door closes and she looks to Lando who has a simmering rage behind his eyes.

"So...we're dating other people?" Lando questions and if y/n had the energy such a question would've landed him with the nearest object to her being thrown at his head.

"I'm not dating him. He was a one night stand." Y/n dismisses while moving away from Lando in search of water, painkillers and maybe some left over pizza that she somewhat recalls purchasing last night. So long as she didn't eat it all. "He was the collateral damage of a girls night out gone rogue."

"So you're going around hooking up with every guy and more that sets his sights on you." Lando scoffs as she pops two painkillers and tosses them back with a mouthful of water. But not even her hospital worthy hangover can continue to snuff out the flames of her anger at such a comment.

"You think I haven't heard the rumours of every fucking bitch you've spent the night with in your lads' trip? Not only multiple women, some two at a time. If it didn't currently make me sick to my stomach I'd applaud you for the pull." Y/n laughs dryly, no humour in her tone as she glares at him.

"I-Those rumours are bullshit." Lando declares earning an eye roll. "I kissed a girl and that's it and it was a mistake."

"Honestly, Lando. It doesn't matter what you did. We-" Y/n gesture between themselves. "-are just friends."

"What?" Lando snaps practically seething at the mere suggestion. "-What the fuck makes you think that?"

Would throwing a plate at his head gain an assault charge if she said he entered the property without permission?

They're both in a rage at each other, but y/n has a massive disadvantage but truly she is so unwell physically.

"You left! You left, Lando. And you didn't call, you didn't text. I was a side piece that you tossed away when you had better things to do with people you preferred the company of. Did you think I was going to wait for you to come back and welcome you with open arms after nearly two months of being ignored and forgotten about? Why don't I just have MUG tattooed on my forehead so you and every other person in the world knows exactly how I apparently want to be treated?"

Y/n can feel her stomach disagreeing with the addition of painkillers and water.

"Can you just leave? I'm-I'm not well and you're making it worse."

Y/n wretches before an alarming bright red liquid spills from her mouth as she uses the counter as support.

"Jesus, y/n." Lando gasps before watching her slide down against the cupboard, narrowly avoiding the puddle of red. "What the fuck did you drink? How much?"

"I don't know. The better part of a bottle before we got to the club...there was a lot of guys buying drinks-"

"Just wait there."

Honestly, her consciousness is dipping. She's exhausted, her body feels like a thousand tones are keeping her pinned to the floor and by the time Lando returns from wherever he'd gone. He gets to just short of stopping her head slide quickly down against the cupboard door and land on the ground with a sickening crack.

Lando puffs out a breath as the nurse leaves him with a newly conscious y/n. She has been out for 3 hours after hitting her head. As if her brain needed anymore damage since the amount of alcohol in her system even after being sick had given her alcohol poisoning.

"Fucking hell. I'm never letting y/f/n convince me I need a rebound night again." Y/n grimaces while rubbing at the large bump on her head.

"The doctor said you'll be alright. They just want to keep you for a bit for observation." Lando sighs making her nod. "For the record, I'm sorry...everything you said, you were right to be upset and angry."

Lando hates that she's right, because he knows that none of this would've happened if he hadn't been so damn inconsiderate.

"I want to say you should've said something, but I know I didn't really give you much of a chance." Lando murmurs then standing up and moving to kiss her but she turns her head frowning as he cheeks instead landing on her cheek. "I'll be back in a bit."

Y/n knows a lot of people would kill to have Lando Norris grovelling and apologising for his actions. But in reality, a sorry doesn't change the amount of hurt she's felt over the past 2 months and right now her head is the last thing she's thinking about.

She doesn't really know what "I'll be back in a bit" translates to, but she decides to just wallow and fall into a sleep. Even with painkillers, the dull ache of any movement and the throbbing of her head can't go so easily ignored.

"Y/n...wake up."

"Jesus, don't you know how to leave bad enough alone?" Y/n nearly whines as she forces her eyes open then spotting what Lando did, and there's a couple nurses at the doorway. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

A banner saying "I'm the stupidest man alive, but will you be my girlfriend?" with Lando standing with a nervous looking smile and more balloons than y/n has ever seen in her life fill the room.

"I fucked up. I'm sorry, please let me make it up to you."

Y/n looks at him in awe of his actual courage to leave, then come back and pull this off.

"Alright, you're a muppet but I wasn't broken up about losing you for nothing. Not going to slip on that again." Y/n states making him grin and move towards her finally getting a kiss which doesn't last nearly as long as he wanted it to. "You didn't happen to get to to agree to let me go home, did you?"

"You can go home, but you do have to be kept an eye on." The nurse confirms from the doorway.

"So, I'm on full-time boyfriend duty from the get go." Lando grins while she grimace since Lando is a great guy, but trusting him to play nurse is not something y/n is eager to throw herself into.

"Great." She hums looking at the nurses while smile, clearly just happy to have been a part in getting the two together.

After taking a while to clear up the balloons and banner, which y/n does insist on taking home. When they get to her apartment, she grimaces seeing the towel thrown over the that concerns congealed puddle that Lando presumbly made a weak attempt at somewhat cleaning up.

"I got it." Y/n states since it's her who drank herself to such a disastrous state.

"Y/n, you're concuss. Go lie down." Lando instructs making her look at him for a moment before she sighs as she watches him clean up in the most unorthodox way but she doesn't comment since he's trying and she'll give him credit for that. "Done, now...I'm going to run you a bath and we can get you properly cleaned up."

Admittedly, Lando has been going above and beyond. Her body is completely healed, and Lando's hands on approach has yet to really ease up. But with the impending F1 season. He does have to actually get to work and leave her.

"You have to go. Go on." Y/n laughs before she hugs him tightly, not actually giving any sign that she's going to loosen her hold. But equally, Lando really isn't fighting her on it, holding her just as tightly.

"Wish I could just shove you in my pocket and bring you with me."

"Now that would be impressive. Ok, I'll let you go. I got my own shit to sort out. Text me that you get there safe."

"I will." Lando murmurs before leaning forward and kissing her several times. "Let me know what you're doing and if you're going out, just I'll pick you up if I'm heading back before you are."

Lando realised how much y/n meant to him when he had to drive her to the hospital for help, he realised that he loved her in the week following that where he spent every second of the day fussing over her. Y/n is honestly his dream girlfriend and while she's been recovering from head trauma and alcohol poisoning, she's made the effort to let Lando know this isn't going to be a one-sided relationship.

Now they just have to see how going into the season goes. But safe to say Lando intends to have her around a lot.

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months

Note

Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).

heart to heart.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.

oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3

songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco

warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader

1.4k words

you’ve been friends for years.

sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.

you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.

“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.

“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.

“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.

“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.

you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.

pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.

“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.

“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.

time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.

“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.

“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.

“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”

and he does.

you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.

“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.

two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.

lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.

“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.

you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.

“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”

“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.

“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.

“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.

“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.

“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.

“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.

“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.

finally.

“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.

“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.

shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.

you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.

“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.

“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.

“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.

the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.

but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.

“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.

he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.

when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.

you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.

“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”

“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.

“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.

i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane

removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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krkiiz · 4 months

Text

take a chance with me . luke castellan x reader

you decide to confront luke about your current situationship with him.

luke castellan x f!reader , reader is the daughter of Athena , crack , misunderstandings , “what are we” , “i thought we’re already dating” , fluff with slight angst , overthinking , kisses , them being sappy , nicknames

note : can’t stop falling in love with this evil betrayer smh. inspired by niki’s song “take a chance with me” ! (IM SORRY IF THIS IS CRINGE this is my first time writing kiss scenes help 😭😭😭😭)

let me know your thoughts ! likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated <3

“It’s getting dark. Let me walk you back to your cabin, yeah?” The dark haired boy smiled at you.

Gods how you loved that smile of his.

It’s a tradition of yours. Him walking you back to your cabin after your outings. The two of you walk hand in hand as your near the Athena cabin.

You and Luke had been acquainted for quite some time. You both first met when you arrived in camp for the first time.

You were fifteen back then. Time passed by as fast Zeus’ lightning strikes as summers blurred after summers. In a blink of an eye, you guys were both eighteen now. Adults, no longer those carefree teenagers that relied on your counselors.

During those three years of friendship, you and Luke only got closer. It was hard to admit, and after an excruciating time of denial (and constant pestering from your half siblings including Annabeth), you finally surrendered and admitted the growing feelings you harbored for your close friend.

You’re too afraid to confess your feelings as you treasured your friendship with him deeply. You would gush about how sweet he is to Annabeth, rolling yourself on your bed as blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of him.

Little did you know he was doing the exact same thing. Confiding to Annabeth about your recent encounters, eyes lit up rivaling the shine of Apollo himself as he thinks of you.

Poor girl. Annabeth was sick of it.

But this summer, you felt a shift in your dynamic with the curly haired boy. He would eat lunch with you more often, asking you to go on more hangouts, challenged you on more duels, battles. It felt different, closer.

You were not complaining, matter of fact you were quite glad. Maybe your feelings wasn’t just one sided after all.

But as time move forwards, the closer you two get, more couple-ey interaction commends. He would tuck your hand behind your ear as you both converse, intwining your hands when your in the same path, calling you nicknames.

The more your relationship with him progressed, the more it blurred the line between friends and more. At this point, you knew he had feelings for you as well, and he too was well aware of yours.

A bubble of thought soon started clouding your mind. What were you both now? Friends? Close friends? Lovers? You don’t remember Luke asking you to be his girlfriend.

What was the nature this relationship?

You feel his grip on yours loosening as you stopped near the grey building of Cabin 6. “This is it for you, princess.”

Words rolled of his tongue like honey and you felt like a honeybee, drawn to its sweetness.

Friends don’t call each other nicknames.

Luke placed a gentle hand on your cheek, drawing closer has he placed his lips on your temple, as if he was kissing your thoughts away. “What’s got you thinking so hard since we started walking, hm?”

Your cheeks lit up like campfire at his action, he smiled noticing your flushed state.

Cute

You look up to the curly haired boy, his fingers still pressed on your cheek. What are we, Luke?

What if Luke suddenly doesn’t want you anymore because of that question?

Were you too selfish by wanting more?

Was this not enough for you?

No it wasn’t. You want to draw a clear like between friends and more, and Luke and you were shoveling a deep hole in the middle of said line.

What if he fears commitment and disappears?

“Oh no, it’s nothing Luke.” You shook your head away from his grasp, pushing all your thoughts away. “It’s late, I should probably get in.”

But before you can turn away from him, Luke was quick to grab your hand, not letting you go any further. “No, Yn. Something is clearly bothering you. And I don’t want you to go to bed with an unpleasant feeling.”

He squeezed your held hands. “Please, Yn. Is it something I’ve done?”

You were quick to deny him. “It’s not, Luke. I don’t even know it’s just. I don’t know, confusing? I think complicated is the right word.”

The dark haired boy brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing your forearm softly. “It’s okay take your time, darling. I’m listening.”

You sighed seeing him caress your hand gently as he brushed his lips on the skin. “It’s about us, Luke.”

Dark hues make contact with your own. “What about us?”

“What are we Luke? I don’t even know anymore.” You retracted your hand from his grasp, frustration getting a hold on you. “Friends don’t hold hands while they walk, friends don’t kiss each other’s foreheads, or hands, or even call each other nicknames.”

You look up to see the confusion written clearly on his face. “What are we, Luke Castellan?” You asked once more.

There was a moment of silent and you dreaded it. Each passing second you can hear the rustling wind, chirps of birds, and the sound of your heart falling into your stomach.

Before he finally broke it. A wholehearted chuckle graced his lips, creasing his eyes.

You scrunched your eyebrows at his reaction. Clearly displeased. Were you some joke to him?

“Luke, this is serious, why are you laughing right now?”

He quickly straightened his composure after hearing your tone. “Ehem, wait sorry. You’re serious? Is this what you’ve been worrying about?”

“Well yeah. What’s so funny about it? Am I just some joke to you?”

“No no! Yn, wait.” He placed both of his hand above your shoulders. Eyes peered at yours before genuinely asking. “Haven’t we been dating for like two months now?”

What? Confusion warps your face.

“Yn, remember? Two months ago when I took you on a picnic by the lake? I asked if you wanted to be together and you agreed to it, remember?” He tried to recall your memory.

Then it snapped.

“Oh, that was a confession? I thought you meant it in a friendly way.” Luke mentally face palmed himself and you sheepishly giggled.

“Okay maybe I was too vague with my words so let’s redo it right now yeah?” You tilted your head at him.

The dark haired boy took both of your hands from your sides, lacing them into his. “Yn L/n, daughter of Athena, one of the best warriors I’ve ever seen, wisest and the most just ever, will you take the pleasure of being my girlfriend?”

You unwind your laced fingers, your hands moving, circling themselves around the nape of his neck as his hands are now placed on the sides your waist, drawing you closer. “Hm will I?” You teased him lightly.

“Please?”

“I guess you got yourself a girlfriend, Castellan.”

You laughed against his chest. And you can feel his ribcage expanding was he laughed along with you.

You tilt your head above, standing on the tips of your toes, as you pulled him even closer than before. Your noses touch at the proximity and you could feel his breath on yours. “Is this why you’ve never kissed me before?” you hear him whisper.

“Well I am doing it right now.” You pull him in, his lips crashing with your own. His grip on your waist tightened as your hands made its way to the softness of his curls. Eyes tightly shut as you both bask in the bliss of ecstasy before pulling apart.

He leaned his forehead against yours. Giving your lip a small peck as he craves for more of you. “I don’t know if this is not obvious yet but I like you, so so much, my Yn.”

You softly giggled. “I like you just as much, my prince.”

©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x you #percy jackson #pjo tv show #pjo series #luke x reader

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shewroteaworld · 7 months

Text

I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't

Premise: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you.

Word count: approx. 3,200

TW: Brief mention of vomit and, perhaps, hospitals

(Y/N/N): Your nickname

Author's Note: Super excited to introduce brilliant sunshine!reader (aka, super smart sunshine!reader) onto my fanfic writing scene! Definitely willing to write more of her in the future if anyone is interested. Hope you enjoy!

“Does anybody have more water?”

“Where is the damn ambulance?”

Perhaps your job classically conditioned you to respond to Hotch’s “I’m seriously not fucking around” tone because your eyes crack open.

Someone put weights on your eyelids and cranked the sun to extra-bright. The harsh rays burned your retinas and washed everything in a white blur. Did someone set off a flash bang?

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” Miraculously, out of the screeching white, you made out JJ’s halo of blonde hair.

“JJ?” You groaned. Even though you could barely see, it felt like the whole world was spinning,

“Hotch, she’s coming around!” You recognized Morgan’s voice. “Welcome back to the world of the living, honey. We’re happy to see you.”

Your heart rate spiked. You never died. Did you die?

“Yes, we still need a medic!” Hotch barked.

You winced. “Wha?” Suddenly, your mouth couldn’t handle a one-syllable world. Even more alarming, your brain, the same brain that kept up with Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid, couldn’t understand what the hell was going on.

“What I do?” You whined.

“He’s not yelling at you, honey,” JJ said like a kindergarten teacher. “You’re just a little out of it right now.”

“Is she conscious?” Another voice entered. Your head spun. “I brought more water.”

You moaned to suppress a gag. Your eyelids drooped, and you relished in the break from the light.

“Hey, smarty pants, stay with us.” Morgan pat your cheek. “Let Emily get some water in you.” You couldn’t force your eyes open more if you tried.

Your friend Emily. That’s who the voice belonged to.

Suddenly, JJ pulled your hair from your face, Morgan lifted your head, and Emily forced a water bottle to your lips simultaneously. The blinding glare seared your eyes and your head spun. You wanted to sob and maybe vomit.

Your chest hitched with a shallow inhale. “Stop.” You whined.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” JJ said.

“No!” You exclaimed.

“Honey–” Morgan tried.

You thrashed against his hold, but your exhausted muscles couldn’t throw Morgan’s gentlest grip.

“Maybe we should let her go.” Emily said.

“She needs water.” JJ countered.

“She’s disoriented.” Hotch cut in. “Let her get her bearings first, but don’t let her close her eyes.”

Gingerly, Morgan lay your body back on the grass. Your head swam, and your vision rippled as if you could see the heat waves in the California air. You tried to take a deep breath but choked.

You sputtered. Every inhale led to a series of dry coughs. In your delirium, you thought of Spencer. Your Spencer. Where the hell was he? Did he not love you anymore?

Suddenly, Hotch loomed over you. His tall frame blocked out the brutality of the sun’s glare, which eased your headache and nausea but not your cough. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed they formed a trench of wrinkles across his forehead. “Check her airway.”

Suddenly, you stared into JJ’s blue eyes. Other hands tried to manipulate your body. You jerked.

“(Y/N), relax.”

“Honey, please–”

“Turn her on her side!” Morgan’s cut off by Reid, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard.

***

Spencer Reid has survived many traumatic situations.

He's cared for his schizophrenic mother. He’s been kidnapped. He recovered from a drug addiction. And those are just a few items from his dissertation-length “PTSD-Causing Experiences” list.

But many of his worst traumas were a by-product of being a profiler– a job which allowed him to utilize his intellect to help others. He was willing to accrue trauma like Pokemon cards in exchange for applying his genetic gifts to create a safer world.

Reid could have framed your heat exhaustion as another scare in the line of duty. But when Reid saw you, his brilliant girl, on the ground, his heart fell through his feet.

Then, he saw how his the team responded to your medical emergency.

When he witnessed you coughing and writhing on your back as the team leered over with water, he thought he might explode.

You could be asphyxiating, and the team could be letting you choke while forcing more fluid down your throat.

He shivered as he sprinted down the steps of the local precinct and onto the grassy field where you lay.

“Turn her on her side!” He yelled as diagnoses and courses of action fled through his mind on hyperspeed.

“We’re trying, she—”

“Spence?” You choked out through a coughing fit. He’s surprised his ears caught it.

Reid knelt next to you. “Let’s get you into recovery position.” He said, his voice suddenly soft as clouds. Reid gingerly pushed you onto your left side. “Off your back, there we go.” He bent your right leg and slid it in front of your body to prevent you from rolling onto your stomach if you lost consciousness.

“Did she faint?” Reid asked the team. He couldn’t take his eyes from your face.

“We think so. She was dizzy, so she laid on the ground. Then she was unresponsive for at least 40 seconds,” Emily said.

Spencer pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Predictably, you were feverishly hot. “She’s burning up. Has someone called an ambulance?”

“Allegedly.” Hotch said, an edge to his voice.

“We have, sir. They’re on their way.” A local police officer responded, exasperated.

Spencer’s eye twitched. “How long has she been down?” You whined, and he stroked your cheekbone with his thumb.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He whispered.

“In total, 15 minutes.” Hotch supplied. “Emily, pour some more water on her.”

“This was for her to drink.”

“Use one bottle to pour on her face and neck.” Spencer said. “I ran and got Gatorade. She should start with sips of that when she can swallow. Heat stroke can also be caused by salt depletion.”

Spencer was conversing with a local officer over the safety protocols in the area when a pair of policemen walked into the precinct, gossiping about the FBI agent who “folded fast in the southern Cali heat.”

Spencer’s jaw had clenched. Maybe one of his team members was ill since they put in most of the grunt work to catch the unsub. He would’ve been more annoyed if not for the worry gnawing at his brain. What if they were talking about (Y/N)? She looked a little shaky right after her chase with the unsub, but Spencer didn’t get a chance to ask his friend if she was alright. And, stupidly enough, he forgot to text her to check if she drank any water post-case. Quickly, Reid excused himself, grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, and rushed to the field where your limp body trembled on the grass.

“I’m going to pour some water on you, honey," Emily said. You flinched as the frigid water hit your hairline.

“Breathe, relax.” Spencer said, shielding your nose. The last thing you needed was some accidental waterboarding.

Seconds after the water drenched your forehead, your whole body relaxed into the grass. “That felt good.” You smiled weakly.

Spencer stroked your arm. “Let’s sit you up in a minute, okay? You should try some Gatorade before the EMTs get here.”

“EMTs? I’m fine.” You whined.

Spencer didn’t think it was possible for his eyebrows to crease further.

“You’re not fine.” Gentler, he said, “and it’s okay not to be fine, sunlight.”

“But, I’m alive.” You tried to roll onto your stomach, but your bent leg kept you safe on your back.

Some on the team members chuckled, but Spencer didn’t find your delirium humorous. “I know you’re alive, sweetie. But you’re way too hot. I think you’re a little confused right now.”

“I’m just…” You winced. “I’m alive.”

The knot in Spencer’s chest tightened ten-fold. This could be heat stroke. At the very least, you had heat exhaustion. You were dehydrated. You were delirious.

Best case scenario: you were ill for a few days. Worst case scenario: You had vital organ damage.

Just as he’s about to call 911 himself, JJ interrupted him. “Look–ambulance lights. Help is on the way, honey.”

“You hear that, (Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine.” Morgan said. If only Spencer felt that confident.

“Spence…” You blocked your eyes from the light with your limp right hand. “I’m scared. I don’t feel well.”

“Oh, (Y/N), I know.” He cupped your shoulder and hoped you could feel his love for you through his palm. That sent a jolt down his spine. He wasn’t supposed to comfortably think those thoughts about you.

You were sick. This wasn’t the time. He leaned over your body. He gave you plenty of breathing room, but his torso was parallel to your hip so his eyes could meet your watering ones. “Hey, take a breath for me, Smartie.”

Your nickname for him slipped from his tongue so easily it spooked him. Suddenly, he noticed his thumb stroking over your cotton t-shirt. He should stop. The whole team was watching. He was being was too intimate; he'd face stupid quips from Morgan for days. He kept stroking anyway.

He observed your chest rise and fall. Your breaths were shaky but deeper. He relaxed a tad. Vital oxygen was reaching your bloodstream.

“(Y/N), can we try something?” Spencer asked.

“Yes. Maybe. What is it?”

The knot in his chest loosened. You responded immediately and with more than two words; you were becoming more lucid.

“Can you sit up and have some sips of Gatorade? I got your favorite flavor. At least, if your favorite flavor hasn’t changed from three years ago.” It most likely hadn’t. Once your opinion settled, it was frustratingly hard to erode your verdict.

“I can’t…I don’t know.”

“I know sitting up is hard. I’ll help you. And I’ll prop you against my chest. I’ll hold your weight when you can’t.”

“KK, Spence.” Your childlike tone tugged at his heart strings.

Spencer and Morgan lifted your limp body from the ground. They manhandled you into a sitting position with your head propped on Spencer’s shoulder and your body tucked between his thighs.

One of his arms stabilized you while the other raised a cold bottle of orange Gatorade to your lips.

After nine sips of Gatorade, you spoke again.

“Orange.” You took another sip. "My favorite.”

He smiled into your hair. “When have I ever lied to you, (Y/N/N)?”

***

Spencer nearly created a crater in the linoleum floor of the ER waiting room with his bouncing heel by the time the doctor came back with an update.

“She had a mild case of heat stroke. We currently have her on fluids, and she’ll need lots of rest for at least the next week.” Doctor Bahamani concluded.

“No signs of metabolic dysfunction? Any respiratory distress?” Reid checked.

Doctor Bahamani smiled knowingly. “She’s going to be just fine, Doctor Reid.”

“Can I see her?” Spencer asked.

“Yes. Only two at a time, please.”

Spencer didn’t care who volunteered with him. He moved without thinking. An outpouring of gratitude for his eidetic memory flooded him. Through the thickest brain fog, he could trust his recollection of the hospital to bring him to the correct hospital room.

The security staff practically had to drag him away from your bedside after the ambulance ride. They might have thrown him out of the ER if not for the flash of his FBI badge.

Something nagged at him as he sped past the nursing station.

You were going to be fine. The ER doctor confirmed it. Yet his heart was still pounding and he could barely refrain from running. Even more odd, he wasn’t ashamed of his irrational behavior.

So what if a doctor deemed you were okay? It was you. And he saw you groggier and more out of it than you'd ever been. And who knows how thorough the doctors were with their examination? It was completely reasonable to worry for one of his closest friends.

He just couldn't believe you were alright until he checked you over with his own hands and his own eyes.

***

When you grinned at him from your cot, Spencer wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.

Tears glazed your eyes. But, your gorgeous smile was back.

“Spencer?” You asked, brow raised and head cocked.

He’d been staring too long. He looked like an idiot, lamely standing in the doorway as if he were the one with heat stroke.

“Straighten your head. Your neck is probably tight.”

You smiled, but this time it was tight-lipped and painful-looking. “You’re too worried.”

He watched saline drip down your IV. “Of course I’m worried, (Y/N). You got heat stroke.” With a deep breath as a shot of courage, he sat in the chair by the head of your bed.

There was nothing odd about sitting with his best friend at the hospital.

His chest twisted at “best friend” and his resolve collapsed. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

He liked you. He really, really liked you. He actually might even–

“Luckily, I got out pretty unscathed.” You snapped Spencer out of his spiral. “A little dehydrated. Achy. Might feel sick for a few days.”

“Or weeks.” Spencer corrected.

“Trying to look on the bright side here, Doctor.” You smirked and Spencer swore his right ventricle tightened.

Then, your nose scrunched and Spencer's wiped clean of any concern about his cardiac health.

“What hurts?”

“Just a little achy, Spencer. I’m alright.”

He shot you a look. He knew all your excuses. He knew you went to self-harming lengths to not worry people.

“You’re not alright.” He reached for the red nurse-call button.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Okay…my body aches, Spence. And the IV burns. But they’ve already told me that’s normal. No need to take nurses away from an emergency.”

The nurses at the station desk didn’t appear to be rushing around for anyone, but Spencer feared this wouldn’t behoove his case.

“They can give you pain medication, if you want.”

You hesitated, and immediately Spencer pressed the button. When you smiled weakly instead of bickering, his worry grew tenfold but not without a rush of heat flooding his entire body.

In Morgan's words, he’s down bad.

“How are you doing, sunshine?” As if he’d been summoned, Morgan appeared in the doorway.

Spencer stepped back from your cot. The part of him riled from Morgan’s “sunshine” moniker wants to shove his hand into yours. Spencer thought he hid his annoyance well, but something about Morgan's smirk told him otherwise.

“Um…”

Morgan’s smirk fell. “You feel that bad, huh?”

You chuckled sadly. “Do I look that shitty or am I an open book today?”

“You never look shitty,” Spencer said. A tsunami of blood rushed to his face.

“Anyway,” Morgan said, “Do you want anything, Beauty Queen? I can grab you some jello.”

“Jello sounds nice.” You said, and something in your voice was so vulnerable and naive Spencer wanted to wrap you in his arms as tight as he could. Which was illogical. That would only hurt you further.

He shook his head as if that would remove the thoughts from his mind. “I’m gonna see if I can check up on your labs at the nurse’s station. I’ll make sure they’re giving you the good drugs.” He smiled.

You laughed– a genuine laugh– and Spencer’s heart soared. “Thanks, Spence.”

“I’ll go grab your jello,” Morgan said.

“Hold on, you should stay with her just in case she needs anything," Spencer said.

“I’ll be fine, Spence.” You said, but Spencer was not prepared to take "no" for an answer.

“If you boys wants to run her some errands, I’ll stay.” Emily stood in the doorway. “JJ is coming soon too– she just got a phone call from a very frantic Penelope.”

Your nose crinkled. “Oh no.” You groaned, but you were smiling.

“Oh, yes. Be prepared for some mother henning," Emily said.

“Garcia can’t be any more mother henning than Reid," Morgan said.

Before his face could turn redder than a baboon’s bottom, Spencer fled.

He’s only two yards from the nursing station when Morgan intercepted him at the end of the hall.

“So, you’re going to make your move, right?”

Spencer's body temperature plummeted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He tried to shoulder past Morgan, but he was no match for his grip strength. “Reid, c’mon. You like (Y/N).”

Part of him wanted to laugh. “Like” seemed too simple of a word to describe the symphony of feelings (Y/N) started in him. “It’s…” He’s too tongue-tied to lie. “It’s complicated.”

You’re brilliant. You’re beautiful. You’re brimming with empathy. You’re everything Spencer could want. And it scared the shit out of him. Because that meant there’s even more to lose. And if he lost you, there would be no one to blame but himself. It was better for his psyche to not go there with you– to step back from the line rather than risk what would happen if he failed to make it work in the end.

And what if you got hurt? What is you fell in the line of duty? Or worse, what if someone targeted you because of your romantic tie to him? Spencer's already experienced the pain of losing a soulmate-- a concept he wasn't even sure he believed in-- once. He wasn't not sure if he could survive it a second time.

There was too much unpredictability in his life. He chose a dangerous profession. He was gifted a ticking time-bomb of dangerous genes. He’d never forgive himself if he inflicted onto you the pain he’s been through; losing loved ones, whether through death or mental illness.

Morgan's expression turned sympathetic. “Reid, you should give it a shot. Our lives our hectic. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

Spencer blinked to block tears from welling. “I just want her to be happy, too.”

“And who says you don't make her happy?”

“His idiotic genius brain.” Rossi appeared from around the corner.

Spencer froze. “You heard?” His face flushed yet again.

“Just the tail end. But Reid…” He trailed off.

Morgan took the hint. “I’m going to get (Y/N) some jello. With my charm, I could negotiate for some whipped cream.”

“Don’t get whipped cream on it. She’s lactose sensitive,” Spencer said.

Morgan's stupid smirk reappeared. “Gotcha, Reid.”

Rossi took Morgan's place. Once Morgan was out of sight, he began his speech. “You love her. Don’t get in your own way.” Rossi put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “And (Y/N) is an incredibly intelligent woman. Don’t insult her intelligence by thinking she can’t decide who is or is not worth taking a risk. And for what it’s worth…a man like you is worth the risk.”

Rossi left Reid staring at his back.

For the longest time, Reid convinced himself he refrained from asking you out to protect you from himself and his hefty baggage. And that’s not completely untrue.

But suddenly, he realized he was primarily trying to protect himself from exposing his vulnerabilities to you this whole time. There’s never been a person whose opinion affected him like yours. There's never been a life he's wanted to protect more except perhaps...Maeve.

But just like it’s up to you to decide who’s worth the risk, it’s up to him to decide as well.

And if today taught him anything, shit happens. And if you slip through his fingers, he doesn't want it to because he wasn't brave enough to make a first move.

And being your person was more than worth the risk of rejection.

Author's Note: Thank you to so much to everyone who stuck around through my hiatus! I appreciate every single one of you! You're super cool :)

Happy to be back! Inbox is open to chat about writing and take requests! Please check pinned "Blurb Requests" post before requesting! (Will update the post as my boundaries update!)

Have an awesome day or night, wherever you are in this crazy world. I am incredibly thankful you spent part of your precious life reading something I penned.

Forever grateful,

shewroteaworld

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot

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gamermattsgf · 3 months

Text

The favour // fwb Chris

Warnings: (there’s a lot) heavy smut / dom Chris x dom fem reader / fingering / cunilingus / face sitting / wet grinding / collar kink / exhibition kink / riding / overstimulation / praise kink / degradation kink / doggy / princess kink / hair pulling / choke kink / wave riding / cream pie / breeding kink / slapping / sadism + masochism / cockwarming (erm… sorta)

Summary: you and Chris are best friends. And you just can’t seem to get off. Chris offers to help you. And it’s as simple as that.

Author’s notes: ah yes, my ‘politically correct’ piece of writing. If you do not like it. Y’all can leave it… go on I’ll wait. BUT ANYWAYS an epic battle of top vs top, goddamn, complete switch up from what I usually write, since I’m kinda known for writing submissive shit and mommy kinks hehe. I was so scared to publish this one but fuck it. I’m too deep in now to stop.

“Don’t try to take it further, focus on the friendship, get a little sidetracked…” - Best friends, The Weekend

‘You’re serious?’ Chris sputters with his eyebrows raised in disbelief and a small smirk on his face.

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders ‘I’m being dead serious bro, no one has ever been able to get me off’.

Chris blows out a flabbergasted breath, both of you lying side by side on your backs on top of his bed. He has his hands leisurely rested on his stomach, his fingers intertwined as his head sinks further into one of the pillows.

Chris and you are best friends. But you’re also both players. You don’t have a preference, you don’t care, you just like to get people off. And then whenever you hang out, you tell each other about your various different escapades.

It’s fun. You always enjoy hearing about the mirage of strange stories he tells you with little smirks over his face.

You sit in contemplative silence for a bit, yourself feeling a little awkward after expelling that uncalled for fact about your sexual wellbeing.

The white ceiling blurs as you refocus your eyes, but then you hear the bedcovers crinkle beside you, and then the sound of Chris’ body rolling over to you echoes within your ears.

Your breath hitches as he tosses one of his legs over your lying one, before hoisting his body over it completely. Then he sits back on his calves, his knees sinking into the mattress as his arms shoot out in front of him.

‘Chris what the fuck are you doing’.

His hands curl around the backs of your knees and you squeak a little in surprise as he flexes his arms to pull you vigorously toward him. Then he falls forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. Suddenly you feel his lower body press up onto your hips.

‘What the fuck do you mean ‘what am I doing?’?’

He spits sarcastically, groaning in effort as he lowers down further onto you by bending his elbows and lying them down onto the mattress.

‘I’m getting you off’ he mumbles before immediately nuzzling his nose into your neck. Your voice falters and your mouth drops open. Your thighs desperately want to squeeze together but Chris’ thick hips weighting down on your core prevent this.

‘If other guys can’t do it for you then I will’

‘Chris-’ you sputter, slightly in amusement, but also slightly in shock at the image of his body on top of yours. You feel his tongue, and it slicks out quickly onto your neck, the consistency hot and soft as your skin grazes his lips.

‘Let’s make some bruises first though…’ he muses teasingly into your neck. Then his mouth bites down and you hiss, finally putting your shaking hands to good use by clawing them at his shoulder blades.

He continues to kiss, and you throb, liquids trickling and your stomach churning in desire. Your nails curl and they make a slow descent down his back as you pant into the air. Chris smirks smugly into your neck, knowing that he already has you dripping wet for him.

‘Go on… scratch my back all up, I dare you’

He drawls out gleefully, finding the roots of your hair after one of his hands slithers under your head to tug it back aggressively.

You whimper, but Chris only licks his lips at the unmarked skin, his mouth watering at the attractive angle your head is tilted at. He can’t wait to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. He dives in again, and muffles his groans with your neck at the feeling of your back arching up welcomingly into his touch.

‘Chris…’ you try again, but it comes out as more of a sigh since you can no longer speak anymore words.

Suddenly he detaches his mouth from your neck, slithering his body down the length of yours as his nose brushes against every inch of your clothed figure on his way down. Your breathing is laboured, and you have to sit up onto your elbows to look down lustfully at the way his arms snake their way underneath your thighs, his chin resting on your pubic bone before he effortlessly lifts your calves up onto his shoulders.

‘Chris- a-are you seriously gonna’ you start before swallowing meekly and cutting yourself off at his eye roll.

‘When have I ever said something I didn’t mean, huh?’

His hands feel their way up to the waistband of your sweats before he hooks his fingers into it and slowly pulls it away. He goes until your panties are exposed to him and again, you try to squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, but it only ends up trapping Chris’ head into a firm lock.

He smirks, before dipping his head down and softly kissing your clothed centre. You drip behind your panties when you feel his lips press against the burning skin, your heart beating in your throat. You swallow harshly again, your cheeks a heavily flushed pink, before Chris looks up once more with dilated pupils.

‘I’ve wanted to eat you out for so fucking long…’

Your back arches yet again in desire, but it doesn’t surprise you, both Chris and you hung out quite a lot, and went into very sexually explicit detail when you chatted, hence the obvious attraction. However, it doesn’t make it any less hot as he slides his hands up once again to slip off your last layer.

He allows your legs to drop from his shoulders for just a second so that he can take off both your sweats and your panties, leaving yourself exposed to his wet, cherry red mouth.

‘Please… squeeze your thighs hard baby, really wanna feel you, want you to fucking suffocate me with these pretty legs’

He pleads, his hands splaying out widely onto your inner thighs as he trails them back up to your core feverishly, admiring them and spreading your legs open for him as he goes before he props your legs back up onto his shoulders.

‘I’m gonna eat you out so good… make you think I’m the only man in the world capable enough to handle you…’

‘Please…’ is all you can breathe in return before a smirk carves into Chris’ face again at being able to coax you into begging for him.

‘That’s my good girl’ he praises quietly before gathering saliva into his mouth and spitting a thick jewel of it all over your core. It drips right down your throbbing heat, and Chris licks his lips whilst observing his work, before dropping his nose right onto your clit.

You hiss in pleasure at the sensitivity when he slides his face down your slit, his mouth kissing your centre hungrily as he grabs onto the tops of your thighs to squeeze them feverishly and keep you close to him.

‘We look so fucking pretty together with my face between your legs don’t you think?’

You whimper instantly, squeezing your eyes shut and arching you back at the slick consistency. Your hips buck, and you grind yourself down onto Chris’ face. He inhales with a dreamy smile on his lips before you look your head back down to him, yourself still propped up on your now shaking elbows. Chris’ dilated eyes flick up to connect with yours, and just as he does this, his tongue purposefully darts out so that he can lick a bold strip right up the centre of your clit.

Your chest rises and falls, and you mewl at the sensation of his tongue working along the spongy nerve. His eyes drop for a second, to close and simply enjoy himself as he licks away your sweetened juices, his nose constantly bumping and pushing against your tender clit because of how deeply he forces himself. However, now that the initial shock of Chris wanting to eat you out has worn off, you begin to feel your normal sexual tendencies seeping through your mind once again.

With that being said, as Chris sprawls out below you, licking into your heat and gripping onto your supple flesh, one of your thighs twitch, and somehow, you can’t seem to just let him try and get you off without adjusting the position to suit yourself.

Your thigh flexes and knocks into the side of Chris’ head, which catches him off guard. This then allows you to gravitate your hips to the side, causing a chain reaction within Chris’ body. He tips, then falls onto his back with a ‘humph’ before you are able to effortlessly gravitate your body up on top of his so that now, you are sitting on his face with each side of your thighs trapping his head onto the bottom of the mattress.

You smirk and grind down onto his nose evilly, but Chris only allows you to have this freedom of power for about 10 seconds. He continues to suck and kiss against you, but his toleration is not great, and you peek down to see that he is glaring up at you.

Soon, his hands slither their way up to your hips, and he roughly wrestles you off of his face. Rather violently, he throws you back down into your original position and you squeak in shock when he rolls back into his cozy spot in between your legs.

And so the fight for dominance begins. You fucking knew this would happen, it’s a spoken truth that both Chris and you are tops, so it was just a matter of time before something like this occurred.

Instead of putting his face back down there however, he leers up to you, his torso slithering like a snake’s as he arches his back and towers his crawling body over yours threateningly.

He looks bigger, more muscular this way. But it only makes you wetter in attraction.

Bringing up his right hand to his face, he lollipops his pointer and middle finger into his mouth, reaching them all the way down his throat so that he can wetly coat them with spit before taking them out and guiding them towards your lower half.

‘I’ve been waiting to do this for fuck knows how long…’ he begins in a chastising manner, now his long fingers finding your throbbing clit and stroking it slowly. ‘So I want to be able to watch your face when I eat you out’.

You have to quickly bite on your lip and feather your eyes closed when those two fingers slip inside of you, his thumb quickly manoeuvring to take over with rubbing your clit so both things are being done simultaneously.

‘And I can’t fucking do that if you’re sitting on my face like that can I?’ He begins to growl, reprimanding you as his fingers go at an agonisingly slow pace to teach you a lesson. Suddenly his left hand quickly comes to give the side of your thigh a harsh but playful slap. ‘So, be my good girl and stay fucking still for me whilst I have my treat yeah?’

‘And what if I don’t do as I’m told?’ You smirk and challenge him back, knowing all too well how this game goes, you’ve played it plenty of times before - Chris is just a little bit better at it than most people.

But he still has you dripping the same, even only as friends.

Something changes within Chris’ eyes in that moment. The softness of them hardens, and this little ordeal no longer feels like a kind and friendly favour.

You have a feeling he’s going to get rough with you in a minute…

Now the gaze he portrays is more ravenous, it morphs right before your very eyes and he looks as though he’s about to make a meal out of your body.

The hand wetly slipping in and out of you abruptly stops, and instead exits your hole, only to gravitate back up to your collarbones. Chris’ jaw clenches and his nostrils flare slightly at your defiance.

It’s as if he forgets that you’re just as dominant as him within the sheets, because he seems to want all of the control to himself… typical top behaviour. And it’s only a matter of time before you realise that the hand moving up to your collarbones is actually making its way up to your exposed neck instead.

Cupping your throat, his veined and sticky hand presses down onto it and slowly begins to put pressure on your wind pipe, choking you from breath.

‘I don’t think you have much of a choice baby… because I’ll make you’ he smirks, speaking to you and leaning his head down until his nose touches the tip of yours.

‘I don’t like it when you’re on top, so I guess I’ll just have to fuck you into a whiny little bottom for me, won’t I?’ He chastises you in a babied voice, as if he is talking to a small animal, which contrasts to his clamped hand that is now making you feel slightly dizzy with light-headedness.

You swallow, your heat gushing at the bruise-inflicting grip his fingertips have against your throat, and you think Chris knows that you are enjoying it just as much as he is.

‘Pretty little necklace for a pretty little neck…’ he mumbles, leaning his head down slightly further, just enough so that his lips can feather against yours. ‘I wanna find out how much I can make this pretty little neck scream’ he cheekily muses against your lips, before releasing his pressured grip slightly.

This allows you time to take in a huge, stuttering breath as you look up at Chris with glassy eyes.

The clang of a heavy belt undoing rings within your ears, the leather flapping against itself when Chris manages to slip it off with only one hand. You’re impressed. But there are only so many things that you can focus on at once, and currently you are still hyper fixated on the way his hand expertly chokes you from air.

‘Ahh fuck, I’m so hard for you princess’ He meekly whimpers onto your mouth after loosening the button and zipper to his jeans, only now just realising how furiously hard his cock is after slipping his hand down his pants and cupping it.

It throbs and leaks within his boxers whilst his hand grips against it to start jerking it. He feels so sexually pent up after discussing sex with you almost all day, not getting any of it himself until now. With that, and the added experience of licking you clean, Chris feels as though he could explode at any moment. But he’s too good at this for his own good, and can hold on for a while, he’s experienced at edging and has done it all before.

You whine rather loudly up onto Chris’ lips at the nickname, squeezing your thighs against his body once again.

This has him retracting his head up so that he can fully take in your face as he smirks once again, the devil dancing along his mouth and his eyebrows furrowing in confused pleasure.

‘Yeah? You like that? Has my pretty little girl got a princess kink?’

He raises his eyebrows at an antagonising rate, clearly getting off on teasing you as he works himself with his own hand back down near your hole.

You whine again.

‘Chris!’.

Shouting at him in embarrassment, you cover both of your blushing cherry cheeks with your hands, not wanting to admit to your friend that the notion of him calling you a princess makes your heart beat down at your clit.

‘I think she doesssss’ he drawls out within a singsong, poking you playfully with the hand that was resting against your throat. You squirm, before gritting your teeth. But then his energy changes.

‘Fuck, I actually think that’s really hot’ he groans into your ear gutturally, after rubbing against his own tip, now practically pressing his whole entire body weight down on top of yours and trapping you underneath him. But, you are not going to be fucking humiliated and degraded by Chris, no matter how attractive his dominating sex appeal may be.

So you push against his shoulders roughly, and once again it sends him flying to the side. He whimpers in surprise but you are already turning so that you can yank his hand up from out of his boxers. He moans aggressively at the lose of contact before he is widening his eyes and swallowing.

You then clamber on top of his lap, slapping one of your hands down onto his chest before he can push himself back up again. Chris looks at you with slightly erratic eyes, and you can tell that he really didn’t see that one coming. Good.

Slowly, you begin to swirl your hips, rolling them on his cock, which finally, gets him to falter. He weakens within your hold, his eyelashes feathering and his mouth opening slightly to let out another high-pitched moan. His back arches delightfully, and you glow in your newfound power, adoring looking down at a defenceless Chris who white knuckles the bed sheets and squirms around like a little boy.

‘Jesus- just like that princess’ he mumbles vaguely, panting, now also with two flushed red cheeks that acquire perspiration with every grind of your fluid hips.

Thinking that you’re not quite teasing him enough to match the kind of embarrassment that he just put you through, you shift your naked lower half down slightly so that you can sit on his thighs, clad within red Calvin Kleins.

Reaching your fingers into the waistband on either sides of his hips, you smile innocently before pulling down the stretchy fabric, allowing his reddened cock to spring free.

Chris takes in a shaky, heaving inhale, his head tilted back as he focuses on his breathing with his eyelashes feathering and his chest laboured. You take him suddenly and Chris rips a gasp from his chest whilst you feel around to get a perfect grip on him. It doesn’t take long however, because his prick is already perfect.

‘Jesus Chris, you never told me how big you were’ you mumble in admiration, having no shame in fixing your stare right onto his cock, your mouth practically watering at the angry vein lacing its way to his tip, his girth thick and lengthy. Chris finds it in himself to recover and smirk cockily at the compliment, already knowing how big he is.

‘Yeah? Think you can take me princess? Am I too big for you?’

His hands slide their way behind his head, giving it something to suavely lean on as his smug eyes glance down at the way you watch his prick. Gritting your teeth in annoyance at his clear show of dominance still, you grip it tightly before lunging your lower half forward to sit back down, this time so that his cock brushes heavily against your clit.

Chris squeezes his eyes tightly shut once again, knocking his sharpened jaw back as he curses up into the air and whines.

‘Think your cock can handle me?’ You bite back, flipping the question on its side as you slowly grind backwards and forwards over Chris’ sensitivity, his back now arched fully and his hands out to his sides once again so that he can grip onto his bedsheets.

He looks as though he’s about to lose consciousness, so your hand shoots forward and roughly grips his chin, forcing his head to glance upwards in a dizzied spell of pleasure.

‘Look at me pretty boy…’ you whisper, sliding your other hand that was once at his chest, down your thigh to squeeze it for Chris’ benefit. You know how much he loves thighs; due to previous conversations you have had in the past about them. His eyes are hooded and his mouth is open whilst he takes panting breaths.

‘I want you to watch me play with you’

His dilated eyes flit to the erotic sight of his cock disappearing in between your folds slickly after ever grind, the pleasure he feels from just watching blowing through the roof at the sensual exhibition of wet sex. His lips are moist, due to his tongue passing over them every couple of seconds.

‘Pretty cock for a pretty boy yeah?’ you pout playfully and shrug, which gets Chris nodding and babbling a distracted ‘Uhuh’, almost as if he is in a drunken stupor. But you enjoy it, nonetheless.

And it goes on like this for a while, before you stop and lift yourself from him, deciding that you have teased him enough. Grabbing his throbbing cock back within you hand, you squeeze him and angle him upwards with the intention of fully sinking down onto him this time, finally feeling the ache to ride him.

But, within your loss of concentration on his face and the vulnerability that comes with gravitating up onto your knees above him, Chris sees a point of instability. Looking at your wobbling legs, he realises that he can knock you off balance easily, and so grins devilishly, his mouth practically dripping with drool at the thought that spins within his head of a sexual fantasy he’s always wanted to recreate with you.

Quickly flexing his stomach, he crunches upwards to a sitting position, wasting no time in shooting out his hands and swallowing your hip bones within their expanse.

It all happens so fast.

But you squeak as you are caught off guard.

Chris quickly and effortlessly lifts you away from him, his biceps greedily flexing and giving you an eyeful before you are spun around fully and tossed onto your hands and knees. You hardly have any time to recover before you are choking out a moan because of the way Chris crawls up right behind you, also on his hands and knees.

Now, one thing about Chris’ room layout, is that at the foot of his bed, he has a walk in closet, and the doors to said closet are mirrored, meaning that currently you are staring at a reflection of yourself, with a ravenous Chris leaning over you.

You wheeze as he pounces forward, throwing his back over yours and using his left knee to kick one of your thighs apart so that your legs can spread to make room for him. You feel your stomach churn at the notion of watching Chris fuck you, your eyes fixating upon your animalistic reflections. He too looks at you both in the mirror, smirking at you in victory through the fogged glass, knowing that there is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to even the odds again in such a submissive position.

You choke, still not yet accustomed to how he had switched the power dynamic so quickly between the two of you, before he’s gripping himself and slipping right into your dripping hole.

You whine, your elbows buckling to the mattress at the stretched burn, which sends your front barelling to the duvet, sticking you ass further up into the air and pushing Chris ever deeper. Chris grunts, his stomach heaving as it rises and falls against your tailbone. His breath is hot on your neck as he admires the way he looks pushing his cock into you.

‘Good girl.’

He gutturally whispers into you ear knowing that you’re watching him speak this from through the mirror. His praise is slightly condescending, with a teasing twinge to it and you know that it’s because he’s bragging about getting the better of you.

You knew he was going to put up a fight for it, you just didn’t realise how rough he’d get.

‘Don’t you look like such a pretty angel on your hands and knees for me?’ He hums fondly, now leering forward on your back even further so that he can whisper directly into your ear, his eyes still absolutely fixated upon the mirror.

‘You’re practically begging for me to take you from behind’ he scoffs before simply sitting inside of you, refusing to move until you acknowledge him and admit to him that he’s right.

‘I’m not moving until you beg for it…’ he sticks up his nose, leaning on one of his hands whilst the other one slithers up your sweater that had drooped open with gravity to squeeze onto one of your braless tits and rub his thumb over your nipple. You roll your eyes, your cheeks flushed and sweating before you snort it defiance.

Chris soon looses his patience and removes his hand from its stimulating grip on your tit, only to bring it back out and hardly swat it against the side of your thigh.

‘Say it’

He bellows through gritted teeth, his hand softly soothing the now reddened hand print plastered over your thigh by rubbing over the stinging skin.

You grit your own teeth, hissing slightly in pain but still keeping your mouth shut. Chris delivers another slap, this time nearer to your ass and hurting a lot harder. Tears form within your eyes but you still throb the same, adoring how the waves of pain feel as they warmly spread through your gut and melt into pleasure instead.

You do want to desperately get off though, and so you swallow down your pride, being humiliated as a top once again today by breaking your stare from the mirror and twisting your head behind you so that you could look a lustful Chris in the eyes.

‘Please! I want your cock, please give it to me pretty boy… please’.

Chris seems satisfied enough with this answer, because he smirks, before reaching his hand underneath your chest and slithering it right up to your neck so that he can twist your head back around to face the mirror yet again.

‘There’s my pretty girl…’

His choking grip stays near your jaw as he forces you to watch the way he slowly begins to stroke in and out of you.

‘I jerk off thinking about you a lot y’know, imagining us doing something just like this, sometimes replaying it on the wall, on the floor… in the shower’.

As Chris reels off each of these different scenarios, you can’t help but picture each of them in your head as well, your eyes rolling into the backs of your sockets whilst you bite your lip and suppress a whine at the feeling of his tip reaching a sensitive spot within you.

He doesn’t stop there with his verbal onslaught however, for he keeps going, nearly moaning into your ear whilst mumbling ‘you always make me so horny when you come over princess.’

Which in part, you know is truthful, you just didn’t quite grasp how horny it really made him.

Sure you two talk about sex a lot, since it is primarily what adolescent minds are fixated upon these days- however you were not aware that it had gotten to the extent where Chris could no longer control his hormones anymore.

You know he’s good at suppressing these feelings, he did it too much to not be an expert at it by now, but you guess he just couldn’t help himself this time when the opportunity to give you a good dicking arose.

And fuck was he good at giving it.

‘From now on… if you need help with getting off, you come to me’ He possessively announces into the air as his motions start to make the bed rattle up against the thin back wall.

The bedroom window to his apartment is cracked wide open, which means anyone passing underfoot nosy enough to stop and listen in would no doubt hear your filthy moans as you fucked. Which you suppose isn’t really a bad thing in your minds, as it is yet again something that you openly discussed about in the past, coming to the unanimous decision that it both turned you on even more.

‘I don’t think-’ you try to speak but are abruptly cut off by a yelp of pain when he delivers another brutal slap to the skin of your thigh. It irritates you slightly, because you know exactly what he’s playing at.

‘The only word you should be fucking speaking is my name, over and over again princess, so I don’t wanna hear anything else out of that filthy little mouth of yours unless it’s to do with how good I fuck you’

This is humiliating and degrading as a top, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, the blood rushing to them as his cock thickly stretches you out and you have to take stuttering inhales to catch your breath.

Your blood boils and you go to shout back at him, but then you stop when something within your stomach flips, and the tickling pleasure intensifies, cooking and rolling within your gut. You have to press your face into his mattress to moan when an orgasm tugs at your mind.

You try to hide your face there so Chris can’t hear how noisy you’re being to protect your dignity as a top, but that doesn’t work, because Chris gets a surge of power that fuels his god complex every time he looks down at the submissive nature he had managed to force you into.

The hand cupping around your neck slides into the back of your hair and grips it roughly. A dull ache melts across the roots of it as he yanks your face back up again to watch the mirror. ‘Don’t you fucking dare’ he spits into your ear harshly. ‘When I said I wanted to hear you scream I fucking meant it… I want everyone outside to know how good I fuck my girl’.

He chastises you from through the mirror, his blue eyes glinting and oozing with masculine dominance whilst he admires the way your shoulders heave and you whimper into the air uncontrollably because of his doing.

‘Chris…’ you pant, not being able to help it anymore because you need to come, your body sweating and burning up as your eyes feather closed. Chris smirks, knowing that you would never willingly do as you were told like a submissive unless you absolutely had to, meaning that he had just done his job at getting you off.

‘Does my princess need to come?’ He teases into your ear, before letting go of your hair and reaching his hand underneath your body. He trails it down your stomach so that he can play with your clit, which only makes your stimulation even worse.

‘Chris please-‘ you whine, but you physically cannot get anymore words out because your brain is too concerned with chasing your high as your thighs begin to weaken and wobble within their stance. ‘Do you think you deserve to come?’ He questions, again teasing you with malicious intent as his thrusts suddenly slow, his pointer finger now circulating your clit at a lazy pace. This gets your high to diminish, which irritates you.

He is not fucking getting away with edging you, even if it means you need to beg for him.

So, as much as you hate it, you whine into the air, now grinding your hips backwards so that you can meet his forward strokes, which gets him to hiss unexpectedly and smirk from behind you.

‘Yes- yes I- please Chris please- I’ll be your good girl… I’ll- I’ll come to you when I need to fuck someone, I promise… just please- I wanna come… please…’

You cannot believe you are grovelling at his feet like this, you sound pathetic, but to be fair to him, it is worth it, because god can Chris fuck… you’re not too mad about him offering his cock to you whenever you need it either, even though that entails the idea of friends with benefits… and everyone knows that those kind of favours usually end in disaster.

But the favour is just too good of an offer to pass up.

Satisfied with your begging, Chris smirks once again, weighting his back down heavily and getting into a good position before he muses a quick ‘there’s my good girl’. He speeds his pace yet again, and the faster he goes the more your orgasm threatens to snap like a thread.

And it doesn’t take long, before you burst and give a final whine into the air, throwing your head back so that it hits his muscled shoulder whilst the heat of your orgasm melts down your thighs and spreads across your chest. Chris rides you through it, still stroking but this time thickly and slowly as your cum drips down his cock. Finally, after your orgasm is over, he kisses your temple and mumbles into your ear ‘such a good girl for me’ before caressing you and pulling out.

This makes you wince quietly, as his hands now soften against your body and help you lie down, sprawled across his mattress. As you come down from your high, Chris’ sweating body presence slowly slips away, and you hear the duvet covers crinkle beneath his knees as he stretches the expanse of his body over to his nightstand.

Hearing the wooden drawer scrape open within your ears and his hand rustling around the compartment you listen while you pant, trying to calm your sodden core and slow your heart rate down.

Closing your eyes, you breathe with exhaustion.

But you open them again when Chris comes back behind you, your head, that is resting on his mattress turned to look at the way one of his hands lean on the bed covers right in front of your eyes with his knuckles.

Then, metal and the flap of leather is heard within the ear on the other side of your head, your vision probably purposefully obscured from seeing the object by Chris himself.

Why did he have his belt with him?

Until you realise that when you feel leather sliding under your chin… it isn’t Chris’ belt.

His breathing is thick and his presence overwhelming as the smell of sex permeates the air. His hand that was resting right by your face then reaches forward so that he can grab the item and stop you from moving away from it.

You are now trapped from both sides.

‘Chris! What the fuck!?’ You question angrily before a deep and condescending chuckle is heard from behind you as Chris yanks your neck up by the leather and you feel the metal clip catch to fasten the collar tightly onto your skin.

He’s using his favourite collar… on you.

‘What? You didn’t think you’d get away with me not using this did you? It’s my favourite toy…’

You sit up with a mortified look on your face, gazing into the mirror at the simple black neck accessory. Chris smirks from behind you, admiring the collar and throbbing at the perfect fit it possesses over you neck. Leering forward, he uses his fingers to twist your jaw so that he can softly kiss against your lips.

It takes you by surprise, but you brush over the fact that you have a sadists’ collar on your neck in favour of hesitantly kissing Chris back. Each of you get lost within the twists of your tongues and the breaths you take, trying to coat as much of your scents onto each other as possible.

He moans into your mouth, grabbing at your face aggressively before one of his hands slides down so that he can play with the collar, tugging on the leather to pull you closer to him. To say he gets carried away is an understatement, because he sits back on his haunches as he grasps your thighs so that he can pull you into his lap.

Still kissing you, he mumbles into your lips ‘can my brave girl manage another orgasm?’

You falter, your lips stopping as you open your eyes to look down at him, not quite sure because of how sensitive you are, however… the tables turn after he adds some sweetness to the offer.

Kissing and grazing his teeth against your bottom lip he drawls a tempting ‘I want you to sit on my cock, so bad’. Something you weren’t quite expecting from someone like Chris, who is very obviously a control freak and rarely lets girls top. You suppose he makes a special exception for you though, because you can tell he wants to show off and exceed the expectation of not only giving you one, but giving you two orgasms back to back.

So you swallow, before nodding your head and letting Chris scoop his hands underneath your armpits so that he can lift you up above his reddened cock.

You screw up your face and whimper a little when he helps you onto him. Chris hisses and mewls quietly into your neck, trying not to let on to the fact that he had been sorely hard for a while with no stimulation after slipping out of you. Your walls ripple and sting slightly with sensitivity but you hold your wheezes down by focussing in on the way Chris willingly lets you sit on top of him without putting up a fight this time.

His hands rest on the curves of your hips, squeezing them and breathing raggedly as you start to grind. He bites his bottom lip and looks up at you with glassy, dilated eyes that gleam with arousal.

‘Shit, you’re taking me so well baby… want me to help?’

You nod your head distractedly, just grateful that he isn’t prepared to let your tired limbs do it all yourself. Your first orgasm has tired them and your clit is still aching, but as soon as he starts hoisting your hips upwards then smoothing them back downwards leisurely, you have time to catch your breath.

Your stomach clenches once again, your body exhausted but your mentality thirsting for another orgasm, which you’re sure Chris will have no problem giving you. This time however, it proves to be a lot more challenging to build you back up again, so Chris has to work twice as hard to please you.

The barrier between pleasure and pressure takes a while to break as Chris pants into the air, resting his forehead on your shoulder because of how good your walls feel squeezing around him. The cum from your first orgasm also makes it extra easier and even more erotic as he slides inside and out wetly, only making it twice as painstaking for him to hold on and not cum all over you himself. His narcissism simply doesn’t let his bodily needs win, because he cannot go back on his own promise of giving you a second orgasm and he would never let himself live it down if he did. He’s good at what he does, and he’s not going to sacrifice his pride simply because it’s you and he can barely control himself around your body normally.

‘You look so pretty when you come… I wanna see that face again’

Chris coos up to you, which makes you squeeze your eyes shut and look towards your bottom halves so that you don’t have to face his piercing eyes. Chris voices this as absentminded dirty talk, but of course there is also the secret notion of you returning more than once to get what you want from him hidden within the statement, hopeful and pining for your sex just as much as you pine for his.

‘Chris it’s a little sore still’ you whine to him, complaining at the pace he is going at, Chris only hushes you like you are a small child, before lunging upwards so that he can have your lips on his once again.

He decides he likes kissing you… a lot.

‘I know you can handle it’ he simply mumbles back, his fingertips digging into the fleshy part of your ass so that he can squeeze the skin in his hands and speed up your grinds. ‘Just gotta build you back up again’ he speaks once again, referring to working away your body’s sensitivity and turning it into a high once more after you start to get pleasure out of the strokes instead of pain.

So you two go on like this, into a period where you fall into silence, the only noises being your raggedy breathes, the gentle squeak of the wooden bed and the backs of your thighs gently hitting against the tops of his. You look into each other’s gleaming eyes, your noses almost touching and your hearts racing. your fingers thread into the back roots of his darkened brunette hair, the long silky strands running through your fingertips easily and making you smile at their softness

But after a while, you suddenly get restless, and your clit no longer begs for mercy, instead it melts into a hungrier sensation, and you feel as though Chris has successfully just gotten you out of the overstimulated slump of your first orgasm, readying you for your second.

‘Chris I- I think’ you stutter and swallow, suddenly grabbing onto his shoulders and squeezing them as your eyes widen in realisation. Chris raises his eyebrows cockily, because he knows what’s going to happen so, he lurches forward with you in his arms and your back lands onto his mattress once again.

Your head cushions between his two fluffed pillows and he takes up most of your personal space, right in between your thighs so that this time he can take over the thrusting. ‘Yeah? Is my baby needing to come again?’ He questions in a sultry manner, your thighs squeezing his hips in desire at how annoyingly confident and smirky he is.

‘Shut up Chris’ you say back with a blush decorating your cheeks, not helping the way you ache for him as his cock fills you up completely. After hearing this, Chris frowns, pulling out of you and then grabbing you so that he can effortlessly flip you around.

You yelp again with your stomach on the mattress and your face buried into the pillows, in so much pain because of the absence of his cock, which is intensified by the aggressive slap he gives the back of your left thigh.

‘Don’t be so ungrateful princess…’ he chastises you harshly whilst soothing his hand over your skin before spreading you out and entering you once again, which gets you to halt your whines and choke out whimpers instead.

Your toes curl as Chris darts out his tongue to lick a bold stripe right up your spine before beginning to kiss the back of your neck.

You hum an apology into the mattress, but only after Chris tugs on the collar with a ‘listen if you’re gonna give me attitude then maybe I shouldn’t be so nice… next time I might force you to give me head instead of giving you an orgasm if you’re not fucking careful sweetheart… how does that sound hm?’

Fumbling around, your shaking hands finally manage to steady themselves by gripping onto his duvet and white knuckling it.

Again, Chris tries to think about what kind of other things he can say to get you off quicker, because he too, is feeling like he needs to come pretty soon… and it has absolutely destroyed him to hang on for this long.

Wracking his brain as he thrusts, he then ponders the idea of trying something new, something that he has never done before but is willing to wager with you, because he’s not going to lie, the notion makes him harder than he’s ever willing to admit. He decides that it’s worth the try… not fearing at all about the reaction, since you’re the least judgemental person he knows.

‘If we weren’t best friends, I’d fuck a baby into you right now’ he rasps into your ear from behind you.

His front weighs heavily on top of your back as his left hand tangles within the strands of your hair, yanking it and pushing your face into the pillow to muffle your whines.

‘Squeezing me so nice and tight ma’.

But the comment only makes your back arch further into the mattress, your hands clawing and wringing against the duvet cover.

Chris smirks, before he thinks to milk it even further, considering the fact that it is working almost too well, even for him. Along with this… he is also not wearing a condom, knowing that his pull out game is strong. However, it only makes it feel all the more real to both of you.

‘My baby would look so pretty with your eyes….’ he adds on, slipping the top of your ear into his mouth so that he can tug on it.

His hips move at a gorgeous pace, ramming you into the bed whilst his other hand grips the headboard that bangs against the wall rhythmically.

‘I want to give you one so bad… you take me so fucking good princess… you’d be such a good mommy for me’

At this rate he’s going to get bruises all over his knuckles, but he really just doesn’t give a fuck. His main concern is getting you off for the second time this evening - this time with the added addition of his collar, straight after he finished you off the first time.

Your stomach flips in pleasure, especially after he whines ‘fuck… I never wanna wear a condom with you ever… you feel too fucking good wrapped around me like this…’

A pure animalistic kind of hold takes over your body within that moment, and you have to screw your neck into a turn to get it from out of the muffle of the pillows so that he can hear you clearly as you sputter ‘come inside me then- I’m, I’m on the pill’.

You know saying this will drive Chris insane, so you don’t hesitate. You feel as though there is a primal need within you to have his cum dripping out your hole, to make it clear as to who you belong to within that moment. Chris’ mouth falls open as he groans once again when he begins to pick up the pace at this lecherous comment, knowing that he is on the brink of coming. This sends him over the end.

As he rams into you, you feel him burst as he whimpers, letting all of his cum drip out uncontrollably from his tip as it mixes with the rememants of your second orgasm, each of your bodily fluids leaking and mixing with each other’s.

Taking deep stuttering breaths after his high, Chris practically collapses on top of you, both of your shoulders heaving as you suddenly collectively laugh in disbelief.

‘Shit...’ he mumbles into your hair, albeit a little starstruck at his impulsive decision to cum inside of you. You return with an equally as stunned ‘wow… um…’, before you both burst out giggling once again at what had just happened, each of you still hyper aware of his cock inside of you.

‘You wanna go pee?’ He affectionately muses, back to his friendly tone that you know so well, yet still very much naked in his lower half section. You chuckle, grateful that he cares about looking out for you with aftercare, yet also shrugging and snuggling down into the pillow lazily before you close your eyes.

‘Yeah… in a minute… can we just lie here for a bit though?’ You question sleepily, absolutely bone-tired from how hard Chris had railed you into his bed, to which he quips a quick ‘sure’ and plonks his head down onto your shoulder blades.

His heavy weight on top of your back feels oddly comforting, in a twisted, friendly way.

Finally, to end your little adventurous escapade, Chris reaches up his hands to take off the collar from your neck, making your heart squeeze a little as he mumbles ‘that was honestly some of the best sex I’ve ever had, thank you bro’ whilst pulling out the leather sex toy from underneath you.

You snort, and smile, knowing that what lies ahead of your changed relationship will simply be a lot more repeats of what happened tonight…

Author’s notes p.2: you’d think I’m writing whole ass books from how fucking long these things are, jesus… but anyways, the collar kink was an adventurous gamble and I’m not sure how I feel about it. However, The Weekend’s song Best Friends for sure inspired this piece of writing, plus I just love a old good friends w/ benefits Chris imagine, so I hope u liked my interpretation of it <33

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