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#can they stop flirting for two seconds and let us breathe
plaguechyld · 17 hours
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Omggg finally a blog with dom reader instead of sub!! I'm so excited I don't know what to even request with all the thoughts in my head! I'm into power play, spanking, dumbification, praise kink and overstimulation. I can't think of a storyline but you can choose one of any of those kny characters (muzan, kokushibo, giyuu, yoriichi or kagaya ) thanks!
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i’m glad you’re excited!! All of these are right up my alley too lol
first giyuu work of the blog?? Lets goooo (reader is uppermoon two along with douma)
cw: sub!giyuu, dom!gn!reader, demon!reader, uppermoon!reader, praise, spanking, dumbification, overstim, manhandling, crying, reader is said to have an angelic appearance, you/your used for reader, plot, fighting is flirting, reader has strap/cock (referred to has cock but can be interpreted at strap), demons can purr
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This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen, Giyuu was supposed to be in for a suicide mission, fighting uppermoon two alone.
The demon slayer had been confronted by the demon, you, in the dead of night when he was all alone on a patrol of the outskirts of a town in the wild lands of Japan’s countryside.
The first thing he noticed about you, embarrassingly enough, was how stunning your appearance is. Still, that didn’t stop him from drawing his katana from its sheath and baring it at you.
Giyuu swallowed when he saw your eyes, how could he not? They were beautiful after all, though they held the demonic inscription of uppermoon two.
The battle would be bloody, he knew. Your strength outweighed his by an obscene amount, your flesh could mend itself back together within mere seconds and your stamina was nearly unlimited, something he would soon come to see in a different light.
A soft smile played on your mouth, lips tugged up in a gentle manner as the skin around your eyes crinkle slightly. Each blow the hashira dealt was easily sidestepped by you, making Giyuu somewhat enchanted by you despite himself.
Your movements were so graceful, making you look like a living angel as you danced through the entourage of blade slashes directed at you.
Your smile never fades as you gradually get closer and closer to Giyuu despite him thinking that he has quite a handle at keeping you at a fair distance. The elation surprised him and he found himself soon unable to keep you more than a few feet away from him.
Sweat started beading on his forehead as he tried harder, channeling every skill he knew of from both his breathing style and swordsmanship in general. But despite the worry he was feeling at your nearing presence, you didn’t intend him any harm, you just had to exhaust the hashira to the point where he couldn’t fight back any longer.
Truth be told you found him absolutely beautiful, those deep sapphire eyes and dark black hair framing his pale face. Those fluid water-like movements, a signature of water breathing users, just looked so much better when it was Giyuu moving in that way.
In your century of life you have come across many different demons, demon slayers and normal mortals.. Even playing around with a handful that you found physically attractive, though none ever tugged at any heartstrings of yours, nor achieved a second glance.
This human was different, he was undeniably handsome but also his quiet nature intrigued you.
Mortals and even demons varied in personality, of course. But when they were in the presence of you they either become obnoxiously loud, crying and screaming and whatnot. Either that or they would cower in fear, not even daring to speak a word to you, causing you to quickly become bored with their existence.
But Giyuu was different, he was quiet, not screaming at you for your existence but at the same time his silence was not driven by fear. No, it was driven by the pure focus driving him forward.
Undoubtedly Giyuu harbored some hate towards you merely for the fact you were a demon. It didn’t bother you, however. He was respectful in his fight, never once did an insult slip past his plush lips which you found to be quite a pleasing change of pace.
And so you let him fight, let him display his years of training in such a gorgeous way.
Giyuu wasn’t completely unaware of your silent musing, he noticed the way you gazed at him with dreamy eyes. He saw the way you allowed his every attack to finish, even if it never hit you.
Those small things go unnoticed by many, so many that it has annoyed you for multiple decades. But you knew that Giyuu saw them and that only fueled your interest in him.
The fight was quiet, only the soft rustling of fabric, impact against grass and sword slashes swinging through the air.
But at the same time it spoke louder than any word could. The soft dance you two were in together grew closer and closer like it was nearing its grand finish, however that end would not be in death nor would it come that night.
The both of you seemed to look past the slashing of Giyuu’s sword, focusing on the small gestures of movement that brought a soft hue of pink to the hashira’s ears.
Your hand would graze his blade for a moment before he danced away from you again. He wasn’t that easy to woo, you found, which made you try even more. But at the same time Giyuu never rejected you, no. He was just putting on a show, a beautiful one at that.
The two of you had lived a life of darkness and bloodshed so a meeting such as this was only appropriate, no? To many others it would appear that the hashira’s fate was sealed and in a way it was, though there was no promise of death when he was with you.
It was important for the first promise between them to remain silent, not spoken aloud. The words in early days of meeting are unimportant in such a world, the quiet bond that was being built was much more precious, like a small defenseless thing that you wanted to shelter. It was valuable to you, you realized.
In some ways Giyuu felt the same. He just couldn’t help it, he was lonely. He had been lonely since childhood so the promise from such a seemingly… angelic demon seemed tempting to him. That temptation was already drawing him in, he had fallen to it, how could he not? You were so pleasing to be in the presence of. Despite the clear warning of the kanji inscribed in your beautiful e/c eyes the hashira found himself unable to pull away.
You welcomed him, you welcomed him to you, ignoring the biological hatred between the two of you because why would that matter? You had all eternity to have whatever you desired, why would principles make it any different?
The need, no matter how faint, was all too visible to you. Giyuu didn’t hide it from you, never averting his gaze from your own as if he wanted to drive your primal hunger for him. He didn’t fear your fangs nor your sharp nails that could dig into his flesh if he were to make a single misstep.
As his stamina ran out his muscles began to ache, his movements were growing more sluggish from their dance dragging on too long for his human body to handle.
This notion didn’t slip past your notice, after all the two of you were already so in tune with each other despite never speaking a word.
You let him drop right into your arms from fatigue and somehow Giyuu didn’t find himself afraid of what was to come.
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Slept left Giyuu after some hours of sleeping. He found himself waking up in a lavish western style bed. The room was comfortable, having a nice scent of something like vanilla and cinnamon.
The hashira found that couldn’t bring himself to sit up out of the bed, feeling too content to even consider it much.
Your presence was easy to sense within the home due to the fact you didn’t bother to mask it from the demon slayer. The trust between the two of you was oddly strong despite the strange nature of its founding.
It didn’t alarm Giyuu when you entered what he could only assume to be a guest bedroom. In your hands was a bowl of pork cutlet, well seasoned with some vegetables on the side. The exhausted demon slayer took the bowl of food with a thankful nod.
As he ate he was able to hear your voice for the first time as you asked him a simple question.
“Your name?” ah, of course your voice would be as attractive as your appearance. The mere sound of it had turned the tips of Giyuu’s ears pink once more as he replied in a soft voice.
“Tomioka Giyuu.” It was a short response but he was happy to see that you didn’t mind his lack of verbalization. You gave him your name in return and he nodded, finishing up his meal with eagerness.
You chuckle softly as you take his empty bowl away and at the same time set down a glass of water. Giyuu smiled softly to himself, hiding it behind the rim of the cup as he took a grateful drink.
This was some of the most gentle treatment he had received after years of tough training, bloodshed and ostracization from his fellow slayers. So he couldn’t help but feel at ease around you, despite your status as an uppermoon demon.
You couldn’t help but feel similarly with his own status as a high ranking demon slayer, a hashira. The two of you didn’t feel like you were in danger when you were around each other which was out of the ordinary but at the same time pleasing.
It was quite comforting to finally be able to form a meaningful connection with someone after all these years.
The wounds he had allowed himself to sustain during a recent mission were now rebandaged, Giyuu noticed. You had spent the time wrapping his arm and waist in fresh white bandages, making the hashira feel a warmth growing in his chest.
Those seemingly small things were quite a gentle and thoughtful thing for a demon to even consider doing, he thought. So the fact that you did it made it all the more special to him.
You had left Giyuu to his thoughts for a little while as you cleaned his dish before putting it away.
You returned to his side not long after and this time the two of you didn’t stay separated for long. Soon you were seated on the comfortable duvet cover of the bed Giyuu had been resting in, looking over at him.
A slight shift in his posture edged his hand just a little closer to your body, a silent invitation for you to take hold of it.
And that you did, your cooler hand slipped into his rather warm and calloused one, gently running your thumb over the top of it as Giyuu allowed his deep blue eyes to flutter shut. Soft touches were so rare in Giyuu’s profession and he was really feeling that fact now.
Some might consider him touch starved, which he couldn’t disagree with. So when you gave him that gentle touch Giyuu could find himself craving more and more. He didn’t care about being greedy and honestly, neither did you.
So a simple hand touch soon turned into you rubbing his arm then to the two of you in a joined embrace on that soft bed. It was painfully comfortable, lying there with Giyuu. So the two of you remained wrapped in each other’s arms for a while longer.
Your hands eventually found his dark black hair, undoing the ponytail it was currently in, letting it hang loose. Giyuu hummed in question only to be met by you slipping down into a lying position on the bed and opening your arms for him.
Who was he to refuse the demon that took him in? So of course he allowed his body to sink against your’s, letting out a soft breath of content when you begin rubbing slow circles on his back. It didn’t bother him that he was without a shirt at that moment, not at all.
All that mattered was being snuggled against you, being pressed so comfortingly against your demonic body. Giyuu loved that you welcomed him into your arms, that you rubbed his back and tended to his wounds. That you cared to make him feel this way.
And maybe.. Perhaps you would also care enough to make him feel better in another way. That thought seeped into his mind with no warning nor invitation but once it was in it made itself a home. Giyuu couldn’t get the thought of you doing such a sinful and loving thing.
Your eyes were busy gazing at his face, admiring his beautiful features. Once he looks up at you he instantly notices how you’re watching him with that sweet look on your face. Instantly he felt blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. You giggle softly at his reaction and cup his cheeks in your hands, gently squeezing them.
“May I?” you inquire with a quiet breath before smiling when Giyuu nods his head. Your lips meet his own soft ones in a tender kiss. 
It’s calm at first until Giyuu leans into it more, urging you to take that next step. Of course, who were you to deny him? So your tongue meets his own, exploring his mouth for the first time that night.
Giyuu was so needy yet so inexperienced, he didn’t know where to place his hands and was messily copying the motions of your tongue. 
So you take the lead, your hands holding his waist possessively, rubbing all over his skin and bandages with a firm touch.
He tasted so sweet and his little muffled whines were so adorable to listen to. It was so hard to take this slow but you knew that he needed it that way, despite his cold facade he was quite a sensitive thing.
His body remained on top of yours but in no way was the hashira in control, he had relinquished that the moment he fell into your arms. 
You eventually sat up with Giyuu in your lap, clinging to you like you’d vanish if he were to let go.
Giyuu felt his air supply running low so reluctantly he parted from your lips, gasping for breath soon after. Your smile never faded and your hands never left his body, they rubbed his waist slowly before eventually grasping it in full.
Your grip wasn’t particularly firm nor possessive at the moment and even so Giyuu could feel warmth pooling in his tummy from the mere touch. It wasn’t long before you sunk your lips back against his, pulling him into another searing kiss.
It was just so perfect that the hashira couldn’t resist attempting to clumsily roll his hips, not knowing what to do but feeling a tightness growing in his pants. After your lips separate for a second time you don’t waste a moment in placing hands on Giyuu’s hips to guide him properly.
A soft whimper escaped his lips, it was breathy and pure, so painfully pure to you. You had to have more, Giyuu was just so stunning when he was like this, after all. Your hands picked up the pace, making the slayer gasp in moderate surprise before leaning his head into the crook of your neck.
You didn’t mind because in that position you could hear each and every sound that Giyuu let out. Every breathy gasp and quiet whimper were easily picked up by you, driving you forward.
Giyuu bit down on his bottom lip out of pure instinct. He was practically in heaven, or so he thought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself- or you, from continuing the passion that was slowly unfolding in this quaint bedroom; hidden away from the rest of Japan.
“Please, more.” he whispers to you in an almost bashful tone. You knew exactly what he desired and you weren’t about to deny your beautiful human anything, at least not yet. So you obey, unbuckling his belt and “accidentally” brushing your hand against the prominent bulge in his dark black pants.
Each touch of that nature had the water hashira tensing and sucking in a breath of surprise and need. You just had this air about you; it was driving him insane. If you could just do it, touch him there; where he needs it-
Giyuu squeaks at the soft smack that was laid against his now bare thigh. Your hand was quick to rub the soft skin there, of course; but it served as a reminder to be good, to not go off on his own. He needs to listen to you, of course he does; he has no idea what to do.
“Shh, just follow my lead. Listen, baby.” you mutter in reply to his soft pleading sounds. Giyuu swallows before nodding his head, he knows that he has to be good for you to get what he wants, somehow.
Ah, but it was so hard! He was sitting in your lap in only his fundoshi, rolling his hips at a pace you control and to top it off you were still fully clothed. Giyuu merely buried his face even more so against your neck, choosing to stay quiet.
But that just wouldn’t do, would it? No; he needs to voice what he wants with you. You shift him in your lap, placing your thigh between his own so that he can get more friction against his bulge as you whisper teasingly in his ear.
“You want something, what is it?” he tenses slightly as his cheeks flush more. He should’ve known that you would figure it out; after all he wasn’t good at hiding anything from you, clearly. Swallowing his shyness after a moment he replies,
“You still.. Have all your clothing on…” so that was what he was thinking about? How sweet. You chuckle in light amusement before giving him one guided hip roll against your thigh.
“Then take it off.” you reply without missing a beat, making the hashira pause and look up at you with slightly glazed over blue eyes and a confused expression on his face. However that confusion soon turns into blush as he looks down- avoiding your gaze as he nods his head.
With trembling hands he pulls both your kimono and under-kimono open, revealing your chest to his flustered but oh so hungry gaze. You had removed your haori long before settling down in bed with the hashira so now all that remained was your kimono, obi and hakama pants.
Next Giyuu unties your obi with unsure hands. You take the fabric from him and look into his eyes, clearly uninterested in what becomes of it because of the lust that was starting to get to you.
The hashira swallows before continuing to help you undress and slowly, piece by piece, your stunning body is revealed.
But he can’t have all of the fun, can he? So you toy with the edge of his fundoshi for a little while, making Giyuu blush even further before eventually pulling it off. The hashira instinctually covers his erection with his hands, embarrassment flooding through his face.
You smirk softly and take his hands in yours, bringing them away from covering anything. You lay soft kisses on his knuckles as well, smiling at the way he was blushing because of it.
A soft whisper, or rather plea of your name here and there, had your patience nearly snapping. But you had to remind yourself that your baby didn’t know any better, not yet. Giyuu was just calling out for you, wanting you closer, wanting more of your touch; wanting more of you.
“Press your back to my chest.” you instruct in a calm voice, Why were you so calm and collected? Giyuu was blushing so much that he thought his skin was on fire at this point. You really were going to ruin him; though he obeys nonetheless. With his back flush against your chest you wrap your arms loosely around his waist.
You slide one hand to his erect cock while the other trails further up, playing with one of his soft pink nipples.
A light pinch with the first stroke of his cock has Giyuu’s hands flying up to cover his mouth. But even then he isn’t able to hide his squeal from you. You rub your hand up and down the length of his dick, occasionally circling his tip with the pad of your thumb.
“None of that now, darlin’. I want to hear every sound you make.” you whisper, your voice almost a soft hiss. You had to resist being just a bit harsher in your words with him because you knew Giyuu wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
Besides, you had other things planned for tonight…
Giyuu nods meekly as he lowers his hands, instead balling them up into fists as your hand picks up its pace. Another moan is pulled out of the hashira as you give his nipple a sharp tug.
Ah, his bare shoulder is just too tempting for you to not bite… So you lean in and sink your teeth, albeit quite gently for a demon, into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from him.
“HnGAH?!~” another bite, another squeal or cry. It was an addicting cycle but you eventually began licking over the marks you had already left, not wanting to be too rough quite yet. Your hand also never stopped, driving Giyuu closer and closer to orgasming.
Your fingers leave his chest to press against his lips, coaxing him to suck on them and coat them with his saliva. For what? He doesn’t know yet; though he will soon. He arches his back, hipping bucking into your hand as he feels the coil about to snap.
“Close, close!~” is all of the muffled warning you get before the hashira comes, pearly white cum staining your hand. You hum, bringing it to your lips to taste much to Giyuu’s embarrassment.
“Mmpfh!” he protests, wordlessly, due to the fingers currently playing with his tongue. You merely hum in response, finding the taste of your darling to be quite pleasant. Looking down into his flustered eyes makes you chuckle softly before giving him a kiss on the head in response.
“Sorry, hun. Couldn’t resist tasting you.” you chuckle quietly before pulling the two fingers you had in the hashira’s mouth out. They were thoroughly coated in saliva now and perfect for what you intended to use them for.
You let Giyuu get another whine out before flipping him to lay with his chest flush against yours once again.
Giyuu can’t help but feel quite comfortable in this position, being able to hold onto you- practically hug you all while feeling your bare skin against his was something he was never going to get tired of.
Your dry hand slowly finds its place on Giyuu’s perky ass, giving it a few rubs before lightly pressing your two wet fingers against his hole.
He sucks in a nervous breath, never having been penetrated before; only jacking off when he was alone at times. But you’re there to soothe his worries, of course you are. You’ve been so sweet to him this entire time.
“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll go slow, okay?” you murmur in a soft voice before laying another gentle kiss on the hashira’s forehead. Giyuu nods his head as he looks up at you with wide trusting eyes, squeezing them shut when you push your finger in, burying the first knuckle in his warmth. He was grateful you were adding them one at a time as he wasn’t sure if he could take them in from the beginning at once.
“Ngh.. ahn~” his moans are like little mumbles as he smushes his face into your chest, hands holding onto your back as he pushes back on your finger slightly.
Soon enough another knuckle is in him, then another until your middle finger is completely inside.
Giyuu shifts his hips slightly, trying to get used to the sensation of having something inside him like this.
“I’m going to add another finger, alright?” you warn quietly, only acting when Giyuu gives a little nod in response. You slowly ease your middle finger out of him before readjusting so that both your middle and ring fingers slip into the first knuckle. Giyuu lets out a soft hum of pleasure, shifting his hips to let you know that he wants you to continue.
And you do, you ease those two fingers until they’re fully inside of him and at that point the hashira is moaning softly into your chest. You kiss the top of his head as you begin moving them in and out at a nice and slow pace, allowing him to get used to the sensations he’s receiving.
Your fingers work diligently, pressing deep within him every time you move them back in. Occasionally you spread them apart to loosen his muscles, to which he lets out a moan or whine, depending on the distance between your fingers.
Soon enough the tips of your fingers pad against a soft little bump that causes Giyuu to squeal and arch his back without warning. His eyes fly open for a moment before his body shudders and once more clings onto your own.
“Is that where it feels the best?” you ask him, not expecting to receive an answer as your fingers prod away at that sensitive spot. Giyuu can’t answer, his voice too busy being used for moans and whines from the stimulation he was receiving at your hand; or rather, fingers.
Though, to your surprise Giyuu manages a slight nod in response to your question. How sweet… you just had to tease him a little bit, of course. So you press nice and firmly against that spot, not taking your fingers off  like before.
“NYAGH!~ Whu-wai-” his moans are like a sweet melody to your ears, he’s begging, pleading with you. It’s too much, he really isn’t used to these types of touches.
So when you finally return to your normal pace he slumps down against your chest again, whining and whimpering to himself.
You eventually find that he’s been stretched enough, though you’re still thoughtful about how his body will react to the real thing. So you reach over to the nightstand and retrieve a bottle of oil.
You pour a decent amount onto his already twitching hole, noticing how he squirms slightly from the feeling. You kiss him on the forehead, whispering a soft reassurance before spreading the oil along his walls.
His hands still grab at your arms, your chest, your back; whatever he can get at he’s instantly clinging onto. He whines softly when you remove your fingers, having grown used to the sensations they provided.
“It’s okay, darling..” you whisper in his ear, your voice calm with barely concealed lustful hunger. A soft sigh makes its way from Giyuu’s lips, signaling the fact he was quite content in your arms.
However a soft gasp does slip past his lips as he feels your tip pressing teasingly against his slick and oiled rim, as if you did such a thing just to hear him moan more.
Your teasing movement was met with a tremor of Giyuu’s legs and his face being pressed against your neck. It was sweet that he was acting so shyly when only a few moments ago he had pleaded with you, whispering your name in that breathy voice of his.
But you could only tease Giyuu for so long, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take much of it without proper training.
So you gently grab ahold of his hips, squeezing them lightly as you guide him to slide down on your cock. A choked whine sounds from Giyuu’s lips as his hands squeeze you, holding on for dear life.
“Ah! Feels.. W-weird.. Mngh..” he slurs into your neck, hands still squeezing you as tightly as he could manage. You hum softly in response, eyes focusing on the hashira’s hips.
Giyuu shifts around in your lap, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. Soft whimpers leave his lips every time you readjust him slightly, getting him into place.
“Hngh.. move? P-please?” He asks, innocent eyes looking up into your own demonic inscribed one. How adorable. He was just too cute to say no to.
You hum and place a lingering kiss on Giyuu’s already sweaty forehead as you buck your hips up into him.
Soon enough you move your beauty onto the bed so that he can relax on his back, arms and legs wrapped around your body as you move your hips at a slow and smooth pace.
You thrust your hips forward, driving your cock into the hashira’s tight heat again and again so that you can soak up the sweet moans Giyuu lets out. They’re heavenly to listen to, sounding like a siren’s call.
“Good boy, you’re doing so good.” you whisper in his ear as your hips keep moving, continuing to thrust your cock deep into his hole.
Heat spreads over Giyuu’s cheeks as he clenches around your dick at the praise, making you unable to resist pressing a kiss to his soft lips again.
He bucks his hips up to meet your every thrust as you pick up the pace you were moving at, now bullying his prostate perfectly.
“Mnghh~ close…” he murmurs between moans that continue to grow in volume, signifying the truth behind his words.
“I know baby, I know.” you reply with a few more strong thrusts of your hips, driving Giyuu closer and closer to his peak.
With one more harder movement of your hips Giyuu let out a wail, cum spurting from the tip of his cock as his nails dug into your back.
You made the choice to not allow yourself to heal the marks that the demon slayer was leaving on your back, you wanted to be able to admire them in the morning after all.
However you don’t stop your hips there, no. Giyuu was just too cute and warm for you to be able to control yourself. The hashira let out a startled moan before sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his sounds.
He only let go to whine out, “t’much! ‘Soo m-muhhch!~” How sweet. It was adorable to hear him whine about everything being too intense for him to handle but at the same time thrusting his own hips up to meet your harsh pounding.
Tears cascade down the Hashira’s face, making him seem even more pathetically cute than before. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as you hit that sweet spot over and over again, causing his dick to harden once more.
He can feel himself growing closer despite having come not that long ago. You were just too good, too perfectly attuned to all of his needs.
A second orgasm rips through him, causing him to arch his back and let out a filthy moan that's soon silenced by your lips connecting with his. It's so much, it's too much!
Giyuu feels like he’s drowning in the best pleasure imaginable. Though he expects you to stop now, after all you’ve gotten him to cum twice tonight and that's quite a lot for him, at least.
But you don’t, you keep going and even pick up your pace slightly. It punches sweet little “Uh uh uh”’s out of the poor thing, making it clear to you that he’s too fucked out to whine about it.
Your hand comes down to hold onto his chin, making him look up at you with that oh so pretty fucked out expression of his.
“Hm, you can take another round, can’t you baby?” you ask, the question obviously rhetorical as both him and you know that his brain is too mushy to answer you.
Instead Giyuu gives a weak whine of protest before holding onto you tighter. Though, his body is a stark contrast of the complaint he had just let out; he’s wiggling his hips, urging you to continue moving your own.
So with a soft chuckle you continue, slamming your cock deep into him, ramming so far inside that Giyuu swears that he’s seeing stars.
“AHN!- mnHN~.. ‘Omgohhhdddd!-" The hashira’s voice is broken up by his heavenly moans, unable to stop himself as you continue giving all the pleasure that you could possibly give him.
Your stamina is downright insane, though what could Giyuu expect. After all, you are one of the higher ranking uppermoon demons.
Even then, you can feel your pace slipping as your thrusts grow sloppier- more intense in pace and less like the strong, deep and practiced ones you had done prior.
“‘M close, baby. Want me to fill you up some more, Giyuu? Hmm?” You murmur into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you breathe in Giyuu’s intoxicating scent.
Giyuu nods fervently in response as he screws his deep blue eyes shut. His cheeks are all rosy and stained with dried tear marks, making him all the more adorable.
He hiccups as you finally slow your pace, hips moving slower as you cradle his shaking body close to your own.
Oh? It appeared he had cum for a third time from that sloppy pace. What a sensitive thing he is.
You kiss Giyuu’s forehead, finding it drenched in sweat with his black bangs sticking to his. He looks up at you with a dazed look when you finally slow to a stop before closing his eyes again.
A smile finds its way onto your lips as you pull out of him, making him gasp, arching his back for one last time.
Giyuu whines softly, opening those tired eyes of his again as he searches for your touch.
“Mmngh.. Stay…” The hashira murmurs, calling out for you in that sweet and quiet voice of his.
How could you refuse? So of course you wrap yourself around his weakened body.
You use a soft cloth you dipped in the lukewarm water that had been sitting out in a glass to clean the cum from Giyuu’s tummy. 
Your touch is gentle as you clean him up as best you can for the moment, after all the poor thing was much too tired for a proper wash.
In return the hashira snuggles up to you, peppering shy kisses to your neck as a thank you for the night as he was much too tired to talk.
You release a quiet purr in return, it's a sweet and gentle sound which makes it soothing for Giyuu to listen to.
The hashira curls up properly after you set the cloth down, feeling quite content to be wrapped in your arms like this.
He falls asleep quite quickly, clearly your shared night of intimacy had gotten to him quite quickly.
You merely smile and lay another kiss on him, this time to the top of Giyuu’s head.
“How sweet…” You whisper to yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to prolong this… relationship.
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Here's another fic from my AO3! I'll also be posting non-GO writing soon! :)
This one is supposed to be silly and light hearted, if ever it comes off as insensitive, let me know. For the record, I hate the prison system, please know that 🤍
The silliness and playfulness is taken from my own, two and a half years long (so far), relationship. My partner got me into Good Omens, and I will always be grateful to him for that. He's also just the best tbh and I love him so much ❤️❤️❤️
CW for swearing, neck kissing (briefly) and brief NSFW implications (nothing happens nor is implied to happen, just some suggestive flirting).
Bon appetit! 🫶
Crowley and The Mysterious Case of The Disappearing Sunglasses
It was a sunny afternoon, and a certain demon and angel were peacefully gardening together. At least, until something rather weird happened. 
It had started out with a kiss. Aziraphale hadn't joined Crowley for while, instead opting to recline leisurely in a deckchair, sipping wine and reading. He would pause every now and then, to look up and inquire about Crowley's progress with the garden. That aside, they hadn't interacted until Aziraphale had brought his baking, alongside a glass of cooling lemonade, out to him on a tray. That's when Crowley had decided that perhaps, it was time for a well-earned rest. 
Instead of sitting on the chair next to Aziraphale's, he'd decided to sit on his lap. Not that Aziraphale was complaining. Not at all, unless kissing him had counted as complaining, anyway. The thing was, just before he'd kissed him, Aziraphale had removed Crowley's sunglasses, which he'd been wearing not to shield his emotions, but his eyes, from the glaring sun. This was not an uncommon occurrence; Aziraphale frequently removed Crowley's glasses before they kissed, if Crowley didn't do so himself. 
But this time, when they'd broken apart, the glasses had been nowhere in sight. The garden was officially a crime scene-the sunglasses had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
Aziraphale, former angel, was a key suspect in their sudden and mysterious disappearance. Given that he was of an unusual, unpredictable nature, Crowley had to resort to using a variety of investigation tactics. Tickles, first. This had only succeeded in getting them both breathless and slightly distracted. 
Time for a new tactic: holding his book hostage. 
"Crowley!" Aziraphale had whined. "Give it back, now!" 
Crowley wasn't about to crack under the pressure. "Nah," he'd responded, with a cheeky grin. "Not until you tell me where the hell my sunglasses are! These are my only pair nowadays!" 
Aziraphale had raised an eyebrow at him in response. "Can't you miracle up or buy a new pair?"
"Nuh. Not allowed that many miracles since having retired, and there are no shops around here selling sunglasses.
Aziraphale frowned. "It's a tad odd that they don't sell them around here." 
Crowley stared at him as though he lacked brain cells. Which perhaps, in his own way, he did. "We're in bloody England! What do you expect!? Give me my sunglasses back!"
"Give me my book back!" Aziraphale pouted. 
"Nuh-uh!"
"I swear, Crowley-!"
"You started this!"
Aziraphale took a deep breath. "You give me no other choice," he replied, his face stoic. A sudden rain cloud appeared over Crowley's head, soaking him in seconds. Crowley gasped. 
"You bastard!" he said, throwing the book onto the porch. "Come here, you little shit!"
"Absolutely not!"
That's how they ended up chasing each other around the garden.
Ten minutes later, and they had stopped. Right. Time for yet another interrogation tactic. "Angel," Crowley purred into Aziraphale's ear, "if you give me my sunglasses back, I'm sure we can find another way to...unwind." 
Aziraphale blushed. "I know you, you wily old serpent. You're trying to tempt me to get me to give them back," he said, pausing. "It might work."  
Finally! 
Crowley sat on his lap and started to kiss Aziraphale's neck. "My angel," he murmured. "Look at you, you're gorgeous. So pretty, so good." 
The perpetrator cracked. "Fine," he admitted. His breathing was heavy, yet he didn't even need to breathe. That's how his interrogator could tell he'd got him. "Check your plants." 
Crowley fell off Aziraphale's lap. "What?!" he exclaimed. 
"Check your plants," Aziraphale repeated, smiling now like the deviant, the criminal, that he was. 
"Angel!" Crowley shouted, with no real maliciousness in his voice.
Right there, on his prized sunflower, the tallest one, sat his sunglasses. They must have been miracled on while they were kissing. The worst part of all? He hadn't even noticed. The next investigation, he decided, was going to be a murder investigation.
Aziraphale bolted indoors, Crowley hot on his trail. Oh, he would pay for this...
"No kisses for the rest of the day? Crowley, that is so unfair!"
"That's your sentence. You must serve it."
After a bit of tempting on Aziraphale's part, he was bailed out of his cruel sentence in less than an hour, with a strict warning to not do that ever again. He didn't re-offend, so Crowley decided he was reformed. Good. Couldn't be dealing with all that.
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mrsmikaelsxn · 8 months
Text
Tired
masterlist
pairing: theodore nott x female reader
warning: somewhat angst to fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, best friends to lovers, protectiveness, c*rmac mcl*ggen
summary: you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back
a/n: hello lovely people! i am alive and well! i sincerely apologize for not writing in awhile, i just haven't had any motivation to write lmao (this isn't proof read because its really late and i'm tired, so i apologize for any mistakes) (i chose the song below because i've been singing it for weeks and it somewhat relates to theo in this)
song: i'm just ken - ryan gosling
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Theodore Nott was tired.
And in love.
With his best friend, nonetheless.
You may be wondering why he was tired. Well, he was tired of feeling upset whenever you called him your best friend. He was tired of hiding how he felt towards you since he was a thirteen-year-old. He was tired of the jealousy that took over him whenever someone flirted or went out with you.
Theodore was tired of many things.
At the moment, he was sat in the Great Hall as Draco complained about his classes. He wasn't listening, though, no he was staring at you as you happily talked with your friends in Hufflepuff.
Someone then sits in the empty spot next to him and pats his shoulder. He tenses slightly and Draco stops talking. They both turn and look at Cormac Mclaggen.
The two Slytherins practically have to hold in their vomit at the mere sight of the Gryffindor.
"Can I help you, Gryffindor?" Theo's eyes narrowed at the hand on his shoulder.
Cormac awkwardly removes his hand and sucks in a breath, a smirk making its way to his face. "You can't, but she can." He tilts his head and his eyes land on you.
Draco and Theo's eyes follow his line of vision and Theo clenches his jaw. "What do you want?"
"I want that friend of yours. And for you to set us up," he shrugs.
Draco glances back and forth between the two boys. He knows how protective Theo is of you, and that this isn't likely going to end well.
"Let me get this straight... you want me to set you up with y/n?" Theodore says with disdain.
"Exactly. Something about her just has me wishing to be in her bed, you know?"
Theo slams his hands on the table, causing some people nearby to look over. He glares at the boy and speaks lowly, "The fuck did you just say?"
"Don't tell me you aren't friends with her to get in her-"
Draco cuts him off before his could finish. "I suggest you don't finish that fucking sentence, Mclaggen."
"I'll take that as my sign to leave. Just let me know whenever you're done with her, I'll be waiting with open arms... and legs," he laughs as he walks out of the Hall.
"Fucking disgusting asshole," Theodore mumbles.
"I can hex him if you want," Draco says. "Maybe get Snape to take points from Gryffindor."
"Both sound good to me."
His eyes make their way back to you and he sees your eyes already on him. You smile brightly at him and he grins back. You turn around so he doesn't see your face warm.
One of your friends, Hannah Abbot, giggles and pokes your cheek. "Someone's blushing."
"Am not!"
"Yes you are. Don't lie," she leans in, "you have feelings for Nott."
"I don't know what you are talking about. We're just friends."
"Mhm." Hannah looks at you with an incredulous face, "I'm pretty sure that friends don't make heart eyes at one another."
You gasp, "Theo and I do not make heart eyes at each other."
Hannah whispers, "I know that you know that you like him. I hope that you believe me when I tell you that he looks at you like he's about to get down on one knee-"
You gently place your hand on her mouth and look at her with wide eyes. "That's enough." You remove your hand but chew on your lip for a second. "Does he look at me like that?"
"Yes! And for the record, I think your children-"
"Merlin! I can't do this today," you drop your head into your hands as Hannah rants about how beautiful your family would be.
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It's been two weeks since then and whenever you hung out with Theo, you tried to decipher if he was looking at you the way Hannah has claimed he was.
Theo, however, noticed how you seemed more bright than usual. What had happened that made you more smiley and happy? Did you find someone?
He runs his hands over his face and sighs.
"Theo? Are you alright?"
He sits straighter at the sound of your warm voice. "Yes, love. I was just lost in thought."
"Oh? And what thought has you frowning like a kicked puppy?"
You lean back against the tree behind you and put your legs out straight, crossing your ankles. You pat your lap and Theo places his head down. Your hands start to play with his hair, like muscle memory.
"Nothing your pretty head should worry about," he says quietly as he stares up at the stars. It was past curfew, and you weren't one to break any rules, but how could you say no to your favorite person? Especially when the note was attached to your favorite flower.
"Hm, well I don't like it when you frown. I much prefer to look at your gorgeous smile," you chew the inside of your cheek and start to braid some strands of his hair.
His cheeks turn a light pink and his eyes meet yours. "Gorgeous smile?" He feels a flicker of hope that there's a slight chance you reciprocate his feelings.
"Yeah," you mumble with a light laugh.
He smiles and before he could say anything else, something clicks above him.
You grin as you hold your polaroid camera above his head. "Gotcha."
He fake pouts and tickles your stomach. You burst out laughing and the camera falls to your side, "Theo! Stop, please!" You beg and squirm.
"Okay, since you asked nicely."
"You know, I think I can be tickled to death. I don't know about you, but personally I can't really breathe when I'm being tickled."
He lets out a breath, "I don't know if I can, I haven't been tickled before." He sits up a tiny bit and leans on his elbows.
You huff, "I suppose we'll just have to find out, won't we." You quickly move so that you're next to him and tickling his stomach. His head falls back as he laughs. You smile and he grabs your waist and rolls the two of you over so that he's now on top of you.
Theo gazes down at you. He sucked in a breath at your closeness and couldn't stop his eyes from dropping down to your smiling lips. 'So pretty,' he thinks to himself.
His arms are on both sides of your head and he leans down a bit so that if either of you were to move just an inch, your lips would touch.
"Theo," you whisper breathlessly.
"I really fucking want to kiss you right now," he says quietly.
You look at his lips, "So do it."
Without another word, he connects his lips to yours and both of your eyes flutter shut.
He feels a burst of butterflies fill his stomach. As childish as that may sound, he's had countless scenarios of kissing you. But never would he have expected it to be so perfect as it was.
Your lips were soft and warm. His were too. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth happily.
His tongue wanders your mouth and your hands go up and comb through his hair. He lets out a content sigh against your mouth and pulls away the tiniest bit. He gives a shorter and sweet kiss before his tongue is against yours again.
You taste of strawberries and cherries. That was because you ate the two fruits almost every night for dessert.
He tastes like slight cigarette smoke and vanilla, as odd as that may seem.
The two of you could drown in the taste of each other.
Theo pulls away places a gentle kiss on your forehead as he sits up and pulls you against his chest.
He rests his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck. "I love you," he whispers.
You furrow your eyebrows. You've said the three words to one another before, but you hoped he meant it another way. Which you were almost sure of after the kiss. "I love you more."
"No," he shakes his head against your neck. "I'm in love with you."
You feel your heart rate increase and the largest smile is now on your face. "You are?"
"Of course I am. I've been in love with you for years. You don't have to say-"
You turn and face him. "I'm," you kiss his cheek, "in," you kiss the other, "love," you kiss his forehead, "with," you kiss his nose, "you," you finally kiss his lips and Theo melts.
You pull back and look at his blushing face. "Oh!" You just remember your camera and reach over to grab it.
You pull the printed picture from the top and look at the developed photograph. "Look how beautiful you are," you turn the picture to him.
He takes it from your hands and brings it closer to his face. Even he could see the lovestruck look on his face as he admires you from your lap.
"Lets caption it," you say.
"I think you should write, 'first kiss and love confessions'," Theo tilts his head.
"That's perfect," you smile.
"Not as perfect as you, darling," he winks.
You playfully push his shoulder, "I never took you as a sappy one."
He dramatically places a hand over his heart, "Oh how you wound me."
"Will a kiss make you better?" you ask with a glint in your eyes.
"I believe it will, sweetheart."
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luveline · 6 months
Note
PLEASE IM BEGGING I WILL SELL MY FAMILY FIR THIS
More flirty bombshell reader but Spencer was just let out of prison and now instead of just getting all hot and bothered he flirts back 😼
Love you and your writing pooks 😏😚🫶🏾
love you! fem, 1.1k
This has been the longest eighty four days of your life. Not even three months apart and yet it's felt as long and arduous as three years, and so you do what you must on the day Spencer is released from Milburn; you take your time putting yourself back together, preening and polishing, as pretty as you've ever looked. 
Penelope looks good too, JJ as well. The girls are here to represent, and that's without mentioning Luke's general unbelievable physique. 
You're pissed at being left outside but you can manage. You can cope. You don't think Penelope, bless her huge heart, is going to fight you for Spencer's attention. Not for a good five seconds. What to say first? I miss you, I love you, I'm so fucking sorry I let this happen, that I couldn't do more. 
He appears behind a grate door, Luke at his side. Then the grate is opening, JJ with tears in her eyes behind him, and every idea of what to do goes out the window. 
Your breath catches before he's so much as touched you. 
"Hey," you say. It starts well, ends weak, tears in your eyes as you choke, "hey, handsome." 
"Hey," he says, hugging you with more care than you're expecting. "Oh my god, hey." He lets out a sigh of relief, his face dipping down to press against your shoulder. You feel the familiar curve of his nose and hold your breath to stop from crying.
You let him go a selfish ten seconds later, but Spencer keeps your hand as he hugs Penelope, one-armed. It's awful and selfish and you don't care, you go in for the second hug on tiptoes, arms behind his neck, your mouth pressed as high as you can reach on his face. A mess of lip gloss is left behind when they finally crowbar you off of him long enough to get in the car, and even then you're clinging to his hand, worried someone will take him again, that you won't be able to do a thing about it. 
You wrap your arms around his and hug him on the drive back. You can't stop looking up into his face. Spencer, unflinching, meets you there, his eyes a little glassy, his face sallow but getting better. 
"Missed me?" you ask quietly. You've only so much privacy. 
"So much." 
"Like a hole in the head?" 
Spencer leans down an inch. "No, like, I really missed you." 
"Of course you did, you–" Spencer leans down suddenly and disarms you, his breath warm against your cheek. 
"I what?" he asks, kissing your cheek. 
"You haven't been away from me that long in years," you breathe. 
"It took getting used to," he says agreeably, speaking low, his breath hotter still as he kisses upward. Two kisses, that's all they are, but when he sits straight again you're thrown. 
"But you got used to it?" 
"No," he says, smiling at you like you've made a funny joke rather than thinly veiled insecurity spoken in a desperate attempt to garner some reassurance. 
It was difficult coping with the hurt of his having left you in the dark. You knew he was doing something he shouldn't have been, but you never for a moment imagined this outcome. You worried (deep down, and not for his ears) that he'd met someone new, that he'd grown disinterested in your years of love and life. Of you. Especially as he's matured, which is to say he stopped looking like he was about to walk the stage at New York Fashion week and started dressing sharp as a tack. Your Spencer stayed yours, but he got older, and you did too —you look older. You're still yourself, high maintenance, prideful, sweet, but you're not the same. 
Between the distance that bloomed with his secrecy and his growing maturity, you were caught off guard. And then not long after he was arrested in Mexico and you couldn't get him out no matter what you did, or who you begged for help. 
Spencer brings his hand to your cheek, tilting your head one way slowly, and then the other. There's confidence in his touch that you've felt before, just never to this extent. 
What happened to you? you think. 
"I'm sorry," he says. 
"For what, sweetheart?" you ask, meaning it implicitly. He's your sweetheart. He's everything. You're too high on his return to want an apology. 
"For everything. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you." 
There's something you can work with. "Oh, you will?"
"I promise." 
Mindful of your friends in the front seats, you press your cheek into his hand, turning your head just enough to touch your lips to his palm. His eyes are dark brown where they meet yours, pupil and iris one and the same. "How?" you murmur. 
Spencer brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. Something in his eyes speaks even as he stays quiet, a light, an amusement, as if to say, I know exactly what you're doing, but it won't work. 
I'm not a saint, you say back with a sheepish smile. You close your eyes and let your head fall into his shoulder. He hugs you close despite the lack of room, his chin landing atop your head gently. "You'll have to try harder," he whispers. 
"Don't know what you mean." 
"Months of missing you and the first thing you do is try to torture me." 
"That's our thing." 
"No, our thing is me worshipping the ground you walk on," he says into your hair, hand squeezing as it roves up your arm, reassuring himself that you're there, that you're real. 
"Like I wouldn't do the same if you'd let me. I would've done anything." He probably can't hear you anymore, your voice a suggestion of sound. "I would've done anything if I thought it would…" get you back to me.
Spencer does you a favour of ignoring you. Later, you know he'll bring it up again. You'll have time, because he's going home. For now he does his best to hold you together in the company of others, always thinking about what you need. "You look so pretty today. Is that for me?" 
"I always look pretty." You haven't felt it lately.
"I know. Maybe it's because I didn't see you for so long… It's like seeing you again for the first time." 
Your chest aches in a strangely nice way. "And how are you coping, handsome?" 
He rests his cheek on your forehead. On paper, you're flirting. In actuality, you're being one hundred percent honest with each other. "I'm not. My blood pressure has gotta be 180 over 110 right now."
"I love it when you talk medical to me." 
"I love you." 
You nose at his suit sleeve ineffectually "I love you." 
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absdoll · 5 months
Text
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♡ inspired by this song ♡
simply can’t stop thinking about college!abby bouncing around a party, drunk off god knows how many vodka seltzers. she never lets loose like this, but it’s spring break, and she’s newly single, and she can’t help but notice how good you look dancing by yourself to the loud music.
as abby elbows her way through the crowd of sweaty bodies, she finds herself standing directly behind you. your hips swaying, your hands in your hair, head hung back. she slowly scans your body, up and down. stopping her stare at the way your tight black dress hugs your curves. “hey-“ she blurts, without even thinking.
of course you don’t hear her, you’re standing right next to the speaker, and you’re too drunk anyways to pay any mind to yet another person trying to hit on you. in between the current song ending and the next one in the queue, abby takes the split second to try and get your attention again.
“can i get you a drink?” she asks near your neck. you abruptly turn around. the warm feeling of a husky voice caressing your ear makes you jump a little. your eyes try to focus on the big build standing in front of you. long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes that you swear are trying to seduce you, black t-shirt hugging her bulging muscles, and a smirk to match that tone you heard just a minute ago.
you roll your eyes, playfully, “i don’t know, can you?” you yell over the rap song, you lift an eyebrow at her, a small smile hung on your lips. abby scoffs, using one hand to turn you around and guide your hips to grind against her front. you can’t help but bite your lip as her hands sit firmly at your sides, making you press your ass onto her. your height difference is perfect for you to tilt your neck to the side, easy access for abby’s hungry lips. the blonde leaves a small kiss on the open space between your ear and collarbone, sending goosebumps all over your body.
“you look good by the way, like this little dress you got on.” abby drunkenly flirts against the small of your neck. you grab her left hand and slowly guide it down to the hem of your dress, her hips buck into your ass as you slide her hand up to your clothed cunt. “ffuuuucckkkkkk” she breathes.
and suddenly she’s got you by the wrist, pulling you to the first bathroom she finds. slamming the door, not even bothering to lock it. tripping over your high heels as abby eagerly and aggressively hoists you up on the sink. she drops to her knees, kissing up your legs and grabbing your ankles to rest on her shoulders. it’s dark, the only light is the neon red “please don’t do coke in the bathroom” sign hung above the door.
as abby gets closer and closer to your heated center, she stops at your inner thigh and sucks a big purple bruise with her teeth. you moan at the pain mixed with pleasure, your panties getting wetter as she continues.
abby ignores your growing wet spot on your white lacy thong and makes her way to your breasts. ripping your dress straps down your shoulders, mouth moving to tickle your perky nipple with her tongue. your hand finds the top of her head, pulling and grabbing her hair, moaning as she relentlessly sucks your hardened pink bud.
abby pulls back, now standing between your legs. she begins to rub her strong hands up and down your trembling thighs. “all worked up, huh?“ she giggles, shaking her head before meeting your gaze again. the alcohol is catching up to her as she traces her index finger over your entrance. abby yet again grabs your wrist, placing your palm on her groin. “feel that?” she smirks. you wrap your fingers tightly around the thick bulge tucked in her cargo pants.
one hand undoing her zipper and the other pushing your thong to the side, revealing your sopping pussy. abby brings her fingers to her mouth and spits on them before sliding her thick digits into your tight hole. you clench immediately around her knuckles, abby lets out a chuckle, “if you can’t even handle two fingers, how can you take this baby?” she strokes her silicone cock a few times, slowly, still pumping her fingers inside of you, watching as drool starts to form on your soft lips.
“show me you’re ready for it.” she swipes her tongue up your neck, “show me you can take it.”
you spread your legs even wider, showing off your pretty pink hole. slick drowning abby’s big fingers as she finger fucks you until she can feel you tightening around her. “you want my dick now hmm? can’t take any more of me not being buried inside of you?” abby coos.
“shut up and fuck me already” you hiss back. abby’s eyes widen, “that’s a lot of attitude coming from someone so desperate. if i wasn’t so fucked up right now i’d put you in your place.” you let out a soft moan at her words. abby tilts her head at you, “oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
without another word, abby’s fingers are meeting the back of your throat while she’s bottoming out inside you. her creamy covered fingers toying with your tongue, causing you to almost gag, saliva pooling down on the bottom of your lip. her thrusts are deep and violent, she’s muttering drunken words with every pump of her strap that kisses your cervix. “good fucking girl uhgh yeah f-fuuck.”
“uuuh-ghhggh fee-s shgood!” abby laughs at your attempted pleads, you can barely speak with her middle and ring finger shoved in your mouth. her fingers are salty and thick, causing your eyes to water.
“doing so good baby, mmm, needed to fuck this pussy all night.” abby moans. out of nowhere, her voice is choked up and she’s throwing her head back. “c-can’t sto-p fff-uuckk, if you keep— fuuck! m-moaning like t-that i’m gonna fuck-ughing cum inside y-ou ohggh, you’d like t-that you fuckingugh s-slut? mm want my warm cum to f-fill you uhhh-up?” abby’s words are swarming you with butterflies, her needy yet dominant moans, she’s close to her orgasm. you clench around her cock, and she swears she can feel it. “mmm ye-yeah tighten ughharound m-me baby”, and with one final desperate thrust, you’re both spinning in euphoria.
abby slowly pulls her strap out of you, watching as your sweet white glaze drips onto the floor. the tall blonde licks her lips, still spinning from the 7 vodka shots from earlier her orgasm. she tries to catch her breath, “get on your knees.” she demands. and you do as you’re told because god, you’d do anything to get fucked like that again.
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<3
a/n : eeeee i’m rlly proud of this ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ !! shoutout to @whore4abby who saw a lil sneak peek first hehe . i might make a tag list for my upcoming works so lmk if u want to be added ! lots of luv my filthy bbs ♡
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crxss01 · 9 months
Text
— I Love You, Miles, But You’re Not Mine.
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ miles doesn't do dating so you have to settle for just being classmates in public and having extra benefits in private.
warnings ✧˖ ° angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, possessive miles, making out, mature themes, miles is bad at feelings and expressing them, cheating (not really, and not on reader: don't do this to people).
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ muñeca: doll, bonito: handsome/pretty boy, nos vemos luego: see you later, mi princesa: my princess.
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of course it had been a bad idea.
agreeing to have a no strings attached relationship with miles was the worst decision you had ever made in your life, you said to yourself that you wouldn't fall for him but you were just lying to yourself.
but the worst part was that you didn't regret accepting, even if the situation was breaking your heart little by little. you didn't even try to end it when you realized you were falling for him which was your second mistake.
you remember the first time miles noticed your feelings for him, something you would never forget about. it was four months ago...
your heart aching as you watched miles flirt with some girl from his class. smirking at her in a way that he used to smirk at you when you first met, sweet talking her like he used to sweet talk you, and calling her mami like he called you.
he still did all of those things with you, but it wasn't as usual anymore. everything changed since the first night, miles would only call you when he needed you and would be there if it was the other way around.
miles must have felt you staring because he looked your way and his gaze turned hard, it made shivers run down your spine. with an eye roll he nodded at the janitors closet, making sure that it wasn't obvious for the girl in front of him.
you nodded at him to let him know that you got the message and made your way there, after just standing outside of it to be slick about it you went inside, closing the door behind you and taking a deep breath in.
"don't let this be what i think it is..." you mumbled, closing your eyes.
after a few minutes, miles came in and locked the door. his stare was unreadable and you were scared of that. he definitely knew.
"you and me are not in a relationship." he went straight to the point, stating the obvious.
"okayyy..." you dragged out pretending to be oblivious. "i know that.”
"so why the fuck are you staring at my girl so hard like that, huh?" he asked. "i don't belong to anybody, so don't try that jealousy shit with me."
of all the things he said your brain only focused on two words. "your girl?"
"not yet, but she's pretty cute. my mom has been nagging me about getting a girlfriend so to stop that for a little while, i'll get one." he shrugged.
"what about me?" you asked confused, you didn't really know what your question was. what about not choosing you to pose as his girlfriend or what about the (sort of) relationship you two had? he once said he didn’t do dating so what was this?
unlucky for you, he only answered the first two.
"i don't want one my flings to meet my mom, and we can keep going with this." miles said like it was nothing. "i don't have feelings for that girl i just find her attractive."
the way he called you a fling hurt more than anything, but it was true that was what you were. just a fling, nothing more. it was sick, but it comforted you to know that he didn't have feelings for that other girl.
"okay." you nodded.
"so we clear on those feelings of yours?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
"yes."
"just yes?" he raised an eyebrow.
"yes, bonito."
"good." miles then slammed you against one of the walls of the closet, starting to kiss you. "then let's do what i wanted you here for, muñeca"
...the memory was not a nice one and you wished you could just forget about it, the girl and him weren't even together anymore.
they broke up after three months of dating, but the way he showed her off in public and the way he spoiled her was so real that you had doubts about him not having feelings for her at all. then again if he did had feelings for her he wouldn't have called you every other night to be with you.
you were considering ending it during those months that they were together but it was impossible because the words got stuck in your throat the moment you saw miles so your situation with him stayed the same.
but now you were ready, this would be the last time.
"what are you thinking about?" miles asked as he stood up from your bed, looking for his shirt and pants that now laid somewhere on the floor of your bedroom.
"i want to end this, miles." you said, sitting up and pulling the covers to your bra clad chest.
"mhm?" he hummed, not even turning to you and pulling his pants on.
"i can't do this anymore." you said, your eyes filling with tears.
"why?" he finally turned to you, and his eyes had something that you couldn't put your finger on which was not surprising considering miles was not someone who was easy to read.
"you hurt me, this—" you emphasized, tears cascading down your cheeks. "—this hurts me. you know how i feel about you yet you had made no attempt to end it when you clearly told me that you would end it the moment you noticed any romantic feelings from me."
"i did say that." he confirmed, acting nonchalant.
"then why haven't you? this feelings grow stronger the longer we stay together like this, you also said that." you stood up from the bed, now the tears were from anger more than sadness.
"you were a good lay, i didn't want to leave you 'cause of that."
you didn't know what came over you but you walked over to him and slapped him, hard.
"get out." you said, wiping your tears. you were not about to cry any more for him at least not in front of him.
"alright." miles simply said and grabbed his shirt off the floor along with his shoes, leaving your bedroom through the open window.
"don't ever come back!" you yelled after him and slammed the window shut, locking it.
you threw yourself on your bed, grabbing a pillow and crying into it..
spring break came to an end and you couldn't be more miserable, of course you couldn't be happy (or at least in peace). you just had to see his stupid, arrogant and handsome face at school.
"hey, gorgeous." you smiled, turning to marcos, one of the guys from your class.
"hey, marquitos." you said back.
"you okay? you look a little off." he showed concern.
this is what you appreciated about him even though you hadn't spoke much like you two did before you got involved with miles, marcos still cared for you. he was a sweet boy, rich and a total nerd which got him to get picked on sometimes and one of those times you defended him and after that you had become fast friends but it has been a while since you last spoke to each other.
"i have missed you." he admitted when you didn't answer.
"same." you agreed, in reality you haven't given him much thought. those were occupied with someone else.
"let's hang out this week or weekend, like we used to." he offered.
"absolutely." you agreed again, wanting something to distract you from thinking about miles. "how is that confession coming on?" you asked him when the bell rung and you both started to make your way to class.
"horrible, i don't know how to confess in a way that doesn't sound corny." marcos lamented. "i'm pretty sure she's going to reject me anyway, you know how she is."
"practice on me, i will let you know if it's corny or not." you suggested.
"that's actually a good idea." marcos nodded, excited. he was like a child like that. "maybe during lunch? i kinda don't want the whole class to hear me practicing how to confess to someone."
you laughed at that which also made him laugh as you both walked in through the door to class. your laughter died down the moment your eyes met the pair that belonged to miles, he had a hard look on his face, one you weren't familiar with.
"come on, let's sit together." marcos, pulled you to the two seats table at the far end of the room right next to where miles was sitting.
you did your best to ignore him even though you felt like he stared at you a couple of times but you assumed that was just wishful thinking.
you couldn't even remember the last time you actually had fun in a class, you were really glad that you were back to talking with marco and grateful that you two had all the same classes.
"this question is so stupid, listen.." he went on to read the question but the way he said was so not funny that it made you laugh.
"can you two stop? i'm trying to concentrate." the sudden harsh voice made you jump and you turned in your seat, looking at miles who was glaring at you and marcos.
"sorry, man." marcos apologized. "my bad."
"yeah, your bad." miles scoffed.
marcos put his hands up on defense and looked at you, his eyes showed that he was trying not to laugh and it made you smile.
after the first class all others went the same way with marcos walking with you to class like you two used to and making you laugh your ass off the only exception was that miles wasn't there to tell you both to keep it down since you only had the first class with him.
"no, but like seriously. she actually said that?" marcos asked for the fifth time, sitting next to you in the spot that you both liked to call the f.h.b.b.v.a.o, for the hottest bitches in brooklyn visions academy only. it was located in a deserted area and that's what marcos and you loved about it.
"yeah, she did." you nodded.
"i still can't believe that."
"me neither, but you know what they say." you shrugged.
"gotta expect the unexpected." you said at the same time then let out a chuckle at that.
"so, now that we are here." marcos clapped his hands together. "hear my confession out."
"it better be good." you pointed at him with your fork.
"hey! i have you here for constructive criticism, don't insult it before i even start." marcos defended himself.
"ok, ok." you put your hands up in defense.
"okay, listen." he took a deep breath, collecting himself. "i have liked you for sometime, and i have been meaning to tell you this but you were just so difficult to approach. i like everything you do, the way you laugh, the way you smile, your jokes even though they are terrible—"
"are you trying to confess or push her away?" you stopped him. "do better."
"but how?" marcos groaned, letting his head fall back.
"like this," you straighten up. "i like you and i honestly think you knew that because of the way i look at you," you laughed, yeah maybe he didn't need to add that. "the point is that i was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime?"
"that's perfect!"
"nah, it's really not." miles' voice cut in and you turned your head to the side to throw a glare at the boy.
"what do you want?" you snapped at him.
miles didn't answer instead he took hold of your elbow and pulled you up from where you were sitting, grabbing the back of your neck in his hand and pulling your face closer to his until your lips connected.
for a moment you got lost in the kiss, having missed miles for the rest of the spring break. the taste of his lips was a sweet one, demonstrating false innocence and giving hopefulness to anyone who got a taste of them but you knew better. the mouth might be sweet, but what came out of it was nothing but bitter.
then you snapped out of it and pushed him away, trying to shake your arm out of his grip on it but it was futile. marcos looked back and forth between you and miles with wide eyes.
"let go of me, you have let it be known really clear what i was to you already." you told him.
"leave." miles told your friend. "now." he added when marcos didn't attempt to move.
"it's okay, marquitos." you assured him. "you can go."
the boy looked skeptical but he nodded and left, leaving you alone with miles.
"so what do you want?" you asked him. "came to repeat what you said?"
"i know what i said, mami." his eyes now revealed guilt a look you have only seen once before, after he had cursed out his best friend ganke when the boy had found you in a compromising position in their dorm. "and i'm sorry, i really do. i have just been overwhelmed with this feelings and i didn't know what to do."
"what feelings? the ones you had when you told me i was just a good lay?"
"no, i.." miles sighed. "i regret saying that more than anything, i just don't know how to handle what i feel for you. i even got that fake girlfriend to see if i could forget about you, but it was impossible and she could see through me and immediately knew i was just trying to get over someone but she was also doing the same so she didn't say anything. you are on my mind twenty four/seven, when i see a couple all i think about is how we would look like in their place. when i see you smile, i think that you are the most beautiful girl in this world. when i hear you laugh, i think that it is the most beautiful sound in this earth. when i see you too close with someone else, i think about how i should be in their place. when i'm not with you, i long to be with you. when we argued and i saw those tears running down your face it felt like the whole world was coming down and that it was my fault, i felt like i didn't deserve you. you are too good for me so i pushed you away."
through the whole speech you stood there quietly, your brain processing every single word he just said. the confession was like something out of a movie and so not what you expected, miles morales opened up to you and you still couldn't believe it.
the fact that the fake ex girlfriend knew of his situation with you baffled you, all this time you had felt horrible for being the side piece but she had been aware and had been okay with it.
"but i kept thinking about the last thing so much that i spoke to my mom about it. she told me that the only way i wouldn't deserve you is if i don't admit the way i wronged you and apologized for it because according to her i deserve the world. and in my books, you are the world." miles let go of your elbow and grabbed your face in his hands. "can you give me a chance? i would do anything for you to forgive me."
"i didn't deserve that." you finally spoke up.
your emotions were all over the place, you felt excitement, anger, sadness, and fear. scared of what you might decide if he kept insisting about you two being together.
"i know, and i'm willing to wait for you. what i feel for you is something i have never felt for anyone and if you take forever deciding if you want to give me a chance then i will wait for you forever." miles wiped a tear that escaped you eye away with his thumb. "i never want to see you cry for me again."
"yeah, i need time." you nodded. "i can't do this right now." you said, you weren't in your right mind to answer his question. your thoughts were plagued with what he said to you that night, but the confession was making you consider. "just give me this week to think, and it will be better if you keep your distance."
"alright, i can do that." miles nodded, then looked deep in thought before speaking again. "so what was that between you and marquitos?" he said the nickname with disgust.
"don't start," you glared at him, your face still in his hands. "i was just teaching him how to confess properly."
"mmh." he hummed, then moved on of his hands to place a kiss on your cheek. "talk to you next monday then?"
"yeah," you nodded.
"just yeah?" he raised an eyebrow.
"don't push it."
miles smiled and it surprised you since it wasn't a smirk. his smiles were rare and they were mostly reserved for his mom, you knew that because sometimes she would call when he was with you and he answered with a smile on his face each time, so it being directed to you had you feeling butterflies for him all over again.
"nos vemos luego, muñeca." he placed one final kiss on your cheek before walking away.
you watched him go and noticed how there was a little hop to his steps which made you smile, a hand coming up to touch your cheek where he had kissed you.
this type of affection was unusual from him, he only ever kissed your lips never anywhere else. it made your smile even bigger, your decision had been made the moment he kissed your cheek, but you still wanted time in case you changed your mind.
the days went by quickly and suddenly it was monday again. you were nervous because what if you approached miles and he didn't want anything with you anymore? maybe you should wait for him to approach you?
"just go to him." marcos told you, the boy had demanded to know everything between you and miles after your encounter in front of him.
"but what if he laughs right on my face and says it was all a big joke? you do know he doesn't do dates and stuff." you reminded marcos.
"didn't he date that one girl from his class?" marcos asked, he clearly knew the answer to that question.
"that was different, he said that it was—" you stopped talking, remembering the real reason.
"exactly. it was all to forget you but look at that, he couldn't and wants you so..." he pointed across the cafeteria to where miles was sitting, airpods in and doing something on a notebook, probably sketching.
"no." you shook your head. "i can't do this." your head came down on the table, forehead hitting it way too hard and you immediately picked your head back up holding onto your forehead. "ouch, that hurts."
"good, crazy ass." marcos shook his head and pushed his seat back. "i'll fix this thing."
"how?"
your eyes widened when you saw your friend making his way to the table where miles was, you wanted nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. what is this boy thinking?
the two of them exchanged a few words and marcos pointed at you making miles turn his head in your direction and you waved awkwardly, maybe you should get this done now.
miles nodded at whatever marcos told him, picking his stuff up and standing, making his way to you.
"hey, mi princesa." he said, taking a seat next to you.
marcos gave you a thumbs up and sat on the table where miles had been.
"hey," you said back. "so, obviously i made a decision."
"what did you decide?" his eyes looked hopeful and you were so glad he had dropped that cold front he always put in-front of everyone, his unreadable eyes were not unreadable anymore at least not to you.
"i want to give a relationship with you a try." you spoke after a moment. "but i want to take things slow, like maybe get to know you more. i realized that i don't really know a lot about your personal life."
"of course, anything you want. i'll tell you everything." the smile on his face was enough to lighten up your day, a matching one making its way onto your face. "so how about we go on a date after school?"
"we don't have permission to go out." you told him.
"then we escape, i just want to have a nice afternoon with my girl. they can't punish us for that." he shrugged.
you laughed, you should've expected that offer. "of course."
"is it too early to kiss you?"
"not on the first date." you shook your head putting on a fake serious face. "maybe on the twentieth one."
"i'll wait for the hundredth one if necessary."
you smiled softly, you loved how much effort he was putting into this even though he had never had a serious relationship before.
"i can kiss your cheek though, right?"
you bursted out laughing and he took that opportunity to grab you and leave multiple kissed on your cheek.
"i like you so much..." he said as he continued to attack your cheek.
"i like you a lot too." you said back, trying to push him away even though you actually didn't want the moment to end.
"not more than i do." he argued, placing his forehead on top of your own.
"i fell first, though. so i think i like you more."
"you did fall first, but i fell harder so i win.”
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taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @banqnaz @fiannee @sp1dercunt
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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sublimecatgalaxy · 4 months
Note
Finnick and maybe like arguing in the arena that turns into a kiss?👀
It's been a few months since I got this but since I'm in my Finnick era, I thought I'd finally write this!
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"You need to slow down," Finnick mutters under his breath and reaches out to grab at my wrist, stopping me in my tracks as I nearly trip over a branch that's stuck in our path. My head whips around to look at him with a deadly look at he pauses before his cocky grin takes over once more.
"Maybe you need to pick up the speed." I snap, tilting my head at him in a calculated way and he laughs, shrugging his shoulders brifely before looking around at the others with a tired look on his face. We're twenty minutes into the games and we're already at each others throats.
You should've seen us in training.
"You know, when I agreed to team up with you and the others, I didn't think I'd be bullied the whole time." He crosses his arms across his chest with his nose in the air and I scoff, rolling my eyes at his taunting behavior.
"I'm not bullying you. Pointing out that you're too fast is a fact." He shots back and laughs and I turn to look at Katniss with a dumbfounded look but she just gives me a shrug but I can see Peeta attempting to hold back an obvious laugh.
"Finnick, shut up." I finally say, huffing shortly.
"You guys sound like a married couple." Peeta adds and I look to him with wide eyes and Finnick gives him a similar look with a small gasp.
"Shut up!"
I let the thought infiltrate my head for a moment, picturing Finnick and I, standing hand in hand, smiling instead of biting each other's head off every five seconds whenever we're in the same room together. We've known each other for years, through the capital and what they used us for, but now that I think of it, I don't think we've ever had a serious conversation.
"You guys can go ahead, I need to slap some sense into this kid." I wave the rest of the group away from us and they all give the two of us a hesitant nod before moving along the trail, still ever so careful, leaving Finnick and I behind.
"You have me alone. It's what you've always wanted, right sweetheart?" He flirts and I can't deny the way it makes my stomach flip and for a moment I can feel my cheeks heat up under his weighted gaze and I swallow deeply.
"You're insufferable." The words come out more breathy than I want them too and I almost want to tell them that now is not the time to decide to flirt with me and sweep me off my feet. There's more time for that, when we're free and the revolution has begun. But apart of me is selfish.
"You're beautiful." He takes a step towards me with a sinister smile and I feel my breath being sucked from my lungs as his hand reaches up to cradle my cheek softly and he gives me a small wink before leaning in and I panic.
"Finnick." I place my hand on his chest and he pauses for a moment but I don't push him away, instead, after just a moment of hesitation, I give him a gentle nod.
He leans in and presses his lips to mine, my lips instinctively parting to deepen the kiss with a smile, his other hand wraps around my back, pulling me closer to him and I can only imagine the cameras zooming in on us and all our sponsors cheering and sending us goods as we kiss.
He pulls away with a smile, his eyes staying closed for just a moment before they open, blue hues focusing on mine as I raise my hands to my cheeks, concealing my giddy smile.
"Shut up."
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callmerainman · 1 month
Text
THE SMITHS | Adam x fem!angel!Reader
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SECOND PART
plot. in which Adam, after bumping into you listening to music in the elevator, gives you unsolicited music recommendations.
tags. first meetings, Adam being Adam, flirting, concerts, music, getting to know each other, rockstar Adam (still takes place in canon).
taglist. @call-me-nyxx
a/n. Adam is my muse at this point, he's directing all my creative energy lmao. This came up to me as an idea last night, kinda different from my usual Adam content! Might do a part 2, we'll see about that, enjoy!
«Take me out tonight, where there's music and there's people who are young and alive»
The elevator doors slide close, the few heavenly beings have exited, leaving you alone inside the cubic space. Absentmindedly, your foot starts tapping on the floor. A faint melody can be heard from outside your earbuds, the volume of the music set on max. You bumped music in your ears every chance you got, including when you were on bureaucratic duty for the Seraphim's.
«Driving in your car, I never ever want to go home».
As the elevator stops at the upper floor, the doors slide open and reveal who called it. Immediately, you adjust your pose, clutching your paperwork against your chest with arms crossed. Adam, the First Man, just entered the elevator.
He's loudly sipping what seems to be a sugary beverage from a large cup, positioning himself next to you. You've seen him many times, from a distance. At meetings, where you worked as an assistant, walking around Heaven, on posters advertising his band, in court. But you never interacted, there was no reason to. He was one of the big heads of Heaven, while you just hoped that nobody would yell at you for not adding enough milk to their coffee. Of course, this is what makes you nervous. But when the doors close again, you take a deep breath and let the music envelope you again.
«And if a double decker bus, crashes into us»
You relax, forgetting that Adam is next to you. You just stare at the elevator doors, unbothered. You just let yourself get lost in the sad, indie rock tunes that paradoxically raised your spirits. That's until, with the corner of your eye, you see Adam turning towards you. He's saying something, but music muffles your hearing.
«Ihatethasmiths»
You remove one of your earbuds, and you turn around with a gentle, sweet smile.
«Mh? Sorry?» you ask, the corner of your lips curling upwards.
«I said I fuckin' hate The Smiths!».
Your smile fades out immediately, your eyes go wide and your eyebrows shoot upwards. Adam goes back to look straight in front of him.
«tO dIe By YoUr SIdE iS SucH a HeaVenLy wAY to DiE! Ugh, fuckin' hate 'em » he mocks.
Dumbfounded, you just stare at the First Man in shock. Your mouth is slightly open, and your earbud is still pressed between your thumb and index as you can still hear There Is a Light That Never Goes Out playing. Then, the elevator doors slide open with a ding! and Adam just exits, slurping loudly his drink as if nothing happened. You follow him with your gaze, still in shock. The doors start closing again.
«Holy shit» that's all you can say, before disappearing behind them.
Next week, you're still in the elevator, a cup of hot coffee in your hand and your earbuds religiously plugged in your ears. Today you're in a good mood. The Heaven Headquarters offices weren't too packed with work and you were rising to the highest floor of the palace to spend time with your co-workers. That's until the elevator stops and the First Man Adam comes in. Again. You stiffen, your wings twitch and, hoping to not be noticed, you roll your eyes. Now that you think about it, it's the same day and hour you two met last week. When he, not-so-kindly, expressed his disappointment in your music taste. Suddenly, you realize something else. That you're...
«You still listenin' to that crap?» Adam says, pointing a finger towards your earbuds.
You sigh, resigned. You're still listening to The Smiths. This time around you heard Adam loud and clear, but you turn the volume down anyways. And, not caring about being all dignified and reverential in front of him, you roll your eyes in front of him.
«Yeah, I'm still listening to The Smiths. Heaven knows I'm Miserable Now».
Adam, scoffing, symbolically brings two fingers towards his mask and pretends to throw up.
«The Smiths are the bane of rock, I swear! Who wants to listen to a man being all whiny about love, vegetarianism and shit. Rock 'n roll is something else, I tell you»
«I disagree on that»
How did you even end up in this situation? Discussing music in an elevator with the First Man on Earth, one of the most important authorities of Heaven. It's just unreal, so much that going on doesn't bother you that much.
«You're into rock music?» Adam asks, shaking his usual drink in his hand, ice making a crisp sound inside the cup.
«Safe to say yes» you say, a collected but confident smile on your face.
«Okay, okay» Adam smirks, mischievous «and who are you rocking out to?»
«Oasis» you reply.
«Ugh»
«Radiohead»
«Nahh»
«Arctic Monkeys»
«Ew»
«Joy Division»
«For fucks sake woman, are you gonna give me a real rock band or keep naming your emo fest-»
«Guns 'n Roses»
Adam's breath stops for a second. You stare at him with a challenging look. His LED eyes digitally burned on his mask squint.
«Okayy miss...?»
«(Y/N)»
«(Y/N). Name 3 Guns 'n Roses songs»
You raise a finger in front of him, your eyes wide in a sort of prohibitive look.
«Nuh uh, don't you try to pull that move on me, I'm not gonna name anything».
«Tch, as I thought» Adam says, before sipping on his cup of icy soda.
You emit an annoyed groan, before sipping on your coffee yourself. As you're about to press start again on your phone to replay the music and metaphorically cancel Adam's presence from the elevator, he speaks again.
«Listen, girlie, if you wanna listen to some real rock music you should, first of all, give up on that sentimental bullshit that people call rock nowadays. Second, you can start by coming to one of my concerts. I'm-»
«Adam, The First Man. I know who you are» you interrupt.
You move your weight from one leg to the other, as Adam playfully smirks at you.
«Of course you know who I am, you probably heard of me from my band»
«Actually, I work as an assistant for the Seraphims meetings» you say.
«Oh, nah I never noticed you. You sure you don't know me from my band? We're pretty sick»
It's not like you expected him to know you from meetings. You mostly worked behind closed doors, preparing paperwork and only handling it to Seraphims last minute. And Adam wasn't really a necessary presence at meetings. He was important, an authority holding a great power for sure, but you don't really understand of what kind.
«I heard that you got a band but sorry, Christian rock is not my genre» you reply, nonchalantly.
Adam jumps a little in surprise, an appalled sound escaping his lips.
«Oh no sweetie, you got it all wrong. Didn't you listen to me when I said that we're a real rock band? We sing about all things rock» he says, theatrically.
«For example?»
«Sex, drugs and bitches of course».
You let out an ironic chuckle, not thoroughly convinced.
«I heard your venues are like, really crowded. I don't know if I feel like tip-toeing all night long to see anything»
«You can always tell security that you're with me»
His statement surprises you, so much that you turn around with a frowned forehead. The scrunch in your face says it all about your uncertainty. Adam looks chill, confidently leaning on the elevator's mirror and looking at you. How long have you been riding this thing?
«You think they'll believe me? Not even in a 100 years»
«Listen sweet cheeks, I'll meet you at the queue between sound check and the start of the show and I'll directly tell em that you're with me».
«You want me to play groupie?»
«Aren't you already?» Adam grins with a wiggle of his eyebrows. A very shit-eating grin.
You let out a playful and sarcastic chuckle «No, but I accept your offer, Mr. Real Rockstar»
«More of a real rockstar than Morissey»
The elevator doors open, it feels like you've been there for an eternity but not necessarily in a bad way. It's Adam's floor, the one just beneath yours, and he waves at you goodbye with a hand.
«See you Saturday, you'll be my number one fan».
«You wish»
How was that one of the most annoying, yet weirdly entertaining conversations you ever had?
You've never been to an Adam's concert, because you never had the chance to get into his music even if he was really known all around Heaven. But it was true that his gigs were packed. The line is infinite, and the venue probably won't even be enough for all these people. Suddenly you start to regret your decision. Damn, you even dressed up for this! You nervously start shifting your weight from one side to the other of your body. Security is already telling some people to just go home because it's likely that tickets just ran out. One titanic of a bodyguard goes up to you, arms crossed.
«I'm sorry miss, but we're out of tickets»
«Oh it's fi-»
You can't finish the phrase, distracted by the feeling of a stranger arm wrapping around your shoulders. You straighten yourself, and turn around alarmed. Adam had appeared from behind a portal, which immediately closed behind him. All the people left in the queue turn around, shocked to see the frontman appear right there.
«Don't worry dude, she's with me» he says, confidently.
How can someone be such a loser and so charismatic at the same time? This is what you ask yourself while wrapped around Adam's arm. The security guard nods, and Adam opens the portal back with a snap of fingers. Soon, you find yourself in the front row. Did he just transport you there? Adam has already let go of your shoulders, standing behind the barrier. Fans in the front row start going crazy at the unexpected sight of the frontman. As they scream incoherent, adoring gibberish to him, Adam stays focused on you.
«I'm happy you're here. Trust me, your ears will thank me for blessing them with some real rock» he says, his playful smirk permanently printed on his mask.
You roll your eyes, but you're betrayed by your own smile «We'll see»
«Trust me, you won't be disappointed» Adam replied.
Then, he winks at you before turning around and heading towards the backstage.
When the concert is over, you can confidently say that no, you aren't disappointed. As much as you hate to admit it, Adam can get it. He knows how to play guitar, he's vocally a beast in every good sense possible, and he's a stage animal. He's an idiot for sure, an arrogant one, but he quite literally fucking rocks. It's the way he plays guitar solos, his finger picking technique flawless and effortless. And how he knew how to talk to the crowd, how to move on stage. And you also saw him for the first time without a mask. You didn't know what to expect, but you have no complaints whatsoever. Brown, messy hair, dark but charming circles under his eyes, a fierce grin on his face. You felt your stomach fluttering when he obviously looked at you during Stick It To The Man. As people are leaving the venue, you're about to do the same. Maybe you and Adam will talk about it on your next random encounter on the elevator. But, before you can turn around, you see a security guard gesturing you to come close. He opens the barrier for you, and, confused, you shuffle your way through it.
«Yeah?» you ask.
«Adam wants to see you» the bodyguard says, moving his head to invite you to follow him.
Your heart skips a beat. This is some groupie shit. But you don't mind. You follow the security guard to the backstage, hugging yourself slightly out of nervousness. Adam, who was talking to the drummer, immediately stops the conversation when he sees you approaching behind the security guard. A wide smile extends on his face.
«So, (Y/N)! Did you change your mind about The Smiths?» he asks, opening his arms.
You place your hands on your hips «No, but...you weren't half-bad»
«Not half-bad?» he says, almost offended.
You decide to give up the tough girl act «Okay, I'll admit it, you know how to rock. You were really good».
«HA! Told you! Ladies love my band and you're no exception. And THIS is real rock»
«I'll still bump the shit out of The Smiths next time we meet on the elevator» you protest with a smirk, crossing your arms on your chest.
Adam drags a hand between his messy hair «Instead of meeting in the elevator, me and the rest of the band are going to the after party. It's in a club near the venue. Why don't you come? I still have to recommend you some real music»
Oh this is bad. Adam's teasing smile, the way he got closer to you and is now staring down at you without a shade of awkwardness. And the fact that one of his skilled hands is now placed on your waist, again, without any form of hesitation. Is he hitting on you? You feel your face burning, pressing your lips together. Would accepting make you a groupie? And soon, you realize that you don't care.
«Okay, First Man, I'll come with you. But only if you don't ask me to name 3 songs of a band»
«Deal»
466 notes · View notes
cassiefromhell · 6 months
Text
The Game
Nanami x Wife!Reader
wc: 2.7k
warnings: f!reader, mdni/18+, smut, teasing, ROUGH, manhandling, gentle choking, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering a/n: this is a combination of my reaction to the latest jjk ep and a general need for manhandling nanami.
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You know exactly what is coming for you.
You can feel his eyes on you from across the room. Watching you. 
Watching his pretty little wife play games that she’d lose. 
Because you have one goal in mind: piss off your husband, Nanami Kento.
Which is not an easy task. But you had pissed him off once before, a few weeks ago, and had been insatiably craving more. His reaction that night was… his hands in your hair, throwing you back against the bed, the words out of his mouth—
You can’t help but blush a little at the memories that flood your head now, as you speak to a man twice your age at this party. You know this man thinks he has a chance with you. He came up to you earlier, and is now flirting with you relentlessly, seeming blind to the ring on your marriage finger which marks you as claimed. 
You giggle a little at something he says, taking your poker and stabbing at the fire. You sip the glass of wine in your hands. There’s no need to look over your shoulder to confirm; Kento is most decidedly watching you.
And that fire? It’s growing.
You can feel the way your white silk mini dress has ridden up your thighs a little, but you don’t do anything to fix it, no matter how much the skin on the back of your thighs sizzles and sears under his scorched gaze.
All it takes is for the man to reach out, try to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and the flame explodes.
Hands are on your waist in an instant, a cotton-covered, firm chest pressed against your back. You know that chest. Those hands.
“I think it’s time for us to get going, don’t you think, dear?” Kento grits out, his thumbs digging into your skin. A warning.
“Oh,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him. You’re met with a hard-set jaw and cold eyes, as your husband stares down the inferior man who got a centimeter too close. “But it’s raining. We’ll have to wait for it to slow down a bit, or have a valet bring the car around, we’re parked a block away—”
“We’ll walk. Goodbye,” he flashes the tightest, fakest smile you’ve ever seen, and then turns you towards the elevator, pushing you in that direction.
And what choice do you have? You half walk, half stumble forward, his hands never faltering in their iron grip the whole walk over. He stops you in front of the elevator.
“Button,” he commands, jerking his chin towards the panel with two buttons, one an up arrow and the other down.
“Why do I have to do it?”
“It seems that if I let you go for half a second, you’ll run off and let yourself get eye-fucked by a nobody in a cheap suit. Button,” he growls, his hands tightening their grip, causing your sides to protest.
You whimper softly, reaching out and pressing the down button. It glows a soft blue, and you tilt your head to the side, gazing up at your angry, blond man. “What’s got you in such a frenzy? I was socializing—”
He scoffs. “Socializing. Sure. I know the game you’re playing, and might I remind you that it’s a game you can’t win, darling.”
You swallow hard, fighting back a flinch as the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. 
Empty.
Kento shuffles you both inside, and holds the ‘close doors’ button so hard that you’re afraid it might actually crack.
The elevator doors slide closed, and he releases you, taking two steps back.
Suddenly, the air is so thick that you can hardly breathe, and the thought of the fingerprint bruises he’s likely left on you fills your head.
“Ke—”
“No. No more words from you,” he spits out, practically punching the ground floor button.
You pout, and take a step towards him. “‘Nam, c’mon,” you poke that damned fire again, just waiting for it to burn you.
And it does.
His arm snaps out, his hand gripping your chin, tilting your head up. “I said, quiet.”
That sharp anger in his eyes makes your stomach flutter, abdomen tensing. You bite your bottom lip, and try your luck. “You’re a little angry, huh?”
Your back is against the wall before you can even process what’s happened, before you recognize that he’s shoved you into the corner of the elevator, one hand gripping your neck and the other pressed firmly against your hip, keeping you in place. His body is fully pressed to yours, and the straining bulge you feel is unmistakable.
“Angry? You have no idea,” he says, his voice having dropped to an eerily calm tone. “I want to throw you onto the ground of this damned elevator and make you suck me off right here, right now. I want to fuck your throat, and then that kinky little cunt of yours, until you are sobbing and begging me to stop.”
Your breath catches in your throat— no, it completely stops. You’re no longer breathing.
“Then do it.”
He gives a breathy chuckle, suddenly spinning you around, a hand knotting in your hair and shoving your cheek against the wall. And then he leans down, presses his lips against your ear, and…
“No. You’d like that too much.”
You whine, straining against his grip on you. Kento is usually ever the gentleman, the perfect white picket fence husband. He brings you roses each Friday and a piece of your favorite cake every Tuesday, and fucks the shit out of you each day when he returns from missions. But he’s so… polite, all the time, his touch gentle and his voice soft. He’s the type to rest his hand on your thigh while he drives, and carry you bridal style into the house.
But this Kento… This Kento is the reason you’re trying to piss him off. Because you unlocked the manhandling, relentless Kento once, and now can’t get enough of it.
Suddenly, the hand on your neck drops down, down, down to your thighs, and then up under your skirt. Kento’s fingers ghost over your bare pussy, straight up laughing when he realizes you’re wearing no underwear. But the laughter is harsh, and sends shivers down your spine.
“You really planned this, didn’t you dear.” It’s more of a statement than a question.
“Can you blame me?” You murmur, trying to grind down on his hand, the hand which is now cupping your dripping cunt, the heel of his hand juuuust below your clit. “Please.”
“We’re almost on our floor,” Kento suddenly releases you, fixing your dress with a soft touch and taking two steps back. 
You open your mouth to complain, but right on cue, the elevator doors slide open. Kento presses a hand against the small of your back, forcibly guiding you out of the elevator, and across the plaza, out to the main doors.
Where it’s pouring.
You pause outside the glass doors, crossing your arms across your chest. “No. It’s pouring.”
Kento sighs, but looks you over, and realizes it at the same moment as you do; you’re wearing white.
And Kento is a gentleman.
“I’ll bring the car around. You stay right here, you understand me?”
You nod, and he’s out the doors in an instant.
You find yourself shifting on your feet as you wait, your heels really starting to do a number on you. You keep fixing your dress, trying to ignore how you’re wetter than the rain outside.
Your feet have not moved an inch when your familiar white BMW M8 pulls up to the doors, and your husband gets out of the driver's seat, umbrella in hand.
And he is soaking wet.
His blue shirt sticks to his chest, not hiding any of the rippling muscle along his entire torso. He’s discarded his gray suit jacket, but the pants have darkened a shade due to the rain. His hair sticks to his face, blond locks drenched.
You can’t help the blush that rises to your cheeks when you realize how close you are to being able to make out his dick print, and that only worsens when he walks through those doors, headed straight for you.
“I didn’t move,” you murmur as he takes your arm, gripping your bicep tightly and heading for the exit once more.
“That earns you no brownie points tonight.”
Kento opens the umbrella as he drags you outside, holding it over your head. Not a drop of water hits you as he escorts you to the car, and then opens the door to the back seat.
You raise a brow. “Backseat?”
“So you can’t touch me,” he replies, and then promptly sweeps your feet out from under you, catches you, and tosses you into the back seat.
You yelp as your back hits the leather, and the door is closed immediately. Kento is in the driver’s seat before you can blink, staring at you in the rear view mirror. 
You buckle yourself up, and he seems satisfied, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot at a speed that’s probably too fast.
You chew your bottom lip, watching his hair drip onto his face, watching his hands white-knuckle the steering wheel, watching his foot press the accelerator.
“You’ll catch a cold,” you murmur, leaning forward and running a hand over his hair, trying to squeeze some of the water out.
His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your fingers away from his head. “No touching.”
You pout, unbuckling yourself and scooting forward, pressing your face against his neck. “Kentoooo…”
You feel the change in his demeanor immediately. He tenses, and reaches back to grip your hair, yanking your head away from him.
“That’s it,” he hisses, and pulls the car into an empty parking lot, putting it in park.
He’s out of the driver’s seat instantly, coming around to the back, and climbing into the back seat.
You have to fight back your victorious grin, but he doesn’t have the same plans as you do, because he grabs you, and pulls you out of the car and into the rain.
“Kento—”
His mouth crashes into yours, and he grabs your chin tightly, his other hand holding your waist to his. You whimper into his mouth, trying to ignore the cold rainwater that’s certainly making your white dress translucent.
He pulls away just when you begin to shiver, then drags you around the car, putting you into the passenger seat and slamming the door. He appears back in the driver’s seat in an instant, his jaw once again set and eyes cold as ice.
“What happened to the no touching rule?” You grin, kicking off your heels.
“Better idea.”
He pulls back onto the road, eyes staying on the path ahead, all while his hand starts to make its way under your skirt.
You realize what he’s doing just as a finger plunges into you, sliding easily with your wetness. You groan loudly, whimpering as his thumb grazes your clit.
He slides in a second finger, and starts pulling them out and pushing them back in, all while stimulating your clit.
It hardly takes any time at all for you to be whimpering and grinding against his hand, gripping the door for support and leverage.
With a few more strokes and swipes of his thumb, that coil in your abdomen begins to tighten, your cunt clenching around his fingers. “Ah— oh, shit…”
Kento withdraws his hand, and you open your mouth to protest, then realize he’s pulled the car into your garage, and is putting it in park.
And he presses the garage door closing button.
And then waits, both hands on the steering wheel, as the garage door closes.
The second that the concrete meets the door, Kento turns his head to look at you, all needy and desperate with pleas begging to escape your lips.
“You really want me to be rough with you?” he asks, his brows stitched together in concern.
“Wherever would you have gotten that impression?” you drone, raising a brow sarcastically. “I want to get the ever-loving shit fucked out of me.”
“You want to be hurt?”
“A little. I liked last time,” you murmur, allowing your mind to slip back a little bit, back to that night that had left you both bruised and begging for more.
“There are better ways to go about this than pissing me off,” your husband narrows his eyes, jaw clenching.
“This is the authentic way.”
“You’re spoiled, you know that?”
“You’re hard as fuck, you feel that?” your eyes flick to the bulge under his pants zipper.
That’s enough to send Kento flying out of the car, and before you know it, he’s opening your door, dragging you out by your bicep.
You yelp, stumbling forward as his grip on you — which is covered in your slick — remains firm. He pulls you into the house, and your back is pressed against a wall immediately, his mouth on yours, hand around your throat.
Kento pulls you up the wall, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your aching cunt against his shirt. He roots his fingers in your hair, tugging just enough to be a bit painful.
Clearly he’s done waiting, because his dick is out within seconds, and he’s pulling up your dress. You whimper once the fabric is bunched up around your waist, gripping his shoulders.
“Please…”
“You think that’s enough?” he scoffs, tugging your hair and tilting your head back. “You flirt with another man, nearly let him touch you, act like a brat, and you expect me to just give it to you?” Nevertheless, he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with the slightest bit of pressure. 
“Fuck—” you whine, groaning softly. The hand holding you up digs into your skin. “I’ll be good— jesus, please. I need you.”
Kento slaps your ass, and then thrusts nearly his entire thick length in at once, causing you to cry out, tears coming to your eyes. He immediately starts a bruising pace, fucking you into the wall so god damn hard that a picture frame nearby rattles.
You whimper as his cock reaches that sweet spot once— and then again, and again, until you’re matching each thrust with a tilt of your hips and a moan.
“Fuck— there you go, baby,” he grits out, yanking on your hair. “Take it all.”
That familiar cool begins to tighten, your abdomen tensing as he picks up his pace even more, and you wonder how it’s possible — untll you look down and realize he’s using the tiniest bit of cursed energy to fuck the actual shit out of you.
“Cum for me, come on. You wanted this so bad, so cum on my dick.”
And that’s enough to send you tumbling over the edge, stars flooding your vision and a long string of curses leaving your lips like a prayer.
His thrusts grow a little sloppier, and he spills himself into you with a hiss, leaving little nips along your jawline. 
“I’m not close to being done with you, just as a fair warning,” he growls, and then tosses you over his shoulder.
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At this point, you’re half dead.
But also half alive, kept awake by Kento’s hands rubbing circles along your skin, the bubbly bath water tickling your breasts. 
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to a bruise on your shoulder.
You give a half-babbled response, leaning into his warmth more.
“Full sentences, please.”
“Mm.. I love you,” you manage, turning to face him. You press your face into his neck and inhale his scent.
“I love you too.”
A long pause comes, with Kento just rubbing circles into your bruised sides. Then, he speaks.
“Now, what did we learn?”
“That pissing off the husband results in mind-blowing sex.”
He draws a sharp breath in, and smacks your shoulder gently. “No, no. We learned that we don’t have to piss the husband off, we just have to use our words and plan a date for these things.”
“That’s not very authentic.”
“Do I have a shot at winning this?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Alright.”
915 notes · View notes
tragedybunny · 5 months
Note
Hey there, saw you were so short requests for Astarion. I'll make it short and simple for ideas. How about either; autistic-coded, plus size or shorter! Tav relationship with Astarion headcanon ideas?
Thanks for the ask. I decided to go with autistic Tav since I actually have an idea for a plus size Tav rolling around my idea doc.
Astarion x Autistic GN!Reader Headcanons
Astarion is so pretty, he intimidates you. You’ve always been an outsider, and the people that put you down the most are always the pretty, perfect, definitely not weird people. 
Despite this, you start to find him nice enough, even letting him feed on you. 
When Astarion starts flirting with you, you absolutely do not notice, much to his frustration.
When he eventually bluntly asks you for sex, it makes you so sad. Being the town oddball, you’re used to being propositioned as a joke. You quietly turn him down and decide Astarion isn’t your friend after all. 
You keep feeding him though when he needs it. Mostly because you’re not sure how to tell him about how it made you feel.
Astarion is stunned you turned him down, sure you haven’t been responsive to his flirting, but you get along well enough. And he’s afraid, you need to be on his side since everyone looks up to you. 
He tries to flirt a few more times, but he finds it hurts a little more each time you don’t reciprocate. Even worse, he starts thinking about how nice it would be if you did, even if it was just a smile thrown his way. 
It’s so confusing, he stops even feeding from you, worried one night he’ll ask to just stay, to be allowed to even be in your presence for a few hours. 
You’re always so quiet and reserved around him, but he starts to notice how there’s certain people you just bloom around. Karlach for example, you seem to have no problem chatting the large Tiefling’s ear off. 
It would seem you just don’t like him. 
One day the two of you are rummaging through a ruined house and end up in an old library. A shout from you makes him turn and ask if you’re alright. 
You explain you’re excited because you found a book from this series you love. It’s these biographies of old nobles, heroes, etc., fictionalized but really fun. 
You’re smiling and your eyes are so bright. Astarion’s never seen anything so beautiful. 
Then it all dies in an instant. “I’m sorry, this is silly. I’m probably bothering you.” 
Astarion wants to gut every person who ever made you feel that way. And he can tell there were many. 
He hurries to assure you that you are not boring him, and this is not silly. 
With a little prodding, you continue until the sound of Gnolls in the distance makes you both realize it’s time to go. 
At the last second, he recalls he saw the author’s name in another pile that had fallen from the shelf. He plucks it out and hands it to you. “Now you have two.”
That night, you shyly turn up at his tent, asking if he’d like to borrow one. 
At this point, he’d read a book Gale wrote on Tressyms just to talk with you about it. 
“If you’ll stay and read with me.” He’s shocked you agree.
It’s becomes a ritual, you read together at night, and talk about it on the road during the day. 
You’re finally all bright and cheerful with him, and it takes his breath away. 
One night, he can’t resist and leans in to steal a kiss while you’re chatting. 
You’re stunned. Normally you’d think he was making fun of you again, but now that you’ve gotten closer, it’s just confusing.
You finally have the courage to ask, and Astarion confesses how long he’s liked you. 
You’re overwhelmed and take a while to speak, making Astarion afraid he’s just ruined everything.
When you do, everything spills out, as you hurriedly explain why you kept your distance. 
Astarion really can’t believe that a kind, gorgeous person like yourself was some sort of strange outcast. But he is a Vampire so maybe he’s skewed. 
The two of you take things slow, you don’t exactly have much experience in romance. 
Which is nice, it let’s Astarion figure himself out a bit more. 
He realizes that sometimes you get in over your head in social situations, and he’s always there to back you up or take over.
The first time you had a meltdown, you were both scared, Astarion that he'd caused it somehow and you that he'd see how abnormal you were.
Afterwards, he starts to open up more about disassociating and his nightmares.
You learn how to take care of each other when these things happen. 
Astarion will admit he doesn't always follow the thought process that's going on in that lovely head of yours, but it makes you even more fascinating, not frustrating like you worry. 
You call yourself strange and again he reminds you he's a literal blood sucking, undead, creature of the night. Who's the strange one? 
When you talk about something you're passionate about, you're amazing to watch. 
Astarion doesn't come with ingrained expectations you can never meet. He just wants you to be you. 
You've never felt more comfortable and safe around anyone. 
Astarion often threatens to head back to your hometown to teach a few people a lesson. You tell him it doesn't matter anymore, you're so happy right now, today 
The two of you argue constantly about who's luckier to have ended up in this relationship. But it feels like you were made to be together. 
Tag list, to be added comment or dm me
@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21
@tallymonster @dependsonthedream
@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess
@lumienyx @elora-the-slutty-songstress
@astariongf @satanicspinosaurus @lisrelly
626 notes · View notes
minnillea · 5 months
Text
OVERNIGHT STAY (Keegan P. Russ X Reader)
Wrote more for Keegan enemies to lovers style bc, yes. (5k words)
CW: MDNI!, explicit content ahead, NSFW, smut, soft dom Keegan (really sweet), sub fem reader, play fighting, love bites, overstimulation, nipple play, pet names, creampie, fingering, edging, unholy amount of teasing, basically really hot and heavy make out session, and aftercare<3
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.。.:*・゜゚・* *・゜゚・*:.。.。.:*・゜゚・* *・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・''・。.
The sky was gloomy, and the wind dragged all types of scrap as you stood in the middle of no man’s land while Keegan and you bickered back and forth like usual.
“You should have let me drive.” He growls at you as he throws you a condescending look.
“Your driving is awful! Every time you take the wheel, I get some sort of near-death experience!” You snap back, returning his energy.
“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be stuck here if it wasn’t because of your stupidity.” He says with a cocky smirk visible under his mask before both of you are interrupted.
“Alright, that’s enough!” Elias barks at both of you, clearly done with your antics. “I'm tired of this bullshit between you too!” He finishes inspecting the vehicle before sighing. “I’m sleeping in this thing….or what’s left of it. You two can go check that decrepit cabin over there; I don’t care where you dumbasses sleep. I don’t want to hear anything from you two!”Elias leers at both of you with irritation before speaking with an intimidating snarl. “You two better start getting along, or I’ll make your lives hell! Now get out of my sight; they’ll pick us up by the morning.” Elias walks away, leaving both of you in complete silence.
Keegan glares at you before he takes in a sharp breath and walks the other way.
You look around at the barren wasteland for a moment before you scoff and trail behind him into the little structure. He pushes the door, and the rusted hinges give away immediately.
“This is all your fault; I hope you are aware of that.” Keegan groans as you step into the cabin and set a little lamp on a nightstand.
You huff before speaking in a mocking tone. “Don’t blame me just because you have no self-control.”
“And you take things way too far,” Keegan snaps back. “You always think you’re right."
You noticed the passage of time reflected in the small house, and it makes you wonder where the past inhabitants could be or if they survived.
“I’m not full of myself, unlike you.” You say raising a brow.
"Oh yeah, and you're an angel?" Keegan says sarcastically. “All that flirting with the commander and Hesh, like you're all that.”
“That’s not flirting- ” You scoff offended, he’s clearly trying to get under your skin.
“Whatever you say, princess.” Keegan crosses his arms over his chest and scowls at you. “There's only one bed, and I’m definitely sleeping on it, so you better keep your distance.”
You look at him with disdain as you shake the sheets and prep the bed.
Keegan goes to the foot of the bed and takes his backpack off, throwing it onto a chair in the corner. He then plops down on the bed and puts his hands behind his head.
You sigh before you go to change into something you can sleep in. Since no one is supposed to be around here, you figured you'd get comfortable. “Unbelievable, this is so dumb. Elias could have let one of us sleep in the vehicle, and that way no one suffers more than necessary.” You mumble under your breath.
"Yeah, I agree with you for once. It's awful. He probably wants to make us miserable and get back at us…or he really thinks he can force us to get along." Keegan rolls onto his side, facing away from you but keeping a guarded eye. He takes off his gear and shirt and throws them on the chair too. “You know, if you would stop running your mouth for five seconds, we wouldn't hate each other so much.”
Keegan was the type of person to only speak when necessary, but for some reason he was always eager to piss you off.
“For someone so quiet, you really can’t help yourself around me, huh? I’m just defending myself from your little attacks.” You spat back as you finished putting on some shorts and a comfy top.
“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me, sweetheart.” He says in a mocking manner before chuckling with arrogance.
You roll your eyes with a sigh in response as you set your bag down before turning around. “………. don’t tell me you sleep shirtless.”
“Why? You don't like it?” Keegan chuckles lightly, then turns his upper body to face you. “You're one to talk; you aren’t wearing anything underneath that. I can tell.” Keegan lifts an eyebrow at you, smirking a little under the mask.
You cover yourself with your hands, embarrassed, as you look away to avoid meeting his icy eyes. “That’s because sleeping with a bra is uncomfortable!”
“And what about bras during the day time?” He teases. Keegan rolls over to face the other way. A small smirk plays at the corners of his mouth; he’s waiting for a reaction.
Your face contorts. “You little—I sometimes forget to put it back on, okay! Why are you even looking there in the first place?!”
Keegan laughs loudly and rolls over to look at you again. “Come on, you do it on purpose.” He sits up in bed and leans over so he’s eye-level with you. His eyebrow raises suggestively as he looks you up and down.
You throw the shirt you were wearing a second ago at his face to block his view. “I don’t jackass.” You say with irritation and embarrassment present in your tone.
“I bet you don't, princess.” Keegan chuckles once more. He lets the shirt hit his face with a stoic look before he rolls his eyes and pushes it away. Keegan stretches out across the bed, spreading out his arms and legs for a second before removing his mask. “Are you ready to sleep, or are you going to nag me all night long?”
“I’d like to torture you all night, but I need sleep too.” You say unamused as you hop on your side of the bed and turn off the lamp.
Keegan looks at you with a smirk. He watches you climb into bed for a moment before he finally turns back to face the other way and lays down.
"Good, I hope you have nightmares," he says as he closes his eyes and rolls over onto his stomach. Keegan doesn't speak or move again, but his breathing is somewhat shallow and rapid.
“How sweet of you~ ” You mock, rolling your eyes and hugging onto a pillow.
Keegan remains silent for several minutes until he finally groans and turns onto his back. He stretches like a cat, groaning all the while, and then he places a hand on the side of his head.
Keegan lifts his head and sits up to look at you, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares down at you with those piercing blue eyes of his.
You open an eye and try to ignore how good he looks right now, the moonlight coming through the window letting you see him perfectly. “What? You wanna fight?” You say in a mocking tone.
Keegan grins at you before kicking off the blankets and launching himself onto you. “Yeah, I do wanna fight, and I'll win, too.” The muscles on his arms and chest flex as he leans forward and tackles you to the bed to pin you down.
“Hey! Hmph!” You yelp in surprise as you try to fight back. Funnily enough, it’s not the first time you guys engage in play fighting out of spite, but this time he really caught you off guard.
“Give up” Keegan says, his voice low and teasing. He holds you below him, trapping you between his body and the bed. It's impossible to move. Keegan uses his hands to hold your arms down at your sides. He smirks and leans down closer to your face. “C'mon, surrender.”
You scoff before sticking out your tongue in defiance.
Keegan laughs and leans closer so that your faces are only a couple inches apart. He stares into your eyes deeply. “That's not going to help you; you are so childish.” He looks at you with a smirk. His eyes searching into yours. “What's the matter...can't handle me?” He mocks you as you struggle; you can feel his breath on your face.
Your cheeks grow hot as you glare at him. “You are a jerk!”
Keegan smiles and moves his face close enough so that your noses are almost touching. “I'm the jerk, huh?” He speaks with his husky voice as he stares you down. He holds that position for just a moment before he leans in and presses his lips against yours. He pulls you into a tight, passionate kiss.
Your eyes widen as you yelp softly.
Keegan continues to kiss you deeply, running his hands over your body. The feeling of your skin is intoxicating.
You feel yourself melting into him. His touch is unlike anything you've ever felt before.
Keegan breaks the kiss for a while but doesn't move away. Your mouth and his collide for a moment longer before he pulls away. His chest heaves with each breath.
You're both breathless.
You look up at him with doe eyes and slightly parted lips, speechless.
Keegan looks down at you with a mischievous smile. He runs a hand through his luscious hair before he speaks in a sultry tone. “You know, you're not as feisty as I thought. One kiss, and you turned into mush.”
You glower at him in response as you speak between your teeth. “You play so dirty.”
Keegan grins. “You can't tell me you don't like it," he says in a low whisper. "I can feel you trembling in excitement."
You look up at him coyly before looking away by turning your head to the side, embarrassed, and shutting your eyes in the process.
Keegan leans over and takes your chin, forcing you to look at him again. Those beautiful hunter eyes of his bore into yours. “Come on, look at me.”
He leans in towards your face again, and you see his eyes slowly close. Then your mouths come together again in another hot, heavy kiss. Keegan's hand reaches into the back of your hair as you moan softly. He grips at it and pulls you closer to his lips without inflicting any pain. Your tongues play together as Keegan takes control of the kiss and explores all over your mouth. He keeps his hold on you as he slowly pushes his knee more in between your tangled legs. He deepens the kiss even further, holding you close as his breath becomes raspy and he groans softly.
The sensation is overwhelming.
You place one of your hands on his shoulder as the other slithers its way up to be pressed up against his chest. You let little noises out, getting lost in it all as you no longer even remember why you were both arguing.
Keegan keeps kissing you for several more minutes before finally pulling back again. He looks at you, breathing somewhat heavily, before he speaks with a growl. “God, I want you. I can't wait another second." Keegan doesn't wait for a reply. He pulls you closer and rolls you over, so you get on all fours before he hovers on top of you.
You turn your head to look at him with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes.
Keegan lowers himself down onto you and pushes his body against yours, making your back arch and your chest get squished against the bed. He pins your arms down on the bed. Keegan can feel every inch of your soft body. He kisses down your neck and slowly starts working his way down as he holds your body tightly against his.
You groan slightly in response as he bites your neck abruptly. “D-dammit Keegan…”
Keegan kisses your bare shoulders and down the curve of your spine, making you shriver. He takes his time. Keegan grins at your protest, but he doesn't stop. He holds you tight against him as he slowly pulls your shirt upward, leaving your back exposed. He runs his hand lightly across your chest, making you moan softly. Keegan stops moving and keeps himself pressed against you. You can hear every breath he takes; his lips hover closely over your skin as he can feel you grow impatient. He then rests his head on your shoulder to speak softly beside your ear. “Just wait,” he whispers. “It's going to be worth it.” Keegan's hand moves down your body, and he grabs the waistband of your shorts. He starts to slowly pull them down your thighs, leaving them bunched around your knees and exposing your soft flesh. Keegan kisses up your bare back again as he playfully fondles your soft butt. He then proceeds to bite at the skin on your shoulder and then licks the spot with his tongue. You can feel him breathing against you as he continues kissing and biting your skin.
You turn your head again to get a better look at him.
Keegan leans down, and his mouth meets yours again, kissing you deeply.
You moan softly as you press your butt against him playfully, asking for more.
Keegan moves on top of you completely, his weight pressing down on your back. You can feel his excitement pressing against you.
He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him. His mouth moves back to your ear again, and he makes a soft sound. “Tell me what is it. What do you want? Tell me what you really want.” Keegan's voice is barely more than a whisper. His breath tickles your skin as you lie under him on the bed.
“I want you…” You say with a hint of desperation as you keep moving your hips to rub against him.
Keegan's breath catches in the back of his throat at your actions. His eyes dilate slightly before he presses his hips harder against you. He groans softly and kisses your neck again as he moves his hand to grab onto your breast. He starts to grind against you too, his hips pressing into yours.
You can feel a pool of arousal leaking from between your thighs as you can’t wait anymore.
Keegan sits back up on the bed, pulling his belt off, accompanied by a rustling sound, before throwing it away from him. His eyes flicker over your body, and his breathing quickens when he sees how wet you are. “Oh, would you look at that?” He says with amusement dripping off his sly tone. I could eat you up right now. He grins at you, his voice husky and full of desire. Keegan sees you trying to peek, so he flips you around so your back is against the bed before he throws your clothes to the side. He climbs between your legs. Your bare back is against the soft sheets. He leans down over you, his hands on either side of your body, with your legs spread open. His piercing gaze over your beautiful figure before meeting your eyes again.
The intensity of this moment unmistakably hangs in the air.
You bring your hands up to cover your chest shyly before biting into the nail of your thumb as your eyes trail down his body with curiosity. You also take the moment to carefully look at the tattoos on him.
Keegan glances at you, noticing the way you're looking at him. He smirks and runs his hand up your knee to your upper thigh. His fingers lightly glide across your bare skin. Keegan moves his hand towards your inner thigh as his eyes drop down to your soaking cunt. He slides his thumb as he presses onto your sensitive bud, agonizing slowly before he introduces two fingers together and gradually opens them teasingly as he takes a look at the dripping slick.
Your breath hitches as a result of his actions.
Keegan leans closer to you again, his body hovering over yours as he whispers lowly. "God, you're driving me insane.” He presses his lips onto yours hungrily.
You can feel the subtle way he toys with your sensitive clit as his other hand grabs onto your waist.
Keegan is breathing slowly and deeply. His hot breath brushes against your skin.
You can feel his fingertips making their way into you again with a squelch.
Keegan takes his sweet time touching you. You feel the warm and tight sensation of his fingers teasing your sweet spot. After a while, you are so close. It seems as if he is holding his breath and carefully studying you.
You yelp and tense up a little as you look at him with pleading eyes.
Then, suddenly, Keegan stops.
You whine out, frustrated at the loss of movement.
Keegan lifts himself up slightly and moves his fingers away from you and into his mouth, tasting your arousal with a breathy growl. He looks down at you and chuckles quietly before smiling. “So impatient. I guess I’m going to have to teach you how to wait…. I think you're more than ready.” He looks down at you. There's something in his eyes that you don't think you've ever seen before.
“It’s very late.” You mumble in your defense before being forced to shut up by him slowly pushing his aching cock into you.
He angles himself perfectly before his tongue slides into your mouth. Keegan presses into you until you're fully pinned with a hand holding your wrists over your head.
(“This asshole! I had a point.”) You think before your thoughts slowly fade away as you squirm and moan loudly into him.
Keegan keeps slowly moving into you; his movements slow and steady. It's almost as if he is savoring every single moment of this. As his tongue caresses yours, you feel his chest heaving, and your bodies are squished against each other. His hand is resting on your hip as the other goes to hold your chin up.
You close your eyes and give into the moment, allowing him to take over your body.
Keegan bottoms out and starts a steady but slow pace. His lips are still pressed against you as his tongue explores your mouth.
Keegan's other hand moves up your body, lightly caressing your skin in the way.
You have your eyes closed shut, and move your hands up to hold onto his shoulders with a muffled moan, digging your nails into them.
Keegan groans when you dig into his flesh as he kneads one of your breasts with a hand before rolling your sensitive perky nipple in between his fingers.
You can only sense him in this moment, his breath against your skin, the vibration of his groans, his touch. It's as if you're both drowning in your own intense need for one another.
He speeds up slightly, bringing his rhythm to the perfect pace. Your back arches beneath him, almost instinctively as you moan. Keegan kisses down your neck and moves his mouth down to your chest to suck on your other hard nipple. You can feel his hot breath as he continues kissing you, and his hand begins to make its way down your body.
You are quickly reduced to a moaning mess, and you tremble as your eyes start to tear up. Keegan chuckles when he hears the way in which you moan and then kisses your collarbone. His fingers meet your clit, and he quickly pinches it softly.
Keegan keeps kissing you deeply and relentlessly, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and his thumb rubs circles on your clit slowly.
You start to get very loud, which causes him to find a way to shush you just in case.
Keegan's other hand goes to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck and gently applying pressure. There's a certain intensity to it, but he's still tender with each touch. The way you are moaning and writhing below him is like a drug. Every sound you make sends a wave of pleasure throughout his body.
You wrap your legs around his waist, and it’s making him go crazy. Keegan's mouth leaves yours, and he starts to kiss down your chest. His tongue works every inch of the skin there. His hand releases the hold it has on your throat. He kisses from the center of your chest all the way down to your stomach. Keegan's breath is heavy, and he sounds almost as if he is in a daze. His fingers press into the skin of your hip, leaving marks, even though he is trying his best to be gentle.
The tears pool in your eyes as you look directly into his, too lost in pleasure.
Keegan looks down at you. Your hair is disheveled, and your lips are slightly red as he continues moving his hands all over your body. Every touch and every stroke of his fingers makes you shiver.
The look in Keegan's eyes is almost obsessive. He's drinking in every part of you.
“F-fuck.” You say overwhelmed by how full you feel, accompanied by a series of whimpers.
Keegan doesn't stop moving. His gaze is focused on your body as your tits bounce up and down.
You feel his warm breath on your skin as he bites your ear. He then leans down and kisses you deeply. You whine as your eyes roll back before they are shut tightly. You dig your nails into him hard enough to draw blood.
Keegan brings his hand up to hold you by your wrists again. Your arms rest on the bed, on top of your head, and your legs are still wrapped around him, squeezing him harder. He bites your shoulder softly in a playful way to get back at you, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers keep moving over your weak spots.
You pant heavily as you moan, completely dumbed down by this point.
Keegan presses his lips against your shoulder, where he bit you. Your body is still tightly pinned beneath him. Your skin under his touch is hot and sensitive by now. He moves one hand to your lips and lightly brushes them with his thumb. He notices your lips are trembling, and you can't get enough of his touch. Keegan looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. You feel as if you could lose yourself in those eyes right now.
You take his finger in between your lips and lewdly suck on it as he moves against your body. You can hear a low rumble in his throat as his breath quickens.
Keegan slowly starts to pick up the pace. His hand rests on your hip as the other softly tucks one of your nipples. His mouth meets yours again, his kiss growing more aggressive and he pushes more against you. His lips never leaving yours.
You squirm and moan loudly, feeling like you’ll lose your mind.
Keegan's kisses become more urgent and desperate.
You feel as if you're being drowned by stimulation.
Every touch, every kiss, and every breath coming from him is being picked up by you.
You can't think of anything else but him. You whine helplessly as you raise one of your hands and find a way to his, grabbing onto it tightly and interlocking your fingers with his. [I’m sorry this is so lewd] He growls and squeezes your hand in return. His mouth leaves yours, and he presses his lips against your neck before you feel his teeth just barely touching your skin.
You feel overwhelmed, as your senses are totally flooded.
Keegan's other hand still has a hold of your hip, his fingers pressing against it tightly.
You yelp and squeeze around him tighter, feeling like you are about to snap. “Hah! K-Keegan! I’m- “
Keegan chuckles as he presses his teeth harder onto your neck, holding you by your hip against him as he thrusts into you.
You can’t help it, and you quickly come undone with a whine, dragging him over the edge as well.
Keegan’s body jerks forward slightly as he lets out a breathy grunt and hot strings of cum spurt inside of you. “Goddammit”
You shake violently and wail out as he finishes riding his high with a couple of thrusts while your face contorts in pleasure.
His hand is still intertwined with yours tightly. Keegan exhales sharply as his body relaxes; his breathing is heavy and agitated. He gives you a quick peck on the forehead before slowly moving to sit up. He takes a really good look at your beautiful, fucked out form for a second before he gently wipes some of your tears away with his hand. His eyes seem so different and tender now. “You were so loud.” He mocks you with a smirk.
You pant heavily with a pouty face as you tremble slightly. “What? You t-think Elias could have heard?” You say breathlessly, almost giggling.
Keegan chuckles, his eyes calm, as he makes sure you are okay. He playfully rubs his thumb on your waist and moves his lips to meet yours yet again in a sweet, tender kiss before pulling back. “Good question. Hmmm~ I guess we'll find out when the sun is up. But for now, I think we should sleep. We're going on a mission soon, so we need our rest.” Keegan leans back again. He's using one arm to hold himself up, and the other arm is wrapping around your waist, his fingers slowly rubbing across your skin before he pulls out to scoop you up and roll onto his back.
You catch your breath as you melt into his arms comfortably before speaking softly in a playful tone. “I don’t think this is what Elias had in mind when he told us to get along.”
Keegan grins as you can feel his comforting heartbeat from there. “But in the end, I'd say we got along just fine. A little too much, maybe." He chuckles lowly.
He's patting your head tenderly and soothing you to sleep. Keegan is still pressed close to you, his chest rising and falling with every breath. His eyes slowly roam around the room for a moment, scanning it, before settling back down on your already sleeping form.
Eventually, he closes his eyes as well, and his body relaxes with his arms wrapped around you in a warm hug.
It’s really early in the morning, and he wakes up first. You were now facing down, nuzzling his chest.
Keegan opens his eyes and looks down at you, his lips curled up in a smirk. He caresses your hair with his hand before speaking with that husky voice of his. “Hey, sleepyhead.” Keegan rubs his thumb on your cheek gently to wake you up as he speaks to you softly. “You need to wake up soon. We gotta leave this place, remember?”
Your eyes slowly flutter open, and you look up at him with half-lidded eyes.
"Morning, darlin’. " He keeps rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Get up before Elias comes in here and sees you like this.” He mocks.
You groan softly, wanting to sleep a little more, but you end up slowly sitting up with your hair looking puffy as you try to keep your eyes open.
Keegan chuckles and gently taps your chin with his finger to keep you awake. He looks over at you as you sit up. Keegan is still lying down and still has his arm around you.
“We don't have much time. We should head out now before Elias comes in here and chews us out.”Keegan's eyes look over your body, and he sees the love marks over your bare shoulders and neck as you are partially wrapped by the sheets. “And also, you might want to put some clothes on.” He raised a brow.
You quickly grow embarrassed as you realize you are naked and try to cover yourself better.
Keegan hands you your bag with clothes and chuckles in a playful tone. “Don't worry, I've seen it all.” He then turns to get himself geared up and give you space.
You pout at him before sliding into your uniform and fixing your hair. After you hop out of bed to be met by your wobbly legs.
He's putting on his belt when you get up, and he shakes his head playfully once he sees you wobbling. “What’s all that about?” He raises a brow again.
“Nothing….” You say putting on your shoes shyly.
“Don't you give me that. You almost fell over a second ago.” He laughs and finishes putting on his gear.
“I just tripped over something.” You blatantly lie before tying your boots.
“Oh really? What did you trip over?” Keegan is just teasing you a bit as he finishes putting on his helmet and fixing his mask. He stands up in front of you, searching for his shoes.
“…..your shoe” You lie again as you stand up and try to stretch to ease the aching you are feeling.
He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Are you all good to walk?” He asks as he grabs your shoulder briefly.
“Of course, I just tripped on a shoe.” You say defensively as you stand up straight.
“A shoe, right…” Keegan raises a brow in curiosity, and his eyes glance downward. His gaze quickly darts back up to your face.
“You forgot your bra.” He smirks slightly under the mask.
You had forgotten to put your bra on since you were feeling so sleepy.
You turn away, embarrassed, before removing your shirt and putting the bra around you as you try to clasp it from behind. You were out of it. “Ugh, of course I did.” You mumble under your breath.
He laughs softly and moves behind you. “Let me help. There, much better.” He pats your shoulder playfully. “Now let's go before Elias thinks we murdered each other during the night.”
You nod, put your shirt back on, and grab your things before giving him a warm smile and stepping out into the wasteland.
Keegan is a few steps behind you as he puts his rifle in place, but he keeps looking over at you repeatedly to make sure that you aren't tripping for any reason.
You see Elias sitting by the broken vehicle as he barks orders into his mic.
Shortly after he is done, he looks up at both of you walking towards him. “Oh, great, you guys didn’t behead each other last night; this is progress; I was about to drag your asses in here.”
Keegan chuckles and throws you a playful side glance. “It was a close one, though,” he says with a smirk visible under his mask. Elias rolls his eyes before your ride arrives.
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btdemaru · 11 months
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Brat taming - sukuna
[Top!sukuna x Bottom!GN!reader]
note : sukuna has two cocks you can't tell me otherwise.
warning : monsterfucking, cockwarming, brat-taming, two big cocks, hair pulling, thigh spanking, slight choking, rough sukuna, slight blood, dacryphillia, manhandling, biting, curse words, bad language.
MINORS DNI!
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Sukuna was brutal, always so annoyingly possessive and scary, you don't even know why you fell for him in the first place but you did and it was too late to back away. Even if he was scary, at some moments he'll show a glimpse of softness towards you even if it's a small gesture for a mere second. He might not show his affection in words but he'll spoil you rotten.
But of course, you had to be such a brat towards him. For what? For fun. Knowing the reaction you'll get out of him but you did it anyway, it was risky- you were scared of the consequences that will come with your actions but that's the point. You had this 'brilliant' idea to talk- no flirt with yuji itadori. You saw that yuji was alone and took it as an opportunity to start your little plan. Coming up to him and sitting down next to yuji was easy, he's a friendly guy anyways.. "perhaps wanna come back to my room? I have a new movie we could watch~" though poor baby yuji didn't understand what you're trying to do, surely that dense head of his could at least take a hint.
Halfway through your sentences your vision went black for a split second, you were teleported into his hollow eerie domain, the Malevolent Shrine.
And infront of you is now a very very furious sukuna. Before you could even utter a word he grabs your chin, looking down at you as he got closer to your face "you're doing this on purpose aren't you? Pathetic shit." he spat, his two lower arms sneak in your pants as the two upper ones rip your shirt into pieces eager to play with your nipples, Sukuna wasted no time to rip your pants and boxers/panties apart leaving the cold air to brush against your naked figure. He quickly took his pants off leaving him only in his kimono, your eyes darted to two large erect cock. "sit." You knew you're in no place to disobey him further as you still care about your legs so you lined his cocks before slowly sitting and pushing it in.
Quiet. its so quiet..
You're now sitting in his lap, sukuna's two terrifyingly large cock buried deep in you. None of you shared a word only soft whimpers and shallow breathing can be heard, you've been sitting for fifteen minutes yet it feels like an hour or more, "move.. you're taking too long!" You spoke, trying to break the eerie silence between the two only for sukuna to grip your neck and pulls you closer to his face. "I'll move when you'll stop being such a fucking brat." He exclaimed, closing your airways until you smack his arms in attempt for sukuna to let you go. It was no doubt useless, you're nothing to this curse of a man. a tear rolled down your face before he lets go making you gasp for air. An hour has passed and you can't take it anymore "sukuna please..!" You plead. "be more specific, brat." He spoke before getting closer to your ear. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do." He teased. You plead and beg for him to finally let you move and fuck yourself onto his cocks, in which he did.
You move slowly, painfully slow. The king of curses wasn't know for his patience, he forcefully thrusted upwards hitting your prostate straight, a loud moan ripped from your throat as he continues to thrust up, his arms holding you still, using you like a mere fleshlight "fuck- ah! Slowdown!" Your words fell deaf in his ears.
Picking up his pace Sukuna brought your legs folding it onto your chest as he fucks you dumb, drool tears sweat were all over your body and face, you can't even form a simple word let alone a sentence, and it makes sukuna laugh. Oh how a brat like you can turn into such a messy slut for him.
Sukuna formed a mouth on his hands, latching it to your lips as his real mouth attacks your neck, his sharp fangs piercing into your skin, licking up all the blood he got from you savoring the taste. It hurt like hell, it felt like two giant needles are stabbing your neck but you're too deep in pleasure to even notice. Sukuna got up from his throne before throwing you on it and bending you over, thrusting back it as he pulls your hair up making your face closer to his, sharing a passionate kiss that lasted minutes before you feel one of his cock twitching after the other, sukuna chased after his high as is pace clearly sloppy with no rhythm and his grunts gets louder "cum for me- you fucking slut. C'mon cum on my cocks-" he slurred before finally filling you up to the brim with his thick white sticky cum making you release as well. "Fuck.. maybe that'll be a lesson for you." He said while pushing his hair back.
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undercoverpena · 4 months
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frankie, baby
frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist
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summary: “Well… we technically can’t touch each other inappropriately,” you begin, tracing your fingers on his black shirt, circles then squares, then triangles. “But, Will wasn’t specific about saying inappropriate things.”
warnings: explicit. 18+. smut. p in v. nsfw chat up lines. flirting. one slight spank. frankie undressing you. frankie being gorgeous, minor cock worship, christmas themes. reader wears a green dress, talks of lipstick - but nil else.
wordcount: 3.7k an: huge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this and ensuring words meant what i meant. to all my frankie-lovers, this one is for you. credit to this tiktok for the idea.
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It wasn’t that Frankie hated Christmas parties, he just found they weren’t his favourite.
Over the years of attending the Miller’s annual bash, he’d always found himself asked the same questions over, and over, again. They would always come at him in varying voices, accompanied by different expressions.
But they all had the same undertone: what’s next for you, Francisco? What’s your future like Francisco?
He’s sure he wouldn’t find it all so tedious if it were only once he had to deal with it.
However, it replays itself—almost like a rerun—when he visits his own family. The only difference is there’s more judgement, a higher pitched concern and intermittent Spanish.
This year, there was at least one noticeable change. A thing which spoke for itself: you.
Stepping out of the cab, you close your bag, fussing with the bottom of your green dress before you look over at him—eyes finding him.
He counts—a thing he does now. He does so until it appears. Having begun doing so without realising when the two of you made it official. He’d learnt that sometimes it comes by the count of five, but he loves it when it’s on the count of three.
Tonight, it’s two—two, measly seconds.
Eyes zoned in, Frankie watches it like a spectacle—like it’s a firework show just for him. His eyes trained as it blooms and stretches out, gazing as it brushes out over your cheeks. It hits your eyes, that smile which could stop his heart.
The one which makes him feel lucky; that burned a bonfire inside of him that no rain, wind or hail could ever extinguish.
“Keep looking at me like that, Morales, and we’ll break Will’s one, and only, rule.”
While the two of you would never describe yourself as animals, apparently the Miller brothers disagreed. Unbearable had been another descriptor used—
It’s not that we’re not happy for you both. But, around my family, could you calm it down?
Smirking, he holds his hand out to you. Something shifts back into place when your palm meets his and your fingers find their homes between his.
“I’m not the one with their legs out, querida.”
“I didn’t want to be underdressed!”
Snorting, he pauses at the steps to the front door. The music from inside thrumming, the hard-to-contain usual excitement is practically already trying to seep its way out into the night, trying to brush over the two of you, as he takes a second to admire you.
Because you looked radiant, indescribable. Yet, it isn’t even the half of you.
Fingers brushing your smile, he swallows, half thinking to himself if this is all a dream, he hopes he never wakes up. Not from this, from you.
“I tell you that you look good?”
Stepping closer, you press your lips to his. Bathing him in heaven and sweet scents, leaving a mark of you against his mouth.
“You did,” you whisper, breath dancing with his when you part before your thumb wipes over the stain your kiss left. “Now, let’s go in, so we can begin the countdown to getting home.”
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Foolishly, Frankie had expected you being on his arm would answer questions.
But if anything, it forced more to arise.
Some he could answer with a smile, a laugh, even a shrug, and others he found were ticking time bombs that no amount of sips of his beer would dilute. It was made worse when you’d slip away, tempted by a cocktail or a glass of bubbles, a kiss to his cheek as a parting gift while you left him to the hounds.
When he managed to make a break from the third when are you asking her to marry you, Frankie hides next to Ben—who is eyeing up the buffet table like it has all his answers and prayers layered over it.
“Hey man, having a good time?”
“Yeah, Benny. Great.”
Snorting, Ben grabs a piece of fruit. “Y’good?”
Twisting the cap off another bottle, he shoots a glare at Ben—hoping it’s readable, his anguish, how fucking uncomfortable he is. “Your Aunt just asked me when I’m getting married, and when I’m making her a great aunt.”
Laughing, he watches as his friend pops another piece of ham in his mouth. “And are you?”
“Fuck off, Ben.”
“Jus’ saying, maybe I wanna be an uncle while my knees are still good.”
Shoving him, Frankie leaves him laughing, moving through the guests, nodding and hugging those he had managed to avoid thus far. But his eyes are fixed on finding one thing—you. With each brush over a group, his heart sinks a little.
It only returns to its rightful place when he finds you in the corner, tucked away. Close to the overzealously decorated Christmas tree, positioned close to a set of bookcases he remembers hiding next to himself last year.
You have your back to the room, allowing him a moment to brush his gaze over your spine—over the way your dress skims down over your curves. Your attention is stolen, either genuinely interested in what you’re holding or busy pretending to be in a book covered in more dust than an abandoned building.
Sliding his arms around your waist, he feels you curl into him.
“Answer me this honestly. Do you think if I drank a smidge of bleach I’d still be able to fly with you to your family, or will I ruin Christmas?”
Laughing, he hooks his fingers together over your stomach, thumb brushing out over the silk—allowing himself to feel the softness that glides between his touch and your skin.
“That bad, huh?”
“Apparently I both have good skin and simultaneously could benefit from a skin regime—I found both out in the space of five minutes.”
Pulling a face, Frankie turns you, resting his head on yours as he feels your arms slide around him. Hearing you softly murmur which relative handed you both pieces of information.
“We could hide out in this corner all night? It’s a nice corner.”
“This where you hid last year?”
He says nothing, but the face he lets fall out says enough.
“We could hide or…” you say, an infliction to your tone.
One he doesn’t catch immediately, but dawns on him in the seconds that pass. More so, when he feels your eyes on him, burning, glaring.
“Or?”
Smirking, you bat your lashes—feigning innocence. A look he knows all too well means anything but angelic.
“Well… we technically can’t touch each other inappropriately,” you begin, tracing your fingers on his black shirt, circles then squares, then triangles. “But, Will wasn’t specific about saying inappropriate things.”
Leaning closer, Frankie narrows his eyes, pinching the inside of his cheek with his teeth.
“So, let’s see who can get away with saying the wildest, but publicly appropriate things.”
His mouth twists, watching your head tilt ever so slightly, lips remaining parted, waiting.
“Who wins?” he asks.
Tracing the edge of your upper lip with your tongue, you slowly begin to smirk—all wide-eyed, practically fucking shimmering.
“The person who calls an early cab home.”
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It thrums in him, the tension of when you’ll say something.
Your fingers are in his as the two of you join the others, finding a place next to Will—who is busy both telling and reenacting a story Frankie is already sure he told last time.
He’s also sure you know it. Having been sure it was one Will had told most chances he got. But the way you’re hanging on to every word, makes him question otherwise.
“Very on top of things, isn’t he?” you whisper, nodding your head to Will.
Pausing, Frankie bites his smile, brow raising as he watches you twirl your finger over the top of your glass. The distinct sound of Santa, Baby playing in the background, fading from the loudness to a simple hum as you adjust your dress in front of him. Letting him see a glimpse of your breasts—showing him how all that remains between him and your skin is one single, thin piece of silk.
Keeping his hand at his side, he watches you. Assessing. Trying to work out your direction, your ploy—taking a sip from his beer just as you begin to add:
“I like to be on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?”
He almost chokes. Heat flushing on his neck, burning up to his ears. Somehow able to bury the splutter, your face shifting into one of concern—but he sees the devilishness under it. Your eyes giving you away, even if your hand is patting his back, calling his name.
Moving closer, your lips almost brush his ear. “You like that one, Morales?”
Catching himself, he knocks the bottom of his bottle against your glass. “That’s a good one, querida. But, wait—are you an elevator, because I’d love to go down on you.”
It’s instant, the way your mouth falls open— eyes widening before he swears they twinkle.
“That was…”
Moving closer, he presses a kiss to your forehead, taking your empty glass from your hand. “Can’t wait to see you crack, baby.”
“Oh, it’s so on, Morales.”
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At one stage, between you whispering ‘is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?’ and him replying with ‘nice dress. Can I talk you out of it?’, Frankie had lost you to Will and an intense game of darts.
When he manages to pull himself free from an intense questioning from one of the smaller cousins on helicopters, he finds you in the kitchen—just tidying up some plates.
“Hey.”
Smiling, you slide the one in hand into the dishwasher. “Hey, handsome.”
“Why you in here alone, querida?”
Standing straight, you sigh, resting your palm on the counter as you look across at him. “Just… I’m not feeling myself.”
Placing his drink down, he moves around the counter. A wave of guilt crept up, wondering to himself how he’d missed it when he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you.
Placing his palms on your jaw, he slides his fingers up your cheeks—lifting your chin.
“Can I feel you instead?” you add.
He feels your smirk sliding up into your cheek—slowly shaking his head as you begin to bite your tongue, his nose scrunching.
Laughing, low, almost gruffly, he smiles. “You’re so bad.”
Nodding, you slide your arms around his neck. It’s second nature to move you, press your lower spine into the counter—press his hips to yours.
“How you gonna make me good, Morales?”
“Well, I’m not a dentist, but I bet I could give you a filling.”
Grinning, you tighten your arms around his neck, mouth ghosting over his. For a moment, it’s just the two of you. The room fades out, the party a distant memory and the music nothing but a soundtrack. His fingers fall, sliding down, knuckles brushing over the silk which sits over your breast, running over your nipple he feels harden, before sliding down. Moving, slowly trailing his way until his hand grasps your hips—hearing the soft gasp you let escape.
You make him so hard—make him desire and crave.
Make him want to slowly pull up the skirt of your dress and feel for himself too if you’re having the same effect. If you’re soaked, if the tops of your thighs are coated in want.
“Frankie,” you whine, all low, barely more than a whisper.
As his waist presses against you, survey you as your brows rise at the realisation of how hard he is inside his jeans—how hard he is for you. Eyes flashing, something shifting—no longer a game but a prize within reach—as you lift your chin, slotting your mouth over his.
It begins soft, gentle. But in a click it's desperate. The words, the insinuations—all of them—slamming into the two of you as you crawl your nails against his scalp, and tug on his curls. His own grip tightened on your hip, keeping you flush to him, letting him rock his hips ever so slightly, the friction helping, groaning into your open mouth.
“Want you,” you murmur.
“Yeah?” he pants, drawing a circle on your hip, feeling you urging to kiss him. “Call a cab, baby. Call one and I’ll make it worth it.”
You halt, pause.
Blinking a few times, before clarity washes over lust—drowning it, dragging it back out to sea, leaving the beach with only memories.
“You should know…”
Tracing his nose over yours, he bites your bottom lip. “What should I know?”
Rolling your lips, you stare at him—the biggest, fullest eyes he’s seen. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
He knows you move, but he doesn’t feel you do so.
Suddenly short-circuited. Left with only a fleeting recollection of the way your hip felt in his palm, the way your dress felt under the callouses and years of service. It isn’t until the door to the kitchen swings back, brushing against the frame, does he blink. Snapping out of it. Forcing him to realise what it is you just said.
“Fuck.”
Moving, he turns on his heel—palm flat on the wooden door as he pushes it open. His blood is thumping, jeans are uncomfortably tight as he scans the area.
All of the lines he’d found on his phone were seemingly pointless now. Hell, even the game seems pointless now. How close it was already, the fact all his nerves were sizzling, faint memories of how warm you were against him.
Especially now he knows he can pull you into an empty room, slide the fabric up which covers your body and find you bare.
The only thing he wants to do is surrender.
Is it say his goodbyes, call a cab, and have you at whichever home is closest. He just needs to find you. Doing another look, another scan. Moving through the room—spotting how the numbers have dwindled—before he finds you with Ben, no drink in hand, just a tight expression on your face.
“Hey—”
“I’ve called us a cab,” you announce, staring pointedly, the weakest wink sent only for him. His lips desperate to crawl up, clamber into his cheek. “Told Benny my headache was getting worse.”
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The two of you are barely through the door when he presses you flat against it, it clicks into place—his finger-twisting the lock, sealing the two of you inside, nothing and no one allowed to interrupt.
“Bedroom, now.”
You slip out of your shoes, fingers wrapping around his chin as you slant your mouth over his—and he’s able to taste the bubbles you enjoyed earlier, the faint remnants of mint from gum you likely chewed in haste. Then it’s gone.
Fingers around his wrist, dragging him past furniture and rooms until he’s being led into his own room, your touch falling from him—feet stepping back, moving closer to the bed.
“If I said you had a beautiful cock, would you put it inside me?” you ask.
Groaning, he closes the gap, and pulls you flush to him as his palm comes down on your ass—your gasp spreading into his mouth, before your groan replaces it, washing past to his throat, tongue licking past his teeth.
His mouth on yours, his shirt coming undone. Your nails scratch down his chest, his stomach, pausing right where his belt sits on his waist—
“Dress on, or off.”
He barely registers the question at first, until his fingers grasp the dress by your waist. He tortures you with it, the way he bunches it up, slowly pulling it up, letting the edge of it skate past your knees, up your thighs. Each inch unveiled meaning the cool air is kissing your skin, brushing over it, likely making even more of a mess between your pressed-together thighs.
Not halting his movement until he can see you weren’t lying earlier, and then he aids you in getting it over your head, unveiling you—a goddess, the hottest fucking thing his eyes have ever seen.
And, you’re all his.
“Sit down, baby,” he moans.
You do, slowly perching your rear on the end of the bed, spreading your legs—looking at him with the same wide eyes as you’d given him in the kitchen. But, he’s only focused on the space between your thighs. How you’re drenched. Practically desperate.
“You want me?”
He watches you nod, and he steps closer—forcing your thighs apart, spread by his thighs as he slowly removes his shirt—eyes gesturing down to his belt. And, you read his mind well. Tongue swiping over your lip as you begin to undo his belt, the melt clattering, his jeans loosening as you move to the button, then the zip—the noise cutting through the slow breaths the two of you keep trying to take.
Commanding your eyes up to his, he slowly kneels on the bed—one on either side as he watches you slide back, the two of you moving more into the middle, bodies almost touching, heat searing between the two of you. It only warms further when his lips find yours, when it’s needy, all tongue and whimpers.
His hips move with his movements and strokes, the air tinged with the littlest moans as he grabs a hold of his cock, dragging the head of it through your slick folds, making you plead, beg—smearing and skating it spitefully over your slick folds.
That’s when it meets his ears, those distinct words—ones he knows he’ll think up when the two of you are apart and he can’t sleep. When he’s rock hard and only imagining you being with him—I want to feel you tomorrow, Frankie.
It unlocks something. Floods him. He manages to take in a breath before he buries himself inside you, right to the hilt, going deep. He feels you stretch around his thickness, as he revels in your tightness, the way you gasp at the feel of him—fingers digging, scrunching them into his sheets. In awe of you, momentarily just watching you before he wrenches your back from his sheets, perching you on his thighs, needing to see you, needing to run his palms up your spine.
“You look beautiful taking me, querida?”
You moan as his hips snap, taking him so well, so perfectly—a thing he tells you, a rush of good girl, good querida taking me like this. And he expects a comment, a thing you bite back.
But it never arrives. Instead, it’s a barrage of chants, all yes, please, yes, painting the shitty room—giving the crumbling paint something to be disgusted at, other than its own despair. The metal legs of the bed squeal against the floor, the headboard hammering, and clattering, leaving a mess of years of repainting along the cheap flooring.
“More, Frankie. Please.”
His hand sliding down between your thighs, above where the two of you are joined, thumb finding your nerves, drawing circles—languid, slow. Tracing the letters of his first name against your throbbing clit—the sound of his cock fucking into you growing louder, sloppier.
"Love your cock, Frankie. Always feel so good inside me."
You're a mess, covered in a sheen of sweat and make-up smudged, but to him, you're still perfection. A realisation that almost nears him to the edge, to emptying himself inside of you and writing his name there too.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he grunts, teeth pinching your ear as your hand grips his wrist—thumb still swirling, the R and N being from your favourite from the way you moan, the way you clench around him, “Thought about this all night. Only fuckin’ thing that got me through it.”
He feels your nails dig down into his neck, mouth searing as it burns against yours, moan after moan coating him, letting him taste the sound of his name.
“Y’ruin me, Frankie—only one I ever want fucking me.”
It spurs him on, angling his hips, hitting the spot which makes your words slide into moans, all pleases and yeses, undoing you. It ripples out. Making your back arch into him, tightening up from your head to your toes, before it bursts. Erupts.
You clench all around him, tightening, squeezing him until his vision blurs and your name curls somewhere on his tongue, all set to be spat, spoken, even fucking whispered. Somehow able to swallow it when it unfurls through him, when it shoots up his spine and surges through every nerve and muscle.
The two of you collapsing against his mattress—both of you gasping, his heart hammering in desperation to rip out his chest and be with yours, as you turn in his grasp. Then, he feels your lips on his, burying three words against them, three words he says back, pressing them to your mouth, so he knows you have them.
Both relaxing, your ear coming to his chest, hand sliding out over his body.
“I liked our game,” you whisper.
“Me too.”
“Next time, we should make it more fun.”
Next time, he thinks, letting his eyes drift out to the drawer you never go in—the one stuffed with his underwear, and a box you no nothing about.
“Could get toys we need our phones for,” you continue, a mix of mischief and sleep adorned on your face.
Kissing your hairline, he sighs in contentment. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”
Because next year he’ll let you have whatever fun you want, as long as you’re his fiancé and not his girlfriend.
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an: think sundays are now feral-frankie-sundays with jo...
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celesteleoves · 11 days
Text
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“YOU CAN LAUGH?”
RYOMEN SUKUNA X reader
summary: in which, sukuna rarely shows his emotions but you caught him laughing, much to his dismay.
warnings: swearing, mentions of killing (jokes made by sukuna), fluff, A LOADDDD OF DIALOGUE!!. ooc sukuna… this was not proofread.
-
“was that a laugh?” you stared at sukuna in shock, eyes wide with disbelief as the man beside you rolls his eyes.
“no, i don’t know what you are talking about.”
“you just did! ryomen, i can still see a smile on your face right now.”
he turns his head away from the tv infront of you two that blasted some hallmark movie that you two lazily put on, just to make fun of it. it was mostly you cracking jokes, sukuna calling you stupid, and you laughing at your own jokes.
until now you noticed you weren’t the only one who laughed at your jokes, you swear sukuna laughed! he can deny it all he wants but a chuckle did in fact leave his mouth.
truth be told, he never shows any happy emotions, he is always stoic or saying a remark that will leave everyone running away from him in a second.
“no. i never laugh around you, you are not that amusing.”
“don’t try and deny it ryomen, i see your eyes sparkle when you find something amusing.”
“you are incredibly delusional.”
“no- hey! you’re smiling!”
“you must be hallucinating.”
a small smile was present for a split second on sukuna’s face before he masked it with a grimace and a retort back to your comments.
“you are imagining things, y/n.”
“i saw that hint of a smirk, you can not fool me.”
“my face is incapable of such emotions, you must be tired.”
you turned in your seat to squint your eyes at him, he won’t ever admit it! if he says he laughed, it’ll hurt his pride. now, you just have to pester him and hope he laughs again.
“well, sukuna, your face needs some training because it definitely just betrayed you right now,”
“fine. i might’ve been a tad bit amused. don’t ever get used to it though.”
“too late. i’m gonna do everything in my power to make you laugh so hard you won’t be able to breathe!”
“you know what else will make it hard to breathe?”
“what?”
“me suffocating you.”
“i’d like that-”
“no.”
you grinned at him as he scowled you, man, he can be quite moody sometimes. now you’re starting to believe he can’t laugh or be nice EVER. you like a little challenge, though.
“i can make you laugh so hard you’ll snort.”
“oh yeah? snort? that’s different. go ahead, try.” he challenged you, a barely visible smirk present on his face that you ALMOST missed.
“oh, i will. just wait. don’t say i didn’t warn you when you snort!” you pause and noticed the barely visible hint of amusement on his face, “see! i can see you beginning to smile already.”
“i find you amusing but that does not mean anything.”
“oh, really sukuna? to me, it means the whole universe! you’re beautiful eyes that gleam, your smile, your perfect pearly whites, the deep chortle you let out rambunctiously; it’s the key to my heart!” you exaggerate your words, adding unnecessary points that even have you cringing at your words as you try to ignite a reaction out of him.
“trying to charm me, huh? laying it on thick aren’t you.”
“i have a way with words, you can’t resist my allure and attractiveness that spills from them.”
he stares at you in confusion and amusement, what are you even doing?
“don’t flatter yourself too much, brat. it takes a while for me to be swayed.”
“i’m aware of your stubbornness, trust me. i won’t stop though, it’s entertaining watching you struggle to hold your breathe trying not to laugh.”
“you like watching me suffocate? that’s sadistic.”
“look who’s talking now.”
“alright. you cannot get me to laugh, if you can’t tell already. give up now.”
“no! never, not until i’ve made you laugh and gained your love.”
“my love?- whatever, nice try, flirt. your charm isn’t working.”
you roll your eyes and push his shoulder teasingly, a smile already on your face as you turn away from sukuna to grab a drink.
little do you know, the man beside you is grinning secretly, letting out a quiet laugh at your previous conversation.
he also enjoyed the compliments, he won’t tell you that though.
-
a/n: this got cut short :( i was going to make it longer but it was 2:14 am when i made this. anyways, i hope it was alright and this was just a tester so i could try and see how i liked writing sukunas character!
SEND REQUESTS! 🤍
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luveline · 25 days
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I can definitely see a steddie x reader where reader is just enjoying their banter bc she thinks they’re being adorable and Steve is annoyed and Eddie is just being cheeky
Reader would definitely be just smitten about it, in all honesty-
“You’re not doing it right, Steve.” 
“Am too.” 
“You are not, babe.” 
Eddie sounds so genuine, like he truly cares that Steve’s not doing it right, but you can tell he’s messing with him. It’s in his smile. He sees you noticing him and puts a finger over his lips. 
“You owe me,” you mouth. 
“What did I do wrong?” Steve asks, agitated already. 
“You have to press the plastic down,” Eddie says, stepping behind Steve where your boyfriend tries to grate a head of broccoli using the food processor. “This bit. Babe–”
“Stop with the babe, you’re patronising me.” 
“That is not true.” Eddie takes him by the hip, reaching around him to shove the hand guard down onto Steve’s broccoli. 
“You’re seriously patronising me.” 
Eddie talks close to Steve’s ear. “Now why would I do that, Steve?” 
Steve smiles but pushes him away. “Get off of me, I can do it. Go irritate Y/N.” 
“I’m just trying to help,” Eddie says. 
“You’re not, you’re trying to make me mad.” 
“Is it working?” 
Eddie dives away from his shove and ends up hanging on you instead, arms slotting over your shoulders, warm and relaxed as he turns his flirting to you. “What’s the damage?” 
“He figured you out pretty quickly. No charge this time.” 
“How generous.” He sounds as warm as he feels, leaning in to draw a line on your cheek with his nose. “Think he’ll take the bait again?” 
“Aw, don’t,” you laugh, though really you want him to. Steve is a good looking guy and it’s worse when he’s playing mad, he gets loud and his brows draw together, darkening the honeyed brown of his eyes to a more shadowy colour that you adore. “He’s just trying to make dinner for us. He’s so nice.” 
“I’ll make it up to him,” he promises, kissing your cheek. 
Eddie once again approaches Steve, this time with a softer disposition, like he might be giving him a kiss. Steve lets Eddie touch his arm, lets Eddie wraps his fingers around his wrist and press a cheek to the top of his shoulder. 
“Don’t try and say sorry now,” Steve warns. Then, after a few seconds, he wraps an arm behind Eddie's shoulder to rub his arm roughly. It’s fond and annoyed at once. 
“I’m just trying to help.” 
“I know how to use the blender.” 
They sound in love. It makes you laugh, one because it’s nice to see, you love them too, and two because Eddie’s messing him around again. 
Steve looks back at you suspiciously. 
“I know you know how to use it, I’m just trying to help,” Eddie says. 
“Are you?” 
“Sometimes you get kind of stubborn.” He encourages Steve’s face back to his with a kind hand. Steve sticks his tongue in his cheek as Eddie tucks a lock of stray hair behind his ear. “You know, on account of you being extremely stubborn,” Eddie whispers. 
Steve rolls his eyes and shrugs away from him. “I’m used to being right. You know, on account of you being an idiot.” 
“Don’t act like that.” 
Steve lets Eddie link their pinky fingers together, even as they continue to argue about the blender. Feeling a little left out, you slide off of your barstool at the island and sidle up on Steve’s other side. 
“What are you doing?” you ask. “Broccoli and cheese?” 
“Uh-huh. Don’t know why I bother,” Steve side eyes Eddie, the one out of the three of you who loves broccoli and cheese soup more than breathing. “He’s making it more difficult than it’s worth.” 
“It’s gonna be done at bed time if you keep taking so long.” 
“Don’t start on me too.,” Steve says, though he leans in for a kiss soon after. 
Eddie tries to high five you behind his shoulders. You grab his hand and wrap it around Steve’s shoulders, who then tries to sweep you both in for a hug, assuming an Eddie style apology, and regardless of all the teasing he’s endured. 
“I don’t wanna cook anymore,” Steve mumbles. 
Eddie feels sorry, then, and tries to kiss his neck. 
You pinch him. “Let’s just order takeout.” 
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lxclerc · 2 years
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑
SUMMARY: daniel will never allow himself to love you but you’ll never let yourself not love him. REQUESTED: nope WARNING: significant age gap (reader is 20, daniel is 27), suggestive language but no smut, christian horner but i actually made him bearable, forbidden love, angst  PAIRING: rbr!daniel ricciardo x horner!reader WORD COUNT: 7.5k
NOTE: you guys don’t understand, this has been in my drafts for months and i’ve been struggling to finish it for so long. DISCLAIMER: this is completely inspired by @yungbludz dr3 fic called "too young" so the idea and concept belongs to her!
please don't be a ghost reader bc i am starved for validation!
— next part
MASTERLIST
if you wanted me then you really should have showed.
Daniel knew he shouldn’t have continued it. The first moment he laid his eyes on you and you flashed him that smile, he knew he was fucked. You were young and you’ve always looked at him with those adoring eyes. It was addicting, Daniel quickly realized. You and everything about you was addicting to him. 
Daniel also knew that it was his job to stay away, to make sure there’s distance between the two of you. He’s the older one after all. You have just turned 20 and he’s venturing into his 30s. Daniel thought he could treat you like any other, not fall for you the way he knows he is, but it’s impossible to not return your smiles and even more impossible to stay away. 
And god, it wasn’t like you made it easy for him. You aren’t stupid nor are you naive, but you’re armed with your youthful recklessness, pushing and pushing at him till he breaks. The way you run into his arms every other race, celebrating him no matter the result. The way your touch lingers just a second too long to be appropriate or how you angle your body fully towards him whenever you talk. The two of you were dancing about just how far you can go and how far Daniel would allow you. 
You’re stubborn though, your recklessness and the excitement getting the best of you. You’re determined to make Daniel break one way or another, determined to get what you want. 
Entering the red bull motorhome, no one pays you any mind. They’re used to your presence, following your father around paddock to paddock and so they pay you no mind as you pass by Max’s driver’s room on the way to Daniel’s. You don’t bother knocking, already knowing he’s alone. 
Daniel was in the middle of zipping down his race suit, turning around to find you quietly slipping into his room, a small smile on your face as you wrap your arms around his torso, your face against his back. 
Daniel released a shaky breath at your sudden closeness, shutting his eyes in an attempt to calm his nerves. It’s his job, he reminds himself. His job to keep you away. His job to not selfishly keep you to himself and so he gently removes your arms, turning to your pouting face. 
“Be a good girl,” he all but muttered, not realizing that those words only make you want to push more. 
“You did great,” you say instead, allowing him to step away from you. Everyone knows about your little crush on Daniel. Or at least that’s what they think it is, a phase, a school girl crush. You’re relentless, flirting and teasing, hand on his thigh, chin on his shoulder, a chaste kiss on his cheek. Always pushing till Daniel can feel himself slowly breaking, what’s left of his resistance chipping away. 
Oftentimes when you tease him, Daniel does his best to laugh it away. “Maybe in ten years, kiddo.” he’d say, loving the way your lips pout at him. 
But despite himself and what he should be doing, Daniel teases you too. He teases you by placing his hand too low on your back, his lips brushing against your ear when he’s whispering something. His touch is always firm on your skin, holding you back, keeping you in place. Daniel thinks he’s doing the noble cause of keeping you an arm’s length away but his body demands your presence, unable to fully push you away. 
He could have told you to stop. He knows this and so do you. But he doesn’t because Daniel may be acting all self righteous but the thought of you pouring all your affection and attention to someone else was unbearable for him. It’s selfish he knows but you’re so intoxicating, so addicting. He can’t bear losing you but his guilty conscience can’t bear having you either. 
He throws a smile at you, your adoring eyes making his heart flutter. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 
You situate yourself on the couch, watching as he continues zipping down his race suit. This is why you don’t stop because you know he wants you too. He wants you as much as you want him. You watch his back muscles flex as he removes his fireproofs off, slipping on a fresh shirt. You stay because he lets you. You’re here because he lets you be here. How can anyone ever say that Daniel Ricciardo isn’t as besotted to you as you are to him?
You smirk lightly as he faces you. “Maybe we can celebrate it over dinner.”
Your tradition of asking him out and his tradition of rejecting you had him laughing as he sat down on the sofa next to you, legs spread out as he placed a hand on your knee. “Maybe when you’re old enough, angel, I’ll go on a date with you.” 
You pout lightly, shifting so you’re fully facing him. A smudge of lipstick on your lower lip and your eyes big as you stared at him. You grab his hand from your knee, entwining your fingers together as you bring his hand to your lips, planting a soft kiss on his knuckle, your lips soft against his skin. Daniel inhaled a deep breath, swallowing as he watched you. How could he ever think he can stay away? 
“Sweetheart,” he mutters, a warning. You’re pushing too far, touching him far too gently. 
You grinned, schooling your face into a perfect vision of innocence if only you’re able to rid that mischievous glint in your eyes that Daniel adores so much. He rarely ever calls you by your name, always a variation of a pet name or another either in that soft voice as if you’re a doll he’s terrified of breaking or the quiet warning voice letting you know that you’re pushing too far. Your favorite though, is when he’s drunk and far too intoxicated to even care about right from wrong, his arm wrapping themselves around your waist as he pulls you flush against his side, fingers gently grazing your face as he actually says your name. His voice is husky and always full of lust and adoration.
“God, Y/N,” he’d breathe against your ear, lips grazing your earlobe. “You’re going to kill me someday.” 
“Daniel,” you mocked but nevertheless you return his hand on your thigh and if you placed it just a little bit higher, no one has any proof. Everyone thinks your infatuation with Daniel is just a phase, a young woman being enamored by an older man, everyone has heard that story before. Even your father never took it seriously and by their ignorance, they never noticed the way he looks at you and the way he lets you touch him. Daniel doesn’t touch you, at least not enough and not in the way you want him too. The hand on your thigh or knee or back always remains firmly planted there but Daniel does let you touch him. “I’ve never heard of such an uptight winner.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “Someone has to keep you in line.” 
It may be Daniel’s job to keep you away but he never did say he’s good at it. He doesn’t stop you as you shift closer to him, your hand placed on the crook where his jaw meets his neck as your lips gently pressed against the side of his lips. Close enough to know that you taste like strawberry chapstick and the coffee you drank earlier. Close enough to make him want more. 
Maybe if everyone knew how the two of you acted when you’re alone then they’d be more concerned. All they’ve ever seen is Daniel shooting you down and rejecting you with a joke. They’ve never seen the way he watches your lips, hand squeezing your thigh as you hold him in your palms. 
The truth is that Daniel has given you full control of him and his body. He may warn you and he may stop you sometimes but he’s a selfish man. He wants you so desperately, like a man starved or a moth dangerously drawn to the flame. If you asked nicely enough with that sweet voice of yours, Daniel would grant you anything. 
You pull away before he can say anything, grinning as he groans. You grab his hand, pulling him up with you. The way he towers over you gives you a different kind of satisfaction. Knowing he can do whatever he wants with you has you hooked. “Come on, everyone’s waiting for you.”
“You’re cruel,” he tells you, his hand lightly pushing your hair back. “Absolutely cruel.”
You go on your tiptoes, placing your hand on his chest as Daniel slightly leaned down. Pressing a feathery kiss on his neck, you whispered against his skin. “Maybe if you tell me what you want.”
Daniel stiffened, his hold on you turning from gentle to stiff. “I shouldn’t want what I want.”
“That’s not my problem then.” With that, you pull away from his touch, throwing his door open as you all but skipped out of his drivers room, claiming victory. There’s nothing more exhilarating for you than getting a reaction out of him. Nothing gives you more satisfaction than watching him lose his grip on that resistance he’s stubbornly clutching. 
You appear on your father’s side, a wide grin on your face that had Christian narrowing his eyes at you. “Were you bothering Daniel again?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Y/N,” your father said in that tone that you know so well. It’s his not quite disappointed but still disapproving tone. He’s used it when trying to tell you off or discipline you. “You have to get over your little crush.”
Your grin only widens as you meet Daniel’s frustrated eyes across the room. He’s trying hard not to seem bothered, usual infectious smile on his face as he tries to avoid your gaze or the tightness in his pants. You only planted a chaste kiss on Christian’s cheek, not saying anything else before you’re out of the motorhome. 
If only they knew. 
but we were something, don’t you think so?
When you arrived at the party, half the team was already drunk out of their minds. Max saw you first, a smile pulling at the boy’s lips as he embraced you. Others may disagree due to their unwarranted hatred for him but you find Max to be incredibly perceptive and thus a great friend. He knew there was something real between you and Daniel the first time he saw the two of you act around each other. He’s incredibly sensitive to the people around him and not at all like the cold, detached driver the media portrays him as.
“I’m surprised you’re not as drunk as the rest of them,” you told him with a smile. 
“I think Daniel is going to kill me with his mind,” Max jokes as his arm stays around you, the aussie across the room with the mechanics and engineers, dark eyes trained on you. 
Daniel raised his glass up as your eyes met, the redness in his face told you he’s already halfway drunk. You feel a flutter of excitement at his invitation. You loved Daniel most like this, a little drunk but not too drunk, enough to let go of all of his reservations when it came to keeping you at an arm’s length. 
“I’ll see you later,” you tell Max with a smile, squeezing his hand before you slip out of his hold. Max playfully rolls his eyes, already knowing where you’re going but you pay him no mind, making your way across the room to where Daniel stood. 
Daniel, already tipsy like the rest of the bar, immediately laid his claim as his arm sneaked around you, pulling you to his chest disguise as a greeting hug, perhaps not looking much different from the one you and Max had just shared if it isn’t for his cold lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. 
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, pulling away from you but keeping his hand situated on the small of your back. He has to touch you. He knows he shouldn’t but with you looking like that, it’s practically impossible for him not to.
With that same mischievous glint in your eyes, you lightly smirk at him. “Just beautiful?”
“I’d say ravishing but I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that,” he admits, taking a swig of his drink to which he offers to you. 
You practically preen under his half drunk confession, happy that the little white dress you put on did as it’s supposed to. “Considering we’re in Austin, I don’t think you should be offering me a drink, Mr. Ricciardo.”
“Right. Forgot you’re a little baby,” he says, hand slipping a little lower. There’s a certain mockery in his voice but perhaps not aimed at you but rather on him, being reminded once again just how young you are. 
But of course, you being you, took it as a challenge, grabbing the drink out of his hand, chugging it all down in one go. You try hard not to let the bitter taste show on your face, having the urge to spit it all out but instead, you grinned smugly at him, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist as the dark club lighting gives you a false sense of confidence. “What was that?” 
Daniel practically groans at your sudden closeness, your scent overwhelming his senses and his spinning mind but he doesn’t push you away. It doesn’t even enter his mind, morality and logic being thrown out the window after a few glasses of alcohol. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” 
And god, the thoughts running through his mind as you stare up at him like that with big adoring eyes and pouty lips that looks so fucking kissable is enough to get him locked up. “Let’s make it worth it then.”
With that, you grab a bottle of what you assume to be vodka from the table the members of the team are occupying and then his hand with your free hand, pulling him away from the crowd and into the hallway leading to the toilets. The club, a high end one known for its VIP guests, thankfully has clean toilets as you pull Daniel inside, not even caring what it must look like. 
“I know I’m drunk but I’m not drunk enough to fuck you in a bathroom,” he tells you immediately. 
You roll your eyes as you shut the door behind you, making sure to lock it. Usually, Daniel makes a point not to use such vulgar words with you and the sound of his breathy voice along with the visualization he presented in your mind was enough to cause a shiver. 
The thought of you with your dress bunched up your waist, his hands all over your skin, in places you’ve been dying for him to touch, had your cheeks turning a bright red, lust mixed with the alcohol you gulped down fogging your mind. 
Daniel must be thinking of the same thing as he buries his hands deep into his pocket, taking a step back from you – which isn’t much considering the tight space you’re in. The thought of you on your knees for him, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as you look up at him with those eyes was enough to have him straining his jeans. His usual light eyes looked a shade darker as he studied your features, as if making a point to put space between the two of you in a way to prevent himself from touching you. 
You took your time opening the bottle, using it as a way to stoll as you avoided his eyes. “Don’t worry, my intentions doesn’t involve seducing you into fucking me in a club bathroom.”
“Could have fooled me, baby.” Daniel all but scoffs from your words but says nothing else as you lean against the sink, taking a sip of the vodka that immediately had your face scrunching in disgust before you offer it to him.
“It’s unfair that I don’t get to drink at all, don’t you think so?” You tease lightly, a weak excuse but you know Daniel would accept it rather than speak your real reasons out loud. 
Speaking it out loud is dangerous. Speaking it out loud is admitting it to himself along with the fact that he hadn’t exactly stopped you as you pulled him away, his own hand gripping yours minutes ago as you navigate your way through the throng of people. 
So instead, he accepts the vodka and takes his own swig, much smoother than you had. “I can’t believe I’m aiding underage drinking.” 
You grin at him again. You both know he would do anything you ask without asking them. He’s weak, puny with your touch and how being with you makes him feel as though he’s going 250 miles per hour. There’s a certain adrenaline that comes with you, a certain thrill of knowing he shouldn’t be there, that he shouldn’t be letting you touch him.
He is but a man after all and god knows he’s a man fueled with desire – desire for your lips, your body, for you. How is he meant to say no when you’re looking at him like that? 
You reach forward, pulling him by his shirt. You’ve always been a lightweight and he’s drunk enough that his hands found themselves on your hips. “You know, if you’re never going to go out with me, you should kiss me at least once. Maybe I’ll move on after that.”
Daniel raised a teasing eyebrow. The thought of you moving on from him didn’t exactly give him pleasant feelings but he plays it off. “Is that so?”
“Hmm,” you agree, innocently nodding your head along. “Since you won’t fuck me.” 
His finger pushed back your hair back, exposing your neck for him to plant feathery kisses on, his lips causing you to stiffen. You hadn’t actually thought he’d indulge, thinking he’s already used to your suggestive teasing at this point but Daniel must be drunker than you thought as his hold on your hip tightened, pushing you against his body. 
“Such a fucking tease,” he muttered, tongue swiping along the sensitive skin on your neck. “I’d ruin every other boy for you if I fuck you, baby, and that just doesn’t seem very fair.”
Your breath is shaky as your hand slipped from under his shirt, feeling the defined lines of his abs. You half expect him to push you away as he had before but Daniel’s far too gone to care, your touch going straight into his most sensitive nerves.
“Could you actually?” You tried to sound smug but your voice came out shaky as Daniel’s hand slipped down your bare thigh. 
Daniel placed his forehead against yours, his conscience desperately fighting to hold on to his logic but it’s like the taste of your skin had him going crazy and he can’t help but wonder if the taste of you is as sweet as you look. 
“Not here,” he says with a breathy groan, his want eventually winning over his logic. “Wanna be stone cold sober for that.” 
It’s your turn to groan, so incredibly wet you can feel it pooling on your underwear. “Now who’s the tease?” 
You practically let out a grunt of protest as he moves away from you, returning the space between the two of you as he once again buried his hands deep into his pockets. You roll your eyes at his resistance, taking another swig of vodka.
“Behave,” he tells you lowly. 
You throw your hand up in innocence, begrudgingly accepting that you’ll have no choice but to stay on your side of the small bathroom. 
if my wishes came true, it would have been you.
For the longest time, you had been content with whatever the two of you had. You were both addicted to the thrill of practically sneaking around, knowing glances and lingering touches. You knew it wouldn’t be possible. Daniel would never allow himself to fully fall for you but you can’t help but want it anyway. 
Your life continued on as it is with you teasing him every chance you got, him rejecting you with a joke to try and pull the pout of your lips. Everyone would laugh – mechanics, engineers, your father and you’d pretend to sulk before a smile eventually paints your face. 
You like the game. You like being the only one knowing the meaning of his stares. You like that when you’re alone, he can’t handle not touching you. You like the challenge and the continuous pushing till one of you breaks. You’ve always been patient, a little cunning, biding your time as you kept your eyes on the prize. You don’t mind waiting. You don’t mind the half confessions and the hesitant, regretful touches. 
During the summer break, you hadn’t hesitated to text Daniel every chance you got, even calling him at night when you know your parents and your siblings are asleep. You would have worried about bothering him if only his reply didn't immediately come and your calls barely had time to ring. 
You know he likes talking to you too. He would have told you otherwise. He keeps up with your flirting and teasing, listening as you talk about your day. Sometimes when you say you miss him, he says it back with that tone in his voice – helpless, as though missing you renders him defenseless. 
The race after the summer break, Daniel hadn’t hesitated to hug you just as tight as you did him despite the people around you. Everyone but Max didn’t think much of it, passing it off as a friendly hug between two friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while. 
That same night, after the high of the race, you’re waiting in the car with him as everyone packs up. You’re waiting for Max and your father, scrolling through your phone as Daniel draws circles on your knee.
“I have something to tell,” he says after a while, making you look up at him. 
It’s dark inside the car but you can still see Daniel’s profile as he faced you. “Yeah?”
“I haven’t told anyone yet. Not even Christian,” he starts, the sentence immediately had you tensing up. Rumors about Daniel’s future had been circulating around all month. His contract would be ending soon and every team’s desperate to have him. You always thought that was all it was though; rumors. You knew there had been tension between who’s first driver and who’s second but you always thought Daniel would renew his contract. 
“Don’t,” you say immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach at the mere thought of it. 
Daniel’s hand on your knee stops, offering you a smile when he sees the sadness in your eyes. “We’ll still see each other. It’s not like I’m going away. We’ll still see each other around the Paddock.” 
Tears suddenly blurred your vision. Daniel would be leaving Red Bull and you along with it. “It won’t be the same.”
Daniel was a little taken aback by your tears. He’s never seen you cry before and he quickly decides that he doesn’t like the sight. “We’ll still be frie–”
“Don’t you dare say friends,” you warn. “We aren’t just friends, Daniel, and you’re lying if you say otherwise.”
His movements halted, the silent fury in your voice impossible to miss. The two of you never actually spoke of whatever you are. All of it remains unspoken, a silent agreement and he never thought you’d bring it up so easily. “Y/N–”
But at that exact moment, the car door opened, cutting him off as you immediately pushed his hand away, trying your best to discreetly wipe your tears. Your father was focused on his phone, oblivious to the tension he had just walked into but Max, who obviously saw how Daniel was touching you, could see your tear stained cheeks. 
He tries to get your attention to silently ask you if you were okay, but you stubbornly stare down at your phone, ignoring Daniel’s worried glances being thrown at you. 
“Y/N,” Christian says, finally looking up from his own phone to you. By then your tears have dried and the darkness in the car hides your red eyes. “Your mother was asking if you’re coming home. I already told her that you’re staying till next week–”
“No,” you cut him off, your voice a little shaky. If Daniel hadn’t spent every night thinking about you, he wouldn’t have noticed it either. “I want to go home.” 
You kept your eyes forward despite Daniel’s stare at the side of your head. 
Your father’s eyebrow creased. “I thought you said you wanted to stay till Monza?” 
“I changed my mind,” you say. “I’d like to go home. As soon as possible please.” 
Christian stared at your face. You might think he didn’t notice but he is your father. He knows something, something that made you immediately want to get away and if you want to leave then he wouldn’t stop you. He nods finally, “alright. I can have a flight fixed for you later. I’ll let your mum know.” 
You force a smile on your face, still completely ignoring Daniel’s stare. “Thanks, dad.” 
Throughout the night, you ignore Daniel. You don’t answer his texts or calls nor open the door for him. Perhaps it’s childish but the thought of him leaving you hurt much more than you wanted to admit. It felt like a betrayal. You always believed there was something more between the two of you, something unspoken and unsaid. Sure, you liked to play but you genuinely did believe it was something real. It feels as though he was abandoning you, choosing to run rather than face whatever’s been brewing between the two of you for months. 
He’s going to leave you and you’re starting to realize that maybe you are young and naive like he always implied you were. Maybe everything was just your imagination and he feels nothing for you at all. Maybe you’re just a stupid teenager to him, playing you on his palm.
But that doesn’t sound right either. Daniel would never. Even if he doesn’t share your feelings, he would never do that to anyone, much less you. 
Eventually though, he stops knocking on your door and your phone chimes with another text saying he’ll give you space, reminding you that you know where he is when you’re willing to talk again. And like the previous messages before that, you ignore it. Instead, you pack up your things and head straight to the airport. 
As you watch the scenery change till the view of home comes around, you feel as though you’ve just got your heart broken, once again feeling like a teenager after your first breakup with your first boyfriend. But somehow it hurts more.
The next few days aren’t much different. You ignore Daniel’s messages and calls, throwing yourself into spending as much time with your little siblings as possible. During your time away from the paddocks and from him, the ache in your chest doesn’t subside but you do manage to put your childishness away, your logic returning to you. 
At first, you stubbornly held on to your belief that he’s abandoning you, easier to paint him the bad guy to give yourself the justification of being angry at him. He says you can remain friends and that you’d still see each other around the paddock, still spend time together, but you knew it would be different. Your schedules wouldn’t be the same. You wouldn’t have any reason to follow him around throughout the day. You would lose him, spend much less time with him. You’d no longer have little moments in his drivers room or loud laughs in the plane. 
It would be different – the kind of different that you don’t like but despite it, you know your actions are unjustified and childish. Max is a great driver and he’s meant to do great things. It’s obvious that red bull is investing more time on him and you know that Daniel doesn’t deserve that. Daniel doesn’t deserve to settle with being second to Max. He was doing it for his career and you’re making it about you
And so despite your aching heart and the sinking fear in your stomach that you’d lose what little of Daniel he gives you, you eventually come to the conclusion that you owe him an apology. He doesn’t deserve to be ignored by you when he’s only doing what’s best for him and his career. 
So after two weeks of ignoring him, you decide to put away your pride and call him back. However, anyone who knows you knows it’s your ego that drives you. You’re as competitive and as arrogant as your father. You don’t like being told no or admitting your mistakes. Wasn’t that why you’re still chasing Daniel? 
And so you spend the entire day making excuses after excuses – whether it be playing with your sister in the pool or taking your brother to the park. You made excuses and scenarios that would keep you away from your phone. 
Though as you open twitter, you realize maybe it’s for the better. The words before you are glaring and piercing accompanied with a picture that makes you want to throw your phone against the wall. The account that posted it is an F1 gossip account, one that you followed months before mostly as a joke after a particularly hilarious fake rumor about Max. You absolutely regret not unfollowing it now though as the photo that greeted you is one of Daniel, wearing one of his party shirts and looking a little drunk as he exits what appears to be a club, a woman whose face you can’t see properly is behind him, their hands entwined and their heads bowed. 
“Red Bull driver Daniel Ricciardo seen leaving a club holding hands with a mystery woman.” The caption cruelly said, making you want to vomit as your chest suddenly felt heavier. 
That night, you locked yourself in your room. This was worse than him leaving Red Bull. This is worse than any high school heartbreak you’ve been through. You were right after all. You are just a child to him. He played you so well. And like a naive idiot, you fell right for it. 
You were wrong. Daniel is that kind of person. He feels nothing for you. There was never anything real between the two of you. You had imagined everything, so desperate for him that you’ve fooled yourself into thinking that he might feel the same. 
At the end of the day, no one can be blamed but you. Your own stubbornness to let him go eventually being the cause of your heartbreak. 
Max calls you. You know he knows and he knows that you know. He leaves you a bunch of messages as well. Eventually though, you realize he’s just being a good friend checking on you and so you send him a text assuring him you’re okay. Your mother calls you for dinner, you claim you're not hungry, not even opening the door for her. An hour later, she calls for you again, mentioning you hadn’t had lunch. You assure her you’re okay. Your father texts you, asking if you’re fine as your mother let him know that you aren’t eating. You tell him you’re just tired. Two hours later, your mother sends in your little sister, your known weakness. You eventually give in, unable to resist her adorable toddler face as you accept a sandwich. 
Daniel calls you. He texts you too. He spams all of your social media. Far too tired, you shut off your phone, placing it screen down on your bedside table as you cry the night away.
A week passes and little by little, your sadness turns to anger. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he’s leaving or he doesn’t want you back. The only thing that matters is to get even. After you read your siblings a bedtime story, you open your phone for the first time in a week, ignoring the multitude of notifications coming in, nearly all from Daniel, and dial your father’s number. 
You tell him you miss formula 1. You ask if you can join for the next few races. Not having heard from his eldest for an entire week, he’s more than happy to have everything fixed for you and the next day, you’re on a plane to Belgium. 
You arrive on a Friday morning and despite your body craving sleep, you hop into the shower, making a point to perfect your makeup and curl your hair to perfection. You wear a white flowy, backless dress that barely reaches your thigh – casual enough to not have anyone question you but revealing enough to turn heads. 
You’re a woman scorned with a mission in mind. If Daniel doesn’t want you, well then you’re just gonna have to show him what he’s missing. 
When you step into the Red Bull Motorhome, it’s half an hour before quali. Immediately, Daniel who’s squatting in a corner with headphones on, turns to you, his eyes slightly widening as it meets yours. You look like you walked out of a daydream and Daniel can feel his heart mending and breaking even more at the sight of you. 
The past month without you has been complete hell. Every after race, he always expects to find you sneaking into his drivers room only to be disappointed each time. He never thought how much you’re integrated into his day till he had to adjust without you in it. His hand craves to touch you, his arms craves to hold you. Your fading scent in his clothes haunt him with each day that passes.
Now though, you’re back and Daniel swears you’re a devil sent from his very own personal hell to torment him. But he never was good at ignoring temptation as he pulled himself up, making a beeline towards you. Your presence, your scent, you overwhelm him as he stands in front of you, his hands itching to reach forward and pull you towards his chest.
“Y/N,” he starts, voice breathy as though he can’t quite believe that it’s you. He’s gotten so used to imagining you in order to cope with missing you that actually having you so close again feels like a fever dream. 
“Good luck out there,” you say and the sound of your voice after so many weeks is enough to cause him shivers. You casually pat his shoulder as you push yourself past him.
Daniel is frozen in place. He expected you to scoff, frown, pout. He expected you to glare at him and maybe even scream. He expected anger because he knows it’s what he deserves but he feels his heart break a little as you offer him a smile – not like your usual ones that he adores, but rather a polite, detached smile lacking both emotion and sincerity. You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger, someone who doesn’t matter, a presence you’re only tolerating. 
This is worse than anger, he decides. Anger and fury he can take and maybe he can even match but your cold indifference he knows he will never be able to handle. 
He watched as you walked towards Max, that usual smile you’ve reprieved from him now on your face as you throw your arms around the dutchman. He watches as Max’s hand settles on the exposed skin of your back. You’re punishing him. And maybe a part of him believes that he deserves it. You should have punished him long before he let it come to this, but still, he despises the sinking feeling in his stomach. 
but it would have been fun if you would have been the one.
Daniel is slowly but surely losing his mind. He’s a mess and it’s all your fault. The sight of you with your tiny dresses and perfectly done makeup walking around in the paddock as you smile at everyone but him is cruel. 
But the sight of you in some new other man’s arms is worse. A mechanic or an engineer, an intern or a trainer. You entertain everyone that gives you attention, letting them touch you and stand close to you as long as Daniel can see. It’s driving him insane. You refuse to talk to him, not even giving him a chance to start a conversation. You even refuse to look at him and if Daniel isn’t completely at his wits ends, he would have acknowledged how much your actions hurt. He misses looking into your eyes. He misses your scent and your smiles. He misses your jokes and your laughs. He misses everything about you but instead he’s stuck watching you from afar. 
Eventually though, you’re unable to play your game forever and Daniel is unable to hold himself back much longer. Justifications that this is the best for you no longer means much to him as he stared at you from across the club — another goddamn club. 
It’s your 21st birthday celebration and Daniel is sure that if he hadn’t been part of the team, you wouldn’t have been forced to invite him. It’s not like his presence makes much difference though considering you haven’t looked at his general direction the moment he arrived hours ago. Instead, he’s left by himself, watching the way your hair bounces as you jump up and down, a careless smile on your face and your laugh often echoing around the club. 
Daniel thought you looked sinfully beautiful, some guy’s arms around you as the two of you jumped to the beat. 
He also thought that you’re a goddamn pain in the ass, his resolve slowly slipping away as he watched you. You’re doing it on purpose, he’s sure. Taunting and teasing, pride and ego and the need to get even. Truly, he knows you too well.   
As it turns out though, it’s you who breaks first. You hadn’t meant to, far too drunk to understand anything apart from the fact that you missed him. 
Daniel turned around for a moment, having decided that if he’s going to watch you and wallow in jealousy the entire night then he might as well get drunk. He may not be the best at keeping you away but he is good at staying away, determined to follow your lead if it meant ending whatever the two of you had for your own good. 
Perhaps this is the universe giving him a chance to correct his mistakes, to actually put you first over his own selfish desire to keep you for himself. 
And if it meant you hating him then Daniel is going to force himself to live with it. 
But still, the sight of you suddenly gone from the corner of the club you’ve been occupying the entire night and suddenly he couldn’t help the sudden worry sinking in his stomach. He waits for a few minutes, hoping you just went to the bathroom or something of the sorts but when ten minutes passes and you’re still not back, Daniel’s worry becomes far too much to ignore as he pushes himself off the bar stool, fighting his way through the throng of people. 
He goes to Max first, asking the dutchman where you were to which the younger driver replied with a small shrug, far too drunk to even properly process his words. Daniel rolled his eyes, all but marching into the women’s bathroom as he checked for you only to find it completely empty, seemingly only increasing his worry. 
It’s a few minutes later after practically turning the entire club upside down that he finally finds you, keys of his rental car in his hand with the purpose of going to your hotel to see if you’d made it home safely.
But he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you sitting on the pavement, head against your knees and shivering. You look small and vulnerable and he can’t help the way his heart breaks.
“Y/N!” He calls, jogging towards you. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” 
You look up, eyes squinted as he kneeled before you, hand instinctively going on your shoulder as he assessed your figure for any sort of injury or explanation. 
“I’m fine,” you muttered, voice small and hoarse. Earlier you were full of life as you drank the night away, determined to show Daniel what he lost but now your body feels heavy and all you want to do is cry. 
Daniel stared at you and the defeat in your eyes. Heaving a sigh, he shrugs off his jacket and places it around your shoulder. He knew that he should probably take you to your hotel now but you looked so lost and terrified that he can’t phantom the thought of leaving your side. 
And so he stalls. He stalls by sitting next to you instead, making sure there’s space between the two of you. 
And for a moment, there’s nothing but silence. The loud music from the club doesn’t reach you nor does the chatter. All you can hear is the way your heart breaks once again so close after so many weeks. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and let him comfort you. You want to let him fix everything and let you naively hope.
But too many words are left unsaid and too much heartache has been caused. You regret it all now; your petty revenge plan and walking out on him when he told you he was moving. You regret ignoring his calls and seeing that photo of him with a girl. You regret the months spent before that falling for him believing you had any control of yourself, believing that you’d easily pull yourself up if you fell. 
And you understand now too. You understand now why Daniel has always held back, why he never truly allowed himself to love you. It’s because of this. He never wants you to feel this. He was trying to spare you from having to experience this kind of heartbreak once you realized nothing will ever come out between the two of you. 
Daniel has always been longing. He’s always been lust and desire and hope. You never thought he could be pain too. 
“You’re allowed to love me, you know,” you say, barely a whisper. “Please love me.”
It takes Daniel a few moments to answer, feeling his heart seemingly getting heavier in his chest as your voice breaks. He never wanted to see you so broken, especially not because of him. 
“Loving you was never the problem,” he finally says, his voice just as quiet as if he’s telling a secret to the winds. “Loving you too much was.”
“You can’t love someone too much,” you say, your tone becoming defensive as you desperately clutch onto straws of hope that maybe the two of you could work out. “You just love me.” 
And Daniel finally looks at you, meeting your eyes for the first time in weeks. “I do. I do love you. I love you so much that I’m not stealing your youth from you. I love you so much that I refuse to take advantage of you.”
You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes as all of your will shattered. You couldn’t help the way you flung yourself at him as you sobbed into his shoulder. Daniel’s arms around you are instinctive, holding you close to his chest as if he could hold you together as you break apart. 
And he’ll let go of you now. He took you to your hotel room and kissed your forehead goodbye. He let you keep his jacket as he removed his arms from around you. He wiped your tears as his own fell. It was a goodbye, an ending. 
Daniel loves you. He loves you with his entire soul. And that’s precisely the problem. He loved you so much he’d let you go.
“Maybe in a few years,” you all but plead as you clutch at his shirt, knowing that letting go of him now might mean forever. “When I’m old enough, you can love me again.” 
He smiled. As if he’d ever stop loving you. “In a few years then.” 
He used to believe there were only two types of love; the kind you’d die for and the kind you’d kill for but god, he’d live for you. 
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