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#but he can barely go long without listening to music ...
10yo-anon · 2 days
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☆ DARK RED. ☆
Frat!Satoru Gojo x F!reader
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★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
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⚠️: ooc!satoru (sorry), not proofread cuz @*the-parasites-control-me seemed busy and i don wanna bother😔, one use of y/n 💔, grammatical errors! I suck ass!!, angsty angsty
WC: 1,258.
A/N: just a 30 minute drabble(?)/fic(?) Cause I absolutely LOVE steve lacy's songs. And his music. So, why not make a fanfic heavily inspired to one of his classic songs I ADORE. Big shoutout to ahem, "dark red 1 hour" cause thats what ive been listening till i finished writing !!, Happy reading, teehee!
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You lean into the mirror as you apply your pink lipstick on your smiling lips. How could you not smile after Satoru finally agreed on spending time to go to a small date with you?
You were always shocked satoru, godforbid one of the most known frat guy in the campus, gave you, a basic student smitten with him from the start, a chance to go out with him. on how you're actually in a relationship with him.
But a small, annoying, little devil on your left shoulder would always ask you, "are you sure you're in a relationship with him? Does he even see you in a relationship with him? Introduce you to others as his 'girlfriend' ?"
Sure..with his well-earned name as a frat guy along with being in their sorority was..uncomfortable to say the least, he promised his eyes were only looking at you! That he'd never go to any party without your knowledge!
"He already has broken those promises." The imaginary devil sighs out your name. "..Past is past.. no?" You reply silently.
Past.. is every month considered long enough to be called "past"? 'Past' where Satoru could barely drag himself in his (and your's) apartment in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol and a strong scent of another woman's perfume, neck covered with lipstick marks, love bites, and hickeys, polo lazily and wrongly buttoned. Calling out your name. And when you would rush to him, eyes wide with concern. He would drop down to his knees, clinging to your waist and apologizing with crocodile tears, begging you to not leave him, "Satoru..I don't think I can handle this anymo—" "Please, Baby!..don't you give me up.. please don't give up..on us.!" pleading that he would chance his antics for you, "Then tell me. what are those marks on your neck?" "Its nothing! Believe me honey, I belong with you only..and only you, baby.." as long as you give him one more chance.
One. More. Chance. A broken record he keeps repeating. And you would fall for it. Every time. "Cant you see he's genuinely sorry? You're a monster if you leave him!" The angel in your right shoulder would always shout, its only sad you agree with it. You didnt have any choice but to drag him to bed, whispering sweet reassurance in his ear until he falls asleep, bound to forget the whole conversation, possibly the whole night when he wakes up. While you silently cry yourself to sleep. Heart breaking and aching, only his false words keeping it from disintegrating. "Only you, darling...only you.." "I know, 'Toru." You could only force yourself to stop crying and act like nothing was wrong, dread already in you as you simply wait and ready yourself the next time this will happen again.
But no, you can't possibly leave him, of course you couldnt! You love him! You shake your head and push your thought away, its the future you have to focus on, and the future is your said date, remember!
Your eyes dsrt to the small clock on your table. 6:00 PM. pulling away from the mirror, you admire yourself one last time before going to that expensive restaurant you had reserved using satoru's black card. A simple dress in your favorite color, slight makeup adorning your face. Its good enough for you.
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It's been what? One— no, two hours since you sat on your reserved seat. Alone. Where was Satoru?
You've noticed the servers giving you looks, some even audibly whispering pity about you, so you take your phone out to ignore them.
Your senses, or that little devil on your shoulder, whispers to you: "somethings bad about to happen to you." Once more, you continue ignoring them. All the voices, the looks. Everything you can ignore. You text Satoru again, only for your texts to be seen. You don't know why, but you feel it coming.
As you shut your phone off, you feel it vibrate, once, twice, three times! It must be your boyfriend!
With a hopeful smile, you quickly open the hidden messages, only to find out it's Geto, satoru's best friend. Your smile slightly drops.
Another wave of dread washes over you as you read his messages.
G-S: *Video attachment.*
G-S: *Location attachment.*
G-S: im sorry, y/n.
Now, your oh-so hopeful smile completely drops. You were afraid to watch the video. But unfortunately, you did.
It was Satoru, sitting on the couch manspread. With one of the most popular girls in another sorority, face caked with make-up, a skimpy skirt and a tube top, on his lap, giggling while she plants hickeys on his neck, all while he plants his hands on her hips and encourages her more, even whispering on her ear to hump him. shamelessly. Laughing when they mention you and responding by rolling his eyes with a smug grin.
You dont realize you tears endlessly flowing, ruining your eyeliner and foundation horribly, not until a waitress runs up to you, genuinely asking if you were okay.
You turn your phone off as soon as you caught you consciousness. You look around, and to your surprise almost everyone was silently looking at you, some giggling, some judging, some concerned. With your head spinning, you hiccup out an apology before dashing out the restaurant, already calling for your best friend to pick you up.
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Waking up from his drunk slumber, Satoru sits up, quickly noticing he was in a different room with a different girl. 3:36AM. "Ah..shit." He silently panics, remembering you were back at his apartment, possibly waiting for him. As he scrambles out the bed, the girl he doesn't even remember its name was clings onto him. "Mmh..Satoru!~.. W-where r' ya..g..goin..!" "Huh—..sorry..gotta go back to my own apartment.." he rushes to escape her grasp, swiftly slipping on his clothes and attempting to straighten it out. "Hmph! You're going back to your nobody girlfriend again, ar'nt ya.." she whines, pouting her lips out. "Just break up with her already..stay with me..atleast I can pleasure you.." visibly disgusted with her words, Satoru takes his phone before going out the door. "Baby..this is just a one night stand, dont forget."
He opens his phone,
5 messages from "my only one.♡".
His eyes wide with surprise as he opens the notification, only to be greeted with more than 5 messages. Shit. He must have left his phone open while he was.. he'd rather not think of that.
You're messages was from asking about the date to pleading for him to appear, in a span of two hours. He completely forgot about the date.
Before guilt comes to him, he shakes his head. He only had to put on tears and beg for forgiveness, and you would take him back again. It was alright. He was okay.
With a cheeky smile, he walks over to his motorcycle, his mind already planning out his words for forgiveness. Easy.
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"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
Thoughts run to his mind. From "did she finally leave you?" To "how dare she leave you, who does she think she is?" But his thought were answered as he checks the open closet. Barely any of your clothes were there, and the few remaining were either his shirts, or the clothes he gave you. All of it were scattered, as if you rushed to pack your things.
Oh.
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A/N: 2/7 verses done! Can you find the hidden lyrics? :3 n e ways, Part 2? Let me know! But uh.. tommorow will be our school's honor rolls, and I'm 100% sure i won't have honors. For the first time. In my life. Aghh! I saw my brother once when he also didnt get honors in 3rd quarter last year in g7.. he was beaten, grounded, and he said bye to every gadget he had for a month. Soo..uh. I'll be offline for a while! :3 wish me luck !!
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nicolovesutoo · 1 day
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Satoru x Suguru - STARBOY
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Themes: Meeting at a nightclub, bartender Suguru and rich boy Satoru, love at first sight
FLUFF: 1,023 words ⋆。°✩⋆。°✩
Suguru was a simple man with a simple routine: Shower, Eat breakfast, Attend college classes, Finish homework, and then Go to work. He has had this routine for over 2 years, it was ingrained in him. He was the type of person who needed a schedule, he couldn’t function without one. Working at Club STARLIGHT wasn’t on his bucket list, but it paid well. His friend got him the job after hearing him vent about his asshole manager at the last bar he worked at. At this job though, Suguru could wear what he wanted as long as it was all black and his hours were flexible.
Tonight at STARLIGHT, though, made him take multiple shots of espresso to the head. He had been up since 9 AM to finish a class project and went to work at noon… it was now 10 PM. He was covering a shift for Shoko because she had night classes and had covered his shift last week because he was sick. His least favorite thing to pour was beer, mostly because of the strong smell that it produced.
Dressed in black button-down and blue jeans, he poured a beer for a female patron before cleaning a wine glass. The music was blaring and the DJ was shit tonight, he looked like he was pretending to know what he was spinning. The remixes made no sense, like, “Who mixes ‘Blue’ and ‘Despacito’??” He thought, rolling his eyes and yawning before drying the wine glass. The theme for the night was ‘Christmas in São Paulo’, but he didn’t understand it either. The vote on the theme was held by his coworkers at 4 PM on Wednesday like clockwork. He tied his long black hair into a ponytail and listened to other people’s conversations.
A certain man caught his eye though, he stood out like a sore thumb but in a good way. His white hair was messy and he was dressed in a blue dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, black pants, and black dress shoes. He was laughing and chatting it up with the other male patrons that Suguru had seen around more than once. These men spent a lot of money in one night; their checks usually racked up to $600+. They were important businessmen who, when they were drunk enough, wanted to buy a little bit more than just a drink. But Suguru always declined and called a cab for the men, even when they weren’t bothering him.
The man with the white hair and pale skin approached the bar, sitting right in front of him. He had an expensive watch on his right arm and his tinted round glasses barely covered his bright blue eyes. The man had the smile of an angel but the appearance of a sly devil. He spoke gently to Suguru, the man was sober.
“Hi there, Mr..?” He asked, gesturing towards Suguru. They didn’t wear name tags here.
“My name is Suguru.” He answered, coming closer to the bar and leaning over to talk to the man. Surprisingly they were of equal height. “What can I do for you?”
The man looked him up and down before flashing a smile and lowering his glasses, “Well my name is Satoru, and can you make me a Hennessy on the rocks?”
Suguru nodded and turned away from him, going to make the drink. Usually, Suguru would be the one making the conversation with the patron but Satoru carried it. He talked all about his job working at this fashion company named, ‘KAIZEN.CO’, how he was the future CEO because of his father.
Suguru didn’t come from a rich family like Satoru did. Sure they were well off but not designer well off. When he handed him the drink the man’s hand lingered on his for a bit, longer than needed, before taking away the drink. Satoru took a sip from the drink and gave him a thumbs up, signaling that he did a good job. He handed him the check, the drink coming out to $20. He paid in cash, placing down a $100 bill and telling Suguru that it was his tip before winking. He wrote something down on the check before walking away to his buddies, a man with blonde hair and another with brown hair.
Suguru raised an eyebrow before picking up the check and reading what the man had written. He had written his number and told him to ‘Call him <;’. He scoffed before sticking the receipt in his back pocket and finishing his job.
⋆。°✩⋆。°✩
He went home at midnight, completing a 12-hour shift, and was ready to pass out. When he lay on his bed, however, he sighed and thought about the man who took an interest in him. Without consulting his friends, he took the receipt out of his back pocket and dialed the man’s number into his phone. He put it on speaker and waited anxiously for him to answer, his heart dropping a bit while it rang.
When he answered the phone, his voice sounded groggy, as if he had just woken up, “Hello..? Who’s this?” He asked with a yawn.
Suguru hesitated before speaking into the phone, “It’s Suguru, the man you asked to call you..”
He could hear the man scrambling around, knocking some things over while cursing under his breath. He heard something ‘click’ before Satoru spoke again, “I was hoping you would call! If you aren’t busy tomorrow, well today, I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” Suguru asked, laughing a bit while the man on the other line scrambled for words.
“W-Well yeah! If that’s what you want to call it, I mean you don’t have to that’s totally chill, like we can keep talking–”
“There’s this nice cafe on 5th street named ‘ANGELS’. Meet me there at 10 AM?” He asked him, ending the rambling.
He felt him smiling on the other end before answering, “Yes, I’d love to.”
“See you then.” He said before hanging up the phone and telling him goodnight.
(I'm also on AO3: ily__nico)
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teddybearsims · 2 months
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i'm the fury in your head i'm the ghost in the back of your head x
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pia-nor481 · 5 months
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Empty bed Part One
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Lando Norris x reader smut 18+
2.7k words
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Racing was always hard on Lando, he left exhausted and with extreme back pain from sitting almost parallel to the ground in the Mclaren. Many thought he was happy with P2 most races, but that wasn't the case. Coming third means you beat seventeen other drivers, it was something to be proud about. Coming first means you won, all the effort you put in payed off for 25 points and a trophy with "1" written on the front, it meant you were the best on the grid. But second, it always came with the worst feeling. He would be ecstatic getting out of the car, sitting in the cool down room and spraying champagne on the podium, but once he reached the sofa of the post race interviews, waves of dread and disappointment waved over him. "So what about the car is proving to be so tricky for you?" One of the interviewers asked looking directly at Lando, he couldn't blame the car if Oscar. a rookie, managed to come third in the same car. A car that was made for him. "Nothing, just a ... lack of talent." The pause after was so loud, although if Max and Oscar had their mics up, it would have picked up their laughter. But Lando wasn't joking, he just broke the record for the highest number of points without ever winning a race. It was upsetting sure, but his team mate winning a race before him, even though it was a sprint, hurt him even more. It wasn't Oscar's fault Lando felt so down, he just got used to losing, 
All the drivers decided to go out to a club to celebrate another win for max. Lando loved clubs and raves, the atmosphere was so over whelming that he couldn't really think. The DJ wasn't playing as well as he should have, Lando thought, he dances around the line of confident and cocky very well, it was never a turn off. He left Daniel to go the bar for another drink, once he got his vodka and coke he debated on just staying at the bar, drinking a way his problems just for the night. He didn't have to worry about a race next week so he didn't have to easy. Taking a sip of the barely cold drink almost caused him to cough, this was not the Smirnoff he was used to, there was an artificial after taste to the drink as well. "I think you might have my drink."  The girl next to him said laughing lightly, clearly trying to hold back her tears, not from laughter but from the remaining taste of vodka in her mouth. "I think so. Well, here's your just less than full rum and diet coke." Lando said, offering a playful smile in return, offering the glass to her, she took a sip with a nod, pleased to wash the awful taste out of her mouth. "You can definitely have your glass of paint stripper back." Lando chuckled rather loudly at her comment, it wasn't the first time some one had commented on his choice of drink, but her was the funniest. "You don't sound local, so I'm guessing you don't do this very often." He had to shout over the music, in retrospect he should have listened to Daniel on how to chat girls up, but she was too cute not to try. "If you mean come to clubs and talk to strangers at the bar, no. If you mean steal the drinks of very attractive men, then yes." He could barely hear her, so he had to lean in close. Her perfume was sweet and inviting, it was as if everything she said was the most interesting thing in the world, he was captivated. He was able to take her all in, a beautiful mini skirt, it was blue and iridescent, and it barely covered anything, if an elder saw her they would claim it to be a belt. Her mesh white top didn't aid in covering her any better, it did have long sleeves sure, but you could see her lacy white bra beneath it. She clearly knew how to style herself, she had lovely little white heels on and a lot of highlighter on her cheeks. She was stunning. 
"So what are you doing here ....?" She trailed off, not knowing his name. "Lando." He almost struggled to get out, so concentrated on her. "Celebrating with some friends, What are you actually doing here, other than chatting up men?" he almost laughed out, she joined him. "Looking for some fun." She hid her face behind the glass, allowing him to see the frosty blue eyeshadow on her lids. "Is that so?" He responded in a lower octave, reaching out to touch her waist with his free hand, her back immediately arched at the feeling, he was pleased to see how well she responded to his touch. She necked her drink quickly and grabbed his wrist, going to tug him out of the club. He was shocked with how her demeaner changed, she seemed so shy, but now she wanted him so desperate. Once he caught up, she stopped her by grabbing her hips firmly. "My hotel is definitely closer." Lando said, reaching for his phone. Once they were inside the taxi, he couldn't keep his hands off of her, his tongue was basically down her throat with how much he wanted her. Once of his hands snaked up her back, running his hingers over her vertebrae, her face began to warm at the feeling. 
Lando practically dragged her out of the car towards the door of the hotel. Once the lift doors shut he pushed her against the mirrors, kissing her lips again in desperation, in the process his hands grasped he sides of her face, smudging her make up. She rested her hands on his chest before pushing him back slightly, needing air. Lando however, didn't need a break, his continued his venture of kissing every bit of exposed skin, first her neck, the collar bones, there her chest. It was at this point he could also smell her body wash and lotion, their proximity was giving him good access to her body. She began to pull on his hair slightly as a sign to come back up, she reconnected their lips while he hiked her leg up around his hip, groping her ass unapologetically. The doors opened and they rushed towards his room. They didn't stop kissing until the back of her knees hit the bed, their contact broke for a second as she fell back. This gave Lando a chance to really take her in, and she was perfect. He began to lean over her, running his fingers over her neck and jaw, until he reached her mouth, she toyed with her lips before pushing his fingers between them. She sucked lightly, not breaking eye contact, Lando's breath got caught in his mouth upon the sight, licking his lips as he felt his cock get harder in his black trousers. He slowly pulled his fingers from her lips with a loud pop. She tugged her white top over head with more pace than he thought was possible, he quickly pulled her skirt down and was met with the intricate white lace of her underwear. "Fuck me." Lando rasped out, going to pull his clothes off. "I plan to." She said back, sitting up on her knees at the edge of the bed, reaching for his cock. Lando stepped closer, rubbing the tip over lips, before lightly tapping her cheeks with it, even now he was bit of a tease. She stuck her tongue out while grasping his hip, wanting him to be still while she took his whole cock in her mouth. His head fell back slightly as he groaned feeling the tip hit the back of her throat. "That's it baby, just like that." She bobbed her head over and over, motivated by the noises that slipped his mouth. He pulled off and quickly began to glide her tongue on the underside of his cock, she kissed and kitten licked the head before taking his whole cock again. He was surprised with how eager she was, no other woman was able to take the full thing, they had to use their hands to cover the base, she didn't. Lando let out blissful sigh above her, slipping his hand over her jaw, forcing eye contact. He tightened his grip when she hollowed out her cheeks, the pressure was becoming too much for him. His hips thrusting slowly was a sign of how close he was getting. Lando's hands found the back of her head, pushing it down until her nose met his pelvic bone. He lost himself in the feeling of her mouth, his cock pulsating as he moaned out quietly. Her mouth was quickly filled with his cum. "Swallow for me." She did as she was told, looking up at him when let her tongue lull out. 
Lando groaned as he stood up, walking leisurely towards the bed side table, his hand quickly met the neck of a bottle, a bottle of Ferrari champagne. She leaned back on the bed as he slammed the bottle on table before looking back at her; spraying the bottle above her. Her skin quickly became sticky with the bubbly liquid. This gave Lando an excuse to suck on her skin again, obsessed, he needed to feel her against him. He licked his way down her abdomen, once he met her cunt he sucked her clit rather aggressively, she moaned at he contact, closing her eyes to bask in the feeling. He wasted no time slipping his fingers between her slick lips. He began to scissor slowly, hungry to hear her whines at him stretching her out. He was relentless in licking her clit, switching from slow circles to shaking his head side to side, pushing his tongue down flat and hard got the best reaction from her, so he was persistent; curling fingers every now and then to receive an extra gasp. Her heels began to dig into the mattress as her pelvis began to rise; he would gorge on the sweetness leaking out of her cunt. She was quickly becoming drunk on the feeling of her blooming pleasure; rolling out a song of moans and hums. Her hips began to twitch against his face, the orgasm was a sight to behold, let a lone something too feel as her mind began to melt as he sucked and licked aggressively. She didn't know whether she wanted to pull him closer or pull away. The stimulation was too much and she began to see stars in her new found haze, moaning out curses with a mix of his name. Lando pulled away, flashing his teeth in the process of smirking. 
Once she caught her breath, he leaned closer brining the bottle with him. "Open, baby." he tilted the bottle back, letting the champagne pour into his mouth, but his Adams apple didn't bob. He grabbed her jaw and let the alcohol spill into her mouth, she swallowed quickly, wanting to feel his lips on her, he was intoxicating, a feeling she hadn't had in a long time. She was so focused on him that she didn't register being flipped over onto her stomach. Lando pulled her hips up, supporting her weight slightly. She pushed up onto her elbows as he spoke. "You gonna be good? yeah?" he said with a tinge of sass, smacking her ass lightly. She nodded, moaning out as a verbal response. He chuckled before sliding his cock through her lips, she clawed at the now wet sheets, unable to control her self. Lando started slow needing to pace himself slightly, just kissing her got him so worked up, “Fuck.” He strained, becoming more breathless with each thrust. As he continued to press into her, she couldn’t help but clench around him, the way he was hitting all the right spots, touching her skin, groaning in pleasure, made it all that much harder not to cum then and there. His hand made contact with her ass In sequence with the thrusts, the sting was painful and yet it felt euphoric, she groaned into the bedding at the feeling.
Once he pushed in to the hilt, she arched her back further, not being able to contain herself for much longer. Hot breaths filled the air, which was already filled with sex and desire.
Lando’s hand make work up her back before drawing shapes on her shoulders. His hand soo reached her scalp, where he grabbed a fist full of her hair and tugged lightly; ensuring she wouldn’t object before he pulled rather hard, causing her back to reach his chest. He kept her hair in his hand while sucking on her neck, she wanted to feel everything and he made it happen. “Oh, please Lando, please.” She asked, gasping for air after each word.
“Why? Can’t hold it?” He teased, not that he was any better off. She just felt so good and her reactions only heightened the sensation. She whined in response as he thrusted deeper inside of her pulsating cunt. He groaned in her ear before speaking again, “you didn’t answer my question baby.” He was being cocky, but in a way he knew would only turn her on further. “I can, I swear.” Her words were slurring together, making it that much more obvious that she was on the edge of euphoria. She reached around him, grabbing his waist for some support, she could barely hold her head up anymore, the over stimulation setting in quicker than she anticipated.
Lando’s hand slid back down to her clit, aiding in the blissful feeling. Rubbing figure eights over her cunt while thrusting harder made her moan louder in between heavy breaths. He was smirking into her neck, knowing how good he was making her feel. She could feel his teeth against her skin, he was biting down, almost as if to hide his voice, muffling the groans. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” He said, voice dropping an octave for a mere second. She did as she was told, practically spasming in his arms as she let out guttural moans. The feeling of her clenching caused Lando’s cock to twitch. A mix of their cum dripped down her legs and into the bed.
“Good, so good for me. Makin me feel so good baby.” Lando whispered, pulling out. He ran his hands over her body gently, it almost tickled. By the time he got under the covers, she was already asleep; hair tangled, make up smudged and skin dotted in marks that would be hard to cover with the clothes she was wearing, or lack there of. Lando was happy, it was more than the post orgasmic haze, something about her was just right. He didn’t stop touching her, keeping his arms tight around her body to keep her warm, knowing the alcohol would wear off. He felt like he’d accomplished something more than just a win.
When Lando woke up at half past eleven, skin stuck to the bedding he was surprised and confused, until he remembered, partly, what had happened that night. He looked to his side, only to find an empty bed. He shot up, quickly looking around the room for any sign of the night. He walked through the whole “room”, past the tables and sofa, only to be met with silence. Lando walked back to the bed sorrowful, knowing his flight would leave in an hour, so he decided he needed to get ready.
Once he opened the bathroom door he first noticed it was still quite warm, it wouldn’t have been because he’d used it more than 24 hours ago. The condensation on the glass was new. Someone had definitively used his shower. Wrapping a towel around his body as he left, Lando went to his suitcase to pick up some clothes for the flight, he again noticed something was off. One of his hoodies was missing. In an attempt to find it he stumbled upon a pair of white lace underwear across the room. He was please that he didn’t imagine last night, but was disappointed she wasn’t still there. Lando was broken out of his trance when he heard the sound of a notification from his phone.
“Hope you wore a condom xx”-Daniel
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Any mistakes let me know.
Part Two
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senseichaos · 2 months
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long time listener, first time caller
saw the piss thing and… do you do pissing inside? alastor cockwarming on the radio show, having to let out some tension, not wanting to get up and move to do it… maybe even lucifer on his thrown… just a thought 🫣
this is so good! Thank you for the req!
IMAGINE
(ik I use this gif all the time.. leave me alone)
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PISS WARNING ⚠️
Sometimes when Alastor does his radio show, having you nestled on his cock is the best to get out his most confident work. And he loves the way you squirm. He'd always end up having to use his tentacles or some sort of magic restraint to refrain you from moving.
This time around however, he had forgotten to do one of the most important things before sitting you on his cock.
Go to the toilet.
It wasn't a big deal, really. He could probably hold it, and he didn't need to go that badly. However as he was talking about some recent news in hell, an idea popped into his tar black mind.
"And we have some acid rain scheduled for this afternoon! Make sure you get inside, or the cannibals will eat your body after it's rotted in the rain. Or I may eat you myself! I have been hankering for some sinner meat recently.." Alastor says, reciting the last thing on his news list for the broadcast.
"Any how, let's get some music playing shall we?" Alastor says the name and creator of the song before tuning his voice out, turning off his mic so he can organize the next part of his script.
Yet as he moves, he can't help but feel his bladder clench.
"Ngh.. Alastor, how much longer..?" You ask with a pathetic whimper, trying to wiggle your hips. Alastor's tentacles tighten around your thighs as this, ensuring you won't try to shift again.
Chuckling, Alastor smooths your hair back, giving you a dark look that causes goosebumps across your bare skin.
"Hm, well I do have to urinate..." He says, looking off into the distance in a sort of thoughtful way. Your face brightens, thinking he may end his show early and go to the bathroom... Then he'd fuck you silly, just how you like it.
"Really? Well then end the show!" You say, tugging on his coat. Though Alastor captures your wrists, placing them onto his shoulders.
"Now now, that wasn't what I was implying at all, fawn,"
Your eyes widen.
"Huh?"
"Stay still for me, hm?"
He presses his hands to your hips, pushing them down so your body's are completely connected at his cock. You shriek to yourself, realizing what he's about to do. Now you weren't going to object, no no, in your own way you were more excited than anything.
"Ah!"
Before you know it, with a sadistic gaze Alastor begins releasing his piss into your hole. You cry out, clasping your hands over your mouth as you lean back against the end of his desk. You can feel it all, warm and hot as it fills you to the brim. It tickles you in ways you can hardly imagine, making you see a myriad of twinkling stars as the liquid starts to seep from your full cunt.
And it just keeps coming, his cock twitching inside of you as it releases its last few spurts of urine into you. Alastor's pants are warm and soaked with his piss, but he doesn't make a move to take you off of his cock. Instead he just keeps you there, continuing his radio show whilst pretending that nothing happened at all.
"Alastor," you begin as he puts on another song. He hums in response. "You're all soaked.." You whine, pressing your hands to his soft and slimy tentacles.
He chuckles, pinching your cheek and watching you flinch. "Just how I like it, dirty. Now hush or I won't fornicate this full cunt with my seed, hm?"
You obey without a thought.
619 notes · View notes
gurugirl · 9 months
Text
Desperate
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Based on this request.
Note: Can be read as standalone
best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship
Summary: You're invited to the Styles' house for a little get together but surely nothing will happen with a house full of people and Harry's wife nearby.
Word Count: 3,620
Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, lying, age gap
best friend's dad!harry masterlist
You had been trying to avoid going to the Styles’ home. Fae lived in her own apartment so it wasn’t like you needed to visit her family’s home very frequently. When you were younger and in college you would often go over for dinner with Fae or she’d go to your family’s house. But it wasn’t necessary anymore. Except that Mrs. Styles was throwing a small party for close friends and family to celebrate Harry being promoted to partner at his company. A big deal really. Fae told you that her mom and dad wanted you there.
And now that you and Mr. Styles had a secret little thing going on it was even more awkward to imagine what that would be like. And certainly, you wouldn’t do anything with him with all those people around, but still. You’d have to really be using your poker face. Which had been hard to do before you’d even gotten a taste of Mr. Styles. Now that you knew what he was like, how good he was, how hot and dirty he could be… you were in for a long night.
You decided on wearing a panty liner because, well, you figured for practical purposes. Getting your panties wet and having anything show through your clothes wasn’t going to be a good look. You didn’t expect that you’d really need it but you also knew how weak you got from just a mere glance. If he so much as hugged you too long or spoke to you with that deep sultry voice. If he grinned too wide with those dimples showcased… He pretty much just had you ruined. So yeah. Practical purposes. Just in case.
Fae picked you up as was planned. The ride to The Styles’ house was nearly a half hour.
“Are you okay?” Fae kept her eyes on the road. She was picking up on something with you. She just didn’t know what.
“Yeah. Of course. Why?”
“You’re quiet. Honestly, it feels like when you and I first met in junior high and how shy you were around me at first. Like you were so nervous,” Fae laughed as she glanced at you quickly.
You tried to calm yourself before she arrived. You meditated, drank chamomile tea, and then took a bite of dried ginger to calm your tummy. You did a little bit of relaxing yoga and listened to calming ambient music. And you felt like it helped.
But the moment your phone chimed with a text from Harry your heart rate increased and you began to sweat. All that hard work to calm yourself down the drain. He only asked you if you were still coming and then said he was looking forward to seeing you. That was it. There was nothing risqué or suggestive in his messages. And that was why wearing a panty liner felt necessary. He did that to you without even needing to try.
You laughed at your friend’s comment and shook your head, “No, I’m fine. Just tired. Was a long night last night at the restaurant. Barely made it home by midnight.” Not entirely a lie.
And that seemed to be an acceptable answer. At least Fae didn’t pry about your odd behavior again that evening.
Harry’s brother and his wife were there. Mrs. Styles’ parents and her cousin and her husband. A neighbor friend from down the street. You and Fae. That was it. Not many people.
There were drinks and a nice little dinner with dessert. Some music. Everyone sat outside and chatted and it was nice. It really was. But you were wound up and trying to will yourself to stop looking at the man of the hour. Every time your gaze found his it sent chills down your spine and you felt your face and neck grow warm.
Harry was friendly with you. Normal. He treated you like his daughter’s best friend. Which was good. But you hated it. You wanted to sit in his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders and laugh at his jokes with everyone around you. You wanted to hold his hand and sneak kisses. But that wasn’t going to happen. The man had a wife that was never far away. He was only yours in secret. In your apartment with the door locked and covered with lies. He was only yours when no one was watching. When no one could hear.
You were good at dinner. Barely glanced at him as you ate your food. Then after dinner you only let your eyes roam his features as he was talking to everyone and thanking them for coming. You indulged in the way his lips moved and how his green eyes sparkled. How his hands and ringed fingers gesticulated as he spoke. His grin.
He looked at you toward the end of his little thank-you speech and raised his glass upward. You raised yours upward with everyone else and then sipped together. Eyes locked. But it was only for a handful of seconds but it got you warm. Got your thighs smushing together tightly under your white linen dress.
And after dessert when everyone was casually chatting and walking around the space of the backyard, Harry put a hand on your bare shoulder and spoke quietly into your ear, “Don’t leave until you and I can have a chat.” When he spoke the word chat he squeezed at your skin and just as he began to walk away looked down at you and winked.
The panty liner was necessary.
You helped Fae restock some of the empty bottles and refresh the ice in the cooler. You tried to keep busy and not imagine what Harry wanted to “chat” about. Or if “chat” was code for something else. You weren’t sure if you hoped it was code for something more or not. Maybe a kiss. Maybe it was just a chat.
You did miss him desperately. It’d been a couple of weeks since he’d been in your bed. That’s where all of your trysts took place. At your apartment. Sometimes you could have him for the whole day. Sometimes just an hour. Once overnight.
But you had been busy and were scheduled to work and cover a few servers who couldn’t come in for whatever reason. And Harry had a business trip that had him gone for almost a week. Normally you and Harry got together about once a week. So two weeks and a half was too much.
The neighbor was a friendly guy. He seemed to be very outgoing and kind to everyone at the party. You could see why he was invited and why the Styles liked him as a close friend. He was a hoot really. In fact, talking to him and listening to his crazy story about when he was in college had you reminiscing about your own experience, and he made you laugh. He helped you forget for a moment about your little taboo affair. He got your mind off Harry for a few minutes.
But Harry wasn’t a big fan of the way you were laughing with Abe. The way Abe grasped your forearm and leaned in to tell you something quietly that had you grinning.
And so the few minutes of reprieve you had from obsessing and gushing over Harry in your brain was suddenly halted when the man was standing next to you and your new acquaintance.
“Y/n. I could use your help with something. Do you mind?” He raised a brow and pointed toward the house.
You gulped and nodded, “Oh. Sure, Mr. Styles.” You smiled politely at Abe and followed the broad-shouldered man into his home.  
He silently led you upstairs and to the large hallway bathroom that was never used. Ushering you inside he closed and locked the door.
You stood silently watching him as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his soft pink button-up shirt and then brought his eyes up to yours as he rolled the fabric up his forearms.
“Abe’s a nice guy isn’t he?” Harry finally spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning into the large vanity counter with a wall-length mirror behind him.
You nodded, “Yeah. He’s nice. Funny.”
Harry pursed his lips and let his eyes move down your body slowly to take you in. He’d seen your outfit and took daring glances at you all night but nothing was satisfying to him because he couldn't let his gaze linger. Didn’t allow himself to take in the curve of your ass or the line of your neck that met your jaw. But now he could really get a good look at you like he’d been longing for all night.
“What were you two talking about?” Harry uncrossed his arms and planted his palms on the marble top of the vanity behind him, jutting his hips out and putting his gorgeous bulge on display for you. He knew what he was doing.
“Well… nothing really, sir. He was telling me about when he was in college. We were sharing college stories.”
“Yeah? Did you find that you two have a lot in common then?” He raised a brow.
You darted your eyes to his crotch and back to his face. It was involuntary. You didn’t mean to do it but he saw where your eyes went which made him grin.
“No. Not really.” You matched his cheeky smirk with one of your own and crossed your arms over your chest when you saw his grin was teasing. He was playing with you. You’d gotten to know him a little over the months and this little thing about him put you at ease immediately.
“Why are you concerned about Abe?” You quipped.
Harry cocked his head and his grin deepened, “M’not. Come here.”
You bit your lip and uncrossed your arms as you slowly took the few steps you needed to close the space between you two.
When you’d gotten within arm’s length of him he pulled you into him by your waist, causing your hips to align with his, “I’m just concerned that I haven’t been able to fuck you in… what? Going on three weeks?”
You nodded and quietly laughed, “Yeah. 18 days.”
Harry looked pleased that you knew the number of days, “Counting the days without my cock are you?”
“Yes,” you smiled brightly and breathed out a laugh as you put your arms over his shoulders. “Miss you.”
Harry looked down at your lips and then back to your eyes, “Yeah? Too bad the house is full of guests,” Harry’s voice dropped low and raspy as he spoke, one hand moving up to your face to thumb over your cheekbone, “Bet you’d like me to bend you over and fuck you right now in this bathroom wouldn’t you?”
You frantically nodded and parted your lips, “Yes.”
Harry tsk’d at you, “So dirty. So desperate. Aren’t you? Are you desperate for me, baby?” His thumb grazed along your bottom lip before you stuck your tongue out to taste it. You were desperate.
You moaned as you tried to wrap your lips around his thumb but he removed his hand from you before you had a chance.
Suddenly he was moving you so you were being lifted up onto the counter and he was in between your legs. His hands sneaking under your dress and grasping onto your outer thighs, “When was the last time you had an orgasm? Is it really that bad?”
“This morning.” Your words were breaths.
“Really? You don’t act like you’ve been satisfied. Did you use your fingers?”
“Yes, sir. And my clit sucker. Pretended it was you,” you smirked and moved your hands down his shirt-covered chest. His dick was growing hard in his pants and you knew he was getting turned on, despite how cool he was acting.
“And you’re still so desperate? Little pussy needs a lot of attention, doesn’t it? Bet you’re already wet too.”
His hands moved upward toward your panties and you gulped when you realized what he was about to find. Your soaked panty liner. Not really very sexy.
When his fingertips came into contact with the crotch of your panties he paused with a confused look on his face. It felt different. Not wet. Not warm and soft. Not normal.
Pushing your legs apart and lifting your dress he inspected your panties and then he realized what it was when his fingers grazed along the edge of the cotton of your panty liner, “Are you on your period, angel?”
You shook your head, “No. It was just for… to keep dry.”
Harry licked his lips and pushed his middle finger under the crotch of your panties and his brows shot up, another surprised look on his face when he realized what you meant. Your panties were dry but the liner was drenched. His fingers found your crease and he toyed with your folds gently as he kissed your lips.
The kiss was soft and sweet and so were his fingers. You moaned and ran your hands into his hair as he stroked your wet labia.
But then he parted from the kiss and removed his hands from your panties, “Like I said. Too bad we have a house full of people. Bet your wet pussy would feel so good right now. Gonna fuck my fist tonight thinking about how wet you got for me before I even touched you.”
You pouted and pulled at his hands, “Please, sir. Please. We can be quiet. I’ll be quiet. I need you.”
“Wow. Look at you. Frustrated. Unsatisfied. Needy. I don’t know baby. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” But you felt his hands on your thighs again. He squeezed at them and his eyes were growing dark and the bulge under his pants was pushing hard at his zipper.
“I am needy. For you. Please, Mr. Styles. Please fuck me. You’re the only one that can satisfy me.”
Harry let out a laugh through his nose and shook his head, “That may be so but it’s too risky.”
His words said one thing but his body language said another as he didn’t release your thighs from his firm grip and wet his lips with his pink tongue as he looked down to your cleavage.
You knew it was a challenge. He wanted you to beg. But you had another idea. You’d already asked him nicely. Said please too. And he still wanted to pretend like he wasn’t bothered by you.
“I need your cock. I don’t think a toy is gonna cut it tonight, Mr. Styles.”
“You’re gonna have to be patient little one.” He thought he had the upper hand. Thought he’d get to hear you beg him some more.
“I can’t wait any longer. It aches. Do you think Abe would turn me down if I ask him?” You raised a brow in challenge.
You watched as he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He knew you were fucking with him. Slowly he opened his eyes back up as she shook his head, “Such a fucking brat sometimes.” His words sounded mean but they were lined with a smirk as he pulled your panties with its liner down your legs, tossing it onto the floor, and promptly undid his pants, pulling his cock out from the front of his briefs.
You cooed when you saw his warm, thick cock free from its confines. Reaching down to touch him you slid your hand over him as you scooted yourself to the edge and put your feet flat onto the vanity top so you were spread and easy for him to access. To fuck.
Harry’s eyes were already full of lust. His lids were heavy as he looked you over and grasped his cock into his palm, giving himself a few good pumps, holding his tip to your wet hole, “This what you wanted? Wanted to get fucked in the guest bathroom by a married man? Hmmm?” You nodded frantically as Harry’s deep voice spoke lowly into your ear, finally pushing past your tight muscle, “Wanted to me to fuck you with a house full of people wondering where I am? With my wife and daughter just down there?”
You gasped at the way his wide cock began to push through your soft, wet walls, “Yes… yes…” you whispered as quietly as you could and hung onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.
Harry let out a shaky breath mixed with a groan as he watched his cock slowly submerge into your pussy. You were so incredibly wet already that when he pulled back an inch before plunging in further he could hear it. You could hear it.
“Fuck. Can’t resist you, Y/n. This pussy is too good. You’re too good. My sweet girl.” Harry was gone for you. He began to thrust and cant his hips, dipping into your cunt so deep his balls thudded into you when he bottomed out each time.
The sturdy vanity was built into the wall which you were thankful for. Glad that the only noises that could be heard were pants and gasps and the sound of pussy being fucked.
You held tight onto his shoulders and Harry leaned in to reach for your lips and fuck you as slowly as possible to minimize the sound of skin sticking and slapping.
Your head was spinning and your limbs were hot. Harry’s grip on your thighs to keep them spread was painful but delicious. When he began to lose rhythm as he fucked into you he released one of your thighs and moved his thumb to your clit just like you needed. He always knew exactly what you needed.
“Gonna come for me?” Harry's lips stayed over your mouth as he continued rocking his hips into you.
You moaned into his mouth and gripped his shoulders tighter as your tummy started to melt and your thighs began to shake.
“Such a desperate little thing needed to come so bad. Couldn’t wait just a couple more days,” Harry’s own words were tight and strained as he felt his balls tighten. You always made him speed to his end too fast. Just like a teenager again. He couldn’t help it with you. Your pretty coos and filthy wet pussy with those bedroom eyes and plump lips. He was just as desperate for you. He needed you.
“Desperate for you, Mr. Styles. Want you so bad. Every night…” You panted and felt the hot decadence of your insides begin to unfurl as Harry’s thumb expertly rubbed and circled your clit.
He felt you begin to clamp down on him and he smothered your mouth with his, knowing you were just about to come.
He continued fucking into you in heavy, deep strokes and kissing you hard as you saw stars and writhed into his thumb. Your spasming cunt around his cock and the slick noises of your gushing orgasm had him unable to hold back.
He panted against your mouth and rutted into you hard, stuffing himself so deep that his come could coat all of your insides properly. He slowly backed out and fucked himself back into you until his balls were drained, all of his come inside of you.
He removed his thumb from your sensitive clit and put both hands on your thighs, pulling your legs up over his hips as he leaned in to kiss you. His cock was still throbbing as he came down and you connected your ankles as he smushed his mouth against yours.
You laughed against his mouth at how desperate it felt. It made you smile to know he was in the same state you’d been in.
Finally parting from the kiss with a gasp, you dropped your legs as Harry pulled himself out, hissing lightly at how sensitive he felt. Even though he’d been milking himself every night with thoughts of you, it wasn’t the same. He needed your pussy to feel satisfied just like you needed his cock. And not just his cock. Him. You needed Mr. Styles. It was becoming an obsession.
Harry dragged his finger through where his come began to leak out of you and brought it up to your lips. You promptly sucked his warm sperm from his fingers and he grinned at your eagerness.
He gently rubbed his knuckles over your cheek, “You are my sweet girl, aren’t you? When’s your next day off?”
“Wednesday. Why?” You smiled at him knowingly.
“Keep your day free. I’m coming over,” he said nonchalantly as he handed you your panties and pulled his pants back up.
“What if I had plans already?” You smirked as you pulled your panties up your legs and hopped down from the counter.
“Cancel them.” He caged you in, palms flat on the vanity counter on either side of your hips.
How could you say no? You weren’t going to anyway, but you liked to tease a little. Just like he did, “Okay. Fine. Plans are canceled for you, sir. Since you’re so hopelessly lost without me.”
Harry laughed through his nose as he shook his head, “A mouthy brat.”
He kissed you one last time before looking at himself in the mirror to straighten himself out and then walked out of the bathroom as if he hadn’t just fucked his daughter’s best friend while his wife and other family were in his house.
You sighed and turned to look at yourself in the mirror with a smile. It was so wrong. But he felt so good. And despite the fact that he was married, you knew he belonged to you.
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nightgoodomens · 8 months
Text
When Aziraphale grabbed Crowley in the dark alley, out of nowhere, Crowley was shocked to see him. He didn’t know Aziraphale appeared. He quickly figured out that he was long enough in Heaven for it to change his smell, no longer surrounded by everything he loved. No old books, no food, no cherry. Everything that smelt like home to Crowley. Aziraphale was home.
But no longer.
Aziraphale looked like he was panicking, ready to tell him something, hands holding Crowley’s arms tightly. But he froze and stared and Crowley felt like he was taking his face in. Like he missed him.
No
Don’t even go there, Crowley.
“Please listen to me.” Aziraphale finally choked out. “You need to hide. They’re coming for you. I’ve just found out!” He looked around worrying they were already here.
Crowley assumed he meant angels. Lovely.
“Where?” Hide where? In his car? He had no home. Aziraphale took it away when he left.
Aziraphale seemed to have an answer ready, but a thunderstorm made them cover their ears. They both looked to the right and saw Metatron with his Archangels behind.
“I’ve said he can’t be trusted.” Michael spit out.
Crowley hissed, ready to stand in front of Aziraphale. But the Angel stepped forward, clearly shielding him instead. Crowley looked at him surprised. What was he doing?
“You can just call this off and nothing has to happen.” Aziraphale said simply, but Crowley knew this was how a threat sounded from Aziraphale’s mouth.
“Move, Aziraphale, let us take the demon, and we will pretend you never came here to warn him.” Metatron said.
Crowley tensed. Aziraphale was not going to give up his title for him. And Crowley would struggle to fight so many archangels. He was fucked.
“No.” Aziraphale spit out.
“Aziraphale, I will remove your titles if you do not move this instant!”
Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow. “Are you?”
Before Crowley could laugh, he felt a hand reaching and grabbing his wrist and suddenly they were both gone.
This was the day he got introduced to the cottage. Aziraphale’s cottage. One he bought for them, apparently, and worked to make their embassy. So literally nobody could come in without both of their permission. Especially not demons and angels. Well, Crowley had to help with the angels part, but he didn’t need convincing.
As grand of a gesture this seemed, Crowley did not feel comfortable. They barely talked. He disappeared to whichever room Aziraphale wasn’t in to avoid them talking.
He knew that if he would start then he’d never stop and he’d be falling for Aziraphale all over again. And then Aziraphale would decide that actually the cottage was a mistake and give him to demons.
Heaven always won.
Crowley could not risk another knife to the heart.
One day they were sat together in the living room, only a quiet radio on, Crowley sprawled on the big armchair comfortably, Aziraphale on a sofa reading a book. Together for the first time. Not talking. Listening to the music and rain outside. As far away as possible from each other.
When nightingale came on the radio, Crowley felt the knife twisting in his heart again. He did not dare to switch the station or look at Aziraphale. He was planning to pretend he wasn’t hearing it.
He did not notice Aziraphale standing up and slowly moving towards him, Crowley too busy staring at a wall.
He looked up surprised when Aziraphale touched his arm.
“I was wrong,” he whispered.
Crowley felt himself tensing. He was going to give him to the angels. He knew. He knew it was going to happen.
“You were right,” Aziraphale added and Crowley noticed how tired and guilty his face looked. He’s never seen him this… sad. “Please dance with me?” Aziraphale extended his hand, eyes pleading for him to take it.
He was apologising?
Crowley kept on staring at him in shock but Aziraphale did not move, bravely standing still.
Crowley didn’t realise when he took his hand. But he was suddenly standing and their hands were together, and they continued their dance from the ball, but slower… and not interrupted.
In silence, but for nightingales on the radio.
Crowley didn’t expect Aziraphale to come closer, warm cheek to his cold one, and whisper in his ear.
“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Crowley did not know what to do. This was what Aziraphale did. Forgave Crowley. Forgave him for who he was. Like a stab in the heart each time he didn’t agree with the Angel. And this time Aziraphale was handing him the knife. Asking him to do the same to him.
Crowley looked at him wanting to say no. No matter what Aziraphale did to him, he’d never do the same to him. Not when he knew how much it hurt.
But Aziraphale had a pleading look on his face. The determination that Crowley knew so well. Knowing nothing else would be enough. And Crowley realised that the Angel would not feel the twist of a knife but a relief.
“I forgive you.” Crowley said quietly and it felt new and weird on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he meant it. He said it because Aziraphale wanted to hear it. He gave him what he wanted. Like always.
He expected Aziraphale to smile brightly and move on. But he kept on looking at him searching for something in his face. Not eyes, these were always covered now.
“One day,” Aziraphale whispered. “You will feel it. Because I will do everything to prove to you that I deserve your forgiveness. And your love. If there is even the tiniest space for it in your heart still. I promise. I love you, Crowley.”
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cixteenyne · 1 year
Note
I'm gonna ask early for that event if that's okay!! So how about being the Sakamaki's fuckdoll (diabolik lovers)? 👀
Pervy!Poly!Sakamaki’s x Fuckdoll!reader
I loved this idea so much!!! i wanted to make it even LONGERRR BUUUUTTTT i didnt know how, and the sexy music playlist stopped giving me scenarios for this, (female Aligned) (i had to look at various other smuts and videos to get these men right, partly right, since i dropped the show some time ago. hope you enJOyyYY
Content Warning(s): Polyamourous relationship, Exhibition, Edging, Cumming inside, Vulgar wording (i never hold back lol), Rough sex, Soft sex (as soft as a bloodthirsty vampire boy can get), Face fucking, mean vampires, Breeding, Somnophilia. Listen, a lot happens, ok? buckle up lmao.
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It was almost like you couldn't catch a break with them. If it wasn't one it was the other, if one was absent another would show up with some outlandish demand!
You always let them do what they wanted to you, but most of that was because- you didn't know how to do any of it.
You were a virgin before this, before the brothers. yeah, but you weren't exactly innocent, just inexperienced.
Having them take the reigns feels so much better, and it feels right
It almost feels as right as the hands that grip at your arms, tugging you to where they wanted, those soft lips that trailed so sophisticatedly down your sides, the way that Shu would drag every part of himself on you, tease you until you whined and pleaded at him so sweetly that it made his cock ache.
He wanted you to whine his name into the air of the seemingly desolate manor they lived in.
He wanted his brothers to hear, to try and get a taste for oneself. 
They would eventually, but Shu learned to be greedy. He learned to keep you to himself with those sweet kisses, those long lasting cockwarming sessions, those marks he'd leave everywhere.
He knew you preferred him if he was greedy.
If Shu wasn't in the room it was Reiji, they way he undressed you while never even thinking to take off his own attire, it was embarrassing, but they way he studied you, as if something new had popped up (it had). He wasn't even kind enough to tug his gloves off.
He just leered over you, taking a skit of time to adjust his glasses, his eyes still never leaving you. He didn't use you per se, he just liked seeing you sink your fingers into yourself.
Sometimes he'd help you with his own fingers if you begged in that pretty way he liked, other times he would be mean and not even touch himself in front of you.
It was on those days where he watched you squirm in irritation and pleasure and couldn't help but want to stick his cock down your throat. Reiji  liked the way you looked at him when he threatened it.
Or when he mentioned that pretty red rope that he just so happened to have brung with him, they way your eyes widened, in excitement, fear, he didn't care. He was entranced by any look you gave him.
Though he likes his alone time with you, he knew you'd get oh so embarrassed and bashful if another brother were to walk in.
What a coincidence, Ayato just so happened to be in the bathroom the whole time…oops!
They'd both apologize so condescendingly, “oh..so sorry for scaring you like that” a frown on his face that did not reach the mirth in his eyes at your bare state, shying away from their apologies.
Ayato heard everything, you fucking your fingers as deep as they can go in front of Reiji, begging him to help, the way Reiji teased you without even touching you, you were too cute to him, like a mouse.
Since Ayato was a bit unfair, he decided to punish you for acting so whorish without him there, his brother said nothing to defend you from his mean sibling, that coy smile and that leering gaze never leaving your body.
They were both hard, painfully so, but they wouldn't let the fun end too soon.
They knew their cocks were a bit much, but you could take them both, yeah?
Kanato was much different from his brash and unthinking brothers, he liked being close to you, since in comparison he was rather icy. He's still almost as mean as his brothers, but he's not exactly nice either, just willing to let things slide for some time before finally doing something about it. Call it karma.
You had done something particularly annoying this morning, thinking he would do nothing given how different he was from his brothers, but he was anything but mindlessly nice, no, that was your job, you were supposed to be the stupid whore who does nothing but take whatever he shoves in you with a smile, and that was what he would remind you of, in his own Kanato way.
But you have fallen asleep, what a shame! Didn't mean he was gonna stop though, it's Kanato we’re talking about.
He had walked all the way to your room only for you to be asleep, so if anything, this was perfect, more than perfect.
Kanato had stripped you of your clothing, caring not about if he'd wake you up or not, you'd take it even if you woke up, he wanted nothing of your complaining
He'd do what Reiji couldn't, he choke you with his cock until you were crying, you were sleeping so what? You got yourself into this
He unbuckled his belt, not bothering to drop his pants to the floor, to make it all the more condescending he brought that damn bear with him..
His hips hovering over your unsuspecting head, he'd slowly dipped the aching tip into your mouth, just the warmth made him shudder against his cold skin, once it slid down your tongue, seemingly in slow motion, he couldn't hold back the moan in his chest.
As more and more of his cock slid down into your mouth, coated by your tongue, and into your throat, he immediately sped up his thrusts, the first 5 hadn't woken you up surprisingly, but the next one had, you woke up and your hand sped to his hips to slow him down, but not get him off, and he noticed- you were a whore whether you noticed it or not, he had to give it to you.
He'd make sure he gave you everything he had as well.
Although Laito was kind of an asshole, he would be what you liked sometimes, but that was only when one of his brothers was spending a bit too much time with you,
Which- he was still an asshole, but in the way that made your thighs clench, when you had to sit with panties full of your own cum.
Laito was rough with the way he handled you towards the bed, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back, constricting you as he rushes with his belt, the sound has you rearing in anticipation. The zip of his pants, the indication of it already has you whining.
Your cute little whorish skirt, that- yes, he had bought you, but that didn't mean to prance around in public with your pussy practically showing. So he's treating you just how you were acting. Like a whore.
He ripped your panties, the strings of your arousal glaring at him, he slowly stroked his cock, teasing you, rubbing the tip in your slicked pussy.
He gave his cock one stroke before plunging in at a set and relentless pace, he lifted your head by your roots, forcing you to look into a mirror he knew was there all along.
 He called you such mean names, so mean that it made your eyes roll back and your knees buckle, you'd have fallen to the floor if it weren't for the bed you were bent on.
He decided you had too many layers on and reached around you, to the button of your shirt and pulled, the material instantly gave in and he was met with the sight of your tits staring back at him in the mirror,
You knew you were being loud, you knew.
But the brothers knew what was going on the moment Shu got too meaningful with his kisses.
And you knew too.
Subaru was more needy than usual, the constant need to be around you before his brothers was intense, but when you confronted him about it, he was just as aggressive as usual.
His behavior has not changed, it has just intensified.
Especially with the way he had you in his lap, putting his lips anywhere he could, taking control of your hips, drinking up every bit of encouragement from you he could. He was somehow being aggressive and affectionate at the same time, he wanted you to feel every bit of him, his hands on your waist, his head in the crook of your neck, his lips on your throat anytime you threw your head back.
He stood up to lay you on the floor, too caught up in you, and his worry of those stupid brothers of his barging in, so he opted for the floor.
He shuffled off his shirt as fast as he could, palming his cock through his pants, as he got on his knees, hovering over you between the space in your legs, he leaned down to kiss you as he pulled his hard cock out of his pants, stroking it as precum beaded at his tip, trying to relieve some stress on his cock.
You didn't know when you got naked, or which one of you took them off, but you didn't have time to think about it with the way he held his hand against your cheek and pushed his head needily into your neck, the sweet gesture didn’t match the pace of his hips at all.
He was panting so hard you’d mistake him for a hound, his hand switched to the back of one of your knees, trying to reach deeper, to make sure his cum reaches the deepest point it could, he knew he came in large amounts and he didn't want any of it spilling out, he wouldn't have any of that, not when every else had their turn with you, the thought of it only made his pace relentless, you could barely think of what's gotten into him at all.
He'd make sure you were officially his after this, but he knew his brothers would only follow the same steps, but it's all a matter of who does it first.
And that would be undeniably him.
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(Do not copy or translate anywhere until you ask! yes, you can still reblog, dont worry! <33) (Edited/Proofread 2/22/23 3:33PM)
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ladylannisterxo · 2 years
Text
Flannel and Lace
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Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Words; 1.9k
Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, dirty talk, basically just porn without plot
Summary; Eddie comes home to find you wearing one of his flannel shirts, wearing only his flannel shirt.
A/N; Listen. I am obsessed with the photos going around of Joseph Quinn's costume tests but am also distraught that they put this man in a flannel and then didn't even use it! Now, I'm just absolutely feral over it - this is the end result! I am a sucker for a good flannel, especially on a very attractive man. This is just shameless smut, enjoy!
{ masterlist }
You were early; Eddie could hear you shuffling around in his room as soon as he waltzed in the front door. He had hoped he could have some time to get settled before you arrived but then again, it’s not as if he really minded, he had given you a key weeks ago for this very reason. Queen was playing, muffled behind the closed bedroom door and he smirks, knowing you’re in his room swaying your hips to the beat and pretending to be a rockstar when you think no one is looking.
He slips down the hallway quietly, sliding off his leather jacket and denim vest as he goes, hoping to catch you in the act of rocking out. He loved how you felt the music throughout your whole body, how free you always looked. But more importantly, he loved how absolutely adorable you got when you realize you’ve been caught; how your hands cover your face and you shy away from him in pure embarrassment. Because he’s the rockstar, not you. Or, at least, that’s what you always say when he catches you. Eddie desperately wants to bring you to a gig one of these days, see how you lose your inhibitions when he begins to play.
But, of course, this is not what he sees when he pushes open the door. His closet door is hanging wide open and you’re standing in the middle of the room with one of his red flannels draped over your body. And from his vantage point, this single red flannel is the only thing you’re wearing. He groans at the sight, how can he not, and you look over your shoulder with a soft smirk and a teasing glint in your eye.
“You never wear this,” you muse, turning around to fully face him.
Eddie grips the doorknob tighter for stability, licks his lips because fuck, he was somewhat right. That blessed red flannel falls across your frame like a waterfall, a little long in the sleeves but stopping just at the tops of your thighs. It’s also unbuttoned, completely, exposing your supple skin to his searching eyes. No bra, the garment just barely conceals you and to him, you might as well not even be wearing panties because the thin lace leaves nothing to the imagination. He can feel himself growing hard just looking at you and he shifts in place, a poor attempt in controlling his lust.
“It’s, uh, it’s too hot to wear,” he chokes out, brain scrambling to formulate coherent sentences.
That’s when you finally look at him, eyes sparkling in the midday sun and Eddie wants to melt into a puddle on the floor because if you looked at him just like this every single moment of every single day, he’s sure he’d die a happy man.
“But that leather jacket you don every day is breezy as can be,” you chuckle, eyebrow arching. “I don’t know, Eds, this feels nice to me. It’s real soft.”
“It looks good on you too,” he responds automatically.
“Yeah?” You sway from side to side, the flannel moving with you like a lover keeping you close.
“Sweetheart, all my clothes look good on you.” It’s honest and Eddie didn’t realize how true that statement actually was until you kept trying on his clothes. He’s wrapped you up in his leather jacket more times than he can count and don’t get him started on the things he wants to do to you when you wear his Hellfire Club shirt.
You smile, biting your lip softly. Then you’re crawling onto his bed, granting him a full view of your ass before placing yourself on your knees, hands resting against your thighs. Your hair is a disheveled mess and the flannel has fallen open a bit more, exposing a teasing amount of your tits to him. Eddie thinks you belong on the cover of a magazine or a poster he could tack onto his wall and jack off to when you’re not with him.
“Let me guess,” you say, pulling the garment off your shoulders, “you still think it would look better on the floor.”
Eddie finally kicks his ass into high gear, crossing the room to stand directly in front of you. His fingers tug at the flannel to bring it back up over your shoulders and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle but insistent. His hands trail down to cup your breasts and you push up into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.
“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp when he tweaks your nipples between his fingers.
“I like when you wear my clothes, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, “makes me feel closer to you.”
“Sweet talker.”
“I’m serious,” he chuckles, “but you sitting here posed on my bed makes you look like something out of a magazine.”
“Oh yeah?” You ask, trailing your tongue along his jaw. “Like one of those dirty mags I found underneath your bed?”
“Well,” he begins, pulling back to meet your eyes, “you would make a great centerfold.”
Then he’s cupping your pussy in his hand and your breath stutters in your chest. He smirks before kissing you again, fingers working diligently against your clothed heat.
“Eddie, please, please,” you whine, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt.
His hands make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pulls, your legs coming out from under you as you drop unceremoniously onto your ass. He pulls on you again and you’re brought to the edge of the bed where he’s already waiting, down on his knees. Your heart flutters with anticipation.
Eddie’s breath is hot against your still clothed pussy and you shift your hips closer, silently begging for what you want most from him. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours as he teases a single finger across the lace. You let yourself drop to lay flat on your back with a sigh, deciding to let him do whatever the hell he wants to you.
“So wet,” he murmurs when he pushes your panties out of the way, “is this all for me?”
“Yes,” you sigh, “all for you, baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Is that right?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer; he flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks a firm stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan loudly, hands immediately flying to tangle in his hair. His tongue circles your clit before latching on to suck fervently against the bundle of nerves. You arch your back, fingers tightening, keeping him right fucking there. Two of his fingers slip inside of you without warning, setting a steady pace as he pulls every single sigh and moan he can from you.
“Oh fuck,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
His mouth pulls off your clit with a resounding pop and then he’s moving up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss, fingers still working inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes wide as he watches you come undone beneath him. Rolling your hips in a frenzied pace, you take his fingers deeper and deeper until your orgasm pitches through you like gasoline being poured over an already blazing fire. Eddie works you through it, he always does, and once your hips come to a stop and the spasms have subsided, he slips his fingers out of you and brings them to your awaiting mouth.
“That’s my good girl,” he muses when you wrap your lips around his fingers, “see how good you taste?”
You hum in agreement, swirling your tongue around his digits. He groans at the sensation before pulling his fingers from your mouth abruptly and bringing that same hand down to smack your ass sharply. You jolt, pushing your body further into him and he wraps his arms around you and rolls, bringing you up to straddle his hips.
“Think you can give me one more?” He asks, shifting his hips for you to feel his hard cock against your thigh.
You waste no time in helping rid him of his clothes. Your fingers start at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before latching your lips onto his collarbone and licking and sucking your way down to your prize. When you reach the denim of his jeans, you slide off the bed long enough to unfasten them and pull them and his boxers down in one fluid motion. You straddle his waist again, rolling your hips across his cock. His hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading the flesh tightly in his fingers and you bring the flannel back down off your shoulders. Turns out Eddie was right, it does get a bit too hot.
Grasping his cock in hand, you line him up at your entrance and sink down onto him slowly, enjoying the ache of him stretching you out. Eddie groans at the feeling of you already clenching around him, his hands bunching the fabric of his flannel around your waist to grip your hips tighter, to help you move against him.
Your hands fall flat on his chest for stability, his tattoos peaking out at you from in between your fingers. Fuck going slow and steady, you set a rapid pace, bouncing on his cock with what could only be described as pent up aggression, taking him fast and hard and deep.
“Fuck, yes,” you mewl, throwing your head back with an elongated moan.
“That’s it, baby,” he praises, smacking your ass again. “Ride my cock until you cum.”
His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing firm and tight circles, taking you higher and higher. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, coursing through your veins like a tidal wave. You bite your lip with a whimper, one hand smacking against the wall in front of you to find purchase. Eddie has leaned up to capture a nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened peak, and the onslaught of these added sensations has your orgasm crashing over you.
Crying out Eddie’s name as pleasure overtakes you, he wraps one arm around you and flips you until you're flat on your back. He hikes your leg up on his hip and fucks you hard through your high, chasing his own release. Your nails rake down his chest, leaving wild and red scratches in their wake, as you roll your hips against him meeting him thrust for thrust for thrust.
“Eddie, please, cum inside me,” you whine, “I want to feel it.”
“Fuck,” he grunts and with two more hard thrusts, he’s exploding inside of you, warming you up from the inside.
Eddie pulls out of you gently and pulls your panties back in place, keeping all of him inside you. He kisses you then, all tongue and teeth, pulling you close, so close, you could meld into one single being. He interlocks his fingers with yours, lips pressing gentle kisses along your knuckles as you brush his hair away from his eyes.
“That was - shit, you really went for it,” he says after a moment, a teasing gleam in his eyes.
“I did say I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you remind him, “although I wasn’t expecting you to get this hot and bothered over me in your clothes.”
“Fuck, sweetheart, you could be completely naked or covered from head to toe and I’ll always get hot and bothered over you,” he says, capturing your lips in another kiss. “But I’m pretty sure this flannel is yours now.”
“Good,” you whisper, pecking his lips again, “I wasn’t going to give it back anyway.”
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rinhaler · 2 months
Note
As promised!!! Since I love your writing, I had this imagination spark while listening to Chase Atlantic's "HEAVEN AND BACK" song, oddly to say I associate Rin Itoshi in every CA songs. Basically could I request a steamy one-night stand of him meeting reader in a big crowded bar where Rin is likely a bass guitarist? Sounds cheesy of it but XD
GLAD U SAID BASS PLAYER MY BOYF PLAYS BASS 😭 sorry this took SO long to post but I hope u like it :3
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, alcohol consumption, (kinda fast) enemies to lovers, fingering, love bites, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess etc.), squirting.
words: 2.2k
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It’s been years since you’ve been to a gig. Especially one like this, in a dingy dive bar for a barely known local band. The guitarist is a friend of your cousin’s. And she just about begged you to go.
The place is pretty packed and the music definitely isn’t the worst you’ve heard. In fact, you found yourself swaying your hips and tapping your toes along to the beat. As the night went on and on, you were surprised to find that they were actually good. Good enough to be searching for their latest single when they promoted it at the end of their set.
“Play nice please,” your cousin begs. “I really like him, and I think tonight might be the night.”
“I knew he wasn’t just a fucking friend.” you laugh. She crosses her arms across her chest as embarrassment surges through her, but you still decide to tease her. “You really needed me to help you get some dick?”
“Shut up!” she blushes. “You always have guys falling at your feet so I thought it might rub off on me.” she pouts.
You clear your throat when you notice the guy in question heading your way. She turns around, instantly, smoothing her hair down and putting on the highest, girliest voice she can muster. He seems interested enough without her needing your help, but you decide to stay a few extra seconds for moral support. She giggles at every sentence and smiles giddily whenever he speaks.
“Tone it down, you’re good.” you whisper in her ear before slinking away to the bar.
You signal for a drink, thankful for the low-cut top you’re wearing as everyone else seems to be instantly ignored in favour of you. There’s a scoff beside you, one you choose to ignore until he watches you receive your pint of beer.
“Is there something on my face?” you ask.
“No.” he responds. “I’m jealous of your drink, princess.”
“Excuse me, can you get this guy a beer too?” you yell. The bartender nods with a smile and quickly acquiesces. “Will that put a smile on your pretty face?”
He smirks but shakes his head as he ignores you. He thanks the bartender as he receives his own drink, the frothy head attaching itself to his lip before he licks it away. He grunts a little as he feels a passerby knock into the big black case on his back. It’s only then that you notice it, and pieces begin to fall into place.
“Oh fuck. You were in the band.” you smile excitedly as you angle your body to face him. “I wasn’t gonna come tonight but I’m glad I did.” you giggle as you pull up your phone to show the bands single saved in your music library.
“Thanks.” he nods. “Why did you come?”
“Uh my cousin is trying to fuck the guitarist.”
“You’re Ada’s cousin?” he asks, expression changing to one of slight annoyance. He takes another swig of his beer before elaborating. “Zantetsu hasn’t shut up about her and she’s always crashing our practices. I hope they get it over with, it’s getting in the way.”
“Oh you’re a serious musician. Gotcha.” you roll your eyes. “You know you play the most boring instrument out of everyone, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“Drummers are the hottest, guitars are the most iconic, everyone’s drawn to the singer. And then there’s… you. No one can even hear you over all of that, you know.”
He scoffs once again. You can tell he wants to fight you on it and fill your head with facts about his instrument of choice. But it’s almost like he already knows you and how stubborn you are. He could tell you anything he wants, but you’ll die on the hill you’ve decided to climb just to piss him off more.
“They’d sound like shit if it wasn’t for me.” he mumbles before taking another drink. “The bass is the most important part, you’re clueless. It’s like you’ve never listened to music in your life.”
“Clueless?” you repeat. “Besides, you’ve got a pretty face. I’m sure if your attitude wasn’t so rotten and you were the lead singer you’d be drowning in pussy.”
“I do alright.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You squint your eyes sceptically. There’s no doubt that he has the potential to pull a girl or two. And, admittedly, you’ve had one very hostile conversation with him. But you can tell from his sulky demeanour that any woman he has a chance with is likely scared off by his attitude.
He tries to ignore you for the remainder of his drink.
God, he tries.
But he’s overwhelmed by the desire to put you in your place.
“I—”
“There’s no way you’re getting girls.” you interrupt him immediately. “Like, no way. Maybe one or two, but you’re not doing better than the lead. He’s gorgeous and he’s the face of the band.”
His smile is wicked as he holds his near empty glass, swilling the golden liquid around the bottom before he puts it down on a coaster. “You really don’t get it, do you?” you’re a little taken aback as he bites his lip whilst looking at you from the corner of his eye.
His expression makes your heart beat a little faster. You find yourself shuffling in your seat as you see just how strikingly handsome he really is when he’s trying. And then it hits you, he’s trying. He’s showing you what he’s capable of and you’re falling for it. Even with the knowledge, it’s too late. All you can think about his that sharp jawline and striking stare.
“You know what they say about bass players.” he says quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. His barstool spins so he’s facing you. You take a sharp inhale as he slowly leans in towards you, the smell of beer on his pretty lips makes you heady and excited, waiting with bated breath for him to continue. “They’re good with their fingers.”
You can’t stifle a laugh as he pulls away, giggling like your cousin had been moments prior whilst flirting with the guitarist. It’s embarrassing, letting him see you reduced to this after trying to irritate him. You clear your throat and try to gain your composure.
“You’re disgusting.” you respond.
“Mmm, you want to find out though, so,” he shrugs, finishing the last dregs of his drink. “I’ll wait by the entrance for ten minutes, if you don’t come find me, I’ll leave without you.” he walks away without even looking at you.
You don’t get a chance to say a word before he seamlessly weaves through the crowd and out of sight. Without thinking, you’re already on your feet and checking the time.
Ten minutes.
You rush through the bar to find Ada, tapping on her shoulder to pull her attention away from Zantetsu. “I’m leaving. Seal the deal, please.” you wink. She nods, laughing as you kiss her cheek and rush towards the entrance.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you saw his face light up when he realised you were actually going to take him up on his offer. He plays it off, though, trying to appear cooler and more aloof as you approach him.
“It’s barely been two minutes.” he tells you.
“I’m not gonna let you hear the end of it if you’re all talk.” you smirk.
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The minute he gets you inside of his apartment, you can’t keep your hands off each other. Your lips are on his in an instant, your breath stolen as he lifts you from the ground and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carries you into the kitchen.
He helps you out of the vest top you’re wearing when he sits you down on the counter so you’re down to your jeans and bra. You tilt your head as he peppers your neck in a combination of soft and sloppy kisses.
Your heels fall off without effort as you instinctively open your legs, rolling your hip against his clothed abs.
“My roommate is out,” he tells you quietly, still kissing you all over. You moan softly as he starts leaving soft bite marks across your skin. “He’s such a clean freak, he’d lose it if he knew—”
“It’s okay,” you giggle, you cup his face and direct him to kiss you again. “Help me get my jeans off.”
He wastes no time unbuttoning them and yanking down the zipper. He keeps his eyes on yours as he helps you shimmy out of the wide-legged jeans, smiling at you as you both hear them crumple on the ground.
“Gonna show me what a stud you are?” you ask, spreading your legs to reveal your dark, lewd panties. There’s a glint of amusement in his eye, which soon turns into a toothy grin as he runs his finger along the damp slit. “Fuck,”
“You’re soaking for me already, good girl.” he tells you. He begins to rub your clit over the lace covering your flesh, and you’re immediately putty in his hands. Your legs quiver slightly, and you rush to close them, but he pries them apart before leaning in to kiss you. “Keep them open for me.” he demands before slipping his tongue between your lips.
“Haah.. haaaah~!” you whimper, his featherlight ministrations seeming like magic as he continues to tease your clit.
“Fuck,” he grunts, fingers curling around the waistband of your panties before he begins to tug. “Off. Get them off.” he demands, ordering you to wiggle on the counter until he manages to peel them from your cunt and slip them down your legs. He distracts you with a kiss as he shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.
Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as he resumes circling your now bare clit. Your face is picturesque, he thinks, as your eyes become heavy and your pants are more uncontrollable.
“Are you faking this to piss me off?” he wonders. You shake your head slowly. “You’re so sensitive…”
“S-Shut up,” you bite your lip before giggling. “Haven’t gotten any in a while.”
“Well we can’t have that. Better make up for lost time.” he grins, fingers traversing from your throbbing clit to your entrance. His jaw hangs low, moaning in faux sympathy as he starts to stretch you immediately with two fingers. “You’re so tight baby, takin’ me so well.” he tells you.
He doesn’t wait for a response before his head sinks to nestle in the crook of your neck as he assaults your skin with a cacophony moans and sucks, decorating your flesh with his name in a purple and blue masterpiece.  
Your cunt squelches as he presses his fingers deeper and deeper into your gooey interior, eagerly searching for your sweet spot and hellbent on targeting it. He hears you squeak, body almost falling limp with a particularly delicious curling of his fingers. You feel his smug expression against your pulse point, but instead of mocking you, his canines gently graze against it.
“She’s so loud for me, baby. Your sloppy little pussy loves me.” he breathes. You throw your head back as he continues to delve deeper and deeper until you can no longer fight off the urge to scream his name.
“FUCK, Rin!” you cry. “There! R-Right there!”
“There, princess?” he asks, though it’s rhetorical. He already knows what you want and what he needs to do. You’re happy you goaded him. But he’s happier to know he’s proving you wrong. “You’re squeezing so tight… won’t be able to play with your pussy or my bass if you break my fingers.”
“Sto- stop. Goddddd Rin I’m gonna c-um. Gonna cum!” you warn him, as if he didn’t already know. You wrap your arms around his neck in a needy display that makes you sick, but you don’t care enough to stop. He doesn’t mind, either. Making out with you passionately, swapping spit as drool dribbles and pools from each of your mouths. His lips remain connected to yours by a single string of spit as you break away to moan through your high.
He swallows them, though. Transfixed by the feeling and pride that you’re offering your prettiest sounds for him to devour while your legs quiver violently on either side of his hand.
You throw your head back as your pussy begins to squirt and douse his fingers. He doesn’t even flinch, immediately using his free hand to swipe across your clit to extend your pleasure and further the mess spurting from the apex of your thighs.
“She really likes me, baby.” he smirks at you, an expression so smarmy you’d punch him if he hadn’t made you feel so good. “You came so fast for me.”
“You’re welcome.” you giggle, leaning forward to kiss him. “I got what I came for so I’m gonna leave now.” you tell him as you pretend to free yourself of his hold. He shakes his head, lower lip tugged by his teeth as he tries to supress a smile.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Nowhere near through with you yet.”
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© 2024 rinhaler
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342 notes · View notes
kaleldobrev · 4 months
Text
Never the Favorite
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Platonic Pairing: Sam Winchester & F. Reader
Summary: You finally try and set the record straight
Word Count: 844
Warnings: Cursing (1x)
Authors Note: Takes place during season one | Something that always got me, is whenever Sam said something along the lines of Dean being the favorite child. Like Sam, he wasn’t and it was pretty clear so that’s what I based this fic on | Let me know if you like the new way I have formatted | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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It was another classic Sam and Dean argument — Sam telling Dean how he was never the favorite child growing up and how Dean actually was; and how much of a black sheep of the family Sam had felt because he didn't want to go into the family business. It was an argument and a sentiment that you were so used to hearing at this point that you could pretty much recite word for word their replies. The boys were starting to sound like broken records, and you and Dean had only picked up Sam from Stanford a few months ago.
You didn't want to get involved in their argument as you felt like it wasn't really your place, but there was a part of you that started to get annoyed with Sam, because you knew that Dean was never the favorite — Sam always was. You knew how hard Dean had tried over the years to try and get his father's approval, but it was approval that he would never be able to get, no matter how hard he tried. It killed you inside, because you loved Dean for who he truly was, not who he was pretending to be.
But because you had heard this argument so many times, you had told yourself that you were finally going to say something to Sam; to try and stop this argument once and for all.
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Parking Baby and cutting the engine, Dean pulled out his wallet from the glove compartment, pulling out a crumpled up 20 that he won from a poker game a few nights ago. “Gonna grab some snacks. Either of you want anything?” He asked before turning to you. “Want your usual chocolate anything?”
You gave him a small smile. “Yes please. And orange soda if they have it.”
“Getting you the bottle this time. ‘Cause I don’t want another spilling incident like last time with the can,” he said, giving you a wink. “How about you?” He asked, turning to Sam.
“I’m good thanks,” Sam nodded, before pulling out his phone and promptly started checking his e-mail.
“Alrighty,” Dean said, getting out of the car. “Be back in ten.”
As soon as Dean was out of eyeshot and earshot, you sat up closer to the passenger side where Sam was, placing a hand on the back of the seat. “Hey, I know he’s your brother and the whole point of brothers is basically being assholes to each other but, I really need you to lay off the whole Dean being the favorite stuff.”
Sam turned to you, placing his phone in his lap; the look he gave you was of pure confusion. “But he is the favorite. Always has, always will be. I know you probably wouldn’t know that consider —”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you began, slight attitude in your voice. “I’ve been hunting with Dean and your father for about a year now, and let me tell you, I didn’t need to be around for your childhoods to know that you were and are still the very clear favorite.”
“Me? The favorite?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
You rolled your eyes. “Did it ever occur to you why he’s so similar to your dad? Why he barely shows any of his actual interests around anyone but me? Dean wears his jacket, listens to the same music, says the same phrases.”
“But…that’s how Dean always has been," Sam stated. For as long as he could remember, that's always how he remembered Dean, being so similar to their father. Memories flashed before him, recalling numerous times where him and his father sang along to Zeppelin during one of their many insanely long car rides to Pastor Jim's, or how Dean would refuse to go anywhere without their father's leather jacket.
"You really know nothing about your brother do you?" You asked him, slight sadness and hurt entering your voice. You hadn't known for very long, but you had known him long enough for him to start letting you in and getting to know the real him, and not the facade he let everyone else believe. "The only reason Dean acts like your father is because in his mind, if he acts like him he'll get the approval he always wanted that you never had to try and get." You felt your blood start to boil. "So please stop with the fucking favorite argument okay? I'm sick and tired of it."
Sam was silent for a moment, as he's never seen you this angry before nor has he ever seen you this defensive of anyone. As much as he wanted to disagree with you, he knew that he couldn't because he clearly didn't know Dean the way that you did. He might of spent 18 years of his life on the road with him, but he didn't actually know him. "Okay," he finally said, slightly sighing.
"Just...don't tell Dean I said any of this to you okay?" You asked him, slightly patting his shoulder.
"Of course," he said, slightly smiling.
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itaipava · 6 months
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— moments that made you fall in love a little more with f1 boys.
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˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS
you fall in love a little more when you catch him looking at you with so much love and sparkle in his eyes. no matter what you’re doing, he always look at you with that genuine love that always makes your heart race in your chest and a small smile appear on your lips. it reminds you that you’re so deeply loved for who you are and that you couldn’t be happier.
˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO
you fall a little more in love with each laughter shared at not-the-best times; it’s those moments when the two of you are arguing, both frustrated and upset with the other, and yet somehow, all of a sudden, you burst out laughing in spite of yourselves. it’s those moments when things are not going your way and stress is taking over, but you try to ease through it by having a good laugh together, lightly making fun of yourselves and each other; it’s those moments where you just pause to look at each other and think ‘wow aren’t we just a couple of idiots.’ well, at least you get to be idiots together.
˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ
you fall a little more in love when you realize that you can communicate with a single look, a brief meeting of the eyes. there’s something so special about being able to talk to someone without actually having to do so. coming home after a long day and not having the energy to even want to speak but feeling slightly better after receiving a soft, understanding gaze and a reassuring squeeze of the hands from him. or feeling your heart soar when the two of you share eye contact over an inside joke.
˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC
you fall in love a little more at dinners or meetings with each other’s families and feel completely at home. it’s that euphoric feeling of belonging, as if you were exactly where you should be; it’s the sweet, beatific feeling that the love of your life is now part of your family and that you are part of his. it’s the feeling of being included in a family vacation; being treated as if you were a daughter, granddaughter, sister, niece… it’s so beautiful, special and unique for you, to be accepted and loved by those who root for your happiness.
˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON
you fall in love a little more when you do your own thing together; on lazy and calm days where you share a peaceful and unique atmosphere while your love subtly floats in the silence you two share while he is reading a book and you are listening to music with your headphones. just the sounds of turning pages and soft, barely audible hums and him lying down beside you, holding the book in one hand and with the other tracing light caresses and circles on your thigh. it’s times like this when you feel more in love than ever and thinks to yourself ’so this is what it’s like to want to be with someone forever…’
˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI
you fall in love a little more when he starts practicing your hobbies; it’s that subtle moment when he asks more about your favorite band or when you enter the room and see him listening to your favorite song. it’s when he asks you to help him do something you like; like playing the guitar or cooking. your heart warms and races in your chest when you realize that he is doing this for you, because he wants to have fun with you. and at that moment you couldn’t be more in love.
˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN
you fall a little more in love when life gets hectic and is packed with endless schedules, but nothing changes between you two. the possibility of drifting apart because of his lack of free time is one of his biggest worries but you - and him - feels more in love than ever as the two of you make the best of the time you have over facetimes, a quick talk over breakfast, rare and precious lazy days, or a spending nice, quality time on date nights. it’s that reassuring feeling that you may lead separate lives, but you don’t let that come between your bond.
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satansindexfinger · 2 years
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Giving the Brothers the Cold Shoulder After an Arguement
Warnings: self-deprecation and allusions to depression (Levi)
Summary: After getting into a heated arguement with your demon partner, you decide ignoring them is the best way to handle it. When do forced to interact you remain cordial but it's obvious to anyone you aren't letting up.
Lucifer; Mammon; Levi; Satan; Asmo
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Lucifer
Two can play that game. If you think Lucifer, the representation of pride himself, is going to break and come crawling back to you? You've got another thing coming.
He's more than willing to reflect your withdrawn attitude, and he does it exceptionally well. If nobody knew about your relationship prior they would think you're just mere acquaintances.
Of course, he will keep up the appearance of formality by engaging in minimal conversation like, "MC, would you pass the salt?", "Diavolo mentioned he wanted you to attend today's council meeting.", "Don't you think it's too late for you to be roaming the halls?"
But nobody can miss the ruby glare, that he convinces himself is subtle, he sends your way every time.
Unfortunately it will take awhile for Lucifer to get over his ego enough to properly address the situation. The more stubborn you are at ignoring him, the more irritated he gets, and the more determined he is to keep the apathetic facade up.
It's the accumulation of small things that eventually get him to reconsider. How empty his bed feels when you're not in it. How listening to music isn't nearly as relaxing without his human leaning their head on his shoulder. How the coffee tastes bitter when not prepared by you. How your avoidant gaze makes his heart sink.
His brothers, and even Diavolo, can feel the anger seeping through his skin as they would get the brunt of it.
After a surprisingly long amount of time, Lucifer will break. He'd make up some valid excuse that involves you visiting his study, and once you go in he will make sure you are not getting out. Not until you hear him out.
"How much longer are you planning on handling this like a child?! Is this how you deal with confrontation? By avoiding it?"
The demon catches himself and his stern glare almost instantly turns into a regretful pout. He recognizes it's his pride and ego that got you both to this point with a shake of his head. He stares at the floor for a few beats before lifting his head up with furrowed brows.
"I... I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I never thought I would be affected by some human ignoring me but this only made me realize you're not just some human to me. I should've insisted we talk about this properly before resorting to this. So, would you allow me to make things right? Let's talk... I can't bare to be apart from you like this."
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Mammon
He's quick to pout and exaggerate how much he's ignoring you back. Verbally.
"Pfff, as if I'd care if MC doesn't wanna talk ta me. Can someone tell them how much I'm ignoring them and how I dont wanna see their stupid face ever again? 'Cause I don't!"
It only lasts for a day. It takes Mammon going up to your door, about to break in and excitedly drag you out somewhere, as usual, until it hits him that oh shit. You're still meant to be mad at each other. His hand hovers over the door knob for a bit until he sulkingly leaves.
Getting ignored by you is honestly killing him. As much as he tries to act like he doesn't care, it's beyond obvious how much he's trying to get your attention back. The lingering looks and his overall childlike whining is more than enough to indicate he is missing you. His brothers are beyond tired of his complaning, too.
He can't restrain himself from busting your door down and demanding you stop giving him the cold shoulder. It's been three days! Surely you aren't mad at him anymore and you can go back to cuddling, right?!
"C'mooooon, MC! I'm sorry I made ya mad, I'll make up fer it! Anythin'! So just stop ignorin' me already.. I miss you."
He's aware of how desperate he's being and it makes him red from embarrassment, but he'd rather be honest than go through this torture. He'll keep one in mind to be more considerate in the future so it wouldn't resort to him being avoided by you ever again.
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Leviathan
Levi's the one who would take it the hardest out of everyone. Boy's self-esteem is fragile enough as it is and getting ignored by you would just shatter whatever remainder he had of it. Don't expect to see him out of his room for awhile.
Henry's getting a front row seat to Levi's self-deprecation galore. Of course he made you so mad you don't want to talk to him! He's surprised you even spent time around him in the first place! Why did he ever think you'd stick around his gross, annoying, socially inept otaku self? He did this to himself, right, Henry?!
At this point Levi's forgotten what you two even argued about; he's too busy holing himself up in his room and trying to distract racing thoughts with games and anime. It doesn't feel the same without his player two though. He's just going through the motions without paying full attention to what he's playing/watching.
It goes on for a week or so until one of the brothers has to step in and convince you to go check up on him. As mad as you are at him still, everyone knows you're the only one Levi will answer the door to. He's been falling behind on his assignments, not even coming out for meals (thanks to his snack stash).
You're surprised to find his door unlocked. You spot him in his bed/bathtub, clutching at a pillow, looking absolutely miserable. He lifts his head up to chew you out for bargning in until he realizes it's you. He gets up so suddenly he almost falls over.
"M-MC?? What are y-you doing here?! Did my brothers send you here...? Because I know you'd rather die than see me; I screwed up so you're finally tired of me. You don't have to try to make me feel better. Just go tell them I'm fine."
Just looking at him makes you feel bad, no matter how pissed you were. It takes a lot of convincing that you do not wish he was dead and that you just want to talk. Levi will be apologizing every few words, possibly cry, but after a thorough conversation he will calm enough to reevaluate what started this.
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Satan
Satan will be furious enough during your heated exchange as it is; so much so he would force you out of whichever room you're in so you don't have to witness him tearing it to shreds. He's already feeling guilty for losing his composure around you but after you start ignoring him completely??
Man's going to need a two hour session of letting out pent up rage in his room every day this goes on for. Of course, he will not let any of it show in public. Especially around you.
Much like the eldest, he will remain cordial with you. Not so much to save face as to prove that he is a-okay without you, and that this doesn't bother him at all. Even though he is absolutely not okay and it bothers him to an absurd degree.
Unlike Lucifer, however, it takes him much less time to swallow his pride and talk to you. He recognizes you're both dealing with a silly arguement in your own childish way and have to deal with it by having a civilized conversation.
Definitely not because he looked up heaps of books and resources on couple disagreements and how to fix them.
"Listen. This has gone on for far too long, so don't you think it's about time we settle this? I'm sorry I lost my temper. It wasn't right of me. I don't like this distance we have right now.. let's fix it. I will hear you out properly this time. As long as you can do the same for me."
Surpsingly very mature and understanding about not just the cause of the arguement, but why you chose to avoid him. He promises to do better and give you both time to cool down if you were to ever have an arguement again so it doesn't end in you taking these drastic measures.
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Asmodeous
This is just a phase, right? You were just being overdramatic in the moment and you'll be back to showering him with attention soon! Right? How could you stay mad at his beautiful face for long?
Asmo will delude himself into believing the above so strongly. He will continue to act as he normally does around you, all cuddly and affectionate, thinking your attitude is you just playing hard-to-get.
"Awwww, cmon, MC! You can stop acting upset now! Although your pouty attitude is really cute~"
When you keep making it clear you want nothing to do with him for the time being, the avatar of lust is internally shattering. He thrives off of your attention. Having it taken away is worse than withdrawal. Not that he will make it obvious the first few days.
Seeing that clinginess isn't helping him, he will attempt to make you jealous by alluding to his fanbase and how lucky any one of them would be to have him. Ironically this backfires as it turns you even colder to him. He is at a loss and at his breaking point. What else can he possibly do?!
It all boils down to Asmo getting tipsy at a party one night and seeking you out. Crying, clinging to your clothes, blubbering about how lonely he is without you, and what he would do to get your grace back.
"Darling, please!! I miss you so much, I don't think I can take it! I love you so so much, just please look at me in the eyes again! You still love me more than anything, right? Whatever I did to make you mad I'll show you I didn't mean it! Just let me. I want to feel your love again... can't be myself without it."
It's a shame he has to be under the influence to spill what he's really thinking, but it manages to soften your resolve enough. Expect to get pampered and spoiled to hell for weeks as that's his way of making things right.
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gimmethatagustd · 10 months
Text
needy | jjk (ft. myg)
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Jungkook refuses to admit that he has feelings for you, but he's slowly cracking under the pressure. Will his bright idea of asking his friend to seduce you be the final thing that helps him get over his interest in you?
↳ pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x f!reader x yoongi (from babydoll)
↳ rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | fwbs | smut
↳ wc/date: 4.3k | July 2023
↳ warnings: marijuana (is it really a jai fic without weed??), a failed attempt at cuckolding, humiliation, degradation, yoongi and jungkook are kinda like "good cop, bad cop" except jungkook is more of a sub than he thinks he is, soft dom!yoongi, sub!reader, sub!jungkook, vaginal fingering, blow jobs (crying, throatfucking), cunnilingus, oral sex between yoongi and jungkook so if that's not your thing ya better exit outta here, protected vaginal sex, reader gets fairly non-verbal during sex
↳ notes: i highly recommend reading babydoll first, but this can be read as a standalone. i think i covered everything in the warnings? but if i didn't list something, pls let me know. i'm really tired lmfao
↳ masterlist / taglist
↳ what was jai listening to? like i would - zayn  
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“Hey, love. Can I call you love?” 
You give Yoongi a bashful smile and nod your head. He brings his hand to your thigh, softly running his fingers along your exposed skin. 
The three of you sit in Jungkook’s apartment, with you and Yoongi on the couch and Jungkook in a chair on the other side of the room. Jungkook nurses a half-finished blunt between his lips and allows the marijuana to fog his memories of how he’d gotten here. 
You giggle at whatever Yoongi whispers in your ear, your freshly manicured fingers pressing against your lips. Jungkook undoes the button at the neck of his dress shirt and shoulders his suit jacket off. He’d forgotten he was still wearing it. 
Leaning back, Jungkook watches you squirm when Yoongi’s hand reaches the hem of your skirt. You stare at Yoongi with heavy red eyes. His eyes match yours, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. 
Your sorority formal was a bust, not to Jungkook’s surprise. Spending the night in a seedy nightclub, humid with the stench of sweat and beer, with a bunch of wasted college kids wasn’t exactly Jungkook’s idea of fun.
He told himself a thousand times that he wouldn’t agree to go with you. Yet Jungkook put on his only suit and slicked back his hair, which was getting to be a bit too long. He spent an hour pregaming with your lame friends, who Jungkook believes really shouldn’t be your friends, and another hour and a half dancing at the nightclub that was just as terrible as he knew it would be. 
Had he had fun? Absolutely the fuck not. The moment you started grinding your ass on his dick when more sexually explicit music started playing, he’d quickly snatched your wrist and dragged you out of the club. Now you’re in Jungkook’s apartment, stumbling home in the middle of the night, all dolled up and looking prettier than Jungkook has ever seen you.
It was just a coincidence that you ran into Yoongi, Jungkook’s neighbor and decent friend, in the hallway of their apartment complex. The thing is, Jungkook saw the way Yoongi eyed you in your little black skirt that just barely covered your ass and the swell of your tits bubbling out of your corset. He saw the way Yoongi licked his lips, pausing longer than necessary to chat with the two of you as he fumbled with the keys to his apartment.
Jungkook still isn’t sure what he was thinking when he invited Yoongi over when it had been clear that he was dragging you home to fuck you, but you didn’t protest when your night turned into a smoke session with Jungkook’s friend. 
A few blunts later, Jungkook had pulled Yoongi into the kitchen while you lounged on the couch. 
“You want me to what?” 
“Fuck her.” 
“Like, right now?” Yoongi had taken in a sharp inhale as his eyes widened. “Does she like me?” 
Jungkook had rolled his eyes in response, passing the blunt to his friend while he searched for words. It wasn’t fair to act like Yoongi was the idiot here when Jungkook asked something highly unexpected out of him, not to mention that Jungkook wasn’t being honest about why. 
“Yeah, I know the face she makes when she’s interested. She keeps looking at you like that.” Had he been lying? Maybe. Yoongi is cute, objectively. You probably think so, too. The fuck if Jungkook knows. 
All Jungkook knows is that he needs his favorite hookup to get the fuck out of his head. He’s tired of seeing your face when he fucks other people. He’s tired of opening and closing Instagram just to refresh your profile. He’s tired of caving whenever you text him to come over, always staying the night despite Jungkook’s no-sleepovers rule. 
Yoongi is a good friend. He’s consistent, reliable, and open-minded. Plus, weed makes Yoongi horny anyway. Jungkook is honestly doing him a favor. 
But something stirs in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach when Yoongi finally slips his hand beneath your skirt after playing at the hem. Compared to Jungkook, what Yoongi lacks in size and strength he makes up for in the softer features Jungkook knows girls like: large hands, plush lips, and gentle eyes. Yoongi’s ass might even be a tad bit fatter than his, too, but Jungkook isn’t looking at another dude’s ass. 
“You’re cute,” Yoongi murmurs. 
“Th-Thank you,” you say with a small sigh. 
“Wanna give me a kiss, love?” 
When your lips connect, Jungkook turns away. The soft moan that falls from your mouth shoots like electricity straight to his cock, but Jungkook struggles to lift his eyes. He has no desire to watch his friend shove his tongue down your throat. 
But isn’t that the point? Perhaps Jungkook has forgotten what he’d wanted to gain from this. 
“Is our Jungkookie feeling left out?” 
Yoongi’s light teasing brings Jungkook out of his head. He finally looks up to see you’re now straddling Yoongi’s lap, arms loosely wrapped around his neck. You turn back to look at Jungkook, and he sees something akin to guilt flash in your eyes. It disappears once Yoongi runs his tongue up your throat, the sensation making your head fall back and lips part. 
Jungkook squeezes his fists against his thighs. His eyes lock with Yoongi’s, and the other man gives him a wink as he suckles the skin below your jaw. 
I asked for this. I asked for this. I asked for this. 
Jungkook is beginning to feel lightheaded. He shifts in his seat and realizes he isn’t breathing. His heart pounds so violently in his chest that he feels he might go into cardiac arrest. 
“Y/N, get the fuck over here,” Jungkook growls. His voice is deep and tight and cuts through the quiet living room as sharp as ice. 
You shoot up, re-adjusting your skirt from it being shoved around your waist. Yoongi watches with cat-like eyes as you wobble over to stand between Jungkook’s legs. He doesn’t utter a word, only cocks his head to the side and keeps his eyes on Jungkook. 
Jungkook makes a point of ignoring Yoongi. He turns his attention to you, grabbing your wrists and pulling you forward so you meet him at eye level. 
“Is he turning you on?” You tremble, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze. He pulls on your wrists again, tightening his grip on you. “Use your words.” 
When you still don’t speak, Jungkook reaches under your skirt to rip your thong down your legs. He slides his fingers through your pussy, toying at your entrance. When he pulls away, a sticky string of your arousal attaches to his fingers before eventually breaking off. 
“Look how wet you are for him. You fucking slut.” 
Jungkook hears Yoongi make a surprised noise from the couch, but he doesn’t bother looking. He keeps his attention on you because you’re all he ever wants to focus on. 
“Yes,” you finally admit. You stare into Jungkook’s eyes with swollen lips bitten between your teeth. 
“You want him to fuck you?” Jungkook squints at you, already knowing the answer. But he wants to hear you say it. He needs the confirmation that you want someone other than him, that someone else can pleasure you, potentially even better than he can. He needs you to tell him that you don’t want him. 
Jungkook pulls down your skirt to let it pool around your ankles with your underwear. You let out a small whimper, but he knows you know better than to stay silent. 
“Y-Yes.” 
“Yes, what?” Jungkook lets go of your wrists to rip open the lace corset you’re wearing. Your tits spill out, and he fights the urge to bring his mouth to them. 
“Yes, I want him to fuck me.” 
Jungkook twirls you around so you have your back to him. He pulls you into his lap, positioning his knees between your legs so he can force you to spread open, on display for Yoongi. 
“Do you want to fuck her?” Jungkook’s jaw muscles twitch beneath his skin as he bites into his molars. His hands snake forward to caress the inside of your thighs, daring to swipe his fingers through your dripping folds. “She’s a needy little slut.” He spits the words more for you than for Yoongi. 
Yoongi is hard. His already skin-tight jeans stretch across his groin so tightly that Jungkook is sure even pinching the fabric between two fingers would be impossible. He can relate to his friend: Jungkook’s pants are too tight around his hips from his erection, but he ignores his arousal. 
“Fuck, yeah.” Yoongi’s voice comes out hoarse and low, and Jungkook feels you clench your thighs when he speaks.
“Great.” Jungkook grits his teeth. He pushes you off of him and rises to his feet. 
You stand between Jungkook and Yoongi, eyeing both men with a hint of… curiosity, perhaps, in your expression. If you’re confused by what’s going on, then you aren’t the only one because Jungkook doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. He assumed you would put your clothes back on and go next door to Yoongi’s apartment. The two of you would fuck, and Jungkook would force himself to take a cold shower and think about how you were Yoongi’s now. 
But Yoongi doesn’t move, and neither do you. 
“Well?” Jungkook knows gritting his teeth is bad for him, but he can’t help but seethe with irritation – largely at himself, but you and Yoongi are perfect scapegoats even though Jungkook did this all on his own. 
“You don’t want us to stay here?” Yoongi’s eyes drop to the bulge in Jungkook’s pants. He licks his lips and returns to Jungkook’s face. 
It hadn’t ever crossed Jungkook’s mind that staying was an option. 
When Jungkook doesn’t respond, Yoongi turns to you. He gives you a gentle smile, softer and prettier than Jungkook has ever given you. “What do you want, love? Do you want JK to watch?” 
Drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, you grin as you bite your lip and nod. “Yeah, I do.” Your eyes drift from Yoongi’s to Jungkook’s, and your expression falls momentarily. “Unless you don’t want me, too, JK.” 
Jungkook shakes his head, speaking before he can stop himself. “I always want you.” 
It might feel like the wrong thing to say, but it makes you happy, and Jungkook is realizing too quickly that making you happy is what he wants the most out of everything else. 
So when he finds himself standing beside his bed, shirtless, watching Yoongi removing the last of his clothing, Jungkook wonders just how much this is going to fuck him up in the head. Because there’s no way he’s walking away from this the same as he was when he went into it. Even though he’s frustrated and high and ready to prove something to himself (what, he doesn’t know), Jungkook can’t shake the thought that maybe he’s going about all this wrong. 
“Oh fuck, Yoongi, oh my god,” you squeal, throwing your head back into the bed. Yoongi sucks on your clit, and how his jaw works against your lips tells Jungkook that he’s likely lapping at your clit with his tongue. 
“She tastes so fucking good,” Yoongi moans with glistening lips. 
Jungkook’s mouth starts to water. He knows. Fuck, he knows. You’re sweet and creamy and so fucking warm. 
“Why don’t you come over here?” Yoongi turns his head to the side to lock eyes with Jungkook as he slathers his tongue through your folds. He licks a long, slow stripe up your pussy, purposefully gathering your arousal on his tongue so strings of it attach to his lips when he pulls away – all the while keeping his eyes on Jungkook. “Taste her with me, Jungkookie.” 
Joining them hadn’t been the plan. Even watching hadn’t been the plan. Yet Jungkook finds himself maneuvering around Yoongi, so they both can settle between your thighs. 
Yoongi lowers his head to run his tongue around your entrance. The new position makes more room for Jungkook to lean forward. Keeping his eyes on you rather than Yoongi, Jungkook tentatively flicks his tongue against your clit. 
A moan rips from your throat as you feel the double stimulation of Jungkook licking and sucking your clit while Yoongi plunges his tongue inside you. You immediately buck your hips, but Yoongi holds them down firmly. It’s easier than he expected. A stupid little voice in his head comments that he and Yoongi work well together. 
“I’m gonna cum, oh my god.” Your moans sound strained and wet. 
With your legs spread between Jungkook and Yoongi’s shoulders, it’s impossible for you to close your legs. Jungkook’s eyes fly open when he feels Yoongi dig his fingers into his scalp. Holding a solid grip on Jungkook’s hair, Yoongi maneuvers his head for his tongue to hit your clit just right, sending you over the edge. You cum with a scream that’s muffled by Yoongi’s free hand pressing against your mouth. 
When Yoongi finally allows Jungkook to lift his head for air, he maintains his hold on his hair. Your arousal glistens on Jungkook’s lips in a thick, sticky layer. Before Jungkook can catch his breath, Yoongi pulls his head forward to crash his lips against Jungkook’s. 
Jungkook inhales sharply as Yoongi’s tongue glides along his lips, licking off your slippery arousal and leaving his spit behind. When Jungkook’s lips part slightly, Yoongi’s tongue finds its way in, licking at the inside of Jungkook’s mouth. Yoongi grabs Jungkook’s thigh for support as he leans in, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his briefs. It’s alarming, but it feels good. Surprisingly good, to let his friend suck his bottom lip into his mouth. 
“So pretty,” Yoongi hums, pulling Jungkook’s head back to let his eyes roam over the younger man’s features as his cheeks turn bright pink. “Pretty boy.” 
You whine from being neglected for too long, and Yoongi quickly lets go of Jungkook to cradle your face in his hands and kiss you instead. It’s gentle and soft, just like Yoongi had kissed Jungkook. 
“Would you like it, love?” Yoongi speaks softly to you, his long fingers tracing hypnotizing patterns into the soft skin of your thighs. “Want to watch me suck our Jungkookie off?” 
“Oh.” Jungkook feels like he got punched in the gut. 
You give him a sly smile as you nod your head. “I do. I really do.” 
Jungkook tightly fists the sheets with both hands as Yoongi leans down to kiss the head of his cock through his briefs, right where a large wet spot is forming. He flinches slightly, but the action has him bucking into Yoongi’s face rather than pulling away. 
Everything in him screams that this is not how the night was supposed to go, but he still lifts his hips as Yoongi drags his briefs over his ass and past his thighs. His heart nearly leaps out of his chest once his briefs are completely pulled off his legs, and Yoongi is reaching up to take Jungkook’s cock in his large fist. 
Yoongi keeps his eyes locked on Jungkook’s as he slowly sticks his tongue out and gives it a few light taps with Jungkook’s cock. The dark, heavy eyes Yoongi watches him with have Jungkook’s face heating up. 
“Not the cocky dom anymore, are you, Jungkookie?” Yoongi purs smugly. 
For a moment, Jungkook forgets that you are sitting beside him, waiting with your legs open for him to play with your pussy. All he can do is watch as Yoongi slips the head of his cock into his warm mouth and swirls his skillful tongue around the ridge of his head. Jungkook gasps when Yoongi gives him a hard suck and slips more of him into his mouth until the head of Jungkook’s cock is nudging the back of Yoongi’s throat. 
“Fuck,” Jungkook moans, one hand reaching down to grab a fistful of Yoongi’s thick hair and the other reaching over to slip two fingers inside you. When Yoongi swallows around his throbbing cock, more profanity spews from Jungkook’s open mouth. “Ohh, shit, oh shit.” 
Smug, Yoongi lifts off of Jungkook’s cock and turns toward you, pulling you into a kiss by the back of your head. With his grip still on you, Yoongi guides you toward Jungkook’s cock. 
“Your turn, love,” Yoongi murmurs roughly, and it takes all of Jungkook’s self-control not to bust a nut right there.
His cock is shiny from Yoongi’s spit. You wrap your lips around the tip, suckling it. Yoongi massages your tits as you bob your head, and Jungkook spreads his legs, his thighs pressing against your and Yoongi’s chests. 
“Shit, wait,” Jungkook huffs, trying to push the two of you away from him. “Gotta stop.”
He’s honestly a bit flustered by all the attention, which is a new feeling for him. Having never experienced a threesome before, Jungkook doesn’t quite know what to do with himself – especially with another man involved. Especially when that other man is his friend. 
“Let’s give our love some more attention, hm?” Yoongi reaches for you with a gentle touch. 
You lie flat on your back and lift your legs as Yoongi kneels between them. He squeezes the backs of your thighs to push your legs to your chest and hold them open. 
While Yoongi maneuvers you into a comfortable position, you tilt your head to look up at where Jungkook kneels beside you. His cock dangles near your face, and it embarrassingly kicks up when you give him a small smile. It used to piss him off and still does, but he’s become familiar with the ache in his chest when you give him that look. Adoration isn’t something he deserves, and he knows it. 
“Ready, love?” When Jungkook looks up, Yoongi is holding the base of his cock as he rubs the tip between your slick folds. You let out a breathy “Yeah” that Jungkook just barely registers. 
Something like jealousy, but not as envious and more aggressive, rumbles in Jungkook’s chest. You and Jungkook never wear protection because he knows he’s the only person fucking you, and Jungkook always wears protection with everyone else. There’s trust between you, which developed organically as you learned about each other over time. Even though this was all entirely his idea, the sudden realization that someone else is about to fuck you raw has Jungkook grinding his molars so terribly he might need to see a dentist.
He’s about to say something when Yoongi lets go of his cock for a moment, and Jungkook can better see that he’s wearing a thin, clear condom. 
Whatever the fuck was going rabid inside of Jungkook’s chest settles down at that realization, though his nerves are starting to get the better of him. That is, until your hand glides up the side of Jungkook’s thigh, bringing his attention back down to you. 
“Hi,” you whisper. 
The corners of Jungkook’s mouth twitch as he whispers a greeting back. It’s such a juvenile thing to say when he’s got his cock in your face and Yoongi’s rubbing his own in circles around your clit. But Jungkook doesn’t care. Internally, he chastises himself for growing soft. Not his dick! But his heart. He’s emotionally soft, and it’s everything he said he wouldn’t let happen. 
“Are you ready?” Your eyes are attentive and bright when you ask, and Jungkook feels himself falling deeper into whatever part of himself is reserved just for you. He’s not ready. But he has to be.
Yoongi can hear; he’s right there, but he politely waits for your small interaction to run its course before he says anything. 
“Ready?” He repeats himself, but it’s quiet and nowhere near impatient. 
“Mhm, please,” you beg, and it sounds so much different when you beg for Yoongi than when you beg for Jungkook. Yoongi coos and praises you and gives you rewards for begging. Jungkook realizes he uses your desire to punish you. 
Interestingly, you get off on both. 
You let out a breathy moan as Yoongi slides inside you, your mouth falling open and your eyes fluttering. But you keep them open, even as your eyelids grow heavy so that you can stare into Jungkook’s. 
“Fuck,” Jungkook hears Yoongi curse.
Your body jolts forward when Yoongi bottoms out and then pulls back to snap his hips against yours. Every thrust brings you closer to Jungkook. He watches you with a burning stomach as you hold out your tongue, pressing the tip to the underside of his cock to lap at the precum dribbling from his slit. 
“God, you’re so fucking,” Yoongi lets out a string of curses, but Jungkook has all his focus on the way your face contorts as Yoongi starts pounding into you. 
“Harder.” You moan the request to Yoongi – who obliges – but you stare into Jungkook’s eyes as you do it. 
Tilting your head further, you lap at the underside of Jungkook’s cock again. 
“Jungkookie.” The sound of Yoongi moaning his name makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. “She’s being such a, fuck, good girl for us. Give baby what she wants.” 
Yoongi’s cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink, and his dark hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. For a moment, Jungkook gets lost in examining Yoongi. Even though he’s intensely pounding into you, there isn’t anything aggressive about his technique. He caresses your legs, kisses your calves, and moans little praises. 
“Oh my god, Yoongi. Oh fuck, right, r-r-right there, please don’t stop.” You scramble to hold onto something, your nails eventually digging into Jungkook’s thigh. He hisses but doesn’t tell you to let go. 
“Shit.” 
It’s a delayed response, but Jungkook finally moves closer to your face. With one hand holding the base of his cock and the other cradling your chin, he guides his cock into your mouth. 
“That’s it,” Yoongi groans, one hand pressing against your abdomen. “Fuck her throat, Jungkook-ah.” 
It’s so dirty the way you moan against Jungkook’s cock as he fucks your mouth. He keeps your head angled in a way that doesn’t hurt you and does his best to time his thrusts with Yoongi’s. It takes a few attempts before the two men find a good rhythm, but once they do, Jungkook honestly isn’t sure how long he’ll be able to last.
It’s loud and sloppy, fucking your throat as you drool around his cock. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of your face. Tears slide down your temples, and your throat bulges with every thrust, but it’s the vibrations from your moans as Yoongi fucks into you that really shoot electricity up Jungkook’s cock. Everything is wet and warm, and even the sound of Yoongi’s moans gets to his head as he spirals. 
A hand presses against Jungkook’s chin, tilting his face up and away from looking down at you. His hips falter slightly, but he maintains a shallow, slow thrust that allows you to catch your breath. It’s Yoongi beckoning Jungkook. His fingers dig into Jungkook’s jaw as he leans forward, his hips pushing harder against yours to capture Jungkook’s lips in his. 
Jungkook feels you pull back slightly, and your tongue swirls around the head of his cock while your lips suckle him. At the same time, Yoongi slides his hand up to grab a fistful of Jungkook’s hair and tugs it. 
“Are you gonna cum, baby boy?” Yoongi whispers against Jungkook’s lips, and Jungkook chokes out a moan as bright lights explode in his vision. 
He cums into your mouth with a moan that’s swallowed up by Yoongi, who continues to fuck into you. He lets go of Jungkook’s hair and brings his fingers down to play with your clit, ensuring you reach your orgasm before he eventually does. Jungkook hardly notices any of it; he’s too exhausted to do anything but sit back on his heels and let his head hang forward as he waits for his breathing to regulate. 
Yoongi gets up and slips down the hall, discarding the used condom in the bathroom trash and bringing back a warm, damp washcloth. He’s careful as he massages the inside of your thighs, even more so when he carefully lifts Jungkook’s cock to clean him up, too.
Jungkook lets him, now sprawled on his back on the bed beside you, tells himself that this doesn’t have to mean anything even though his heart feels full and his body is buzzing with a warmth that feels like more than just an orgasm. 
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you say softly. Yoongi boops your nose with his index finger. 
“Don’t need to thank me, love. I had fun.” Yoongi eases onto the bed, lying on his side next to you. “I had fun with both of you.” 
Jungkook has two pairs of eyes on him, searching for something in the same way he’s searching your faces. 
“JK?” You reach up to run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair. 
Jungkook lets out a small hum, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling. “You’re not too bad, I guess,” he says with as nonchalant of a tone as he can. But his poker face turns into a grin when you slap his bare chest, and Yoongi chuckles from the other side of the bed. 
“You’re so full of yourself, Jeon Jungkook.” 
Jungkook still doesn’t know what to do with you, but now he’s got Yoongi, too. He’s realizing maybe it doesn’t have to be as hard as he’s making it out to be. 
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lovemyavatar · 1 year
Text
Songbird
Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
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based on this request
Warnings: angst, fluff
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A rough sigh falls from Neteyam’s lips, shoulders tense as he stomps through Home Tree.
His hands clench into fists at his sides, anger tightening his chest. He seeks you out before he even realizes what he’s doing, ears twitching as he listens for the soothing melody of your voice.
He finds you within minutes, sitting near the tree line by yourself. It’s how you prefer to be, isolated among the dense forest, humming quietly for only your ears to hear.
You are always making noise. Whether it’s the murmur of a song under your breath, or the soft rumble of a tune in your chest, there isn’t a time Neteyam can remember where you were silent. You always seem to be in your own world, big eyes faraway as you release the most beautiful sounds.
“Songbird.” The greeting comes out much harsher than he intended, but he’s still wound painfully tight from an argument with his father.
You jump, spine straightening at the unexpected voice. Your eyes widen as they flit over his tense frame, curious gaze finally catching his after an agonizing few seconds.
“Neteyam?” Your cheeks warm at the nickname he’d given you as children.
At first, you were a bit offended, being compared to a bird, but after much reassurance from him, you understood that it was just his adolescent brain’s way of saying he likes the way you sing.
He lets out a long breath, slowly folding into a seated position beside you. Without hesitation, you move the weaving supplies that previously covered your lap, setting them to the side. He doesn’t stop, fluidly laying his head down across your thighs.
It’s a practiced motion, a familiar position the two of you often find yourselves in. You know exactly what he needs, without him speaking a word. As he settles into your lap, shifting a bit to get comfortable, you begin humming his favorite melody.
His eyes flutter closed, shoulders instantly dropping in relief. Your voice washes over him, soothing his worries, his anger, within seconds. One of your hands moves to his hairline, fingertips drawing a gentle path down his temple.
You repeat the motion, soft touch trailing across his forehead, down his nose, over his cheeks. Even his lips, always pursed so tightly, relax and part beneath your warm caress.
This is how things are between you.
When Neteyam feels overwhelmed, burdened by the responsibility that’s been thrust upon him since birth, he runs to you. He can’t place when it first happened, when he first realized that you’re the key to keeping him calm. Keeping him sane.
But now that you’re his personal music box, he knows he can never go back. He’s reliant on it—on you. He needs the soothing sound of your voice to calm down after fights with his dad and Lo’ak, or hard missions. Hell, most of the time, he can’t even sleep without at least a quick song.
And you—his quiet, sweet girl—have never passed judgement. Never said a single word in opposition when he pulls you from duties, or friends, or even family. You simply send him a heart-stopping smile, let him drop into your waiting embrace, and sing.
That is, until one fateful day when he royally screwed things up.
He’d had what might possibly be the worst morning of his entire life. He woke to the sound of yelling, his father already grilling Lo’ak about his latest reckless behavior. He peeled himself from bed, suffering his dad’s leftover wrath as he demanded help with a raid.
It went terribly. His Ikran wasn’t listening, they barely made out with any supplies, and he nearly got himself killed. Of course, this led to more yelling, being grounded, and a light scolding from his grandmother as she patched him up.
By lunchtime he was so tightly wound, he knew the slightest push would make him explode any second. That’s when you showed up, singing your favorite song under your breath. Your face lit up when you saw him, despite the deep crease in his brow and downturn of his lips.
You plopped down beside him as he ate amongst the clan, humming quietly for the both of you. It was obvious he needed you, as he always did. You were happy to help, to aid him in any way that you could. Except, this time, he didn’t fall into you. He actually tensed further, broad shoulders bunching with irritation.
“Can you stop?” He barked harshly, catching you off guard.
You blinked up at him with big eyes, instantly falling silent. “What?”
He let out a rough sigh, narrowed eyes slicing to you. Anger tightened his chest, twisted his stomach with something ugly. He couldn’t help it, despite the tiny voice in the back of his head begging him to stop, to take a deep breath before his next words, he couldn’t fight the rising emotion.
“You’re always so—” He grunted with frustration, looking away. “Can I just get two seconds of quiet? For once?”
Your lips parted in shock, eyes rounding in his direction. He refused to look at you, jaw tensing as he picked at the food on his plate. You studied him for a long moment, heart clenching at his dismissal. Moisture blurred your vision, but you quickly blinked the tears away, refusing to cry in front of him.
“I’m sorry.” The whispered apology was all you could muster as you gathered your things and rushed away.
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One week.
It takes Neteyam seven days to figure out that something is wrong.
At first, he thinks he may be getting sick. He just doesn’t feel right. Something is off, and he can’t place it. He’s tense at all times, back muscles painfully tight. A constant frown mares his features, brow creased with irritation.
He isn’t sleeping well, either. He tosses and turns at night, mind racing to find the cause of his unease.
He tries to talk to you, to spend time with you, but you’re always busy. The second you see him, you’re tucking tail and practically running away. He’s heard your song a few times, when he searches for you in those moments of heightened emotion, but when your eyes catch his, you fall silent. If he happens to spot you within the clan, your soothing voice is nowhere to be found.
It’s eating him alive, the fact that you won’t let him hear you. It makes him feel on edge, wondering if he’s done something to upset you. Or worse, the voice of doubt whispers that you’ve gotten tired of him, that you’ve found the company of another more appealing.
Finally, he can no longer take it, and decides enough his enough. He’s losing his mind, completely unable to focus on even the most mundane of tasks. He needs you to calm him, whether you’re previously engaged or not.
He spots you around the raging fire one night, talking and laughing with your friends. His now constant frown deepens, arms crossing in frustration as he approaches the group.
“Song—ah, Y/N.” He scratches at the back of his neck, cheeks warming with embarrassment. “Can we talk?”
The smile drops from your face, making his stomach churn with unease. Your hips shift uncomfortably, hands clasping tightly in your lap. Your shoulders round, chin lifting as you try to muster the strength to avoid him yet again.
“I don’t think—”
Before you can even finish, he’s grabbed your bicep, firmly hoisting you to your feet.
“She’ll only be a minute.” He calls over his shoulder, the assurance met with a chorus of giggles as your friends watch him pull you away.
“Neteyam—” You try, but he simply ignores you.
Your legs stumble to keep up with his rushed pace. He doesn’t stop until he’s dragged you into the forest, brought you to a secluded section just outside Home Tree. He suddenly turns on his heel and drops your arm, causing you to take a step back in surprise.
“What is wrong?” He demands, voice rough.
Your breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours. You sputter for a few beats, mouth opening and closing as you search for the right words.
“I-I don’t…” Your heart thrums wildly between your ribs, having never expected him to confront you so directly.
“You haven’t been singing. Why aren’t you singing, songbird?” His tone softens, eyes rounding with concern.
He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you so that he can reach out, cradling your face in his palm. You blink up at him, chest heaving with pent up emotion. He’s so close. Too close to remain platonic, but neither of you move an inch.
You force down a thick swallow, throat hoarse. Moisture blurs your vision as you remember his words, remember the way he snapped at you. Though you know you have a nice singing voice, you’re aware that the constant noise can be irritating to some.
You’ve seen the sideways glances, heard the scoffs and sighs of annoyance when you’re around. But you can’t help it, music is always in your mind, swelling until you can’t contain it anymore.
The only reason you’ve embraced it, continued humming and singing despite the occasional comment from the clan, is Neteyam. The way he relies on you, uses you for comfort, it gives you meaning. Gives you purpose. Shows you that your voice can do good, that it isn’t just some annoying quirk.
But then…
“Oh, songbird.” He coos gently, thumb swiping away a falling tear. “Tell me, please.”
Your chin wobbles with the effort of keeping the words in, of sparing him the details he already knows. Realization suddenly dawns as his worried gaze flickers over your crestfallen expression.
His eyes widen, heart crashing into his stomach as his own stupid words replay in his mind.
“Is this about what I said?” The question rushes from his lips in a single panicked breath.
“No! No, of course not, I—”
Before you can finish the lame excuse, his arms are around you. He pulls you onto the ground with him, settling you into his lap. Heat prickles your skin at the intimate position. Though you've been close many times before, it's always him laying on top of you in some way. Now that you’re the one in his arms, nervousness grips your chest.
“Songbird...” His large hands engulf both sides of your face, guiding it up toward his. “I’m so sorry. I never should've said those things. I was upset with my father, and I never should've taken it out on you.”
Your eyes widen, unsure what to make of his sweet words. “It's okay, Neteyam, really—”
“No,” His head shakes rapidly. “No, you don't understand. I'm a mess without you. I can't sleep, can't focus. Can't even fly my damn Ikran right. I need to hear your voice. Sing to me, please?”
Breath lodges in your throat, brows lifting in surprise. You’ve never heard him so open, so vulnerable. It’s left you speechless, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears.
When you don’t respond, his hands wrap around your hips, gently pulling you off his lap. Your eyes pop wide, but you make no move to stop him as he guides you back until you’re propped against a nearby tree. His eyes flick to yours in question before he slides down, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle.
You stiffen, spine straightening as he presses his face into your stomach, laying his body beside you. One of his legs tangles with yours, parting your thighs so he can nestle himself between them.
“I just need a good nights sleep, please, songbird? Help me?” He murmurs lowly, the sound vibrating the soft skin of your stomach.
Your skin is on fire, blazing in every spot he touches. All you can do is stare down at him, mouth agape, but his eyes are already closed. Your heart melts, any lingering resentment crumbing at the sight of him so desperate on top of you.
You can’t stay mad at him, no matter how hard you try.
Slowly, quietly, you begin to hum a familiar tune. Instantly, Neteyam sighs, relief flooding his system. You’re a bit hesitant, after not singing for an entire week. Your voice is hoarse, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Your hands fall onto his head, fingers tangling in his braids. He moans lowly, a soft tremor rolling down his spine. Your face feels impossibly hotter at his little noise of satisfaction. You’ve never seen him like this, so pliant under your touch.
Within minutes, you’re singing his favorite song, beautiful words washing over him. His breathing slows, eyes growing heavy as he finally feels at peace for the first time in days. Before you know it, he’s fast asleep.
You can’t help but smile down at him, fingers dancing across his scalp soothingly. Now that he’s back in your arms, everything feels right once again.
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normansnt · 2 months
Text
The prince pt.4
For @skyxqueen8 (:
Sorry it might be a bit short sorry for that but I think its good lemme know how you like it also SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT IMMA TRY AND BE FASTER🫡
Warnings: reader gets beaten up, mentions of Alastor torturing
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"Alastor I'll be fine, I truly don't want to bother you I see you're busy."
You tried your best to convince Alastor to let you go out alone. Now, usually he would, of course he knew how powerful you were you are the prince of hell after all, the fact that you don't like to use your powers doesn't hinder you much you use them when you're in danger.
But there have been headlines about you two dating. Vox's doing no doubt, and with the amount of people that Alastor managed to piss off during his years in hell it's really not safe for you out there.
"My dear, how could I ever be busy for you?" He asked baffled as he took a hold of your hand to stop you from leaving.
You turned around and gave him a quick kiss on his lips.
"My love, I will be just fine I can handle myself. I know the news has been full with us dating but to be fair that puts you in more danger than me, who wouldn't want to hold the kings son's lover for ransom?"
You argued back.
And you had a point, Alastor thought.
"Very well then, dear, however do not forget your radio remember you just turn it on and I shall be there as quick as possible."
You kissed him again and then smiled.
"Yes, I know"
He got you a pocket radio when he first saw the news. So whenever you need him you can just turn it to the channel you knew is his and hell be there in a second (idk lets just pretend).
You really weren't going out for anything special, you just wanted to get coffee with your dad like you do every week.
But the people who Alastor has pissed off didn't care much about where you were going they just wanted to make the fucker pay for what he has done. These were the sharks that Mimzy screwed over and Alastor had to clean her mess up. However during that clean up he kinda ate the boss's son and the boss was not please.
You could take on some annoying sharks really, but they attacked sudden. From the dark. While you were listening to music. So there really wasn't much you could do.
They showed you into an alley and started to beat you up with all sorts of junk they could find. You tried to reach the radio but when they showed you to the ground it broke.
This was when you decided to not play the part of helpless little prince waiting for his knight and used your powers to at least scare them away from you, you didn't have strength left to do anything else.
When you stood up, painfully, you reached for the pocket radio Alastor gave you, at least, for the parts of it.
"Fucking assholes" you liked that radio, you listened to Alastors podcast on it.
You knew you couldn't go see your dad in the state you were in you'd just worry him so you headed back home.
It was a hard journey with all the pain you were in but you managed.
You knew Alastor had things to do so you hoped he wouldn't be home. You didn't want to worry him.
"And who, pray tell, hurt my gorgeous little deer in such ways?" You heard the voice of your boyfriend from behind you as you entered your shared quarters.
"AHH, Fuck, Alastor I-I thought you wouldn't be-"
"Answer the question, please"
His voice was different. And as he exited from the shadows you saw that his voice was not the only thing different.
He wasn't smiling. He had a collected expression on his face, a terrifying calmness. You knew it wasn't directed at you.
He walked over to you and put his hand on your bloody cheek. He stroked your cheek with his thumb while you nestled into the warmness of his palm.
"You know those, sharks, that came here after Mimzy?" You asked him. His thumb stopped.
"Mimzy?" His voice was overly static barely audible.
"No, its not her-"
"I will be back soon" he said still overly static. And with that he left, not without leaving his shadow with you to patch you up.
"Shit" you mumbled. You wondered if you should have said anything.
Alastor's shadow made you sit down, and started tending to your wounds.
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You woke up at 3 am to the ruckus of Alastor coming into you guys's room.
"Alastor" you whispered.
He was bloody all over as he halted on his way to the bathroom.
"Why are you up, darling?" He asked.
You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
"What happened."
"Ah-ah-ah dear, I asked the question first." He tried to make the situation lighter.
"Its hard to sleep when your boyfriend is out hell knows where or doing what." You answered with just a hint of anger in your voice.
You took a breath and sighed.
"Your turn"
"Well...dear I don't think you wish to hear the details I know you are not particularly fond of violence, lets just say, I have plenty of new voices for my broadcast, these are going to be longer sessions however, these filths are getting the extra special treatment."
He answered slowly, trying not to anger you further.
You were trying to keep up the strong facade but you just ended your falling into his arms mumbling how worried you were. He hugged you back tightly, holding you to his body.
"I'm sorry, my darling, no harm shall ever befall you under my eye again." He mumbled into your hair.
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In the following weeks all everyone could talk about was how the sessions on radio demons podcast have gotten hours long, just screams for hours, this has never happened someone must have really pissed him off. From then on, Alastor stayed true to his word, no one dared to lay a finger on you.
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