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#will beat you with his tiny fists
riseatlantisss · 8 months
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Careful, he bites
Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.
morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink
I love him a completely normal amount
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You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.
“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.
Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.
Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.
“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”
Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.
You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 
“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”
“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.
Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.
“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  
“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  
His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  
​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.
He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 
Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.
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chososlilprincess · 4 months
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last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.
Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.
he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.
he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.
“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.
“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.
he raises his shoulders.
“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.
“Leiri,” he shrugs.
“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.
he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”
He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.
Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.
when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.
you turn around, “Choso?”
his heart skips a beat. he nods.
“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?
“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”
And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.
“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.
You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.
When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.
“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,
“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.
You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.
you both get quiet for a moment.
“how big is your bed?”
“Queen size,”
“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”
youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.
And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.
“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.
you smile and nod, “okay,”
Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.
He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.
he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.
When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.
“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.
you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.
“is it because of what yuji told me?”
his brain goes quiet. “what?”
“that you…that you like me?”
fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-
you stand and walk to him.
and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.
And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.
You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.
When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.
“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.
“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”
“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.
your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.
“oh…uh okay,”
fuck. yes.
he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.
he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,
“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.
you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.
“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”
And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.
He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.
He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.
You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.
he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.
you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.
After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.
“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.
He pulls away.
His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.
He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.
“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.
You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.
but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.
He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.
“oh my god did you…”
he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.
“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.
“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.
you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.
hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY
now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.
taglist:
@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover
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yanderenightmare · 4 months
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Bakugou Katsuki x darling
TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, light bullying
part 2
gn reader
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Just thinking about how Alpha Beta Omega classes were always the worst. How the teacher would speak about an Alpha's strength and charisma, a Beta's sense of loyalty, and, of course, all of an Omega's weaknesses. 
It didn’t help that you were the only Omega in school. It also didn’t help that your class featured the only Alpha in school too.
All your life, it’s been a myriad of bullying. Katsuki would be at the helm, all the Betas behind him, eagerly following his every move – then you – trod over in the process. 
“You’re an Omega. You know that means you’re stupid, right?” He’d laugh – his canines gleaming in his grin.
“And weak – Katsuki, don’t forget weak!” His friends would add, hyping him up – making his smile ever sharper.
“Yeah! – stupid, weak, slow, and tiny.” You’d be pushed to the dirt, shadowed by his form, gleaming with pride, blocking out the sun. “Heh- sounds like something that belongs beneath a boot.”
All those classes, all those lessons. It’s not really the teacher’s fault. She’d tried using the most unbiased language she could. She’d only been stating facts – but still… couldn’t they have waited until all of you were a little older to tell everyone all the reasons you were different from them?
Granted. The lessons progressed into different territory when you got older. Talking about pheromones and instincts and mating and breeding – how Omega’s fall prey to something called ruts and heats – and how vulnerable they are when they’re caught in it. 
You were burning with embarrassment in your seat – feeling feverish from the toll of it – knowing how all this new information was going to be like fuel to fire – how Katsuki was going to use it for all it was worth.
You dared glance over at him – sitting by the window – he had an elbow propped on the desk and his head resting in the palm it supported. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention – his face turned away, looking outside instead. You couldn’t tell whether he was listening. You hoped he wasn’t.
But if you’d looked extra close, you’d see the beat red blush on his ear and cheeks.
To your pleasant surprise, Bakugou didn't approach you at all after that. You thought for sure he’d mock you, but it seemed that maybe… he’d grown out of it, perhaps? Either way, you were happy to think he’d forgotten all about you.
If only you knew he was on a mission to ignore you. You hadn’t noticed, too humiliated by the things being said about the nature of Omegas to have listened to what the teacher said about Alphas – and all their strange possessive habits – their need to mark their mate with bites and scent and-
He shuddered.
It’s a complete surprise. He can’t believe all these years he’s wanted you like that. But ever since you were kids, he’s been imprinting on you – chasing you, biting you, coveting you. It’s so embarrassing he can’t believe it. Is this really the reason you piss him off so much?
He knows it is – now; that one look at you has him blushing and his pants tight in the crotch. Fuck – do you even know? Have you known all along?
No… you’re acting like nothing’s amiss. Chatting up extras with an oblivious smile on your face – acting like you don’t belong to him.
How’s he going to keep you in check when you’re going to different schools by next term? How’s he gonna keep others away from you? Shit- what if there are other alphas at the school you’re going to? What if-
Fuck! His chest is pounding so hard and fast it hurts. He’s going to lose you…
You’re trembling – on the verge of tears – when he drags you off behind the school on graduation day.
His face was in his normal scowl.
He hasn’t bothered you all year – why, what-
“You’re gonna wear this at your new school, or you’re not gonna go.” He mutters – his fist shoving a ball of black fabric into your stomach – not hard, but enough to make you flinch. “Don’t wash it. Bring it back to me, and I’ll give you a new one.”
Your brows furrow.
“Every week. Or else I’ll hunt you down.”
He takes a step closer – you yelp as your back hits the wall, then whimper when his nose brushes along your hairline – his breaths hot.
“This’ll let every extra know you already belong to me.”
When he walks away, back in a slouch and hands shoved down his pant pockets – you unravel the mess of black in your hands – revealing a skull-print plastered on a large hoodie.
It smells like Kachan.
part 2
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mysicklove · 6 months
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summary: Sukuna tries to teach Yuuji self-defense, but of course, he happens to forget how helpless the toddler is.
cw: mentions of death/kidnapping, reader gets called helpless
wc: 1.4k
a/n: i love them so much. its so fun to write this au!!
big brother au masterlist
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When you walk into the living room, you can’t help but smile. Truly, was it a rarity to see Sukuna and Yuuji getting along nicely. Of course, Yuuji was always sweet, but Sukuna was a brat and found that hanging out with a four-year-old was not really his cup of tea. Or at least, that’s what he proclaims to you.
Yuuji throws a punch at his brother’s hand, brows furrowing in concentration. Sukuna sits on the floor, cross-legged, and in front of Yuuji, who was standing at his full height. The older sighs, “Well, that was pathetic. Harder.”
The boy nods, obviously trying to hold back a smile. He wanted to seem just as serious as Sukuna did, but it was hard for the toddler due to how smiley he always seemed to be. But he lets out a tiny huff and brings his fists up to his face. Then, he makes a little “Hii-ya!” noise and slams his fist into Sukuna’s open palm.
“Okay, this ain’t working. Fuck, how are we of the same bloodline? I was not this weak,” Sukuna complains to himself, pulling his hands down. 
You roll your eyes and step into the room. “Maybe because he is a four-year-old. Don’t think it’s his job to be strong,” You say, and Sukuna’s eyes flicker to you. A smile pulls at his lips, and the man begins to stand up from the floor to greet you. Yuuji beats him to it though, letting a high-pitched squeal in excitement before running over to you.
You grin at the noise, watching the boy waddle over to you with bright eyes. You crouch down to his level and greet him, ruffling his hair. Then you pinch at his cheeks, ignoring the whine of complaint from Yuuji. “You are way too cute to fight! Huh, no fighting for you. You just gotta stay this small forever!” You coo, peppering kisses to the boy’s cheeks and forehead. 
The boy lets out a fit of giggles and a “Noooo! Wanna be big like Kuna!”
You shake your head, a fake pout on your face. “But Sukuna isn’t cute at all,” You half-heartedly complain, sparing a glance at your lover.
He walks up to the two of you and picks up Yuuji by the back of his hood, causing the kid to squirm in the air. Sukuna pays no mind to it, instead looking toward you, who is standing back up. “Don’t lie,” He scolds, and you raise your eyebrows, “I am adorable.”
You chuckle at him, rolling your eyes, and he in return presses a quick kiss to your lips. His brother begins to whine in complaint, causing the older to roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, quit whining. I’ll put you down in a second, little pest, but you need actually to put in some effort to fight me.”
“Okay!” Yuuji exclaims, and Sukuna sighs. Yuuji was so agreeable. When Sukuna was that age, he was supposedly a brat who argued with everyone, or at least that is what he had heard. Yuuji was strangely different than him. He didn’t know if he minded it or not.
Sukuna puts the boy down and sits again on the floor. He glances at you, who is taking a seat on the couch. Your eyes seem to read, play nice. It makes Sukuna want to roll his eyes, but the kid distracts him again, his tiny hands placed on the knees of Sukuna’s sweatpants while he grins up at his brother. The little beast had no concept of personal space, and the older of the two swears he can feel his brother practically breathing on him.
Sukuna pushes the boy off, sending him falling on his backside. “Sukuna,” You warn, but he ignores you. Yuuji only frowns and gets back up again, climbing back over to the other.
“Pretend im a kidnapper,” Sukuna demands, straightening his back and moving closer, taunting the small boy. “I am a very bad man who is going to take you home with me and lock you in my–”
“Sukuna!” You interrupt before Yuuji could hear his brother’s unneeded explanation. Yuuji seemed to stare owlishly at his brother, a little nervous but mostly confused about what he was talking about.
The man grins at you and shrugs his shoulders. But he abides to your wish with a scoff. “...Do bad things to you,” He weakly finishes. “Now, defend yourself!” 
Yuuji’s hands go up into his mouth, tiny fingers playing with his lips, and he shakes his head with a giggle. “But big brother will protect me!”
Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, and you let out a small laugh. “I’m dead.” Yuuji’s face visibly falls. “The kidnapper killed me because you were too weak to defend yourself and save me. Now look, Y/N is all alone and helpless because of you.”
Your mouth opens in shock at the bluntness of it all. Yuujis eyes are wide, and he goes silent for a second. Then, his mouthline begins to wobble, and his eyes begin to water. “Kuna gone?”
Sukuna begins to backtrack, not wanting to deal with his brother’s tears. He stumbles toward the child, eyes wide. “It’s a hypothet–”
Yuuji’s scream sends you scrambling to your feet and over to the pair immediately. You grab Yuuji by the waste and swing him around, a huge, forced smile on your face. “And boom!” The force of it all startles the small boy, and he pauses his cries for a moment with owlish eyes while you continue to swing him around. “Y/N comes in and saves the day! And guess what, Sukuna was just sleeping!”
You place Yuuji on your side and help wipe his tears away. Only about two or three fell before you grabbed him, but still, his eyes seemed to be slightly puffy. The boy continues to sniffle, hands rubbing at his eyes. “Just sleeping?”
Before you could answer, Sukuna tears the boy from your arms. He holds him up in front of him by both of Yuuji’s underarms, causing the boy to dangle in the air. “I’m offended that you would think I would die so easily, brat.”
A smile begins to crawl up Yuuji’s face, but he shakes his head, and his voice holds a whine to it.  “Don’t. Don’t like it.”
Sukuna sighs before placing the boy on his hip. Yuuji seems to find comfort there, burying his head into his brother’s shirt. It was rare to be held by Sukuna, and Yuuji obviously wanted to soak up all the time he has up there. “Yeah, I don’t think I would like being dead either. Luckily, your brother is the strongest, so you won’t have to worry bout that, yeah?”
Yuuji nods into his brother’s side, grinning and possibly wiping snot onto Sukuna. You take this time also to add your say in the matter. “And I’m not helpless.” You glance at the man who was just remembering what he said in the moment.
“C’mon, maybe just a little?” He teases, and you step closer to the pair, fighting back a smile. But before you could retort another teasing bite, the boy interjects his opinion.
“Nuh-uh! Y/N saved us. You sleeping, Kuna!”
You fake gasp in realization of his words, and Yuuji’s eyes light up. “Oh my, you are so right, Yuuji! Don’t you think he is the helpless one?” You coax, and Yuuji seems to lean toward you at your excited tone.
He nods his head rapidly, not really knowing what he is agreeing to but just trying to mimic your actions. “Kuna helpless!”
Sukuna rolls his eyes at the two of you and pinches the boy’s cheek, looking down at his brother. “Says the one who had a whole breakdown over the word–”
“Sukuna.”
Sukuna takes a deep breath and glances at you and Yuuji’s big dark eyes. He shakes his head in defeat, “Yeah, guess I am, ain’t I?”
You crack a smile, and Yuuji squeals in delight, digging his tiny hands into his brother’s shirt. Sukuna ruffles the boy’s hair.
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pucksandpower · 15 days
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Don’t Touch Her
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out
Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character
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You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.
“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”
You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”
“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.
While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.
Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.
You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.
Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.
You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.
“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”
The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.
“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.
“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.
“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.
The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.
Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.
“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.
“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.
As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.
“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”
You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.
Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.
Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”
You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”
Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.
“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.
After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.
“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”
You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.
***
Beeping.
Hushed voices.
The astringent scent of disinfectant.
You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.
Lando’s face, streaked with tears.
Dancing bodies.
Pulsing lights.
The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.
With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.
“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”
You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.
“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.
Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”
Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.
“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”
He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.
“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”
Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.
“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”
He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.
After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.
“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.
You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”
His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.
When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.
“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.
You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.
“I love you too,” you breathe.
He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.
When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.
“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”
You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”
He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”
Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.
“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.
Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”
You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.
“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”
There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.
But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.
He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.
***
A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.
When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.
Lando notices your change in demeanor.
“What is it, love?”
“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”
You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”
You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.
“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”
You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”
“Did I what?”
“Have something to do with this?”
Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”
“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”
He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”
You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”
“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”
You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”
Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”
“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”
He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”
You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”
Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”
Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”
Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”
His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.
“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”
Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.
“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.
You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”
Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”
Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.
Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.
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rafesaddiction · 7 months
Text
Hole Practice (or: Golf Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You want to learn how to golf better. Rafe teaches you a different kind of lesson. Rafe's pov
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, sorta toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking, rough sex, fingering, anal (first time), oral (rafe receiving), p in v, cream pie, degrading (reader is called whore by rafe), daddy kink, mean!rafe, bratty!reader, dom!rafe
Word count: 4.3k
“Hey, ain't that your girl, Rafe?”
“What?” Rafe put down the bottle of water he was drinking from and looked at Topper, then his gaze wandered to where Topper was pointing at.
“Over there. The one that is holding up everyone at hole 9.”
“Fucking hell,” Rafe grumbled under his breath when he spotted you. Several hundred yards away, there you stood with a golf club in hand, bending down to place the ball on the ground.
“She got a terrible swing but a real nice ass, real nice.” Kelce snickered and Rafe's head spun round, glaring at him.
Kelce defensively lifted his hands and slowly walked backwards. “Hey dude, chill. I'm just saying those shorts suit her nicely, just paying compliments. Respectfully.”
Rafe tossed the water bottle away, clenching his fists, stomping forward, every muscle in his body tensed up. He was frowning as he felt hot rage coursing through his veins. Rafe was about to beat the living shit out of one of his best friends when a sound made him stop and turn your way again. The wind had carried the sound of your laughter over to him. And Rafe watched you giggle and joke around with some guy, your caddie from the looks of it.
Rafe's hands balled into fists as he watched the two of you talk. That guy had put down the golf bag he was carrying for you and stepped closer. Stepped very close. Too close. He stood behind you, directly behind you, with your ass only covered by those ridiculously tiny shorts pressing against his crotch as his arms wrapped around you, his hands on yours, holding the golf club.
Rafe let out an angry scream that wasn't even a real curse and ran over to the golf cart, got in and started driving over the hilly course towards you.
“Yeah, man, take the fucking cart, so we have to walk!” Topper yelled behind Rafe, but Rafe didn't even bother to turn around. “Fucking unbelievable,” were the last words he heard from Topper, and Kelce's snickering in response. Rafe's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles showing white on his right hand, his other hand coverd by his golf glove.
He drove at full speed, which wasn't that fast with this damn golf cart, but at least faster than running. Racing over the greens, he didn't pay attention whether he was interrupting other people's games. His gaze was fixed on you and that fucking caddie that was practically dry humping you on the golf course.
The cart came to a halt close to you, Rafe jumped off, took a club from the bag at the back and stormed towards you and the caddie, raising the club, fuming with rage.
You and the caddie turned, looking at Rafe stunned and shocked. While you opened your mouth to say something to Rafe, the caddie muttered a curse, his eyes widened as he saw Rafe with the golf club swinging at him. The guy quickly pushed you out of the way, so you fell on the ground, landing on the grass, while he ran, ran as fast as he could with a yelling Rafe chasing him. And Rafe would've gotten him, would have beaten him to death, if it wasn't for your whining noises that made him stop and turn, lower his golf club and walk back to you.
Rafe was towering you, casting his long shadow over you, as you were sitting on the ground, rubbing your ass on which you obviously had fallen, looking up at your tall boyfriend with large eyes.
“I'm hurt,” you mouthed and sniffled.
Rafe grunted, reached down and picked you up. With so much vigor that you practically crashed against his chest. Bracing yourself, your hands touched Rafe's heaving chest, felt those tense muscles underneath the fabric of his expensive polo shirt. You looked up at him with big eyes. He clenched his jaws and his large hands gripped your hips as he held you close. He was still fuming with rage.
“What the hell were you doing?”
You lowered your head, then looked up, with just your eyes.
“I was just practicing holes.”
Rafe's eyebrows raised and he almost choked.
“You what?”
Your eyes went to his chest and your finger was idly drawing circles on Rafe's shirt. You shrugged and innocently explained, “I’m taking some practice lessons. I wanted to get better at golf, so that you would take me with you when you and the boys play.”
You stopped your drawings on Rafe's chest and looked up at him with pouty lips.
“Are you mad at me?”
Instead of answering, Rafe growled and frowned.
You smirked at him, you cocky little brat.
“What are you wearing anyway? Every bastard on this course is staring at your ass.”
“Don't you like my golf outfit, Rafey?” You knew he hated it when you called him that and you did it anyway. His jaws clenched.
You wore a collared blue shirt but instead of a matching skirt or proper golf shorts, you wore the tiniest shorts possible, tightly snugging your curves, barely covering your panties.
“This is no proper outfit for golfing. Those shorts scream ‘fuck me'.”
Rafe's right hand slapped hard on your exposed ass cheek, surely leaving his hand print.
You flinched and winced, then pouted, and struggled to free yourself from Rafe’s grip, but he was stronger and pulled you closer and slapped your ass again. His palm tingled, and from the look on your face, your cheek must be burning.
His fingers grabbed your chin to lift your face as he leaned down.
“I’m gonna teach you holes now,” he whispered, darkly, close to your lips.
Your cheeks flushed. He grinned devilishly. With all your bratty behavior and cockiness, Rafe was still able to make you blush. His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing in, he took what was his, as he held your body close.
When he let go, your cheeks were still flushed, your lips swollen and you were slightly out of breath.
“Since you have chased my caddie away, you will have to carry my golf bag,” you announced and turned to look for your ball.
Rafe grumbled but shouldered the damn golf bag and followed you.
“Where's that damn thing anyway?” He asked when he had caught up with you.
“There,” you pointed at the gorse.
Rafe exhaled. “We're not getting it out of there. Just take a new one.”
“No, that would be cheating, I'm gonna get it.”
“Y/n, fucking don't!”
But you ignored his words and stomped onwards, right into the gorse – and with every step you took, your ass was bouncing invitingly.
“Fuck's sake,” Rafe grumbled and followed you.
He found you bent over, legs straight, head down, ass up, hands touching the high grass, looking for your ball.
Rafe's own balls tightened at the sight. That perky ass, those tiny shorts hardly covering anything, that red mark on your bare skin – he had been correct, his hand print was showing.
His growl made you turn your head at him, but not lift your upper body.
“I think I've found it, but it's stuck.”
Rafe grumbled, walked closer. Walking with his dick getting harder was damn uncomfortable.
“Fuck's sake,” he repeated.
“What?” You asked innocently, wriggling your fine ass.
“Enough,” Rafe barked and you flinched at his harsh tone.
Before you could get up, he grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and his hand smacked your ass several times, making you mewl. Rafe carried you out of the gorse, over the greens to the golf cart.
“Ouch,” you mouthed and pulled a face as you were seated on your ass, sore from his spanking.
He got in the cart, sat behind the steering wheel and shot you a sideways glance. His eyes narrowed.
“Stop complaining, that was nothing yet.”
“Where are we going?” You sniffled.
“To the club,” he stated tersely. He knew he wouldn't make it back home to Tanny Hill, with his dick already achingly hard. A room at the club would do, and he knew there would always be one available – the perks of being a premium member.
“But what about my lessons?” You looked at Rafe, sulking.
“Oh, your lessons ain't over yet.”
He could see you nibbling at your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous or excited or both.
While he was driving across the course, he tried to look where he was going, but you kept on wriggling in your seat, which was fucking irritating.
“Stop that!” He faced you briefly and lifted his hand, a warning gesture.
“Sorry, daddy,” you said sweetly, leaned forward, and your mouth covered Rafe's finger. Sucking on it, you looked at him with large eyes, your lips closed tightly around the digit, your tongue swirling around it.
“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Rafe almost ran over some gaffer – not that he would've cared.
Rafe tried to get back on track while his cock was pulsing. You took his hand, guided it between your legs, rubbing over your thighs as you spread them. His hand touched the fabric of those damn shorts, and Rafe could feel that you were already soaking wet, those layers of clothing couldn't even hide that.
You began moaning as you were rubbing his hand against your core.
He pulled it away, raised it, finger pointing, and glared at you angrily.
“Don't!”
You pouted, crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked away. But Rafe grabbed your jaw forcefully, turning your face to look at him, pressing harder than necessary, which made you wince and gaze at him.
“You don't touch yourself unless I allow you. You know the rules.”
He kept his eyes on you while still driving.
“You hear me?” His voice loud and intimidating.
You cast your eyes down and mumbled, “Yes, daddy.”
His cock twitched in his pants, which were getting too damn tight by now.
When he let go, you added, hardly audible, “But I didn't touch myself, it was your hand…”
You probably thought that he didn't hear that as he didn't react to it right away, but he did hear it, and it drove him fucking insane. And you would experience soon enough how mad he was because of you.
Rafe parked the golf cart close to entrance of the main building, got out, grabbed your arm, so hard he would leave bruises, and dragged you along with him. You could hardly keep up, he was walking so quickly, and with his tall legs, he was able to make longer strides.
At the reception no one questioned why Rafe was holding you in such a tight grip while you were obviously struggling to escape. He asked for the key card to a room and he got it and on top of that, the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. Rafe growled in response.
He shoved you towards the elevator and got inside with you. It cost him a lot not to ravish you the moment the doors closed. The grip around your arm was iron. When the doors opened, he pushed you out, along the corridor to the room. After opening it with the key card, he forcefully pushed you inside. You stumbled and almost fell, but caught yourself on the edge of the king-size bed.
Right after he had let go off you, he started to undress himself, pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.
“Take off those goddamn shorts and get on the bed. Now.” His commanding voice left you no choice but to obey. You looked at him, eyes wandering over his naked body as you undressed yourself, taking the shorts together with the panties off last. He frowned at you, but your eyes were on his rock hard cock that he was stroking, while glaring at you.
You climbed onto the bed. Impatiently, he walked over and grabbed you, moved you around as he wanted to have you, flipping you over, then pulling your body up, so you were on all fours now, while he kneeled behind your spread legs.
Rafe leaned over your body, his chest touching your back, his hand grabbed your throat, forcing your head up, a restrained sound coming from your opened mouth.
“You gonna be a good whore, right?” He cooed into your ear.
With his free hand, he guided his hard length between your legs, rubbing it along your dripping wet slit, covering it nicely in your juices. You mewled and started wriggling.
“Please,” you moaned, already so needy.
He turned your face to shut those desperate moans with his greedy kiss, while his cock was replaced by his fingers, which where rubbing along your slit, parting your folds, but never quite entering and never touching your clit. You were so incredibly wet, his fingers were practically dripping as he pulled them away and sat up behind you, letting go off your throat, leaving you with a confused look on your face.
“I still need to teach you a lesson.”
You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but Rafe continued, a sardonic grin on his face.
“The lesson is: If you wear such tiny shorts, hardly covering your ass, but showing it off, inviting everyone to fuck it, you get fucked up the ass, like the whore you are.”
“But –” you started to complain, but a slap of his hand on your ass made you cry out instead.
Despite it being such a fine piece of flesh, Rafe had never fucked your ass before, only put a finger or two inside your tight hole once or twice. You didn't have proper training yet, but you needed to learn that your teasing had consequences.
He spat on his already wet fingers and stroked between your ass cheeks. You whined, but he knew that it was a sound you made when you were impatient. You wouldn't have to wait long – though it wasn't what you actually waited for, he knew that. Rafe gripped you by the hip, as his fingers pushed against your back entrance. Your muscle was tense and instead of opening up for him, it closed. Rafe growled and he felt your body shudder. His grip got firmer, preventing you from retreating as his index finger pushed inside, stretching your tight ring.
“It hurts, daddy,” you whined and craned your neck to look back at Rafe.
He slowly moved his finger back and forth inside you. Your breathing hitched as he curled that finger in your tight hole. Your muscle was clenching so hard around his digit, it almost made it impossible to move it.
He let go off your hip to hit your ass cheek.
“Relax! Or it'll just hurt more.”
Your answer was a whining sound and you let your head hang between your shoulders.
Rafe pushed your legs further apart to get better access, pressed on your lower back and you obeyed by arching your back nicely. He grinned at the sight. You were completely exposed to him and at his mercy.
He pulled his finger out, only to push back in two fingers, thrusting deep and hard.
You let out a scream and started begging.
“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whined.
His fingers fucking your ass, he let his hard cock teasingly brush along your pussy, never applying too much pressure, just enough to tease you. When he pulled back, his cock was covered in your wetness.
“So wet for me. Such a needy whore you are.”
His fingers left your hole, the tight muscle pulsing invitingly. He rubbed some more spit on it and felt you shiver under his touch.
He took his cock in his hand, guiding it, stroking your round ass cheeks with it, before pressing the wet tip against your throbbing little hole.
“You gonna take it like the good whore you are, hm? Your my little whore, right?”
You mewled and panted.
He waited.
“Daddy, daddy,” you whined.
Then he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, pushing your ass up, that little hole twitched and opened up, inviting him in, and he pushed in.
You cried out as his cock's thick head stretched your tender muscle. He needed both his hands now to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place, as he greedily watched his thick cock slowly pushing into your fine ass.
Your screaming turned into an irregular whimpering as the thick head was practically sucked into your ass.
“So, good,” Rafe praised you, his own breathing heavy. “You're doing so good, baby, taking me so good. Such a good whore.”
His thumb caressed your hip, he felt you relax just the tiniest bit. He tensed up, tightened his grip again and thrust his hip forward, making your body almost jump forward by the force, if he hadn't held you that firmly.
He growled as your walls clenched around his cock, but he pushed deeper. Pulling back, he gasped as your sensitive muscle was clamping so hard around his thick cock.
“So good, baby,” he said under heavy breathing.
He pushed in, watching with greedy fascination how his too big cock vanished inch by inch into your perfect ass, stretching your too tight hole mercilessly.
“Daddy! I can't!” You cried out, sobbing now.
“You can and you will.”
He began moving in a steady rhythm, fucking your tight ass good and hard. He didn't push too hard though, knowing well what you could take. You were sobbing and crying and whining, but he didn't stop, he knew your body better than you did, and he knew that you could do this. Your little protests, your screams and moans and whimpers made him only go harder.
He couldn't get it all in though, you were too tight and not trained, and he was too big. Part of him got angry about that, but you felt so damn good, he could use you so damn well that it seemed enough.
Then he saw your hand move between your legs, you were desperately trying to touch yourself. But Rafe didn't let you.
He angrily growled, slapped your ass hard, making you flinch. Then he grabbed your hand by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there.
You cried out in pain.
“I told you not to do that!” He growled between clenched teeth. You were driving him mad, so fucking mad.
Your body shook and trembled under his hard thrusts as he took what was his, took you without mercy. Pounding you harder, his growing anger made him lose all restraint.
You were so tight, the friction was so intense, the sounds you made were so hot, Rafe felt his climax approaching and he didn't hold back. He felt his every muscle tense up, then let go, gasping for air, as he reached his orgasm, shooting his cum into you. His whole body electrified and in that post orgasmic bliss, he pushed again into your well-used hole, once, twice, driving his load deeper into you, before pulling out. When he let go off you, you just face down collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, a fucking mess. He grinned at the sight of you.
“My whore,” he whispered into your ear, leaning down, kissing your damp hair, before he got up. His own breathing slowing down eventually.
Watching you lie there, and wriggle and pant, he knew you hadn't reached your climax yet.
“Don't you dare move”, his voice a dark command.
He waited for a moment. And this time it seemed you were actually listening, probably fearing the consequences. Had you learned your lesson after all? He doubted that, you were such a brat and would always be. Since you didn't move, just lay there panting, Rafe went into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself.
When he came back, you were lying in the same position on the bed, on your stomach, arms away from your body, legs apart, your body raising and falling from your exhausted breathing, cum dripping out of your hole between your reddened cheeks. Rafe grinned at the sight of the mess he had turned you into.
He sat down on the bed, still naked, back resting against the headboard, his legs on the bed, he was sitting next to you, not touching you, but you could definitely feel the bed tilt from his weight, feel his proximity, as he felt the heat radiating from your body.
You lifted your head, turned your face to gaze at him with teary eyes.
“You're such a mess,” he grinned at you, his hand caressing your face.
“Did you cum?” He asked, but already knew the answer.
You shook your head.
“You wanna cum?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Then you know what to do,” he simply said.
You got up on your knees next to him, sat down on your heels, flinching as they poked into your sore ass cheeks.
“Please daddy can I cum?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“And how do you wanna cum?” It wasn't a real question, more of a test.
Still, you seemed to contemplate the answer, biting your bottom lip. Your gaze turned to his cock, though not hard, still impressive. Then your eyes moved to his hands. Those hands that knew how to hold you, to touch you. Then your look was on his face. Yours was a beautiful mess. Your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes teary and bloodshot, tears and sweat had ruined your makeup and smeared mascara all over your face. God, you were so beautiful.
“With your cock inside me.”
The way you said those words, with such sincerity and almost solemn honesty, it made his cock twitch in response.
But words weren't enough.
“Then work for it.”
In an inviting, almost generous gesture, he pointed at his crotch.
You very willingly accepted the invitation, moved closer, bent over, and Rafe hissed as your greedy little mouth took in his thick cock, sucking hard at it, tongue swirling along the tip. One hand clasping the thick shaft, you steadied yourself with the other hand on his thigh. You gazed sideways up at him, when you began bobbing your head.
Rafe's breathing quickened, as he felt his cock growing in your mouth. His hands clutched the expensive bedsheets, stopping himself from forcing your head down further. You were already gagging on his length, not nearly half of it in your mouth.
Your efforts did some good, but he wasn't ready yet.
He grabbed you by the hair to pull you up, made you whimper, spit dripping from your swollen lips, as you were gazing at him.
“Ride it.”
His command made you freeze and visibly shudder, but you hurried to follow his order. As he let go off your hair, you straddled him, mewling when his thick length pressed against your sensitive core, too long neglected, it seemed.
He gripped your jaws hard, made you focus on him. His piercing eyes glaring at you.
“Don't you dare cum before I’m inside of you. Understood?”
You tried to nod, which was hard with his tight grip at your jaws, but your pleading eyes told him, you had understood him.
“Good.” He leaned forward to kiss you hard, before letting go and leaning back in the pillows.
Your hands ran over his muscular torso. You bit your lips, looking at his hard abs, as you began rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing nicely. He grabbed them, kneaded them with both his hands, felt how you flinched and tensed up, as you felt his greedy hunger. His cock pulsing under you.
You closed your eyes, as if you would focus on the slick sounds your pussy made when slapping against his hard dick.
“Turn around.” Rafe's voice made your eyes flutter open. “Let me see that ass that you want the whole golf club to fuck. Let me see that ass that only belongs to me.”
Rafe added an encouraging slap on your ass to stress his command. He even helped you to turn, sit down, astride with your back to him, while you did nothing more than make those small needy sounds that drove him insane with lust.
His hand pushed on your upper back, making you bent down a bit, holding onto his legs.
He had the perfect view of your ass and pussy. His cum dripping from your ass mixing with your own wetness dripping from your pussy.
Two fingers dipped into your cunt, making you squirm and mewl and beg.
“Daddy…”
You clenched around his digits and he slapped your ass.
Pulling out his fingers, he lifted you up, pushed you into position, guiding his now rock hard cock to your pussy and pushed in. Rafe grabbed your hair to get you into an upright position again. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his hips rocked hard against yours, pushing his whole length into you as you sank down onto him.
“Rafe, Daddy, fuck,” you stammered, your whole body shuddered and you were completely undone, cumming all over his cock just from his first thrust into you.
And he fucked you through your high, not stopping when you were all spent. Using you over and over again.
You were such a good whore for him. And all your holes were his.
a/n: writing this was a lot of fun. i don't know shit about golf. thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, and likes too! i've only been doing this for 2 weeks now and i'm kinda overwhelmed that my first x reader smut fic got over 1k notes! thank you all so much! i got ideas for many more fics. let me know what you'd like to read! p.s. happy kinktober!
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
good host
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words: 4.1k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, smut, blowjobs, voyeurism, getting off rafes friends :), female receiving oral, riding, protected and unprotected p in v sex, male masturbation, cock warming, men other than rafe fuck reader including ocs
your heels click down the steps, the circle of boys suddenly falling into silence as you enter out the sliding doors onto the patio.
“need anything?” you ask, trying your best to play the good housewife and host now that you and rafe have moved in together.
“couple more beers if you don’t mind.” rafe says, and you nod, tiny skirt swishing as you head back inside, getting as many cold beers as you can carry before hustling back to the outdoor seating area, all the boys eyes moving from the game on the television to you as you bend down and set the beers down on the table, giving them an eyeful down your shirt.
“anything else?” you ask rafe, who wraps his hand around your thigh and tugs you closer, making you giggle as you bend down and press a kiss to his lips.
“why don’t you suck me off?” rafe asks, stroking his hand up, flipping up the bottom of your skirt to show everyone the tiny pink thong you are wearing as his hand grips the flesh of your ass.
“in… in front of everyone?”
“yeah, entertain me. this game is boring as fuck.” rafe watches as you sink to your knees, forever his good girl, listening to whatever he tells you with minimal questions.
rafe glances at the guys as you rub over his crotch, feeling him harden under his khakis. “don’t worry boys, you can use her too after she’s done with me.” 
your eyes widen, glancing at the other guys sitting amongst the couches and chairs. topper and kelce you know well, but theres two more guys whose names you only vaguely remember, chris and ezra. you think that rafe met them golfing, but you usually are only half paying attention when rafe recounts his round of golf to you.
“you good with that baby?” rafe asks, giving you an opportunity to back out, but he knows that you would never.
“of course. whatever you want rafe.” you smile up at him as your fingers work quickly, unbuttoning his shorts with ease, having repeated the action so many times. the zipper is the next thing to be tugged down and open, your hand diving into the open space, rubbing your fingers over his length through the material of his underwear.
“oh, fuck yeah.” rafe groans with a smile on his face, leaning back against the couch as your fingertips get him hard, wanting him to be as thick and big as possible before pulling his dick out, not that rafes size could ever be an embarrassment to him.
“come on baby, suck me.” rafe lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to tug his shorts and underwear down enough for his cock to push free from the confides. you smile at the sight of his dick, forgetting that anyone elses is around as you wrap your hand around the base, stroking a few times until he’s got a bead of precum leaking from his tip, which you quickly lick up, tongue lapping over the head of his cock.
you glance to the side to kelce who is sitting next to rafe, winking at him before lowering your head, your mouth expanding as rafes big cock pushes inside of you. you swallow around his length, drool already beginning to drip down your chin.
“her mouth is so good, just wait till yall feel this.” rafe moans, one hand fisting in your hair, helping you keep your rhythm as he hits the back of your throat, making you gag but not letting it stop your movements.
“i call next.” a voice you realize must be ezra pops up. you slow down at his voice, only slightly, not wanting rafe to be finished too quickly. you have no problem getting his friends off if thats what rafe wants, but you also only crave him, only want his cock, so you plan on relishing in his taste.
“alright, chill, everyone will get a turn.” rafe laughs, proud knowing that his girlfriend is so desired. if he wasn’t so confident in the strength of your relationship, he would beat ezra to a pulp for even thinking about you in a sexual way, but you’re such a good girl for him rafe knows you don’t see another man that way.
you pull off rafes cock to drag your tongue around his head before going over the slit, making rafe squirm slightly, his hand tightening in your hair as you retake his cock in your hand, stroking while your tongue licks along his length, going all the way down to the base before kissing his balls gently.
rafe groans when you take one into your mouth, keeping your sucking gentle because you know how delicate and sensitive his skin there is.
you make sure to give them some good attention while your hand takes care of his cock before you need to have him inside you again, sinking your lips around his cock and quickly building back up to the same rapid pace you know rafe likes.
“close.” rafe groans, his hips rising slightly off the couch, pushing up in time with your head bobbing. you close your eyes and clench your thumb between your first, willing your gag reflex to not force you to pull off as you take him deep.
you suck his cock down, swallowing around his thickness until he pulses inside of your throat, a telltale sign that hes seconds away from bursting. rafes cock suddenly swells and then hes cumming, shooting his load down your throat as you continue to suckle on his cock, pulling off slightly so you can taste sum of his cum on your tongue.
“fuuuuck.” rafe groans, slumping against the couch. you pull off with a happy smile, pressing a kiss to his softening cock. you can’t resist kissing up along his length before you tuck him carefully back into his underwear and shorts.
“good girl.” rafe leans down, kissing your forehead. “why don’t you take your top off then go suck ezra? hmm?”
“okay.” you nod. you tug your shirt up, turning so everyone can see as you toss it to the ground before you reach behind your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall away. rafe smirks at the boys faces, eyes trained on your chest as you blush under all of their gazes before moving across to the other couch to ezra.
“can i touch?” ezra asks, but not to you as he looks to rafe, who must nod as ezra reaches for your tits, cupping them in his palms, feeling so different to rafes large hands. he swipes his thumbs over your nipples, and while it feels good you don’t want another man to make you moan so easily, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.
“come on, doll. don’t just sit there get to work.” rafe says, suddenly blinking back to reality, reaching forward while ezra continues to play with your chest while you undo his pants, eyes widening when you realize he’s not wearing underwear as his cock pushes free of its confines.
you wrap your hand around his length, smaller than rafe in length but similar thickness. you begin stroking, watching in fascination at ezras reaction. you glance behind you to make sure rafe is still satisfied and giving his approval.
when rafe gives you a nod to go ahead, you lean forward and take ezra into your mouth, cringing initially at the different taste before you get used to it, rubbing your tongue against the bottom of his cock while you sink down, his cock not going down your throat like rafes does.
“fuck, she is good.” ezra moans. your cheeks flush, realizing you haven’t even pulled out all your tricks yet as you speed up, bobbing your head up and down in a dramatic fashion to show rafe just how good you’re being, obediently getting his friends off.
you don’t savor ezras taste like you do rafes, wanting him to cum quickly as you allow your teeth to gently graze the bottom of his cock, making ezra let out a mix of a shout and a moan.
“god, rafe, are you sure your girlfriends not a porn star?” kelce asks, making you giggle and have to pull off, hand stroking ezra as you wait for rafes answer.
“nah, she only fucks who i let her. you know she was a virgin when we met? now look at her, my fucking slut.” rafe makes sure to emphasis that you belong to him, and while the other boys may be given this chance to use you, they better not get any wrong ideas.
“only a whore for you, rafey.” you giggle, taking ezras cock back into your mouth, also wanting to point out that the only reason you’re interested in even touching any of them is because rafe wants you to, needing to repay his friends for coming over only to watch such a boring game of football.
you suckle at the head of ezras cock before pushing down, nuzzling your nose into his skin as you feel him pulse and then shoot his load in the back of your mouth. you happily swallow before pulling off with a smirk.
“come here.” topper calls to you from the armchair. you stand up and cross over to topper, looking to rafe before back to his friend. 
“can i eat her out?” topper asks, holding your hips in his hands as you stand between his legs.
“yeah.” rafe nods, knowing he’s bragged to topper about how delicious you are, how good the sounds you make get when he’s lapping at your cunt, clearly bragging enough to make topper choose eating you out before receiving head himself.
“but baby-” rafes voice has you turning to look at him. “you’re not allowed to cum. only i can make you cum.”
you nod as topper stands, switching so you can sit down on the armchair. you spread your legs for topper, revealing the tiny thong, already covered with a wet patch as he kneels between your legs.
topper kisses along your thighs teasingly, enjoying feeling your warm flesh as the sound of the football game fills the background. he finally reaches your underwear, his tongue pressing against the wetness, your thighs clenching temporarily before relaxing again, looking to rafe, whose eyes are flickering between the game and you, your open legs with his best friend kneeled between them.
“can i take them off?” topper asks, rafe quickly saying yes. you raise your hips up, fingers gripping into the fabric of the arms of the chair as topper pulls your underwear down, leaving your tiny flouncy skirt on.
he buries his head immediately between your legs, tongue lapping against your cunt as chris grabs your wet thong, bringing it up to his nose and taking a deep sniff of the material.
you frown when he holds onto the material, knowing that all your underwear belongs to rafe, but you don’t say anything yet, losing focus on chris as topper flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit.
“fuck, you are delicious. you guys need to taste.” topper scooches back as kelce shoots forward, taking his place. kelce is far less gentle, shoving his tongue into your hole as you let out a low moan. your hands grip at your tits, massaging them while chris undoes his pants, taking his cock out and wrapping your thong around his length, similar in size to ezras but slightly slimmer.
“such a beautiful pussy.” kelce says, barely pulling away as his words vibrate over your cunt. you whine, eyes flickering between rafe and chris stroking himself with your thong, rubbing it over his length.
kelce focuses on your hole while topper reaches forward to place the pad of his thumb on your clit, making your body shake, feeling overstimulated as a rush of wetness floods over you, knowing you’re bound to drip onto the cushion beneath you.
kelce thrusts his tongue in and out, making you gyrate your hips, wanting more. kelce seems to get the memo when he pulls away, pushing a finger into your cunt, easily able to slide in with how wet you are.
topper switches back to using his mouth, making kelce stretch to finger you as topper sucks at your clit, replacing his thumb and bringing you even more pleasure.
“remember, princess, don’t cum.” rafe reminds you, eyes quickly turning back to the tv when a good play happens.
“but hes so good at head.” you whine, telling the truth, topper has a talented mouth, using his lips, tongue and even teeth as they graze over your sensitive skin.
kelce laughs at rafes frown as he pushes a second finger into you, pulling his cock out with his free hand and stroking, now two of the boys getting themselves off as chris continues. you don’t want the thong back anymore, knowing he’s going to ruin it with cum soon enough.
its like topper is trying to make you break rafes rule and force you into an orgasm, his eyes closed as he focuses on your pleasure, trying desperately to bring it out of you.
“p-please.” you whine, kelces fingers moving faster, pumping into you with obscene sounds spreading. you can’t help the almost nonstop moans, eyes flickering to chris’s cock then face as he paints your thong white before slumping down, his cock pulsing.
“can i fuck her? please let me fuck her.” kelce asks, looking to rafe, squeezing his cock knowing he won’t last much longer.
“yeah.” rafe shrugs. “let me make her cum first.” he says as halftime begins, using the break in the game to his advantage as he walks over to you, chest heaving as topper continues right up until rafe taps him out. you let out a sigh of relief, not sure how much longer you would have lasted.
rafe sinks down, pushing kelces hand away too as his fingers instantly take the spot of pumping into you, already feeling so much better, longer and more familiar. 
“lets see if my mouth is better.” rafe smirks, and you know you’re bound to cum quickly as his head drops, instantly sucking your clit into his mouth with a level of fervor that he rarely gives you, clearly wanting to prove that no one can pleasure you like he can.
you scream out, not able to control your squeals as your hands grip his hair, holding his head tight to your pussy, the other boys watching as your tits bounce, a light gleam of sweat making them look even more appetizing. 
you cum quickly with such force that your entire body shudders, shaking as rafe gently licks you through your high, keeping his fingers lodged deep inside of you.
“good girl.” he smiles, kissing your thigh before moving up to peck your lips, even as you still breath heavily, jaw slack.
“now you’re gonna ride kelce for me right? be my good girl and make him cum.” rafe questions, and you quickly nod, swallowing as you look to kelce, who has now sat himself on the couch, his large cock almost rivaling rafes.
“put a condom on, man.” rafe says as he stands up. “you’re not taking my girl raw, are you crazy?”
kelce hustles to grab his wallet, not wanting to upset rafe and lose out on the opportunity as you pull your skirt off to bring yourself totally nude, somehow still feeling comfortable in front of all the mostly dressed men, just happy to be doing what rafe wants and entertaining his friends.
you move over to the couch after kelce has rolled the condom on, straddling his lap and grinding down against his dick, rubbing it between your folds. usually in this position you’d be making out with rafe, but you really don’t want to kiss anyone else but him, so you keep your back straight.
“come on.” kelce grabs your ass, grinding you down harder, clearly tired of the teasing, especially since he’s already been stroking himself.
you giggle at his impatience and reach down, lining his cock up with your entrance before sinking down, moaning slightly at his length, not used to the rubber since rafe never uses condoms, but kelce feels pretty similar.
you immediately begin to bounce, not caring about your pleasure, knowing you won’t be able to cum from this anyways. kelces hand gripping your ass helps you move, making sure to keep a quick pace, clenching your cunt around his cock every time you pull off.
“such a pretty girl.” rafe coos, reaching out to grip your chest, palm swallowing your bouncing tit. “give me a kiss, come on.”
you sink down on kelces cock, grinding gently as you lean over to rafe, pressing a kiss against his lips, giving him a soft smile, ignoring the way kelce instantly begins to buck his hips up into you.
“you’re doing so good for me.” rafe says. “thank you for helping my boys out and keeping us entertained.” “just wanna make you happy.” you tell rafe, stroking your thumb over his cheek before kissing him again, mouth so sweet against his, in sharp contrast to the way kelce is thrusting up into your pussy, grunting and groaning as he clearly struggles to hold back, but you’re too focused on rafe.
“love you.” you whisper against rafes lip, his tongue sweeping out to enter your mouth as kelce lets out a final shout, holding your hips down as he cums into the condom. you slide off the second he’s done, crawling onto rafes lap to continue to kiss.
“gonna take you for a massage tomorrow.” rafe says, rubbing over your thighs, knowing he’s putting your body through a lot. “and a shopping spree.” “mkay.” you smile, fluttering your eyelashes at rafe before turning, seeing toppers dick out, having retaken his spot in the armchair, just now without pants.
“want me to suck you off now top?” you question, wanting to return the head that he gave you.
“can i-” he swallows roughly “can i fuck you too?”
“aww, of course sweetie!” you stand up, moving over to topper. he’s always been your favorite amongst rafes friends. he will hold conversations with you when you’re hanging out, unlike the other guys who are mostly just scared to touch rafes things. you’re wonder how much will change after today.
topper stands up, gesturing for you to get on the chair. you kneel on it, pushing your chest into the back of the couch as toppers hands rub over your ass. you look back at him, nodding that he can start whenever.
“condom.” rafe calls out as a reminder, making topper groan quietly, hoping he could get away with it, but he grabs a condom offered to him from kelce and rolls it on.
you giggle at his face, one of pure pleasure before he even gets inside of you. topper rubs his cock through your folds, still dripping onto the seat as he suddenly pushes forward, burying his entire length inside of you.
you let out a moan, head falling against the back of the seat, surprised by how big topper feels from this angle. he begins to thrust, keeping his movements slow but deep, making sure to fully press against your ass, using his hands on your hips to keep you still.
“goddamn, i wanna fuck her too.” ezra groans.
“nah, she’s gonna sit on my cock next, you already cummed.” rafe says, feeling a slightly bit of jealousy bubble up in his gut from watching you give pleasure to another man.
“alright, i call first for fucking her next time.” ezra concedes.
“no way bro, she didn’t even touch me! i’m getting her first.” chris argues as topper begins to move faster, the argument being drowned out by both of your moans.
“need i remind you she is my girl? i get to choose who uses her. you’re lucky she’s being such a good hostess and willing to entertain yall, dont ruin it by fighting.” rafe warns.
chris and ezra quietly agree and apologize. rafe glances again at you, your pussy squelching each time topper pushes his hips in. if he was a less confident man, he would shove top away and show you how only he can fuck you right, but at the end of the day, rafe knows you only want him.
“don’t-don’t rub my clit.” you warn topper when he reaches around you to touch your pussy.
“gonna cum if i do?” he questions, grinning when you nod. he’s not used to taking such a dominant role, liking how you are clearly brought to pleasure by him.
“you better not, brat.” rafe warns, reminding you of his rule as topper listens and places his both his hands back on your hips, not wanting you to get in trouble with rafe after being such a good girl.
topper snaps his hips faster, not ashamed to cum quickly considering how easily some of the other guys busted. he can only hold off for a few more minutes, especially when you start pushing your hips back.
“i-i’m close.” topper warns seconds before he cums, letting out a string of moans as you continue to slowly move on his cock, letting his high run its course before he pulls out, the condom filled with white.
“come on, princess.” rafe reaches his hand out to you as you stumble over to him, thighs now tired but willing to have a little more energy for rafe to do whatever he pleases for you.
“you’ve been such a good girl, come take a seat.” rafe says, and you realize he had gotten his cock out again at some point. “you can watch the last quarter with us, yeah?” 
you nod, turning so your ass is in rafes face as you slowly lower down, moaning when his big cock stretches you out. you settle all the way down until he’s pressed right up against your cervix, leaning your back into rafes chest. he grabs his beer off the side table next to him, taking a sip while you relax, eyes turning to the game as well.
the other guys can sense that you’re finished, tucking themselves away and retaking their position to watch the game. you don’t miss chris pushing your underwear into his pocket. you’ll have to buy another pair when rafe takes you on a shopping trip tomorrow.
the game is just as boring as rafe says it was, and you understand why he needed some entertainment, the only touchdown being scored in the first half. you aren’t the biggest fan of watching sports in general, but having rafes cock inside of you makes it a lot more enjoyable. he even gives you a couple sips of his beer.
the game ends with little fanfare, making all the boys sigh, just happy that it’s over but disappointed as a whole.
“i trust you boys can see yourselves out.” rafe pipes up, looking around at his friends. “i need to fuck my lady now.”
the boys take their cue, quickly grabbing whatever they brought and heading out, but topper stops as he passes you. “thank you for being such a good host.”
“thank you for the good head.” you giggle, making rafes hand squeeze tighter on your thigh. topper smiles before leaving, kelce also taking the opportunity to mumble a thank you after toppers lead.
“don’t invite chris back.” you say, glad that you were able to get away with not touching him. “he kinda gives me the creeps.”
rafe laughs but nods, “whatever you want baby girl. thank you for doing that.” “of course.” you nod. “it’s part of living with you, keeping your friends stocked up on beers and also making them cum.”
“how in the world did i find a girl as perfect as you?” rafe says softly, moving you suddenly before you can even comprehend, your back being pressed into the sofa as rafe kneels between your legs, shoving his cock back deep in your cunt.
you giggle, cheeks turning red. “i just love you so much. wanna make you happy.”
“you make me very happy, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your lips before beginning to pump his cock into you, your moans drowning out the tv still on in the background.
“your cock is perfect.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe pounds into you, going deep and hard after being buried inside of you without moving for so long. “no one else compares to you.”
“and don’t you forget it, baby.” rafe smirks.
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sadnymi · 1 month
Text
「 ✦ cloud nine. ✦ 」
Mattheo riddle x reader [part2]
Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.
Warnings:fluff,smut, angst
Words: 11.2k
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The whispers followed me like a shroud, a constant murmur that swirled around the edges of my existence. "The jinx girl ," they hissed, punctuated by snickers and pointed fingers. Bad luck, they believed, clung to me like a second skin, a misfortune I carried wherever I went.
Hogwarts, a place that promised magic and wonder, had become a labyrinth of avoidance. Empty seats flanked me in Potions, desks strategically moved away in Charms, and hushed conversations abruptly stopped when I entered the room. I was a pariah, a freak, the girl who supposedly brought misfortune upon anyone who dared come close.
Every dropped potion, every sprained ankle, every lost Quidditch match - all blamed on me, Y/N Y/L/N, the harbinger of bad luck. Hogwarts, once a dream, had become a prison. Even the ghosts seemed to cower at my presence.
Professor Flitwick, a whirlwind of energy and charm despite his diminutive stature, announced a project for our Charms class.
"Partnering up for a Conjuring Extravaganza!" he squeaked, his voice a high-pitched melody. "Showcase your enchanting skills with a partner of your choosing!"
The room erupted in excited chatter, students scrambling to find their partners. I, however, remained rooted to the spot, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. Who would want to pair up with the cursed child? As if sensing my despair, Professor Flitwick's bright blue eyes twinkled in my direction.
"Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N," he chirped, "there's always a perfect match for everyone!"
His words offered little comfort. The pairings continued, each giggling duo a stark reminder of my isolation. Just when I resigned myself to another solo project, a voice cut through the din.
"I'll pair with Y/L/N ."
The classroom fell silent. Heads swiveled in unison, disbelief etched on their faces. It was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince with a reputation as sharp as his intellect .
Professor Flitwick, however, beamed like a firework had gone off in his tiny fist. "Excellent choice, Mr. Riddle!"
My jaw dropped. Mattheo Riddle? Partnering with me ? the jinxing girl ? It was as unexpected as a dragon hatching a pixie. A ripple of surprised murmurs coursed through the class. Did he just volunteer? Was this a cruel joke?
stole a glance at Mattheo, half expecting a smirk or a sly wink that would shatter the illusion of kindness.
But instead, he met my gaze with a genuine, albeit hesitant, smile. It was a rare sight on his usually stoic face, a flicker of warmth that sent a jolt through me. He sauntered over, his confident stride somehow softened as he approached me.
"Fancy working together, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly, to talk to , and the informality sent a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks.
"I... I uh, sure," I stammered, still struggling to process the situation.
Professor Flitwick launched into the specifics of the project, outlining the different magical creatures we could try conjuring. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.
"So," he began, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what kind of magic are you most comfortable with love ?"he said, pulling up a chair next to me.
My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that term – "love" – with me before. It was a small word, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of isolation.
A hesitant smile tugged at my lips. "I, uh, I'm actually quite good with summoning charms," I confessed, surprised by my own boldness.
His smile widened. "Excellent," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm more of a transfiguration specialist. We could combine our strengths."
Combine our strengths? The thought of working alongside Mattheo, of learning from him and maybe even teaching him a thing or two myself, sent a thrill through me.
A comfortable silence settled between us as we delved into the project details. Professor Flitwick's lecture faded into background noise . Mattheo surprised me with his easygoing nature, his sharp intellect tempered with a dry wit that made me laugh, a sound that felt foreign escaping my lips.
Finally, Professor Flitwick called out the end of class. "Alright, class! Dismissed! Remember, be creative, be precise, and most importantly, have fun!"
My heart still hammered in my chest, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating thrill. Mattheo gathered his books, and as he turned to leave, he caught my eye “ see you around Y/L/N “
The crisp autumn air sent a shiver down my spine as I settled onto the worn wooden bench in the school gardens. pulled out the book I burrowed from the library earlier , determined to bury myself in its intricacies and forget the entire debacle.
The rhythmic crunch of gravel on the path drew my attention. I glanced up, bracing myself for another encounter with Pansy and her posse, only to find Mattheo approaching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher.
He stopped a few steps away, a silent question hanging in the air. Surprised, I stammered, "M-Mattheo? What are you doing here?"
A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice softer than I was accustomed to hearing from him.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Was this real? "I, uh, sure," I managed, gesturing to the empty space beside me.
He sat down, our shoulders brushing slightly. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. Stealing a glance at him, I noticed his gaze fixed on the book in my lap. "Studying for the Charms exam?"
I shook my head. "Actually, this is more of a personal read. It's about obscure magical creatures."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? Intriguing. Anything interesting?"
Hesitantly, I explained the book's exploration of Fae lore, their connection to emotions and the delicate balance they maintained with the human world.
To my surprise, Mattheo listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions that sparked further discussion. We delved into the complexities of Fae magic, debated the ethics of human interaction with these mythical beings.
A playful glint flickered in his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile danced on his lips as he listened to my passionate explanation of Fae lore.
"Why – why are you smiling like that?" I asked hesitantly
"You just look so passionate about it," he explained, a genuine smile gracing his features.
"Actually, it’s totally my uncle fault he was the one who got me into it," I confessed, a fond smile playing on my lips. "He used to read me Fae tales before bed when I was young. Now here I am, analyzing their magical properties."
"Are you close with your uncle?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, very close," I replied, then hesitated, a shadow crossing my face.
He picked up on the shift in my mood. "Everything okay?"
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the question that had been gnawing at me since the library. "Why are you doing this, Mattheo? Is this a dare or something?"
He frowned, genuine confusion etched on his face. "Why would you say that?"
"You know," I rambled, gesturing at the empty garden around us. "Aren't you afraid?"
"Afraid of what?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement.
My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, a playful glint in his eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, sending shivers down my spine. "Me?" I whispered, barely a breath escaping my lips.
He smirked, amusement flickering across his face. "You look pretty cute to even scare a fly, love. Why should I be afraid of you?"
His words, laced with a hint of flirtation, left me speechless. His touch, light as a feather, lingered on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
"You don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at the garden, no one is here because I'm here. They believe... they believe —"
He cut me off before I could finish my frantic explanation. "But I'm here, aren't I, love?" he said, his voice a husky murmur. My heart pounded like a drum solo, the world around us seeming to fade away.
"You shouldn't be," I managed, my voice small and breathless. "I don't understand why."
"I'm not playing games with you, I promise," he replied, his voice firm. I hesitantly nodded, closing my eyes as the weight of his words settled upon me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.
"Don't be," he said softly. "I understand. And you know what? I don't care what they say. And to be honest I don't even care if it was true..."
smiling , I looked up , meeting his gaze."So you're the first "
He leaned back, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Let's just say," he began, his voice low and intriguing, "I know you weren't the reason Ronald broke his leg before the last Quidditch match."
A surprised laugh escaped my lips."And," he continued, his smile widening, "I also know that the explosion in Potions last year was entirely Harold's fault, not yours."
I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. The weight of the whispers seemed to lift with each peal, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years
"You were just there, like everybody else," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "So why would you take the blame for that?"
He leaned forward, his face so close now that my laughter subsided, replaced by a nervous flutter in my chest. "You know what they say about what happened in first year," I began, voice barely above a whisper.
"It stays with you till your last," he finished the saying, his dark eyes holding mine. A grateful smile tugged at my lips.
"So when Charlie from down the street brought the rumors from our neighborhood to school, and then spread that story about me jinxing Seamus during his first Quidditch practice.. and let's just say Neville's unfortunate Gillyweed incident didn't help my case too so a that everybody seemed to believe it ," I explained, finally voicing the truth I hadn't thought anyone would ever be interested in hearing.
"That's not fair," Mattheo said, his voice firm.
"Yeah," I sighed, "but as my Nana always says, some children are born with tragedies in their hands." A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. "And by some children, she means me."
"She sounds like a cruel woman," he muttered.
I laughed, a touch brittle. "If you think my Nana is cruel, you should've met my mother then."
The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a confession I hadn't meant to share. My cheeks burned with a sudden, hot shame. Mattheo, however, didn't seem repulsed. In fact, his expression softened further.
My voice trailed off, the weight of the past suddenly overwhelming. Sharing a secret like that felt like opening a wound I'd painstakingly hidden for years. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the setting sun casting long shadows across the quiet garden.
"I-I think I should get going," I stammered, pushing myself out of the chair, my resolve shaky at best.
A cool hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I turned to face him , his gaze a storm of emotions swirling within its depths "Don't run away yet."
My cheeks burned even hotter, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from his. "I'm not running," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't release my wrist. Instead, his grip softened, his thumb gently stroking a soothing circle against my skin. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the cold isolation I'd grown accustomed to.
"Then can I interest you in some Butterbeer tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful charm. "Three Broomsticks, perhaps? We could continue our discussion about Fae magic, or maybe you could tell me more about your Nana and your… interesting family history."
A surprised laugh escaped my lips. The idea of spending another evening with Mattheo, outside the confines of a school project, sent a thrill through me.
A smile, genuine and unrestrained, bloomed on my face. "I'd like that," I replied, my voice a whisper against the backdrop of the settling evening.
Sleep that night was a distant dream. The events in the garden replayed in my mind on an endless loop. Mattheo's hand in mine, the warmth of his touch lingering like a phantom sensation, his unexpected concern for my story – it all sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
The morning sun filtering through my dormitory window found me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a tangled mess of hair and a giddy smile plastered on my face.
But then came the most agonizing decision of the day – what to wear? My trunk overflowed with the usual witchy robes, all shades of black and grey. None seemed appropriate for a… date? Was it a date? My cheeks burned at the thought.
Finally, I settled on a compromise. A dark green skirt that swirled around my knees, a crisp black blouse , and my trusty black boots. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… me.
The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a mess a disaster as I was trying to figure out the right direction . As I pushed open the creaky oak door,I tried to breathe and calm my self down, My eyes scanned the room, searching for Mattheo amidst the bustling patrons.
And then I saw him, tucked away in a corner booth, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter. Relief washed over me, followed by a jolt of something warmer as our eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for me to join him.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I walked towards him, a self-conscious fluttering in my stomach. Reaching the table, I slid into the booth opposite him.
his gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary on my face. "you..," he finally said, a low whistle escaping his lips. "You look..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.
My cheeks flushed a rosy hue . "I look?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "Radiant," he finished, his voice a husky murmur.
My breath hitched. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. "Radiant?" I repeated, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.
"Absolutely," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Though, I have to say, for a second I thought you weren’t coming “
“ oh I’m so sorry I was just trying to find the way I, uh, I've never actually been to the Three Broomsticks before," I admitted, hoping to deflect from his unexpected compliment.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Never? But it's practically a Hogwarts tradition!"
. "I guess I've been more focused on the library and…avoiding crowds."
A flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Well, consider this your official initiation," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prepare to be overwhelmed by sticky tables, questionable singing."
The waitress returned with our drinks, placing them carefully on the table.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, momentarily shattering our peaceful bubble. A boisterous group of students, their laughter echoing through the room, flooded in. My stomach lurched as I recognized them – Charlie Spinnet , flanked by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, her face twisted in a sneer.
Unlike the usual sneer of Pansy Parkinson, Charlie's expression was a confusing mix of anger and… was that a hint of disappointment ? He locked eyes with me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something more complex in his gaze before it hardened back into a scowl.
Before I could decipher the meaning of it all, Pansy spotted us. Her voice, dripping with her usual malice, sliced through the warm bubble we'd created. "Look who is there," she drawled, directing a flirtatious smile towards Mattheo. "Hello there, Riddle."
Mattheo responded with his trademark icy drawl, "Parkinson. Always a pleasure."
She gave a curt nod before returning to her group. Charlie, however, didn't follow. His gaze remained fixed on me, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. I met his stare, a knot of unease forming in my gut.
"He's jealous," Mattheo said casually, leaning back in his seat. My jaw dropped.
"Jealous? Of what?" I stammered, completely bewildered.
"He likes you ," he replied with a knowing smirk.
A bewildered laugh escaped my lips. "He likes me ? Mattheo, the boy ruined my life" I interjected, my voice laced with a sharp edge. In truth, life hadn't been a cakewalk before Hogwarts either.
Just then, a loud shattering sound erupted from our table, sending shivers down my spine. My cup of butterbeer, which Charlie had probably targeted with a stray jinx spell , lay in pieces on the floor. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the pub as everyone turned to stare
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control the spike of panic rising in my chest. This was exactly what I'd feared. when I opened my eyes again, my gaze met Mattheo's.
Unlike me, he wasn't angry. Instead, a mischievous glint sparkled in his dark eyes. he was smirking.
"So, you said this is your first time at the Three Broomsticks, love?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips as he stood up. I felt a pit forming in my stomach, unsure of where this was headed.
"Yeah," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Then let's make it unforgettable," he declared, his smile widening. He turned towards Charlie's table, his gaze locking onto Charlie's. Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and apprehension, suddenly looked terrified.
Mattheo strolled over to their table, a confident swagger in his step. Reaching down, he casually lifted Charlie's untouched butterbeer He held it out to me with a charming smile. "Here, love," he said, not sparing Charlie a glance.
Charlie watched the exchange, his jaw clenched. "Is there anything you want to say, Spinnet?" Mattheo asked, his voice deceptively calm. Charlie just shook his head.
"Do you like toads?" Mattheo asked again a question so out of place it left us all speechless.
"S-seems like I do," Charlie stammered, his voice barely a squeak.
"Good," Mattheo said simply.
Then, in a blink, it happened. A blinding flash of light erupted from Mattheo's outstretched wand, enveloping Charlie. Before anyone could react, the speechless Charlie had vanished, replaced by a , green toad hopping comically on the table.
My scream was lost in the cacophony of shouts and gasps. Pansy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, scrambling back in her chair. Crabbe, for once, looked utterly bewildered.
Mattheo remained calm amidst the chaos, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring the stunned patrons, he reached for his pocket and placed a couple of pills on our table.
"I would take him back to the castle if I were you," he said to Pansy with a chilling smile. "Unless you prefer the company of amphibians."
Pansy was speechless, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. All she could manage was a strangled, "Merlin's Beard!"
Turning back to me, Mattheo offered his hand with his usual nonchalant charm. "Shall we go, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle contrast to the chaos he'd just unleashed.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the familiar path towards the Black Lake. Finally, we reached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing counterpoint to the earlier frenzy. Mattheo gestured towards a large, flat rock nestled under a willow tree. "Mind joining me?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
I nodded, still processing the events of the evening. Charlie's transformation, Pansy's terror, it was all a bit surreal. Sitting down on the rock, I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.
"So," Mattheo began, a playful lilt to his voice, "first date, and I turn your potential bully into a toad. Not exactly the charming introduction I was hoping for."
I glanced at him, surprised. "Date?" I stammered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.
His smile softened. "Well," he began, " we did ditch the project discussion for butterbeer and…, then turning someone into a toad… definitely not your typical Tuesday."
I couldn't help but laugh, My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I… I never thought…" I stammered, completely flustered.
He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice surprisingly soft.
"Thank you," I said, taking a deep breath, " it's the first time anyone has ever defended me like that. Not since my Uncle."
Mattheo's smile softened. "Well," he said, his voice gentle, "consider me your knight in slightly-unconventional-Slytherin-armor then."
I laughed a blush crept up my cheek
Silence descended between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the lapping of the lake.
"You mentioned your Uncle," Mattheo said, his voice curious. "Tell me about him."
"He's a bit of a character," I began, a smile playing on my lips. "He travels the world, studying ancient magic. He's probably in some remote location right now, chasing myths and legends he’s so brave ."
"Sounds fascinating," Mattheo commented, his voice laced with genuine interest. "But you're not close with anyone else in your family?"
The question hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. But something about the sincerity in his eyes, made me want to share a part of myself I rarely opened up about.
"Well, I'm not exactly their favorite," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You see, my arrival wasn't exactly... welcomed."
Mattheo's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.
Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the murky waters of my past. "My mother ,she found out she was pregnant with me. At the same time, she learned about my late brother's… illness. He died tragically, just two days before I was born."
"She… she blamed me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She believed I somehow took his place, that I was the reason he was gone."
He squeezed my hand gently, as if offering silent comfort.
"And your father?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.
"My father," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "He said I stole his son's place. He never showed me any affection, always seeing a shadow of my brother instead of me."
My throat tightened, and I struggled to continue.
"But then there’s nana … well, she is a healer," I began, taking a shaky breath"She believed in a strange kind of balance. She used to say, 'A soul for a soul.'" A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the chilling words. "'Sometimes,' she'd say, 'life takes one thing and gives another’. She just wished it had been my brother who lived."
"Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious. "That's a terrible thing to say to a child. None of that is your fault. You didn't ask to be born, and you certainly didn't cause your brother's illness."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The weight of their rejection, the constant reminder that I was somehow unwanted, had always been a heavy burden to carry.
Then, with a tenderness that took my breath away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The simple gesture, so full of empathy and understanding, felt like a dam breaking inside me. The tears that I'd been holding back spilled over, flowing freely down my cheeks.
Mattheo didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. He simply sat there, his hand cupping my face, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that both scared and excited me.
In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "They don't deserve you , Not your mother, not your father, not sure your weird grandmother . They are blind to the incredible person you are."
His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm.
"You are strong," he continued, his voice husky with emotion. "You are brave. You are kind. You carry the weight of their cruelty, yet you remain kind. That is a strength they will never possess."
His thumb continued to brush away my tears, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
As he spoke, the space between our faces seemed to shrink. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his gaze holding mine captive. The air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Then, before I could even think to stop him, Mattheo leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his hand on my face and the anticipation building within me.
His lips met mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fleeting touch, barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.," is this your first kiss? “ he murmured, his voice husky.
A slow nod confirmed his suspicion , he leaned in again, this time deepening the kiss. This kiss was different – moving with a rhythmic dance that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, a blush crept up my cheeks. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in the quiet night.The taste of his lips lingered on mine, a sweet and intoxicating sensation that left me craving more.
"So," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "Forget everything I said about first impressions being unforgettable. Maybe this is a better way to start things off."
The next weeks unfolded like a whirlwind. Mattheo became a constant presence in my life, his shadow seemingly falling across mine with an uncanny frequency. Whether it was bumping into him "accidentally" on my way to Herbology, finding him "coincidentally" seated across from me in the library buried in the same obscure text on Fae magic, or him "miraculously" appearing just as I was leaving the Great Hall, it was clear he was making a concerted effort to be around me.
His tactics, though slightly obvious, were nonetheless charming. He started leaving small gifts on my desk – a fascinating book on Veela lore, a single perfect white rose
No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel special before. Mattheo was doing just that, chip by chip, breaking down the walls I'd built around myself.
His "accidental" helpfulness extended to academics as well. He started leaving me beautifully illustrated books on ancient magic, conveniently "forgotten" on my desk. During Potions, he'd mysteriously materialize behind me just as I was about to accidentally add Flobberworm mucus to my Amortentia potion (a near disaster that could have had…interesting consequences).
One afternoon, while struggling with a particularly complex Transfiguration spell, Mattheo walked in on my frustration. He didn't laugh or poke fun,Instead, he sat down beside me, his patience as impressive as his knowledge. He explained the spell with a clarity I hadn't experienced before, his hand brushing against mine as he pointed something out on my parchment.
By the end of the week, I'd not only mastered the spell but found myself drawn to Mattheo in a way I hadn't before.
Mattheo's efforts extended beyond "accidents." He started introducing me to his friends. Theo and blaise ,Then there was Enzo, Mattheo's half-brother. With his playful demeanor and infectious laugh, Enzo made me feel welcome within their circle. I found myself enjoying their company, their camaraderie a stark contrast to the loneliness I had grown accustomed to.
One evening, while studying in the common room, , Enzo, sauntered over , He slid into the seat next to me, ignoring Mattheo's glare.
"Hey there, love," Enzo said, his voice dripping with a flirtatiousness that made me feel uncomfortable. "Studying hard?"
Before I could respond, Mattheo spoke up. "Enzo, perhaps you haven't noticed, but Y/N is busy."
Enzo simply chuckled. "Relax, brother. Just trying to be friendly." He leaned in closer to me
Enzo whispered, "He can be quite possessive, don’t you agree?" I couldn’t help but laugh, which was Mattheo’s last straw.
"Back off, Enzo," the words laced with barely contained anger , Enzo smiled and with a shrug and a playful wink at me, he sauntered away.
The most surprising consequence, however, was the complete absence of whispers. The rumors that had plagued me since childhood seemed to vanish overnight. Not a single snide remark, not a single pointed finger. The silence was deafening, and yet, strangely comforting.
Was it fear of Mattheo, or something more? Either way, I didn't question my newfound peace.
The stolen moments with Mattheo became a cherished secret language.
One particularly rainy evening, after a long and tedious double Potions lesson, Mattheo found me huddled in the deserted library, desperately trying (and failing) to decipher a particularly cryptic passage in a dusty old tome.
"Having trouble with the love language of Goblins, love?" he drawled, his voice a welcome sound in the quiet of the library.
I looked up, startled, my cheeks flushing at the sight of him. "Mattheo, you scared me!"
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just offering my expertise in the finer points of ancient languages," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
He pulled up a chair next to me, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. As he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he attempted to translate the passage, a spark ignited between us.
Emboldened by the privacy of the deserted library and the frustration of the Gobbledegook text, I turned to face him, my lips brushing against his ear as I pointed to a particularly confusing line.
Suddenly, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Mattheo's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze held mine, a storm brewing in its depths.
"There's another way to learn this language," he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed longing.
Before I could respond, he closed the gap between us. The kiss was different this time. It was slow, searing, filled with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine. It was a kiss that spoke not just of affection, but of a growing possessiveness, a silent claim on my heart.
We pulled away breathlessly, foreheads resting together. The quiet of the library thrummed with the intensity of the unspoken words hanging in the air.
"Maybe Gobbledegook isn't so bad after all," I finally whispered, a shy smile playing on my lips.
Mattheo chuckled, a deep sound that resonated within me. "Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer than necessary.
One blustery afternoon, while seeking refuge from a sudden downpour in a hidden alcove near the greenhouses, we found ourselves alone. The air crackled with unspoken tension as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the stone walls.
He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering from my face to the storm raging outside. "This weather is something else, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind.
"Unpredictable, like magic itself," I replied, my own voice barely a murmur.
Suddenly, he turned to face me, his eyes a storm brewing within them. Before I could react, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The space between us evaporated as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.
"You're unpredictable too, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with something raw and primal. "In the best way possible."
And then, he kissed me. It was a kiss unlike any I'd ever experienced. It was fierce and passionate, filled with a yearning that mirrored my own.
I was hunched over a particularly dense text on Herbology, wrestling with the intricacies of magical plant growth, when a shadow fell across the page.
Looking up, I met Mattheo's gaze, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "Lost in the world of Venomous Tentacula again, love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.
I swatted playfully at his hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "These Bulbadox Bulbs are more stubborn than they look," I grumbled.
He chuckled, leaning closer. "Maybe they just need the right touch," he murmured, his breath warm on my ear.
Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the offending passage. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my heart skipping a beat. He lingered for a moment too long, his touch sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.
"See?" he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sometimes understanding comes from a different kind of connection."
His words were a playful jab, but the intensity of his gaze held a deeper meaning. I felt my cheeks flush, a secret smile spreading across my face.
"Maybe," I replied, unable to tear my gaze from his.
The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Mattheo leaned in further. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me.
It was a soft, lingering exploration. He trailed a finger down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my exposed skin. My breath hitched in my throat, and I leaned back into his touch, a helpless moan escaping my lips.
He chuckled against my skin, a low, throaty sound that sent a delicious tremor through me. "You should see the way you blush, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
My cheeks burned even hotter. This wasn't the stolen kiss under the moonlight, this was something more intimate, more raw. It was a secret shared between us, a confirmation of the growing connection that thrummed beneath the surface.
Suddenly, the library door slammed open, shattering the intimate moment. Madam Pince, the stern librarian, swept in, her beady eyes scanning the room. Mattheo and I both straightened up, a sheepish grin on his face.
"No hanky-panky in the Restricted Section, young man," Madam Pince barked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Mattheo, ever the charmer, flashed her a boyish grin. "Just helping a friend with her research, Madam Pince," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.
Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at us for a moment longer before muttering something about "frivolous students" and disappearing behind a towering bookshelf.
As soon as she was gone, Mattheo let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like we've been caught," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.
I couldn't help but laugh, the tension broken. "Maybe we should stick to the Herbology section next time," I teased, butterflies still fluttering in my stomach from his touch.
He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Maybe," he agreed, his eyes holding mine. "But who knows what secrets lurk in the Restricted Section?"
Suddenly, a voice broke through my concentration. "Y/N!"
I looked up to see Charlie Spinnet standing awkwardly in front of me, a hopeful smile plastered on his face. My stomach lurched, a flicker of unease coursing through me.
"Charlie," I stammered, unsure of what to say.
"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Before I could answer, mattheo’s voice cut in, laced with a dangerous edge.
"Actually, she can't," Mattheo drawled, His eyes narrowed at Charlie, a dark glint flickering within them.
Charlie gulped, his hopeful smile faltering. "M-Mattheo," he stammered. "I just wanted to…"
"Whatever it is," Mattheo interrupted, his voice low and cold, "it can wait."
The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught between the awkwardness of Charlie's unexpected presence and the possessiveness radiating from Mattheo.
"But—" Charlie began, but Mattheo cut him off again.
"No buts, Spinnet," Mattheo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse us,"
He took my hand possessively, his fingers wrapping around mine with a force that left no room for argument. Before Charlie could stammer another word, Mattheo practically dragged me away.
We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound our hurried footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. My cheeks burned with a mixture of annoyance and a strange sense of… satisfaction?
"Mattheo, that was a bit harsh," I finally said, breaking the silence.
He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, a storm brewing within its depths.
"He shouldn't have bothered you," he said, his voice low and possessive.
"He was just trying to talk to me," I pointed out, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.
"And what exactly did he want to talk about?" Mattheo challenged, his jaw clenched.
"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "But I should have been allowed to find out, shouldn't I?"
Mattheo seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away.
"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I just… don't like the idea of someone else getting close to you."
My heart skipped a beat. Was he… jealous?
"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips.
He hesitated – a rare sight that sent a thrill through me.
"Because…" he stammered, searching for the right words. "Because maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit."
The words hung in the air. A smile bloomed on my face, wider than it had in weeks.
"Is that so, Riddle?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. Leaning in closer, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face with his thumb.
"Maybe it is," he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine.
Before we could explore that maybe any further, a loud cough echoed through the corridor. We sprang apart, startled, to see a smirking Enzo leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.
"Oh please don’t let me stop you ," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Mattheo scowled, his usual bravado returning. "Get lost, Enzo," he snapped.
Enzo, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Just making sure you're not neglecting your studies, brother dearest," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Professor Flitwick wouldn't be happy if he caught you missing his lecture because you can’t keep your hands to yourself those days "
My cheeks burned even hotter. "We weren't… ," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Enzo chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart . But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Though, if you're looking for a more private place next time, I know a few hidden alcoves that are perfect for… well, you get the idea."
"Thanks, Enzo," I said smiling trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible .
"Anytime," he replied, throwing a playful two-finger salute before disappearing back down the corridor.
Mattheo and I stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick in the air.
"I think I need to go …" I began, unsure how to proceed “ see you at ummm….”
"...Great Hall," Mattheo finished my sentence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Though his earlier possessiveness had surprised me, I couldn't deny a flicker of warmth at his reluctance to see me go.
"Yeah, the Great Hall," I confirmed, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The lingering confession, the stolen moment almost-kiss, hung heavy between us.
As I sank deeper into the worn armchair, a group of giggling Gryffindor girls approached, their chatter drawing my attention.
"Y/N!" Lavender Brown announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Did you hear? There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tonight!"
My heart skipped a beat. A lunar eclipse? A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. For the first time in years, I hadn't even been aware of such an event. But more importantly, they were inviting me.
Parvati Patil chimed in, her dark eyes sparkling. "We're all planning to gather near the lake to watch. It's supposed to be incredible! Are you coming?"
"I…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.
"Oh, come on, Y/N," Padma, Parvati's twin, nudged me playfully. "It'll be fun! We can all gossip and make wishes under the moonlight."
A lump formed in my throat. It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. An invitation to not just witness a celestial phenomenon, but to be included, to be a part of something.
For a moment, I simply stared at them, my mind struggling to process the shift. Was this real? Did they genuinely want me to join them?
"I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe…"
"Don't worry, Y/N," Lavender reassured me, sensing my hesitation. "It's up to you. But if you do decide to come, we'd love to have you."
With a warm smile, they turned to leave, their excited chatter fading as they descended the stairs. I watched them go, a wave of indecisiveness washing over me.
The rest of day went by quickly as I was still thinking about the invitation then mattheo I looked around searching for him
I spotted him by the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar, his usual air of nonchalance masking a hint of concern. As I approached, he pushed himself off the pillar and met my gaze.
"Hey," he said, his voice laced with a question as his eyes scanned my face.
"Hi, Mattheo," I replied hesitantly.
"Everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eye with a gentle touch .
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight, did you know?"
He blinked, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "A lunar eclipse?" he echoed.
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Apparently, it's supposed to be the biggest one in years. Everyone's going down by the Black Lake to watch it."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone, huh?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Well," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush, "not everyone. But some people. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil invited me, and…"
I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Did I dare ask him to join me?
"And?" Mattheo prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"And," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes, "I was wondering… would you maybe want to come with me?"
The playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "With you?" he echoed.
I looked back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to, of course."
He held my gaze for a long moment, the silence stretching between us. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warm and genuine.
"I'd like that very much, love ," he said, his voice a low rumble.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, I made my way towards the Black Lake. The crisp autumn air buzzed with excited chatter as students from all houses gathered, blankets and snacks in tow, eager to witness the celestial spectacle.
A warm hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my system. Turning, I met Mattheo's gaze, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. He wore a casual smirk, but the way his hand lingered on mine spoke volumes.
he breathed, taking in the scene before him. "Didn't expect the whole school to be here."
I chuckled. "Apparently, lunar eclipses are kind of a big deal."
We weaved through the crowd, Lavender and Parvati waving to us over Theo , Enzo even Blaise was there too that was really unexpected . We settled in, surrounded by the cheerful chatter and laughter.
As the moon began to cast its silvery glow, a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned their eyes skyward, captivated by the gradual darkening of Earth's natural satellite. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me than the moon. His hand brushed mine again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.
Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and warm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. "It is," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, his voice dipped even lower.
"come with me. "
The surprise on my face must have been evident. "Where?" I stammered.
he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."
We walked for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the bushes. The air grew thicker the deeper we ventured, and a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Mattheo came to a stop in front of a section of gnarled oak trees, their branches intertwined in an almost unnatural way.
"Here?" I asked, eyeing the dense foliage with suspicion.
He smirked, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy. "Here," he confirmed, stepping forward and pushing aside a thick curtain woven from the very leaves themselves.
To my astonishment, a hidden passage unfolded behind the makeshift doorway. A narrow path, barely wide enough for two people, stretched into the darkness, illuminated faintly by glowing mushrooms that dotted the damp stone walls.
My initial apprehension warred with the budding trust I felt for Mattheo. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his hand tighter. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Just trust me," he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.
We walked in silence, the air growing colder and the earthy scent more pronounced. The path eventually led to a sturdy wooden door hidden within the rocky wall. Mattheo pushed it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away.
It was a small, circular room, but its crowning glory was a large, arched window that took up most of one wall. Through it, the eclipse was on full display, the shadowed moon hanging in the inky black sky. But unlike the darkness of the forest, here, the view was clear and breathtaking
I breathed, my surprise echoing in the stillness of the night.
Mattheo chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you it was worth it."
"This is…" I stammered, searching for the right words. "Amazing."
Mattheo smiled, his hand moving to brush a stray curl from my face. “We found this place a while back," he explained. "It's kind of a secret."
He pulled me towards the window, his arm wrapping around my waist, stood behind me , gazing up at the celestial phenomenon unfolding above us. The darkness, once menacing, now seemed like a vast, inky canvas upon which the eclipse played out.
"It's even more breathtaking from here, isn't it?" Mattheo whispered, his voice warm against my ear. , his words laced with something more than just the wonder of the eclipse.
I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. The beauty of the celestial spectacle was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to the feelings Mattheo was stirring within me.
A warmth bloomed in my chest, a response that surprised even me. Mattheo's presence, so close and unexpected in this hidden haven, sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
As if sensing my shift, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the crackling fire.
Then, his lips brushed against my ear again. This time, the words were different. Softer, more intimate. "You're even more breathtaking," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my neck.
My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze reflected in the moonlight filtering through the window. The eclipse, forgotten for a moment, seemed to cast an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.
Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips met mine. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that sent a wave of warmth through me. Instinctively, I reached up, my fingers finding purchase on his arm.
A contented sigh escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. The touch sent a jolt through me, a current of electricity that ignited a fire within.
When he finally pulled away, a breathless gasp escaped my lips. My cheeks burned, my heart hammered a wild rhythm against my ribs. A shy smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
His gaze never left mine.He leaned down again, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. He paused at a sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
Unable to hold back a moan, I arched my neck into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached down, skimming the curve of my hip before settling lightly on my lower back as I felt the wall behind us
He was going to stop I know that he was going to hold back again "Wait," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Looking into his eyes, I saw a storm of emotions – frustration, amusement. It was a look that made my heart skip a beat, a look that made me feel a dangerous mix of power and surrender.
"I want to " I stammered, unsure how to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me.
"You sure?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "I want this, Mattheo. I mean…I've never done this before, but I trust you. And I want it."
"Let's take things slow, alright?" He whispered softly in my ear and i nodded, his lips finding their way back to my neck, tracing over the mark he had just left behind.
"Mattheo," I moaned when he nipped at the same spot again, his teeth sharp and his lips unyielding.
"God my name sounds like heaven from your lips" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.
"Have you ever touched yourself, love?" His question caught me off guard, my breath catching in my throat as I shook my head. I had wanted to try but never mustered the courage.
"It's okay, my love," he reassured, his hands sliding under my top, caressing my skin with a tender touch that sent shivers down my spine.Then he gently pushed me up, settling me on the nearest table. "I'll take care of you."
Pressing more kisses to my neck, his hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he lifted my skirt slightly. "Is this alright?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck.I smiled at him and nodded again
“I’m going to touch you now, Just tell me when you want to stop, and I promise I’ll end it,” said with determination, his fingers brushing my cheek i nodded leaned forward to kiss him instead of just responding.
He did as he told , his fingers sliding into my pants proceeded slowly, finding my most sensitive spot, eliciting pleasurable sensations that made me arch my back and cling to him.
slowly rubbing circles around it. He used light pressure, but it felt amazing. His gaze intently watched my response, figuring out what i like.
He picked up the pace and pressure, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. my back arched as the ache between my legs increased. 
“God you’re so wet for me." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Does it feel good?"
“ Yes , it feels so good.” I moaned softly, my voice barely audible as waves of pleasure washed over me.
"Can I?" he asked, seeking my consent.
"Yes, please," I begged, my desperation evident in my voice.
"It might feel strange at first, but I promise it will get better quickly," he reassured, and I nodded in agreement. With my consent, his finger slid between my folds, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My hands found their way to his shoulders as I rested my head against them.
"Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of pleasure. I obeyed, inhaling deeply as a symphony of moans escaped my mouth, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through my body.
"Mattheo," I moaned, his name a mantra on my lips.
"Yes, love. Talk to me," he encouraged, his movements slowing to allow me to catch my breath.
"There's something..." I tried to say, but pleasure engulfed me, leaving me speechless.
His lips found mine, his kisses distracting me from my thoughts as I succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he offered.
"Just let go for me," he whispered against my lips, his breath igniting a fire within me that sent me spiraling into bliss.
His thumb applied pressure to my clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his shoulder tightly as he carefully added another finger, causing me to close my eyes in ecstasy.
"Don't close your eyes, love. Look at me," he urged, his voice filled with desire and a hint of command. I obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers found that specific spot inside me, unleashing a sensation I had never experienced before. It was so intense that I couldn't contain my scream of pleasure, feeling like I was soaring among the clouds.
He continued to target that spot, his gaze fixed on me as if he could read my every reaction. With a satisfied smile, he spoke soft words in my ear , reveling in my response.
His touch remained gentle yet firm, guiding me through the waves of pleasure until I reached the pinnacle, my body trembling in his embrace as I experienced a euphoric release unlike anything before.
"It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, his words a soothing balm as I surrendered to the pleasure that consumed me.
As I floated back to reality, I found myself in his arms, his gaze filled with tenderness and adoration. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.
"Maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit too , riddle," I repeated his earlier words. But what I truly wanted to express was that, ,I think I'm in love with you, Mattheo Riddle.’
From that night onward, everything shifted, and my life transformed into a fairy tale. The intensity of my feelings for him grew so profound that a day without seeing Mattheo felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence. He cherished me as if I were the most precious gem in his life, and to say that I loved him would be an understatement; my emotions ran deeper than mere words could express.
Despite our unspoken declarations of love, we refrained from exploring further sexual intimacy after that intense encounter. However, the desire and longing between us only grew stronger, leaving me yearning for more moments of intimacy with him. Each kiss, touch, and gaze across the room spoke volumes of the love we shared, even if the three words were never verbalized.
The end-of-year party hosted by Slytherin was a legendary affair, whispered about in hushed tones by those who had attended in previous years. Despite hearing countless tales about the extravagant festivities, I had never been tempted to go, for me, it had always been an off-limits fantasy , one I didn't dare to try and make true.
As the "jinx girl", stepping foot into such a renowned event felt like a risky move. The thought of facing judgment, scrutiny, and potentially being ostracized by my peers held me back from even considering attending.
However, in those few months everything changed. I found myself shedding my inhibitions and fears, stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing new experiences. The bonds I formed with other Slytherins grew stronger, and I even made friends outside of Mattheo's circle, feeling more at ease and confident in social settings.
The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was as legendary as the end-of-year party itself. This year, however, a shared misfortune had united the two houses in a grudging camaraderie. Professor Flitwick, bless his innocent heart, had stumbled upon Blaise Zabini and a very surprised Gryffindor tangled together in a rather compromising position in a dusty basement corridor. Let's just say, both houses lost a significant number of points, paving the way for Ravenclaw to snatch the coveted House Cup in a landslide victory.
So, as the day of the party approached, a thrill of anticipation danced in my stomach.
"Mattheo," I said, catching his attention as I approached him and his friends. He gently guided me to sit next to him, holding my hands with a tender touch
“ yes love ? “
"Are we… are we going to the party tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.
He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "The party?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You… you want to go?"
I felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but I held his gaze. "Yeah," I admitted.
“Honestly, Y/N," he said, "it's a bit… childish."
"Childish?" I repeated, surprised. "But everyone says it's a lot of fun!"
Enzo, chimed in with a shrug. "He has a point. It's mostly just first years causing mayhem."
There it was , that hesitation. Mattheo rarely said no to anything I asked.
He studied me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He glanced at Enzo, exchanging a silent communication that left me puzzled.I don’t really understand I know they used to go every year .
He looked at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Alright then love ," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you want to, then we'll go."
The Slytherin common room was a whirlwind of emerald and silver. Green streamers snaked across the ceiling, enchanted banners proclaimed Slytherin victory in various forgotten contests, and a cacophony of music and laughter filled the air. My heart pounded with excitement, a delightful mix of anticipation and nerves.
The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with laughter and music. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me there, chatting and mingling as if I had been a regular attendee for years.
However, what struck me as odd was how Mattheo and Enzo never left my side. It was as if they were guarding me, anticipating something that I wasn't aware of. Despite their usual easygoing demeanor, there was a sense of alertness in their actions that left me curious and slightly uneasy.
As the night progressed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, not in a malicious way, but more like a protective gaze. Mattheo and Enzo's constant presence by my side felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time.
I tried to brush off my unease and enjoy the party, engaging in conversations and joining in on the festivities. However, the nagging feeling that something was amiss lingered in the back of my mind.
It wasn't until later in the evening, when Mattheo and Enzo exchanged a meaningful glance, that I realized there was more to their protective behavior than met the eye.
Chaos erupted in the common room as Charlie Spinnet, stormed towards Mattheo. "Get her out of here now ," he growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Or I'll do it myself."
Before Mattheo could respond, the room fell silent. A Slytherin seventh-year, Adrian Pucey, stood on a nearby table, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hold on there, Spinnet ," he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension. "This year, we're doing something a little different… a play!"
A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, many of them eager for a change from the usual prank wars. Mattheo , however, remained unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes at Adrian, suspicion etched on his face.
As the play began, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between my name and the name of the girl portrayed in the story. It didn't take long for me to realize that the play was about a jinxing girl, and it described in vivid detail everything I had confided in Mattheo about my family and my troubled past at the lake that night.
Panic clawed at my throat. I stole a glance at Mattheo, but his face was a mask. He reached out a hand towards me, but I flinched back instinctively .
The room fell silent, every eye glued to me and the unfolding drama.
Onstage, the actress portraying me continued, her voice dripping with drama. "…driven by ambition, she stole her brother's place, but a terrible curse followed. Wherever she goes, misfortune befalls those around her. She's the jinx girl, a harbinger of bad luck!"
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Whispers erupted like flames, spreading fear and suspicion. I felt them scorching my skin, their judgment a suffocating weight on my chest.
Suddenly, a new scene unfolded on stage. A group of actors, portraying Hogwarts students, stood center stage. "Here's the dare," boomed one, a mock sense of bravery in his voice. "The boy who approaches the jinx girl and brings her to the party… wins!"
Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Enzo and Theodore Nott , their faces grim, pushed their way through the crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Stop this!" Enzo said, his voice laced with fury. "This is out of line, Pucey!"
The actors scrambled off the stage, bewildered and slightly scared. The common room dissolved into chaos. Accusatory whispers turned into heated arguments. Pity and fear flickered in averted gazes. I even overheard someone mutter, "Did she really kill her brother?"
The roar of the party faded behind me as I sprinted down the Slytherin common room's hidden corridor, tears stinging my eyes despite my desperate efforts to hold them back. Mattheo's voice calling after me, pleading, only fueled my desperate need to escape.
"Y/N, please!" he shouted, but I ignored him, my feet pounding a relentless rhythm against the cold stone floor.
"Y/N!" he called again, his voice closer this time. Panic surged through me, lending me fresh bursts of energy.
Just as I reached the portrait leading out to the dungeons, a strong hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around, ready to lash out, but it was him – Mattheo, his face etched with a desperate worry I'd never seen before.
He tried to reach for my hand, but I recoiled violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw with hurt and betrayal.
He flinched, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. "Y/N, love, just hear me out," he pleaded.
"Love?" I spat the word back at him, incredulous. "Don't call me that." The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on me. The staged play, the public humiliation, the sickening realization that it had all been a dare.
"It's not what it seems like," he stammered, trying to explain. "I—"
"You what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? "
"No, no, I swear," he said urgently. "Everything that happened between us was real. My feelings for you…" His voice trailed off, his eyes pleading for me to understand.
But the damage was done. The carefully constructed trust – it had all crumbled to dust in the face of this cruel betrayal.
"Don't," I choked out, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Don't lie to me anymore."
A sob escaped my lips, and despite the anger burning within me, a part of me ached for the connection I thought we shared.
"Just give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, but I shook my head, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.
The truth, however distorted, was clear. "Wouldn't you deny it was a dare?" I challenged him, a flicker of defiance sparking in my tear-filled eyes.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine pain cross Mattheo's usually guarded features.
"No," he finally admitted, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me.
As I turned to walk away, he continued, "It was at first, but I swear that from that night at the Broomsticks, everything was real. I even forgot about that stupid dare. Everything that happened between us was real, you know that."
I scoffed, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don't know anything anymore," I said.
"Foolish me. That's why you didn't want Charlie to talk to me that day, wasn't it? Because he was going to expose you?"
""No, Y/N, I just didn't want you to get hurt __“
"You what?" I cut him off again, my voice trembling with fury. "How generous of you," I said sarcastically. "But look, you win now, Riddle. Won't you go celebrate? It was their dare,"
"I don't care about anyone else but you," he said fiercely.
I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why does it feel like you care about everything else more than me right now?"
He took a hesitant step forward, but I didn't back away this time. I met his gaze head-on, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.
"You already have," I said, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.
"I ___ i love you," he confessed, the words hanging heavy in the air.
Love. The very word felt like a mockery.
I looked him straight in the eye, my voice surprisingly calm despite the storm raging within me. "And I hate you, Mattheo Riddle," I said, each word laced with the bitter taste of betrayal.
With that final declaration, I turned away, leaving him standing alone in the darkened corridor, the portrait swinging shut behind me.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
1K notes · View notes
teamatsumu · 6 months
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CRUSH (ushijima wakatoshi x reader)
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summary: wakatoshi has a crush.
word count: 720
warnings: fem!reader, its all just fluff
tags: @keiva1000
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Ushijima knows he has fans. He might be simple-minded and a little oblivious, but he’s not stupid.
He knows girls stare at him from the balcony during practice. And he can hear their giggling when he passes them in the halls. Tendou often calls him Shiratorizawa’s Golden Boy, which Ushijima wholeheartedly disagrees with, but never voices out loud. Tendou often says strange things. He doesn’t mind.
Ushijima doesn’t understand his popularity. Sure, he is a good player. The best ace in the prefecture. But most of these girls have no understanding of volleyball. So why are they spending hours upon hours in the stands, watching him play?
“They’re not watching the match, Wakatoshi-kun. They are watching you.”
Hm. Strange. His play is very consistent. Watching him do the same thing over and over has to get boring, especially when they aren’t watching for the sake of the game.
But then he sees you for the first time.
You are in his third year English class. In his three years of high school, Ushijima is sure he has never seen you before. Because if he had, there was no way he would forget you.
He is curious. And a little enamored by you.
You are, by all means, a regular girl. You sit on the same chair every day, bring your own bento instead of eating from the cafeteria. It is always wrapped in a pretty multicolored patterned cloth, done up in a knot on top. You have a small stuffed cat chain on the zipper of your backpack. And you wear your hair differently every day. Some days it is tied up, some days it is let down. And some days it is half-up and half-down. You have one pink bunny hairclip that you wear maybe once every two or three days that Ushijima thinks is very cute. Your uniform is always immaculate.
There are so many tiny details about you that Ushijima has learned, and he finally understands why girls would stay hanging over the gym balcony to watch him for hours, because he could watch you for hours too.
You are very smart, he could tell. You always answer correctly when the teacher would call on you, and he has glimpsed at your notes. Simple, but neat and easy to understand, just the way he likes it. There are no crazy colors and highlighters, and your handwriting is neat and beautiful, just like the rest of you.
You are also quiet. You have a select group of friends that you talk to, and while you are nice to anyone who interacts with you, you don't go out of your way to stand out. Again, Ushijima loves that. It seems he loved everything about you. All the minor details that make you a little bit more unique to everyone else.
When you show up at his game, he nearly loses his focus.
It in’t an important game by any means, just a practice match with another local university team. So why are you here? Have your friends dragged you along? Or are you here by your own volition? Ushijima feels how sweaty his palms are when he clenches his fists, and it surprises him.
Is he….. nervous?
Why? Because you are watching? How ridiculous. Ushijima has never once doubted his own strength, or his ability to win. How could your presence alter that? The thought annoys him, and he is determined to prove that you being here would not be a hindrance to his play.
Turns out, he needn't have worried. It seems your presence had sharpened his senses more than ever. Shiratorizawa won in straight sets, and of the 50 points they scored, 39 had been from Ushijima’s hand.
“You were on fire today, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou comments as the final whistle rings. Ushijima unintentionally glances at you in the stands, cheering for the team. Cheering for him.
His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he doesn’t think it is because of the game he had just played. He hears Tendou let out a dreamy sigh.
“Ah, the miracles of having a crush.”
He feels his lips tick up in a tiny smile as he throws a towel over his shoulders. Tendou is wrong. Ushijima doesn’t think he has a crush.
He thinks he is in love.
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3K notes · View notes
heetos · 2 months
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plushies and headsets? ・゚゚・。
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pairing- best friend!heeseung x tiny!afab!reader
synopsis - no one expected that a mall trip with your best friend, where you spot your favorite plushy store, could end up in him making you cum all over his sheets.
tw - size kink (he's huge), tiny reader, plushy humping, masturbation, cursing, use of nicknames, best friends down bad, lmk if i missed something!!!
word count - 1.9k
a/n - stop i hate this aahhh!!! seems like u guys like huge hee n soft toys ;) i love making manly guys crazy for girly girls.. pls lmk your thoughts rahh :3
taglist - @whowantshota
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as the weekends roll around, you find yourself at heeseung's house, watching him furiously click away on his keyboard.
you know he's your best friend, but he looks ethereal like this. messy hair from his headset moving around, his bangs a little sweaty from the match, his shirt sitting perfect on top of him, his thighs spread out on his chair as he cusses at his screen.
"fuck" he hisses, missing another hit as his eyes remain glued to his screen.
you know he's your best friend, but why do you clench your thighs together whenever he cusses?
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heeseung's a big guy, much much larger than you. his hands, twice the size of your small ones, his face, beyond your reach.
"hee!!" you pout and look up at him after reapplying your lip gloss, eyes twinkling, batting your pretty eyelashes up at him. "is it too much..?"
to say heeseung is in love is an understatement. he's in awe as he finds himself zoned out looking at your tiny figure under him. he just wants to put his arms around your tiny waist, pick you up and kiss the lip gloss off your lips.
"hee..?" you whisper, blinking up at him, you find him zoned out with his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"oh... y-yeah.. looks great.." he manages to say, turning his eyes away from you to look at the plushie store. "why do you even need that, just lick your lips, same effect"
"ay! stop i paid $45 for this!!" your small fists land a punch at his muscular arm. you look at where his eyes are fixated, making you gasp. "plushies! i need to buy a new one!" you grab his arm, dragging him to the store as you run towards it, your cute little skirt riding upwards at your excitement.
heeseung feels warmth rush to his cheeks as he sees your tiny fingers struggle to grip onto his arm. your giggly state slowly making him lose his character.
your eyes sparkle as you enter the store, looking around for various types of plushies. "why do you even need these??, you've got like 4 already!" he huffs biting down his smile that naturally spreads across his face looking at you. "they're just full of cotton if didn't you know"
"woahh! i didn't know, i've been buying ones full of rocks all this while" you grit your teeth at him and slap his arm as he winces in pain.
"ugh you've got way too much strength for your tiny ass" he rolls his eyes and goes back to his phone, moving his thumbs around his screen, distracting himself from getting smitten by you.
25 minutes later, and you're still picking out the perfect new plush. debating weather you should get the cute strawberry one or the panda one. "heeseungggggg!!!"
"what" his blunt tone makes you pout up at him. when he removes his eyes from his phone, he chuckles loudly as his eyes meet your figure, completely hidden by the two large plushies in your arms.
"whatt!!" your voice comes out muffled behind the toys.
"nothing you look stupid as hell, what's taking you so long?"
"help me pick!!! they're both too cute!!" you tiptoe your way out of the plushies to look up at him properly.
"i literally saw a panda with a strawberry plush on your desk the other day" he sighs "just wait outside, i'll pick one out for you yeah?"
"really?" your eyes widen as you give him the biggest smile. "you better not pick an ugly one or else i'll beat you into a plush right here"
"fine geez i'll pick something 'cute' " he says visibly cringing at himself. taking the plushies out of your arms, smiling at how they now appear normal sized in his hold, he notices you walking out and opening your phone to call someone.
"fuck she's so cute" he mutters under his breath as he scans the store. maybe he's doing this for himself, just trying to get home quicker, but deep down he knows he's fucked with the way you jump excitedly.
"cute? what's cute..." with his hands in his pockets, he looks at some of them, imagining your cunt grinding against it. lewd thoughts flood his head even when he's trying not to think about you like that. "ugh i'll just get this weird ass bear" he pays for it quickly, rushing back to you.
"here idiot, take it" he hands the normal sized bear over to you while looking away.
"oh my god!!! hee!!!" you gasp, jumping up and down smiling and hugging the bear which almost covers your face. "it's adorable! i didn't think of this!!"
oh he's gone, he's so gone, he's so in love and is so visibly blushing at you. blood rushes to his cock once you jump up and down with it, "told you you'd like it" he chuckles, holding you down. "let's get home now i'll miss my game"
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you're now sitting on his bed, with your new bear in your hand as you watch heeseung from afar. you tilt your head like a puppy, looking at heeseung grunt and cuss at his screen, the movements of his fingers on the keyboard speeding up. "goddamn he's hot.." you mutter under your breath, trying to distract yourself from the heat thats beginning to build between your legs.
"ah fuck yes" he growls and runs his hands through his hair, putting his headphones back on as he makes a headshot.
the moment he curses, you find yourself slowly bringing your bear down in between your legs, trying to relieve some tension. "oh shit.." you whisper softly as you shudder from the sudden pleasure.
subconsciously, you wrap your legs around the soft plush and push your hips into it. you gasp as you let out a sudden soft moan at the feeling. you're so lost in the pleasure the soft bear is giving to your clit that you don't notice heeseung's mouth wide open staring at you.
"you have some nerve doing that in my bed" he scoffs, removing his headset as he adjusts himself in his chair, spreading his legs. he eyes full of lust as he fixates on your tiny body squirming in his bed.
heat rushes to your cheeks when you notice him getting comfortable to watch you. you feel yourself getting embarrassingly wet as his eyes land at where your cunt meets the bear. its exactly what he imagined, his lewd thoughts are finally coming to life. you're grinding against the bear he bought for you? in his room? looking at him?
"baby...go ahead and strip for me?"
its embarrassing how fast you comply, getting up and swiftly taking your shirt off, sliding down your shorts until you're left with a pink lace bra and baby pink underwear. "hee... what do you what me to do baby..?"
its crazy how fast the tension in the room shifted. two seconds ago you were squeezing your thighs together at him and now he's commanding you to get off. heeseung mutters out a soft moan when he sees your perfect tiny body, your pretty lips pouting at him, waiting for him to corrupt you. his hands slowly reach his pants, your eagerness going straight to his cock. "show me how you get off on it doll "
your cheeks flush red at his order. you bite your bottom lip as you tug your panties off. he groans when he sees a string of your arousal sticking to it. you slowly raise your hips as you keep the plush between your legs. the soft material coming in direct contact with your clit makes you roll your eyes back as you position yourself over it, lowering yourself slowly onto the fabric. "like this hee..?"
"oh fuck yeah' just like that baby" he throws his head back at the site, his cock twitching in anticipation. "you're so fuckin' cute baby" he whispers hoarsely. the precum stain forming a patch and deepening the color of his grey sweatpants.
you begin to grind your hips against the pillow, moaning softly as you watch his huge cock become visibly hard under his pants. "a-ah f-fuck..hee.. feels s-so good.." you whimper, eyes shut as you hump your plushy, putting on a show for him.
he watches every move of yours with hooded eyes, his tongue licking his lips as he draws his hand towards his cock, growing painfully hard by second. "oh you're so so sexy" he moans out as his hand comes in contact with his dick. "you-fuck-drive me fuckin' crazy princess" he growls as he throws his head back, squeezing his aching tip.
you lean forward, supporting yourself with one hand while using the other to grip the head of the plush. "n-gh一fuck-d-does it.. does it feel g-good for you too heeseung..?" you moan out his name opening your eyes and looking directly into his hooded eyes.
"fuck baby yeah' feels so good" his name has never sounded so fucking good coming from someone. something about your tiny fucking body humping his on huge fucking bed while moaning his fucking name sends him into a frenzy. he bites his lips as he looks directly into your eyes. "oh fuck sake" he mutters quickly as he removes his sweatpants and slides his boxers down. his dick rock solid as he trails his huge palm over it. "a-h baby.. you're s-so fuckin' hot" he barely lets out, his eyes focused on every single movement of your tiny body fucking yourself on a plush.
eyes widening, you gasp as you watch heeseung take his pants off, revealing his huge. fucking. cock. with a blood red tip aching to cum. you almost fall over with the image of his cock right in front of you. "fuck一 you're s-so huge.." you whine as you regain your balance and shut your eyes, riding the plush as if your life depends on it. you rock your hips back and forth rhythmically, the material soaked with your arousal, creating friction against your clit as you feel the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten. you move your tiny hands over to your tits as you speed up your movements.
"god fuckk" heeseung moans at the site, his hard cock covered in precum as he jerks himself up and down slowly, trying to match your rhythm. "shit一ah- cum for me doll" he groans loudly as he watches you rut against the plushy desperately. he has never wanted to be a piece of cotton so bad. he wants to be under you, he wants his face to be under you. he wants you to grind yourself down on his face, suffocate him, cum all over his face. "make a -fuck- make a mess baby" he groans out loud as he watches you edge closer and closer to your orgasm.
your body jerks forward as you grope your tit harshly. "f-fuckkkk.. h-heeseung!! -ah- 'm gnna cum!" drool spilling from your mouth, you look at him and let out a loud pornographic moan as you cum undone on the plushy.
your tiny body feeling weak from the intense orgasm, you fall on his bed but he catches you before you could hit the bed. "hee..." you whine breathlessly as your chest heaves up and down. he hovers over you, his huge body towering over your smaller one. he gently places a kiss on your forehead. "you're the prettiest and sexiest girl ever i swear to god" he smiles as his eyes turn over to the cum-covered abandoned plushy.
you flash him a soft smile, batting up your eyelashes at him, before feeling his rock hard dick grazing over your thigh.
"ready to get ruined by me now?"
end.
2K notes · View notes
gutsby · 2 months
Text
Cabin Fever
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Pairing: Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader
Summary: Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.
Warnings: 18+. DEAD DOVE: DNE. NONCONSENSUAL. I’m never ever beating the insane bitch allegations, I fear. Protector-turned-pervert-turned-unwilling-captor-kinda. Corruption kink. Daddy kink. Somnophilia. Misogyny. “It’s too big; it won’t fit” + Joel “I’ll make it fit” Miller. Captivity on both ends. Oral (f!receiving). Gunplay. Oversimplified first-time anal. Uno Reverse Drugging. Evil, inexperienced reader meets evil, feral, slutty Joel. Attempted murder x3. Russian Roulette…as foreplay?
Notes: Both characters SUCK. I condone nothing they do. Please do not take any of their behavior or language to reflect my own moral predilections. That is all 🚬😵‍💫
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You were hardly shaking at all when he’d found you chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains.
He didn’t see that every day, that was for-fucking-sure.
Joel Miller barely got to see his share of happy, grinning girls on the cold and bitter frontier he inhabited. Ones that were tied to posts and clinging to life were even less common, so the sight of you there had almost frightened him at first. He’d approached you like one might advance upon a sleeping bear: with the utmost caution and a Winchester Model 70 levelled directly at your head.
He’d learned you were unarmed and defenseless in less than a second. He’d come to realize you were largely unconscious—and unclothed—even sooner than that.
He had been industrious in freeing your hands and feet from their restraints but never uttered a word as he did.
Even on the two-and-a-half mile trek back home, he hadn’t spoken once. You’d hung off his left shoulder like a pretty, frosted slab of meat, covered only with the sherpa blanket he’d secured around your neck, and dangled precariously down his back for the entire fifty minutes.
Your toes were two shades shy of onyx with frostbite.
Your limbs were hanging like lead over his chest.
A whisper of, ‘You’ll be fine, darlin’, I promise’ had just seemed ill-suited for the circumstances and his nature. In truth, Joel didn’t know if you’d be fine. You might die. The blood wouldn’t be on his hands one way or the other, but he never had liked burying bodies this time of year. He’d have to wait until April to break ground, at least.
Presently, he dropped your limp form to the floor of his cabin and hoped he wouldn’t be needing to bury anyone.
You sort of looked charming in the firelight.
He stomped off to the kitchen and began rifling for pans, preparing to defrost the icy stranger as best he could.
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You didn’t die.
You didn’t wake for forty full hours, but you didn’t die.
When you stirred on the floor with warm sherpa around your shoulders and a rough calfskin rug under your ass, you thought you had died—maybe taken a pit stop in cowpoke purgatory while you were at it—but then you blinked. Breathed. Realized you were still very much inside your body and most likely still in Wyoming.
You sat up where you were and looked around.
“Da-a-d?”
You knew it was useless, calling for your father.
He had been dead almost eight months; you just wanted to double-check to make sure you were still on earth.
When dead dad didn’t answer, you tried someone else.
“Momma?”
Still no answer.
Figured, since she was among the ones that had left you chained outside in the first place. It’d been worth a shot.
You started to rise from your place, when a sharp pain in your side made you plop back down on the rug. You winced and lifted the blanket, then your old nightie.
A neat little taped-down bandage had your ribs encased in antiseptics and gauze. You frowned down at a stain in the centre, which looked to you an awful lot like blood. That circle of old fluids must’ve been twice the size of your fist and currently oozing tiny, fresh beads of blood from the strain you’d just exerted. You pursed your lips.
Least they could’ve done is kill me, not leave me here.
You’d take it up with your old would-be assassins another day, you were sure. Right now, you were parched, starving, in dire need of a piss, and reeling on the floor to grab hold of something sturdy to lift yourself. But you were as much a child then as you had ever been, swaying in place and clawing at air like someone who’d never kept their balance before. Or might’ve been drunk.
You rolled onto your good side and cast a sweeping look around the cabin. You smelled slow-cooked barbecue.
Thank fuck, you thought.
Now, if I were a juicy rack of ribs, where would I be?
The kitchen was dark and empty; the smell was coming from elsewhere. You craned your neck, tilted your chin, spotted a loft overhead but figured it wasn’t too likely to find someone grilling up there, so where the hell was it?
And who the hell was it, smoking meats and mending up strangers in the cold and lonely dead of winter like this?
You put a pin in that thought as you searched for a place to pee.
By the time you’d hobbled out of the bathroom, the smoky smell had grown even stronger. It was so pungent it bordered on vertiginous, invading every inch of the cabin with a force. Then it was leading you, teasing you by turns to venture outside. All you had on your feet were some oversized socks and two strips of medical tape.
Against your better judgment, you continued to hobble.
Out the door, down the steps, slowly, then following your nose and the first whiff of smoke you smelled to make it to the place you were almost certain you needed to be.
You trudged around a corner of the cabin’s exterior and stopped. Turned around. Cursed your own senses for being so stupid to miss the huge fucking shed spewing smoke out front—or was it the back?—and plodded on.
Your feet might have carried you a third of the way there before your powers of sight and sound eventually failed you again, and you missed another big something.
Big and beige and coated in snow—baring its teeth and snarling at the unfamiliar presence as soon as it saw you.
The next thing you knew, sixty-two pounds of Belgian Malinois had had you knocked to the ground in less than a second. You hardly understood what had hit you until it was barking and chomping away an inch from your face.
You fought hard and frantic to shove the ugly fucker off, but your bandaged hands were no match for its paws. The dog continued to tear at your blanket, nip at your ears, claw at your neck, and all around snuff out any sense of peace you might have acquired in the dozen-odd minutes since you’d first woken up. You screamed.
You yelled as loud as you could and felt yourself cower and sink lower into the snow as you fought.
Just when you tried to raise a knee—to kick the animal in the ribs or else protect your own—a sound broke out above the buzz.
A voice, clear as day:
“CUJO!”
The dog stalled on top of you a moment, just to be yanked off the next, and the closest thing afterward was a face—kinder than Cujo’s but not by very much.
It was a broad, bearded, pock-marked head with more soot to recommend itself than skin. Lips smeared with ash and grime and curved down in the single most decisive frown you’d seen in your life, the man looked to be beside himself seeing you tits up in the snow.
He gripped one arm of yours, then dropped it.
Picked a leg up, paused, then hauled you into a cradle carry as graceless as you’d ever felt it done before.
“Come!” he snapped, and it took you too long to realize that he was talking to the dog. You’d already wrapped your arms around his neck in abrupt complaisance.
He carried you back into the cabin and kicked the door open in front of you. He held you firm for a second, then, just as he had outside, changed course before you knew what to do and was shortly depositing you on the sofa.
You winced when your ass hit the cushion.
You started to sit, grab a pillow for your back or just bring your knees to your chest, when suddenly a palm was pressing flat on your front. Forcing you to lie down.
“Hey, hey!” you cried when the man started lifting the hem of your nightgown.
If he’d heard you at all, he didn’t show it. He just worked his thick, dirty fingers under the fabric and raised the white satin like he might the hood of a car. He frowned.
It was then that you noticed a blooming red splotch on your side, slowly overtaking the terra-cotta color of dried blood on the bandage and spreading out. Then a pain.
Instead of pushing the man’s hands away, you were holding them tight, wrestling that same touch which was trying to keep you from poking around the area now.
“Quit,” the man said, sedate as could be.
“Hurts,” was all you could think to tell him—and you guessed he’d already had that part down by the outpouring of blood. He shoved your hands off.
The brand new crimson hue had already soaked through the bandage. He pulled it off. You caught a glimpse of a wound that seemed to be weeping through its stitches—oozing pus and blood and a gore you could’ve gone your whole life without seeing. You would’ve liked to run a couple gentle, awed fingers over it, but as it was, your coarse and tight-lipped medic wouldn’t let you.
“Hold still,” he commanded.
“Heystopstopstop!” you implored him, feeling a streak of pain up your side as his calloused hands delved deeper.
At your latest flinch and plea, the man seemed to have had enough. Or just needed to angle your body in a different direction for easier access to the site. He gathered you back up in his arms and walked over to the kitchen, where he set you down again on the counter. Hands moved to your hips, briefly, to push you back on the surface and allow him to stand between your legs. Again, the man frowned as he peeled off your pyjamas.
Two warring fears of pain and overexposure fought like wild beasts in your brain for a second—you yelping and trying to cover your breasts in a hurry, then realizing how much it hurt to lift your arms that way when your ribs were dripping blood, then the man making the decision for you both as he pushed your hands behind your back and said a simple ‘Fuck’s sake’ to keep you pinned.
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it, and you let him continue, because you knew that you didn’t know shit about doing this yourself.
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Joel must’ve fixed your dressings fourteen times before turning you loose. He’d had you perched atop his counter like goddamned Prisoner-of-War Barbie, all riddled with bumps, bruises, and lesions galore, looked your body up and down just once, and nearly grew sick at the sight.
He’d disgusted himself by feeling as aroused as he was.
Shortly thereafter, he’d toted you off—before the blood could rush down to his dick and start to swell—shrugged your gown over your torso, and stepped away. Simple.
Then you’d had to go and throw a wrench in his plans.
“What if I need to pee?” you’d said as soon as Joel started up the stairs with you in his arms again.
He had meant to drop you off on the bed in the loft, out of sight, but it seemed you were more concerned about the prospect of traversing the steps up and down for potty breaks. Joel had audibly huffed above you.
“I can leave a bucket.”
“Yu-uck.” The latter word had been given two syllables to show the full extent of your disgust, like a child might do.
And that was how you’d ended up here: snug in his bed on the ground floor, curled up in more layers of flannel and wool than you could count and staring blankly up at the man who was standing cold and aloof off to the side.
Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.
He figured they would be.
Joel picked up the glass that sat beside your empty one on the nightstand and drank, watching you all the while.
“D’you know my momma?” you asked, voice sounding extra small coming from the depths of your cocoon.
Joel finished his drink in four big gulps.
“Sure hope not,” he said once he’d set it back down.
By the sight of the scars he’d found littering your hands and back alone, Joel was able to surmise you’d come from a pretty rough, ragtag group. Maybe even Raiders. Knowing folks like that simply never struck one’s fancy, so he’d been honest. You might’ve argued, or laughed, if you hadn’t been nabbed so tightly in the grips of those first stages preceding sleep, so instead, you nodded.
“Figured,” you mumbled.
7:11, Joel read on the clock. You’d finished your drink at seven, or somewhere thereabouts. Judging by your size, it wouldn’t take long at all for the medicine to take effect.
‘Medicine,’ Joel thought, sounded a whole hell of a lot better than ‘drugs.’ One was meant to rehabilitate, rejuvenate, bring new life to your worn and weary bones. The other would just knock you cold and keep you there.
On second thought, those were definitely drugs Joel had just slipped in your water before giving it to you to drink.
As your eyes blinked from closed, to open, to closed, then open but slightly less open than the time before, and closed again, he felt a sick sense of accomplishment twist in his gut. If only his former-nurse friend could have seen what he was doing with those morphine sulfate tablets he’d traded for—he likely would’ve slapped Joel across the face. And Joel would’ve smiled all the same.
Yeah, okay, drugging the unsuspecting and defenseless female he’d just saved from death’s doorstep two days ago didn’t look great on paper, he would fully concede.
But this was all in good fun.
Great fun, even.
For him.
“Sick fuck,” Joel muttered as he started to undo his belt. The button and zip were taken apart just as fast, and with two steps, he was standing at your bedside—his bedside—and tugging his trousers down his legs. He took his cock in his hand and glanced over at the clock.
7:15.
He nudged your shoulder.
7:16.
Peeling layers of blanket away from your body.
7:17.
“Hey…honey?”
A lot more nothing from the girl sleeping in front of him. He shrugged his jeans to the floor, kicked them off at his feet, and moved onto the bed. You just looked so sweet.
Joel tried working around the fabric of his boxers but got impatient pretty quick. He hauled those off, too.
Soon, his beefy, bare, and surprisingly tan legs were bracketing your hips as he stroked himself above you. His eyes roamed the lax and tranquil features undeniably characteristic of sleep, and he pumped himself faster. Really, there was no need for theatrics or enhancements now—he was already hard as three tonnes of steel—but Joel would be lying if he said he didn’t like the build-up.
You were no longer in danger of dying, thanks to him. You were slowly but surely on the mend, no thanks to Cujo at all, but many thanks to him, Joel Miller, the man who had pried you off of that post, pulled you out of your chains, ushered warmth back into your limbs, and stitched up your side out of the goodness of his heart.
Any objective onlooker could see that you’d availed yourself of his medical attention and aid without ever asking, so why should he request access to you now? This was the way of the world these days, anyway. Sex was no longer so much a question as it was an answer in most scenarios—a mere transaction, wherein the physically weaker of two parties was forced to capitulate. Not within the four unsullied walls of Jackson and a few other pockets of homestead communities here and there, but on the whole, absolutely. Jackson was down the road a ways away and sufficiently far enough from Joel’s cabin for him to be disentangled from their rules. What mattered now was obtaining what he was owed.
Still, the man hesitated a half-second longer above you. He jerked his cock even faster and felt his stomach start to clench. Was that? No—nerves were fucking juvenile. Getting close to cumming from just the sight of you alone was for chumps. Joel Miller was no chump.
He lifted your nightie and lowered the head of his cock to rest between your folds. Then he shifted his knees so that he could rub himself gently against your warmth.
Joel Miller was a monster, but he was no brute. He also understood female anatomy well enough to know that, well…wetter was better. He started moving his hips.
You exhaled through your nose. Nothing major; you probably hadn’t even felt him long enough to whine.
Joel planted a hand beside your head—a preemptive warning.
“There…” He liked to talk as though you could hear him. Like you might be semi-conscious and dimly aware of what he was doing to you then, “Right there…ah, baby.”
He never did catch your name.
That was no matter. So long as you stayed put and made a nice, wet, pretty little hole for him to fuck, you would be fine. By the feel of your folds alone, he could tell you’d be a fun thing to use. Soft and snug and plied with drugs, you could do, and be, anything he damn well needed.
Or maybe nothing at all, he thought without humor.
Joel brushed your cheek with the knuckles of his free hand and watched you turn away, making a face. He snagged your chin and tilted it back to him, sharply, before gliding those fingers down your chest, then your tummy, then your hips, then dipping between your legs. He found your clit and pressed it with a deliberate touch.
“Hey,” Joel whispered, again, as though you might hear, “You’re gonna stay still and let me do this.”
Your nose scrunched in response, thighs clamping together. Joel pried them apart with one push and continued sliding his cock back and forth. He grunted.
“Gonna let me take what’s mine, hear?”
You didn’t hear much of anything, he suspected, but he asked the question all the same. At least now your legs were staying open and he could rut himself gently into that space without having to keep them spread. A first, gentle ‘mmph’ sounded from your lips, and he was glad. He kept thumbing that spot he knew you would like and rubbing along the seam of your cunt with his erection.
Then Joel felt a weight on his shoulders. Remorse? No. Anxiety? Perhaps. This felt more like a fog, though, seizing his muscles and seeping gently between the grooves of his brain. He gave his head a fierce shake.
“Hold still,” he said, more to himself; you hadn’t moved.
Joel fisted the base of his cock and angled the tip toward your entrance, caring much less whether you were ready or not now that his desires had grown stronger.
He was met with resistance on trying to push in. He dug his fingers in the pillow beneath your head and scowled.
“Quit…clenchin’…like that. Ain’t…fair to me,” he huffed.
He was one to talk.
Now, he’d been with a staggering number of women, experiences ranging all across the spectrum, but even the tightest, most untouched pieces of ass he’d ever tapped had given way more than this. Your walls were unyielding, refusing to give him entry. Joel cursed and rutted his hips in a rough, entirely unsuccessful, thrust.
You hummed in response, eyes still closed, one hand fumbling mindlessly for something to hold. Joel seized it.
“Not lettin’ you off that easy, darlin’, I—”
“Fuck,” you breathed, followed by a low whimper.
Joel froze. Had you heard him? Felt him just now?
Something about the uncertainty laden in those questions sent his mind into overdrive, heart beating a wild cadence in his chest. He realized then that his mouth had gone dry, his vision was skewed just slightly on the outskirts. And his cock was throbbing.
“Ya like that?” Joel seethed, not thinking, still rubbing, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”
“Uh-huh.” Softly.
You little slut. He knew it all along.
Whatever it was that kept your body from being coupled with his was almost immaterial to him now. Joel’s mind was swimming with desire, cock dragging in desperate, fitful bursts between your legs, never penetrating but still wringing massive jolts of pleasure from that place.
With the way he was feeling now, Joel could cum from just fucking your thighs. And that was alright.
You were moaning underneath him. Even…smiling?
“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty.”
Joel had never called a girl pretty before and meant it. But he hardly knew how else to describe you now with how good and sweet and fine you were making him feel. A strange warmth sank into his chest, making it harder to breathe, and then he was panting above you, as if he were really inside that dripping wet spot. He was close.
“Such a pretty…sweet…fuckin’ thing for me.”
That red, raging, leaky cock of his was almost a blur between your legs, he was thrusting against you so fast. Joel thought for one frightening second that it might be his skull that would explode instead, so high was that pressure between his ears, but his fears were promptly put to rest as the first rope of cum came stuttering out. Then another. Then another. Then another.
By the time he finished, he could’ve sworn he’d left a hundred spurts on your tummy. When Joel glanced down and saw a sea of opaque, sticky white, he groaned.
Then he fell. Fully collapsed at your side with his brain in a tizzy of wild, heady feelings and sank into himself.
He hadn’t even fucked you, and he felt like he had.
He lifted a hand to wipe away his spend, but he couldn’t.
He would get to it in the morning, before you stirred, he thought. He thought. He didn’t have the chance to think much longer at all, as darkness started hedging him in.
He slept.
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It was 7:57 when he woke.
The man had no real way of knowing that, though, seeing as he was greeted with a nickel-plated revolver between his teeth the second he opened his eyes.
You were straddling his torso, gun pinched between two calm, bandaged hands. You frowned when he jumped.
“WH—” he started.
“Shut up.”
“ST—”
“I said shut,” you cocked the gun, holding it tighter, then shoving it even further inside his mouth, “the fuck. up.”
The man obeyed.
‘Joel M.’—you’d read the name etched on the butt of his pistol before picking it up some twenty minutes ago.
“Pretty fuckin’ thing,” you mocked the man’s Texan drawl as you wiggled the barrel even deeper along his tongue, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”
The man’s eyes widened.
How dumb did he think you were?
Offering a semi-clear liquid that should’ve been water; he hadn’t even waited for the morphine tablet to fully dissolve before handing it over to you. Fucking idiot.
You were more disturbed by the fact he’d thought you stupid enough not to notice than him actually trying to drug you. The latter was almost to be expected from predatory, execrable men like him, but the insult to your intelligence? Unacceptable. You’d remedied that affront fairly quickly, though, swapping his glass with yours the second he hadn’t been looking, then nestling into his bed and playing pretend for what had felt like an eternity.
You’d been awake the whole time the man touched you, not knowing what the hell was going on but feeling like you had to stay still. Let him finish. Out of fear, at first, then curiosity, then some strange and unfamiliar sensation that you couldn’t quite describe as anything but a pleasurable itch between your legs. You let the man continue, hearing him grunt and groan and swear up a storm before he shot something hot all over your tummy. By the end of it all, you knew it was wrong, and you knew it was dirty—though you weren’t sure exactly what it was that he had done—but you wanted to learn more.
Which was probably why you hadn’t just shot the old pervert right between his eyes the second he’d stirred.
You shifted atop this ‘Joel M.’ and frowned once more.
“Why’d you stop?”
Gun still wedged in his mouth, Joel’s voice sounded garbled as he spoke, “Wha-agh-at?”
You retracted the metal just long enough to pose the question again. When you had, he still looked stunned.
“Answer me,” you barked, and feeling your patience lapse, got straight to pistol-whipping the motherfucker upside his half-grey head, “You DUMB, or somethin’?”
The man sputtered again.
“No, no— I don’t— dunno what you mean.”
He sounded dumb. You would need to spell this out.
“Why did you stop rubbing me like that?”
If anything, the clarification only seemed to baffle him further. He opened his taut, bearded mouth, then closed it, then eyed you up and down with a look that said he was considering something. Then he stared at one spot.
You glanced down at it too.
“And what is this, anyway?” you asked, swiping one finger at the mostly dried moisture on your stomach, “Why’d you spit this stuff up all over me, huh?!”
“I ain’t—”
You raised the gun as if to hit him again. He jolted back.
“I didn’t mean— shit. Shit, I just…came on you, ‘s’all.”
“Came?”
The word hung in the air like a grenade, waiting. Mr. M was already bracing himself for the impact, it seemed.
“Came?!”
That bracing served him well, because in the next second you were lifting the weapon even higher and eyeing him with the most pointed, putrid look of disdain. You’d never been one for letting grenades go untouched.
“Ejaculated!” Joel hissed, lifting a hand to shield himself, “Felt— felt so good I just couldn’t stop and I-I-I came.”
You paused.
Came. Felt good. Couldn’t stop.
You had felt good when he’d rubbed you. You had not wanted him to stop. But then he had. And you were mad. You’d never been touched that way in your life, and now you were feeling fifteen hundred emotions at once.
Were you supposed to ‘come,’ too? Why did he stop?
“Why didn’t you let me…ejaculate, too?” The words felt foreign and strange on your tongue.
For the first time, you saw one side of Joel’s lips twitch. Evidently fighting the urge to turn them into a smile.
“Girls don’t really…do that,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Why? Ain’t ever had your pussy rubbed on by a man?”
You shortly landed the blow you’d been holding over his head, splitting the skin along his brow with one hit from the butt of his gun. Joel jumped again, then moaned.
“Crazy bitch!”
“Creepy fuck.”
Your eyes narrowed with loathing, unable to comprehend how a man so vile had just made you feel so good. Your stomach was twisting in knots while Joel rubbed his forehead, pawing helplessly at the gash you’d just left.
“I saved your life,” he grumbled, low, “You owed me.”
“Did I?”
Abruptly, and without really thinking, you were sinking the muzzle of the gun into the spot you’d just cut, mouth kicking up in a smile at the sounds of pain it elicited.
“Did I, Joel?” you cooed.
“How the— the fuck do you know my name?”
Momentarily, you yanked the revolver from his face and tilted it to show him his name carved into the bottom.
“What’s the ‘M’ stand for? ‘Molester’?”
“Means ‘mind’ your fucking business,” he spat.
You probably would’ve hit him again had it not seemed as though he were trying to sit up just then. You slid swiftly from his frame—just to take a step off the bed, gun still pointed at his head. Then you backed away.
One by one, rapidly, you unloaded the bullets from the cylinder, maintaining a safe distance from the man all the while. You watched him blink and try to get some thing from his eyes, but he didn’t seem keen to move.
You left just one live round inside. You made a point to spin the cylinder and, again, aim it straight at his head.
The man was blinking even harder. Rubbing now, too.
“I feel…” Joel murmured.
“Drugged?” you returned, “Yeah, that must suck.”
A set of wide, irate, and horrified eyes met yours. His mouth hung open in a stupid look of shock. Trying to piece the last bits of this fucked up jigsaw puzzle together and growing angrier by the second.
“You fuckin’—”
Joel’s words were cut short by the weight of your body barreling back over his. Graceless, you imagined, but still nothing close to something you cared about now. You planted your knees on either side of his ribs and grazed the tip of the six-shooter down the length of his nose.
“Tell me,” you said, “How’d you make it feel so good?”
Your hips twisted for effect, jostling the man’s own parts beneath yours and clearly causing some effect in him. The muscles in his jaw jumped up as he gritted his teeth.
“You know damn well, slut,” Joel griped.
Without another thought, you squeezed the trigger.
Click.
The man’s whole body lurched underneath you. Trembling with the realization that you’d left just one lone bullet for him—and he didn’t know which chamber.
As far as foreplay went, Russian Roulette was probably a first, even for a man as wanton and depraved as Joel. You smiled sweetly and made another gyration with your lower half, which prompted him to grip you. Tight.
“What? Ya want me to fuck you, is that it?” he growled.
“I thought it wouldn’t fit.”
“I’ll make it fit.”
“How?”
Try as you might to conceal it, your gaze likely betrayed a hint of sincerity as you made that last inquiry. Joel’s eyes flickered between yours, searching for something there, and just when those glossy brown irises had found it, they stopped. Blinked. He shook his head, incredulous.
“My mind ain’t…right,” he said, slowly, “But I— I know you know what I mean by that, sweet pea.”
Something in your tummy fluttered at the sound. You gripped the pistol tighter to get rid of the feeling.
“I don’t,” you answered.
Again, Joel was stumped. For the first time, though, there appeared to be some sympathy behind his eyes. Or stupidity. Or just a shit ton of morphine coursing through his veins as he tried to make sense of this situation.
As if to confirm an idea in his drug-addled brain, he lowered a hand between your legs and hovered there a second. He watched you; you watched back but didn’t move.
Then slowly, almost clinically, Joel slipped two fingers underneath you and found a soft, pulsing warmth—far wetter than the last time he’d touched down there. When he pulled his hand away, both fingers and half of his palm were glistening with a fluid. You let out a startled cry at the sight of it and nearly dropped your gun.
“What is that?!”
Joel looked to you, equally awed—for different reasons.
“What do you mean?”
“Why’s it all…sticky?”
You couldn’t even try to hide your horror at the thought of that weird, syrupy stuff leaking out of you. It was strange enough feeling it come out of a freak like Joel, but from your own body? He had to be fucking joking.
“It’s normal.”
“Like hell it is— you— STOP!” The last fragment of your sentence was swallowed by a scream, leaping back when Joel moved his fingers toward your face.
“What? You’ve never seen this?” He sounded like he was teasing. You could shoot him for how smug he sounded.
In very small amounts, you’d seen stuff. Blood every month. Bits and pieces of bodily secretions that, to you, had always seemed gross. But never this. Never big, sticky globs of…whatever the fuck this was. You continued to back away on the bed, gun still tipped toward Joel but now trying to put some distance between your bodies. You didn’t know how else to act.
You did know you wanted to scream when Joel stuck his fingers in his mouth. Bile might’ve jumped in your throat.
He sucked the dew clean off the digits, then wriggled them to show what he’d done. You felt the urge to vomit.
“That came from— from— why are you eating it?!”
Joel grinned. Big.
You weren’t sure why, but he looked psyched to be alive in that moment, and not just because of the narcotics.
Before you knew what was happening, he’d pushed you flat on your back, hips pinned underneath his hands as he moved over your body. He didn’t even try for the gun.
“And here I was thinkin’ you were just fuckin’ with me,” he chuckled, palms sliding under your nightdress. When you felt the residuum of wetness from his spit and your slick stuck together on his fingers, you wanted to squeal.
But you didn’t. You tried propping yourself up on elbows until Joel was sliding your one and only article of clothing over your head, then beckoning you down on the bed in front of him. You watched his gaze flit down to your side.
“Still hurt?” he murmured, tracing over the bandage.
You shook your head no, though it did, a little. At the moment, it seemed the pain was the furthest thing from your mind as you saw Joel slide down your body and try to take up residence between your thighs—with his face planted right there. You kicked his shoulder in protest.
“Quit!” you cried, pulling your legs up to your chest.
“You quit,” Joel returned, yanking them back.
Then you felt you had no choice but to brandish the gun, taking the thing between two palms while you pointed it again—as if he needed the reminder.
“Fine. Why don’t you keep that thing aimed at my head while I give you some?” he muttered. The subsequent ‘See if I give a shit’ was silent.
“Give me some what?”
“Head.”
Head. You’d never heard something phrased that way. Joel’s head was down there, sure, practically grinning from ear to ear as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, but certainly he didn’t mean to do a thing as drastic and dirty as—
“JOEL!”
“Hm?” His voice was muffled by your thighs.
You tried to shy away, but he held you down.
“Joel, I— I pee out of there,” you hissed, “Why the fuck would you wanna put your mouth on that?”
As if your groans of disgust and vehement attempts to get away weren’t enough to deter him, you watched Joel’s tongue dart between his lips and down to yours. The sick fuck was actually licking your folds, tracing the tip across that warm, sticky place and moaning into your skin. Holding you tighter when you pleaded for him to stop. Then, with the hand that wasn’t prying your legs apart, he reached down and started stroking his cock.
Again, it felt dirty and wrong. Beyond the fact that this man was a perfect stranger and easily decades your senior, you were repulsed by the sight of his lips and his tongue and his spit mixing up in that messy, wet place you still didn’t quite understand yourself. You didn’t know much about your body, but it had never once occurred to you to be kissed down there. Joel was roaming every contour and crevice with his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he liked it.
“I hate it,” you whined, feebly.
You knew you could’ve easily blown the man’s brains out, but some small part of you was still plagued by curiosity. ‘Hate’ was just the first word that came to mind when you were faced with something that made you scared.
“It’s weird,” you tried again. This time pressing the gun to the top of his bobbing head while you grit your teeth, “And wrong.”
At that, Joel stopped.
His eyes flickered to yours, all glass-like and hooded.
“Why? Practically lickin’ ya clean here,” he said, starting to grin to himself as his words came slightly slurred, “There’s nothin’ wrong about this, sweet pea.”
You felt something flutter between you. He felt it, too.
“Like when I call ya that? ‘Sweet pea’?” he said, pausing to flick his tongue over the spot that had just stirred at his words. He watched you fight back a whimper.
“No,” you choked. You pinched your eyes shut, unsure whether it was pleasure or pure revulsion overtaking you—or both.
Suddenly, you felt Joel’s hand smooth over your thigh, still warm from when he’d been stroking himself below. He placed an affectionate kiss to your belly and grinned.
“Is that what this is? Feel guilty about feelin’ this good?” he murmured, “Think it’s…dirty, what we’re doin’?”
At length, and just barely visible to him, you nodded.
“It is dirty,” you corrected him quietly.
Then you saw that stupid pseudo-sympathetic smirk tug at the corners of his lips, and just when you thought he might nudge his way back up your body—to do what, you weren’t sure—he sank between your legs. This time, he made sure to hold your gaze as he re-assumed the position. His palm continued to rub at your thigh, as if to distract you from the rough brush of his stubble or the fact that his mouth was hovering so dangerously close.
“Sweet pea,” he rasped, “Ain’t nothin’ dirty about this.”
As if to punctuate his words, Joel dragged his lips down your slit to press a kiss to your centre, eyes never leaving yours.
“Not here…”
He pointed with his tongue, moving it deftly between your folds. You gripped the sheets, trying to ignore the pleasure that the simple act wrought through your body.
“Not here.”
He kissed your clit. You squeezed even tighter.
“Not on my tongue, on my fingers, anywhere, y’hear?”
You were about to answer—maybe tell him he was supremely full of shit, then flash the gun in his face—when Joel shifted onto his knees on the bed. He moved slowly and as calm as he ever had, motions languid while his mind was likely steeped in the morphine by now. He snagged one of your ankles. He slid his hand up the back of your calf and tugged you down to the edge of the bed. Then he stood up, right between your legs. The warmth radiating from his bare lower half was immediate, almost suffocating from where you lay. You didn’t like it at all.
You refused to meet his gaze, grip tightening on the gun.
“Joel…”
When that warmth at your front shifted inward, though, you hardly had a say in what your reflexes did or didn’t do. You jumped when you felt the head of his dick slip past your pulsing core, closer to the other hole below it.
“Not here, either,” Joel continued, grin still evident from his tone.
Before you could even think to ask what he meant to do ‘here,’ Joel moved one of your legs up, tilting your hips, and pushed ahead with just the tip of his cock. Not breaching it fully, but nudging—prodding at that hole.
For the first time, you let out a moan.
You hastily clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle it.
“Aw, honey,” Joel murmured, “Did that feel good?”
His words reeked of condescension. You scowled at the ceiling.
“No.”
You felt him push a little further—this time making the head of his dick notch into that tight ring of muscles.
No, the word rang through your skull once more. Your curiosity was shortly supplanted by disgust—how the fuck could you let this creepy old man, this stranger, press into you like that? Talk to you like you were dumb? You seized hold of Joel’s pistol with both hands and aimed directly for his chest.
“Stop doing that,” you growled. When the man’s grip on your leg only tightened and you couldn’t writhe away, you lifted the other and tried kicking him in the gut. Of course, Joel caught your foot midair, and it never landed.
“Just givin’ ya options, darlin’,” he said, easy-going. Not seeming to care about the firearm pointed his way.
Fuck it.
You squeezed the trigger again.
Empty chamber.
If Joel flinched, you didn’t see it. He did, however, knock the gun right out of your hand the next second, sending it tumbling with an unceremonious thump on the bed behind you. You tried to leap back for it, but your arm was quickly pinned. Joel cocked one silver-flecked brow.
“You done?” he asked, almost bored.
Your last—and only—leverage taken away from you, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger. And desperation.
“I don’t wanna do this,” you cried, trying to squirm away.
Joel didn’t move his cock, but he did hold you still. Blinking with indifference and a fair bit of drug-induced dissociation, it seemed, from the far-away look in his eyes. He pushed both of your legs so they were folded up to your chest, and ignored your whimpers when he did. At length, he pulled out just enough to smear some of your wetness down to the hole he was trying to fuck.
“You want this,” he countered gently.
“I DON’T!”
Joel continued as though he hadn’t heard you, and moments later, you sensed another slick something pooling against you. From your position beneath him, you could see a bead of spit slip from Joel’s mouth and stretch into a thin, glistening string all the way down to the space between your thighs. You watched him rub the saliva in with his fingers, almost meticulous as he did it.
Then he eased his hips forward an inch, wedging himself back in your ass. He groaned when he felt resistance—and a sharp clench of your muscles.
“I can teach ya…show ya everything…there is to know.”
His words somehow made it out through ragged breaths. That broad, tan chest was heaving with every labored pull of his lungs, and you could tell he was feeling good.
You might’ve been able to say the same for yourself, were your mind not singly occupied by the desire to escape. Still at war with yourself, wondering how it would feel or what you might see that first time, all the while despising the man who seemed hell-bent on forcing it.
He might’ve saved your life, but there was no fucking way he’d get to use you like that and stay breathing.
You were raised better than that.
You could do better than anything this man had to offer.
You resolved to kill him as soon as the drugs knocked him out—just like you’d had planned from the second you woke up on the floor of his cabin that afternoon.
Of course being chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains for some well-meaning stranger to find you had always been part of your mother’s—and the rest of the Raiders’—grand plan. Having this stupid, horny sap take you into his home with the hope of claiming you as his own was just the icing on top.
Now you had a reason to kill Joel and steal all his shit.
At present, he fed another inch of himself inside you and grinned when you let out a startled cry.
“Atta girl,” he said, smirking, “Feelin’ okay?”
“Fuck you.”
“Will do.”
Then, as if to prove a point, he bottomed out, sheathing his cock to the hilt in spite of your cries. Your hands fisted the sheets, and you tried to pull off. It didn’t work.
In fact, all it accomplished was giving Joel more room to thrust back into you. And pull out. And shove back in. The snap of his hips was like cruel and excruciating clockwork, completely unhindered by your words or your gestures or your pleas to stop fucking doing that Joel, it fucking hurts! If anything, the sounds of your censure only got him harder, and with it, made it that much easier to fuck you rougher. His eyes shone with pride.
“What’s’at, sweet pea?” he hummed, strokes coming into a steady pace.
“It’s too…big…doesn’t fit,” you whimpered.
In response, Joel glanced down to see the spot where your bodies were joined. He pushed even deeper.
“Yeah?” he said when you yelped, “I think it fits just fine.”
Motherfucker, you wanted to wail, but then your neck craned sideways—your mouth trying to find purchase in anything you might grit between your teeth—and the only thing that escaped your throat was a sob. You tried burying your face in the comforter, only for Joel to yank it back.
Cupping your chin and pinching both your cheeks in a single, punishing squeeze as he continued to fuck you, “What’s the matter, darlin’? Too much?”
You groaned and clenched your jaw, head jerking away.
Per usual, Joel was undeterred. Even smiled.
“My pretty girl need somethin’a bite, huh?” he hummed.
He probably knew you wouldn’t nod, so he went ahead and decided to oblige that one need he saw anyway. Snagging your nightie, Joel raised a hand to your face and proceeded to push the fabric inside your mouth.
Just as he started to lift his hips to deliver another thrust, he had to stop. A sudden, sharp ‘FUCK!’ left his mouth, then a groan, and his hand retreated fast.
You’d bitten him.
You were grinning just a little, and you’d bitten him.
Joel promptly slapped you across the face. If you weren’t so fucking amused by the sight of his bright red fingers, you just might’ve winced. Instead, the smile stayed on your lips, the slap barely registered, and, to your utmost disbelief, something else had just then started to form.
Pleasure, in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuckin’—” Joel snarled.
“Shit,” you finished, eyes rolling back.
You couldn’t help it. Joel was rutting into you relentlessly. That brief hand bite detour had only stoked the flames of his hatred—and arousal—and now he was practically splitting you in half with the force of his thrusts. He slapped you once more for good measure.
“Oh, that you fuckin’ like?” he seethed, cheeks flushed, “Can’t get off with my…tongue on your cunt, but a slap— and my cock buried deep in your ass gets the job done?”
“Uh-huh,” you answered softly. Mindlessly.
Really, there were no two people more fucked up than you in this moment, you thought. Joel growing harder with each desperate objection of yours, you going all soft and hot and bothered the second he slapped your face and fucked you rougher, and together, the two of you letting out grunts and moans of pleasure while the bed shook like an earthquake just shy of a 9.5 on the Richter scale. Were you not already planning to slit the man’s throat after all of this was over, you just might’ve wanted to marry this Joel M for how wonderfully he fucked you.
You let him know as much when you seized his forearms.
Bouncing into his thrusts, you bit your lip and finally met his gaze. Joel’s eyes were trained in somewhat of a daze, pupils all but swallowing his irises as he fucked you.
“Like being daddy’s little cocksleeve, huh?”
Only the sentence was slurred so bad you could scarcely make out half the words. You nodded just the same.
“Like it when he fucks you in the ass?” Joel panted.
You nodded again.
That pleasure in your belly had worked its way up to a full swell—and whatever it was, you couldn’t bear the thought of losing it now. You gripped Joel’s arms even harder as his chest swayed into you, then sank further and further until your fronts were pressed flush to each other and your ankles were hooked tight around his back.
It almost felt intimate. That coarse, weathered, sweat-coated face spattered with patches of grey seemed to you nearly handsome as his lips hung limply in an ‘o.’
Joel’s cock dragged back and forth between your walls at this new, snug angle, and moans fell out of you both.
“Baby.” His voice was hoarse. Strained.
You couldn’t quite make sense of the expression above you, but there was an unmistakable, muted desperation lurking somewhere beneath it. Joel rutted into you quicker, balls leaving rapid smacks against your ass with every thrust. His hair was disheveled, and his hands were making fists in the sheets on either side of your head.
“Joel—”
“Jus’ lemme use you.”
Words so low they were barely audible as he panted.
“But—”
“Daddy’s…almost done, sweet pea. Just take it.”
You were surprised he’d had it within himself to be so soft. A peculiar sort of haze hung over his face, the pace of his hips picked up even more, and suddenly those plush pink lips were hovering a mere hair’s breadth away from yours. Mumbling. Rambling on and on about how wet you were, how perfect you fit him, how nice and sweet and tight your body felt as he fucked you stupid.
That sensation in your own stomach grew even stronger.
Unsure of what to do, you pressed a palm to his chest.
“Joel, I…I feel funny,” you whispered.
Joel hummed. Didn’t slow.
“I know.”
He knew?
“What’s it—ah, fuck.” Your words broke off in a whimper.
Instead of proffering a verbal response, Joel just slipped a touch between your bodies—thumbing sloppily between your folds to earn a couple more high-pitched moans. Your legs tightened around his middle.
“Joel, s-stop!”
It felt so good it almost hurt. He didn’t stop.
“S’just an orgasm, baby,” Joel panted, “You’re okay.”
And, in spite of his own impending climax and the effect of the drugs likely reaching a fever pitch inside him, Joel managed to slide his other hand beneath the back of your head. Cradled you to him while he fucked you into the bed and made you come unraveled with his touch. You tried to writhe away, but he was used to the drill by now—he just fucked you harder and rubbed you faster.
Whatever he wanted would come soon. You doubted there was anything you could do to stop it, but you tried.
Without thinking, you grabbed hold of the damp locks of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked on them hard.
“Joel, I can’t— I can’t,” you keened.
The hand at the back of your head held you firm.
“You can,” Joel returned, tough but surprisingly calm, “Give it to daddy, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”
What exactly ‘it’ was was still unclear. You just knew you felt good and warm and full—about ready to burst. When you felt tempted to give his hair another tug, Joel’s eyes met yours, and they were soft. Insistent, still, but soft.
Dilated as all hell and probably swimming in clouds of a delirious, bleary haze, but always soft. Almost tender.
“Be a good girl and give it to daddy,” Joel slurred, slow, “C’mon, sweet pea…cum for daddy, please.”
For the first time in that short, rough, utterly deranged time you had known this man, he was begging you. Pleading with you, now, as his body grew overwrought with pleasure and just needed release. You needed it, too, not even knowing how you would get it, but the force of his thrusts, the warmth of his body, the look in those warm, bare, powerless eyes—you fucking loved whatever it was that could make a man like that so weak.
You had to strike while the iron was hot. You slid back.
Joel didn’t notice, too focused on your face and the feel of your body to see when you’d reached for the gun.
Just as you took hold of it, a jolt of pleasure tore through you. Your heels dug into his back, and you nearly lost control of the pistol. Joel groaned in your mouth, begged you once again to cum all over this cock, make a fuckin’ mess of it, baby, please, and you could only whine, grip the metal tighter, and raise it slowly to the side of his head while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
The peak of your pleasure had come into view. You felt it.
You nudged the muzzle through those soft, slick, salt-and-pepper shaded tufts of hair near the edge of his temple right when the first throes of euphoria seized you.
“FUCK!”
You squeezed the trigger.
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ridingthatd · 3 months
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𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚 & 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨
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𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇...
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yuta is a bad friend.
yuta is a bad friend, because he has had a crush on you ever since you waved your delicate hands his way, ever since he layed his eyes on you. even when it was clear he wasn't your type, even when it was clear you were trouble for him. maybe it's your sluttines that attracted his innocent self.
what makes him bad is that he's kneeling close to your professors office door, flushed face pressed into his hand while humping your twisted jacket around him in a tight spiral because it smells like you. he was about to give you this jacket before what he just witnessed.
he can’t say if this is his worst nightmare or wet dream.
professor satoru can’t know that you guys haven't locked the door of his office, right? otherwise you wouldn’t have decided to go at it like rabbits in heat. but there he is, teeth worrying his lower lip, heat scalding his face, his hips stuttering in the same rhythm as the sound of skin slapping against skin as professor satoru pounds into you; the sound of his desk thumbing at every single one of his forceful thrusts.
yuta pushes his face deeper into your jacket to stifle a moan, because he can hear you, your voice so clear and loud "please- please-" it sounds like you’re right next to yuta and it drives him crazy, makes him fist his cock and imagine it’s your tight cunt squeezing around him, milking him as he fucks into his hand.
yuta is going crazy to know that you're bare pussy is couple of steps away from him, he wants to peak in, he wants to take a look at your sweet little pussy, but he's scared- he's scared to what's gonna happen to him after. he thinks he might cum right in his pants just from a peak. he bites his lips hard as he stroke his cock against the fabric of your jacket.
one glimpse won't hurt, right? tiny white explosions behind the back of his tightly shut eyes. he scoots closer to the door, wet patch of precum under his hips. he's eyes widen as he clearly see you spread against professors satorus desk, your pink panties that he clearly recognize from when he saw it on your bedrooms floor when he visited you- the way he had to hide his ragging boner after this.
yuta hears satorus muffled groans, your eyes were crossed as your plumpy tits bounce everytime satoru press you into the desk with his whole weight, hips snapping into yours as he’s holding your legs open with his strong arms hooked under your knees.
he can't take it anymore, this is all to much for him, yuta groans into the pillow, takes his other hand and curls it around the rest of his cock, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling of warmth and slick.
gojo sounds like he’s completely blissed-out, and oh so in love with the little whines and sobs you make. your sobs were clear and loud, yuta can barely recognize your face, his cock throbbing just from the fucked out look of your face.
a shudder shakes his whole body when he hears gojo say. "do you like my cock this much hm?".
fucked stupid by gojos massive cock, thoughts only circling around dick, dick, dick, dick. yuta presses his thumb into his leaking slit, hazely staring at way your juice gush out everywhere- oh god how he wish he can lick every bit of it. he should lick your juice clean out of the office floor after this.
yuta groans, and immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, but there is no need to worry because your sobs and moans were much louder. he thrust his hips into his fist meeting his strokes, imaging it's your wet pussy, tears started leaking out of his eyes. but something happen that yuta wasn't expecting. he hear shifting behind the door, he immediately step a bit away. cock still out and hard, heart beating out of his chest as he waits to be caught.
but he hears a slam on the door, and gojos growls followed as the door creak with thrusts. "fucking take it you slut" yuta eyes roll as he realize, he's fucking you right at the door, you were next to him. he can smell the juice of your pussy, he can feel the heatness of sex. he can see the drops of cum that spilled out of you as gojo creampie you hitting the floor, through the crack under the door. if he wanted, he would just have to stick out his tongue and he could taste you.
yuta couldn't help it once his cock explode, his cum landing near the poodle of wetness you made through the door.
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teeskz · 21 days
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Freak: “You never been with no one as nasty as me.”
:・゚✧ second part to ¡Arriba! and continuation of T!TS UP ✧*: *:・゚-
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» pairing: fem!reader x OT5 (kim hongjoong, jeong yunho, choi san, song mingi, jung wooyoung)
» summary: what happens when you wake up the next morning in a dorm that’s not your own? and what happened the night before?
check out pt.1 here!
» w.c: 7.7k
» genres & warnings: college au, corruption kink, degradation yet praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (BAD, DON’T DO IT), humping, major tit play, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of spit, needy!ateez, handjob, mouthfucking blowjob, tit job, anal (i had to), dirty talk, teasing, reader opposes the idea but quickly gets on board, brief mention of professor!seonghwa, multi.stimulants, evil.
*disclaimer: reader is fed pills for a headache, but takes them unknowingly. do not consume anything if you are not aware of its origins*
» a/n: someone had referred to the boys as ‘evil’ and i RAN with that. yeah, they’re pretty mean- well kinda, but it makes things interesting. also, it only took me 18 days to upload 💪
enjoy!
» taglist: @mingyuslice @facioleeknow @sharksandminhos @yakosobaboba @xcynthiaaxox @hyukssunflower @tiny-apocalypse @pearltinyy @therealcuppicake @kxrta @hrts4hanniehae @softwsan @certifiedmoa @writtersthings @mingisprincess @strayskz143 @isabel-018
if your name is crossed, i couldn’t find you 🫶
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Your eyes crack open, the new incoming light from above blinding you, and slowly you begin to grow more conscientious. Instantly, you draw notice to your position on the hard floor, back to the ground, head tilted, and arms bent near your face.
For some reason, there's a slight pounding in your head, one that you're not quite familiar with and it genuinely makes you uncomfortable. The thumping grows as you start to wriggle your head around while you wish for it stop. And just as quickly as you had opened your eyes, you’re immediately closing them.
Wha....what happened last night?
Feeling your chest heave up and down, you try to recall the events of the previous night. You remembered getting a late breakfast/early lunch with your roommate, stopping by the library to check out a book, tidying up the room, then spending the rest of the evening catching up on homework.
But, then I got hungry.
Right, and so you’d went to the vending machine on the west side of the hall, where you ran into….Kim Hongjoong. He took you back to…to someone’s dorm and you hung out with his friends.
Then what after that?
“Look at her…” A voice murmurs and it breaks your thoughts. He’s close to your feet, you could tell, and immediately you’re on alert. Had you fallen asleep in the friend’s dorm?
“I’m still not over it, how can someone’s tits be so perfect? I mean, look at ‘em.” Another nearly groans which unexpectedly sends your stomach into a frenzy. Initially you hadn’t realized, but now you do register the cool breeze you’re feeling, sweeping across your bare breasts.
What the hell? Am I…shirtless?
“Who cleaned her stomach?” There’s a bit of muttering off in a distance before whoever said that speaks up again, “Well shit, and I kinda wanted to see Y/N with dried up cum on her this morning.”
“San, you’re so fucking nasty.” Someone chastises which causes a ripple of laughter throughout the room. You almost think they’d continue their conversation when suddenly, you feel a body crouch down next to you and begin lightly tapping at your cheeks.
“Ah, Y/N-ie, wake up for us,” You do as he instructs, you fluttering your eyes open again, only to see a grinning Wooyoung staring back. He holds a cup of water in one hand and the other as a closed fist, “Getting drunk like that without taking precautions, how can you be so irresponsible?”
You scrunch your nose, “What?”
You’re ready to pout, to rebut against his words, but he beats you to the punch by telling you to open your mouth, which you do, and he drops a few pills on your tongue, “It’s Tylenol. Hopefully this’ll stop the headache soon.”
You relax a bit after that, accepting the water as you lean forward. Downing a few gulps, you wait until the pills disappear down your throat then go to speak to him, “How’d you know I have a headache?”
“Everyone gets one their first time drinking.” Hongjoong, the perpetrator, the reason why you’re even here, walks up to you from the other side and also lowers himself so he’s level with you, “I’ll give you props though, you handle your liquor pretty well. Didn’t even throw up on Woo’s carpet once.”
He also has a cup in his hand, filled to the middle with bluish-greenish liquid, and mindlessly you thank him but it’s evident you’re fixated by the mysterious drink, “What’s that?”
Hongjoong peeks into the cup, acting as if he himself hadn’t known what the substance was, but then quickly he’s shoving it in your face with a smile and requesting you to take it, “Mouthwash. We can’t let you leave here with bad breath.”
You allow him to put the plastic to your lips and tilt the cup, dispensing the mouthwash. Your cheeks grow with the slightly burning liquid, you swishing and gurgling it all around before respiting it back into the cup.
After washing out your mouth, you finally sit up on your elbows and sweep a gaze across the room and who’s all in it. Yunho’s standing directly in front of you with his back to the window, San being tangled up in the comforter on the bed, and Mingi resting on the ground in front of a dresser.
“What the actual fuck happened last night?” Mingi comments while staring straight ahead, almost in a daze, and soon memories from the night before flood your mind.
The stupid truths that were asked, the disgusting dares that were performed, and the absolutely most vile challenges to have been completed. All of it resurfaces to your head and you are left in complete and utter shock.
“We found out Y/N’s a real nasty one, likes it dirty.” San snickers, and you throw the harshest dagger eyes imaginable towards him. No one could have prepared you for the drastic turn last night took. From drinking alcohol for the first time to allowing yourself to unravel underneath these five men. So much had happened and you just let it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted pussy as sweet as yours.” Wooyoung mumbles close to you and you hate how your stomach does another flip, “You covered my face sooo well with your lips, it’s almost like you were made for me.”
“Can’t stop staring at her tits.” Yunho blatantly states and not once has his attention been derived from your chest, part of him wishing for his face to be buried in them again.
“Fuck, and her mouth was a needy one, I remember that,” Mingi recalls with a chuckle, causing you to straighten your back with a beat-red face, “Thought she was gonna suck me dry last night.”
“How can you guys say these things? Aren’t you all embarrassed by what happened?” It hadn’t even crossed your mind to think of the repercussions your actions would have caused, leaving you with feelings of shamefulness and wrongness. But despite that, somehow everyone else feels indifferent.
Wooyoung merely laughs at you which makes you turn towards him bewilderedly, “Someone’s self-projecting right now.”
“Are you only asking this now because you feel bad about last night? About letting yourself get showered in cum?” Hongjoong mocks and you slowly cast your eyes downwards. Why do they have to have such a filthy mouth?
“To be fair, you could have declined everything, if you truly didn’t want it.” Yunho makes point, brining his shoulders up and slugging them down again.
“Yeah and who was the one that fucking came on herself after just some hickies?” Mingi thinks about your quaking body beneath him right after he sucked on your neck, nothing getting him more aroused than that moment.
“Just admit it,” Hongjoong drawls, dropping his eyes to take in your exposed body, “You liked every single part of last night, maybe a little too much than what you were hoping for, and that’s why you’re embarrassed. Come on, Y/N, you’re no different from the rest of us. You’re just as nasty.”
You don’t respond. You don’t look up. You force yourself to keep your eyes locked on the little, red box still on the carpet that’s been left untouched all throughout the night.
You’re disgusted by this, by it all. Disgusted by how forward they’re being. Disgusted by how they’re speaking to you. Disgusted by the fact that even through the ridicule, not once did you make an effort to put your tank top back on, and most of all, disgusted with yourself for squirming around to their hurtful words.
“No fucking way, look at her! She’s clenching her thighs right now.” Wooyoung throws a finger to your legs which have closed in on themselves and the rest of the boys hoot in amazement.
“And yet, we should be the ones embarrassed,” San goes to undo the blankets wrapped all around him, sitting up from his laying position and swinging his legs over, “You really are something else.”
Yunho pushes himself off of the wall, the black tank top he sports showcasing each flexing muscle with every step, slowly works his way closer to you, “You know, since we’re talking about it, I’m actually a little pissed at how last night went.”
He stops when he’s hardly an inch away and you verbally hear your breaths catching within your throat, “What are you saying?”
Mingi chimes in with a cold laugh, “Oh my- yeah, I know what you mean.”
While you bounce your eyes between the two of them, confusion plastered on your face , it’s San who deciphers their ominous code for you, “It’s cause they didn’t get to fuck you last night.”
Oh.
At the bluntness of his sentence, you can’t help but let out a soft mewl. Hongjoong dips his head closer to you, laughing, and decidedly adds on, “My god. These fuckers wouldn’t stop talking about how bad they wanted you while you were asleep. Granted, we all pretty much want the same thing, but holy shit. They went on rambles.”
“We could’ve stuffed you up just right too.” Mingi smirks and throws a glance over to you while you attempt to regain what little control was slowly slipping away. You can’t let yourself succumb to them, not again.
“Could’ve had you begging for our cocks like it’s your last meal.” Yunho meekly offers then shrugs his shoulders, feining as if he’d said nothing out of the ordinary.
You drop your mouth ready to scold him, all of them for their horrid words, when two hands begin to snake around your torso. With no hesitation, they grab a moundfull of your breasts which stops the forming sentence and leaves your lips parted open in complete surprise. You quickly look down at yourself being palmed and grabbed at.
“Wanted to feel these every moment of the night, but, that would’ve been weird, right?” Wooyoung quips as plays with your flesh, “Oh man, and you’re so damn soft too.”
The slight pain caused by his action jolts through you, you swiftly shutting your eyes and trying to hold back a whimper, “Wooyoung, please,” Your voice cracks when you plead, “What are- what are you doing?”
“You’re getting her nipples so fucking hard, look at them.” Yunho drops down to his knees and eyes your tits fully, “If I remember anything about last night, it’s how perfect you were when I sucked on these.”
At the end of the sentence, he brings a finger and thumb up to your nipples, flicking at your buds in a quick motion, and instinctively you yelp.
“Oh my god, Y/N. You see how we just lose control when you’re around?” Hongjoong scoots his body closer towards the action, bringing a hand up to your stomach and rubbing aimlessly around the area, “You make us act this way.”
You want to refute that and say, ‘how could I possibly be responsible for this?’ but it’s like the words disappear in your throat when he slides a few fingers near the top of your underwear. He’s grazing the padded area, stroking it.
You nearly forget your initial protest and almost allow yourself to come undone at their touch, and it only gets worse when you hear the bed creak and a body stalking its way towards you. When he gets behind you, you sense the being is much closer than you expected, and the next words to spill are essentially onto your neck.
“If you could get off to just some hickies, I’m so curious to see what else can bring you over like that.” San finishes with a grin that he presses against your skin, then going in for tiny kisses.
“You guys- h-hey.” You almost jump at the hand placement on you leg now, Mingi slowly working his way up your naked shin, past your knee, and halting at your thigh. He’s purposely holding himself back from going all the way.
“Say the word, and we’ll stop.” Wooyoung coos in your ear, the groping on your breasts getting significantly harder and at this point, he’s made room for Yunho’s hands to pinch and pull at you as well.
“We promise, we’ll do it if you want us too, but then…” Hongjoong lolls his head further into your vision which steals your attention away from everything else, “You’d need to stop fucking yourself on my hand if that’s the case.”
“Huh?” You quickly dart your eyes down towards your pelvis and as Hongjoong’s fingers lay idly on your clit, it was in fact you who had been sourcing your stimulation, your hips ever-so leisurely rocking, and digging onto his hand. And you hadn’t even known.
“Fu-uck,” Yunho tilts his face up, enveloping himself in the feeling of your squishy body directly in his hands, “Wanna fuck your tits so damn bad, please. Please, I need your tits around me right now.”
“I could see the outline of your cunt all last night, just staring right at my face,” Mingi kneads at your thigh, and he doesn’t know what came over him, truly he doesn’t. All he knows was that your thigh just looked eatable, with him swooping his face down to drag his tongue in a long, jagged pattern across your skin to your underwear line, “It’s like you were begging me to fuck you.”
“Need your mouth again on my cock, Y/N. You’re lucky I didn’t cum in your damn mouth when I had the chance.” San remarks, leaving mini-bites along your throat.
You hear their begs, their pleas, their desires. Never before have seen such a lustful group, one so open for their wants, for you on top of that. It’s hard to ignore them. Pretend as if their requests aren’t propelling you forward to buck faster onto Hongjoong. So, damn hard. And just like that, all previous attempts at holding yourself back have now cleared your mind. You crumble.
“Are you finally giving in to us?” Hongjoong stares you down, the originally limp hand he had on your underwear now steadily sinking into your pussy, “Well all have so much we want from you, would be waste if they couldn’t be fulfilled.”
The motion makes you flinch as a deadly groan leaves you, your eyes squinting shut and you’re forced to grab onto Wooyoung for support, “Ah-! ah-! Yes, yes, please. You can do whatever you want.”
“Hear that guys? Y/N-ie’s giving us permission to fucking destroy her.” Wooyoung cackles out while his teeth bites down on your shoulder and you cry aloud once more. What? Your skin’s absolutely beautiful, he wanted to see if it tasted as good.
Mingi lets himself up off of you, his face covered in his own saliva from slurping all over your leg, and it’s like a newfound desire pops into his head, “Shit, someone make her lay down. Just wanna do something really quick before we ruin her.”
All at once, the hands and mouths that were on you retract and soon you feel yourself being pushed down flat onto the floor, you recalling a similar situation from last night. Immediately, they get rid of your panties, yanking them off of you, before he’s bending your knees back. Right at the perfect angle to where your cunt’s spread wide enough for everyone to see.
Your scatter your eyes to the few bodies towering over you, “Mingi-”
“You think she’ll cum if I just stick my fingers in her?” He borderline muses, licking his lips at the sight of your pretty, thick cunt.
Wooyoung’s hands are back on to you as he’s fondling one of your tits again, then goes down till he’s level with you on the floor, “I dunno, you should try it out, though.”
Mingi huffs a sigh out, almost too entranced by you to continue, but then he watches as your pussy contracts and releases, almost in desperation for something and that breaks him, “Keep her still, I don’t want her squirming around.”
It’s San and Hongjoong who grab at your knees to hold you down, restraining you as Mingi settles between your legs, eye to eye with your clit. If he were to dart out his tongue, he’s sure he’d graze a little bit of your skin. And so that’s exactly what he does, sticks his tongue out to give you a slight lick directly into your lips, which quickly causes you to twitch.
“Y/N’s gonna get filled with Mingi’s fingers,” Another body taunts, Yunho, who’s dropping down to the other side of your chest and essentially mimics Wooyoung’s pose, “You’re about to get filled with his fat fingers while we fuck up these things.”
Referring to your breasts, the two men jump on you as if they’re starved, the only way to get full again is from you. They both kiss at your supple skin, then try to stuff however much of your flesh they could in their face. With mouths full, they use their tongues to wiggle around, coating a large portion of you in their spit.
“Gah!” You have to bite your lip from screaming even louder, as the men on your legs resort to using only one arm to keep you down, the other going in to touch you places.
“You just move at everything, don’t you?” Hongjoong smiles, noting how hard you’re trying to keep yourself from fidgeting underneath them. He’s back to rubbing near the top of your clit, while San on their other hand is nearly fluttering his eyes open and close, him leisurely starting to grind his hard bulge on to the back of your thigh.
“That’s-” A particular bite from Wooyoung makes you wheeze before coming back to your senses, “That’s not fair.”
You’re just about to fall apart at the seems from having almost every part of you stimulated, never having been so turned on before in your life, it’s bound to leave you wanting to wiggle around.
Mingi throws in another harsh slide of his tongue which would’ve shut you up immediately had you not finished talking already. He laps a bit more at your cunt, and even momentarily would bury himself between your pussy lips just for the feel of it, before he’d even begin to finger you. The moment he brought his hands, you were practically game over.
“Uh oh, someone’s about to hit their climax early,” Hongjoong sees how despite your hips remaining relatively still, your stomach’s sucking in and out rapidly, you breathing worsening by the second.
“Should we let her?” Mingi asks as he comes up for a second, watching the scene unfold before his very eyes of you basically going crazy.
Yunho, who’s been occupied with suctioning on your tit, finally detaches himself, leaning his head right below your boob, “But that’s kind of unfair. Remember, she got herself off last night without any of us helping.”
The other two on your cunt hums at that fact, Mingi narrowing his eyes to further examine you before doing the despicable act. No warning, no preparation at all, he shoves his two fingers into your entrance and a gutter-like groan escapes your lips, almost feeling like punishment for last night.
The motion didn’t make you cum, not like how they thought, and the guys were happy about that while you, oh the only thing you wanted to do was lay on your back and spaz out an orgasm. But, they weren’t going to let you. No, if you wanted to cum, it would need to be with everyone.
After pounding his fingers in a few more times, the squelching sound of your pussy cutting through the air combined with your heavy panting, Mingi unplunges his hand and inspects the wetness dripping off of him.
He twists his fingers around, taking in your arousal then opens his mouth to suck off your liquid. The taste of you shoots down to his already hard dick and he almost lets out a moan himself, “Mmm, do you know what you taste like?”
You couldn’t even look at him, whining out a ‘no’ as you go to shake your head. It’s hard to concentrate when the rest of the guys still haven’t let up on you.
“Oh, well here.” You try to glance down and get an image of what he means when all you see are fingers fly at your face before he puts his own wet digits inside your mouth. Your eyes roll back as you immediately choke on them, coughing against his fingers.
It buzzes against his skin which only fuels his erection further, and now he deems it’s time, “Yeah, I’m ready to fuck her.” Then he rips his fingers out of you.
San has to physically pry himself off, pre-cum seeping past his shorts and leaving your thigh a drenched mess, “No one take her mouth, I want it.”
“I bet your assholes so tight,” Hongjoong’s cock almost creams at the thought of your constricting hole around him while he removes his fingers from your clit, “Y/N, are you gonna let me fuck your ass?”
Yunho bites his lips at the red and purple art that has became your breasts, “All I know is I’m gonna cum right here.” He points to your sternum as the destination, indicating he’s wanting to rub himself in between your two mounds.
Wooyoung pops his mouth off of your bruised nipple, hazy eyes and all as he stares at your beat face, “Y/N-ie, I just know you’ll jerk me off so good. Have me shooting out sperm into your hand.”
Their words almost made you finish right then and there.
They all want you, and they want you bad, so much so that they’re willing to break your body for satisfaction. It’s almost fascinating.
“You okay with this, Y/N?” Hongjoong asks one final time, because once they get started, he isn’t sure any of them will be able to stop, “You’ll be fine with us wrecking you?”
You slowly drop your eyes to him, the friendly face that you had seen at the vending machines last night, and the face you saw when he was orgasming all over your face. You pan over to Yunho and Mingi, both who made your History lecture a lot more entertaining, and yet had the absolute desire to fuck you raw.
Wooyoung stares at you with his ever playful expression, one you remember seeing in high school, and also when he went down on you a night ago. Then there’s San, your motivator, always pushing you when it came to your shared major, and ultimately who wants you to swallow his seed as you take his cock whole.
Making note of each and every person, you breathe out a relaxed sigh before resting your head back onto the carpet and shutting your eyes, your own lust pulsing throughout your body, “Yes, I want you..” just saying it out loud is enough to make your pussy clench, “I want you guys to wreck me. I need you guys to.”
The boys exchange looks with one another and it’s clear what’s racing through their heads. That you’re done for. And so, without another word, they lunge onto you.
Hongjoong flops his back down next to you on the ground as he simultaneously shimmies out of his pants to better pull his cock out. Mingi and Yunho have a grip on your forearms and it seems they’re giving the older time to get himself ready.
Once he’s fully out, he throws a signal to the others, “Alright, help her on top.”
On his command, they lift you up and to the side, you now hovering directly above Hongjoong. You’re facing away from the action, almost oblivious to the madness ensuing behind you.
“Fuck- I…should we put her down slowly?” Yunho asks and was that a…sliver of concern you heard?
Hongjoong brings his chin down and gets a face full of your ass. You’re so close to his cock. He could buck his hips forward and penetrate you like that, but even he isn’t that sadistic, “Ah..hold on.”
You wonder what’s taking so long. Is he starting to reconsider? Granted, he was one of the reasons why-
“Oh shit!” Your butt immediately squeezes against the 3 wet fingers lodged into your ass.
“Just needa get her prepped really quick,” Hongjoong moves his fingers in and out of your hole, bringing on a sensation you’ve never felt before. You’re verbally whining at his movements while the others take in your groans.
Pumping just a few more times, he finally pulls his fingers out, “Okay, okay she should be good now.”
“Go slow.” San adds as the two begin lowering you down onto Hongjoong’s awaiting cock, so plump and tall, and ready to take you. At the initial touch of his head, you do sharp inhale.
“It’s alright, you can take me.” Hongjoong supplies as he brings his hands to your hips, helping you down, “You’re doing so good.”
You feel yourself spreading wider the more his cock fills you, and by goodness have you never felt this way before. You’re shutting your eyes completely shut and pressing your lips together. You try to remember the pain of having sex for the first time and this feels similar.
“Almost there, just hold out for me.” Hongjoong calls out to you while eyeing himself, watching as his dick disappears into your ass, and if he were a worse guy, he might’ve started driving his hips into you right away. But, he’s not, and so he allows you time to adjust on his stiff self.
San regards your tense expression, then peers over Hongjoong who appears to be controlling himself, “How’s it feel?”
“Like I’m gonna cum in her any second now.” He gasps then releases his head down to the ground, “Y/N, let me know when you’re ready.”
You give yourself a bit more time, causally squirming and wriggling against the foreign sensation. Getting on seemed to be the hard part and so after mentally preparing yourself, you give Hongjoong a small glance over your shoulder, “O-Ok, I think I’m ready.”
At those words, Yunho and Mingi free their grip on you, backing up a little to watch this unfold. Hongjoong’s hands are still on your hips, anchoring you to him as he shifts around beneath. He wasn’t lying when he said to San he’s holding himself back, you really are making this difficult for him.
“You got this,” Hongjoong murmurs then right at that moment, he starts to hump himself into you, getting a feel for the friction of right now.
“Oh, look at her face.” Yunho beams as he sees your face contorting with a mix of different emotions. The pain is still there, but it feels with every thrust it’s gently fading away.
“Aww, Mingi’s about ready to fuck himself into you, can’t you tell?” Wooyoung teases which causes you to creek your eyes open to the tall boy who’s watching hard, a hand unhurriedly stroking his exposed dick. You aren’t even sure when he took off his pants.
“Mingi,” Your tone is breathy and you feel as if you’re glazed by him masturbating, “Are you ready?”
He simply walks over to you while you feel yourself being pushed back onto Hongjoong’s chest by Yunho, now laying flatly on top of him. Hongjoong’s breaths hit the nape of neck almost instantly. Your knees are split apart and from Mingi’s perspective, he can clearly see the Senior continuously pushing his cock in and out of your asshole.
He gathers between your legs, pushing your legs even father apart while watching out for Hongjoong’s thighs which are directly below him. Fuck, is it taking everything in him to not just give your clit a quick slap.
“You’re about to have both of your holes filled,” Mingi works his eyes up to your chest and how floppy your tits are bouncing, “I should be asking if you’re ready.”
“Mmm, just go.” You could hardly get that out in one breath with Hongjoong gradually picking up his pace. You produce more grunts the faster he goes, but at the feeling of Mingi slipping his tip into your entrance, it makes you borderline shriek.
“Holy fuck.” He sighs, registering that his cock’s coated right off the bat in your slickness, “Dunno if I can let you cum first, you feel so good.”
He holds back another moan as he pushes himself all the way in, and it feels almost cynical to say that you think you notice some of your liquid dripping out of your cunt and down to your ass, wetting Hongjoong’s working cock.
“Am I good? Can I get on top of her now?” Yunho’s eagerness is ever apparent, any mild concern he had for you long gone. He saw the way your confused face beforehand has now morphed into one expression. And by the looks of it, you’re in paradise.
“Hurry up.” Mingi shudders when your pussy gives him a quick squeeze, and he begins a rocking motion inside of you.
Yunho wastes not another second in straddling your chest, swinging a leg over your torso and propping himself right underneath your tits. His pants have been long-gone, discarded in the other pile of bottoms and underwears left by the others.
“Been waiting too long for this,” he breaths out, his hands going straight to your breasts like magnetics. Despite his large body on top of you, Yunho keeps a conscious of not completely crushing you with his weight, and only slightly hovers above.
His dick lays perfectly in the middle of your cleavage, and he clutches your soft flesh within his palms, pushing and pulling at you. He aligns himself till the base of his cock is with your tits, then even he starts to thrust mildly in between you, squishing your sensitive breasts against his rocking hard-on.
“Look, you’re letting yourself get fucked in three different positions right now.” Wooyoung draws notice to this fact with a large grin on his face, him leisurely stroking his cock in one hand. He can’t help but stare in amazement at your priceless expressions, you babbling incoherent sentences while your eyes go white. You look fucked out.
“My turn. You’ve been acting so well for everyone else, I’m hoping you’ll do the same for me.” San utters as he dips down onto his knees. His own pants and underwear, along with the others, are off, and he aimlessly pleasures himself.
Opening your eyes, you roll your head to the side and see the head of San’s cock staring right at your face. It feels almost as if it’s begging for entrance into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You timidly widen your lips, big enough to fit at least the tip into your mouth and he dives himself straight into it.
“Oh-!” You warm mouth feels even better than he remembered, you covering his erection so well his eyes are wavering open and shut. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth and stretches you to no length possible, as you basically allow him to slowly start fucking your face.
“You’re so damn tight,” Hongjoong’s speed over the course has increased significantly, now at a rhythm where he isn’t concerned about hurting you. The pain has faded at this point, and to hear his jagged breaths struggle while bucking into your ass makes you whimper.
“Mm! Mm! Mm!” Any moan that’s wanting to escape you is muffled by San’s cock, him quietly murmuring to himself of how delicious your whines feel when he gets to absorb them.
You almost start to grow limp as your arms fall. Surely, you’ve submitted to them long ago, but now, having nearly every part of your body packed and used is making you stupid. You can’t think anymore. You can’t even speak. Only the timely pumps by them all is enough to keep you mentally here.
Your left hand rests against the ground, palm facing up, and you believe you’re safe to keep it there, a part of you that’s still left unoccupied, but when bulky skin comes down onto your palm, rubbing against the grain, you knew that wouldn’t be the case. Even though you couldn’t see, your head being turned the other way for San, it only made sense who it is.
“Y/N-ie, don’t forget about me.” You could hear the pout in Wooyoung, whining a bit more, though he’s already stroking himself faster into your hand. With each move, he’s leaving behind trails of wetness, lubing up his cock for when you instinctively wrap your fingers around him.
You begin to jack him off the best you could with what little strength you have, every so often you being forced to stop when Mingi would hit you at a certain angle. Yet, it’s apparent Wooyoung doesn’t necessarily care about you getting him off, but rather having your hand as a fuck toy for over time he starts to develop his own pace within your grasp. Now even he gets to fuck you like a play thing, all of them are.
Yunho’s hips are faster now, his hands working hard to grab and circle your breasts while he continues to drives his cock in between them. He’s never felt arousal like this before, your tits mushing his whole dick in a manner that sends jolts of pleasure through his tip and straight to his ballsack.
Mingi’s pounding into your needy cunt, him watching you swallow his dick whole every time he humps into you, “Feel- so- fuc…fucking- amazing.” The collection of spit he’s built up over the course is threatening to spill out, and so gathering a large amount, he pushes it all to the front, sending his saliva directly onto your clit.
It’s a power move. Showing that he can just as easily spit on you as he can fuck you into oblivion. And even if you wanted to be disgusted by this, you’re still the one rocking your own pelvis against both him and Hongjoong, whom’s mouth is practically on your inner shoulder.
He’s mumbling incoherent things, you thinking you could hear a repetition of ‘shit’ a countless number of times, all gradually getting higher. You nearly wail when he sinks his teeth into your skin from behind, biting the crease between where your shoulder and neck meet. It was amove to stop him from whining too loud.
“Mmm, fuck, I think I’m close…” San says out loud to the group, and even you could tell a while ago he was trying to hold back. His hips have decreased significantly in speed, and is only giving a thrust every other second. Despite this, your mouth still gurgles around him in a way that pleases him. Though he tried to postpone his orgasm, you just make it so damn difficult.
Wooyoung’s bucks into your hand have also turned from the consistent movement to a more sporadic rhythm, and he starts to lose his senses. The more he focuses on your hand around him, just letting him fuck your palm, the more he felt he was gonna blow at any second, “You’re so…so fucking nasty for this…” He was trying to shame you for it all, but his tone is a dead-giveaway that you’re making him go insane.
“Y/N, fuck you and your perfect tits,” Yunho’s grunting on top of you as his lower body begins to stutter, “Been making me wanna…wanna cum all over you from the moment I saw you.”
“Her pussy’s so fucking possessive, keeps devouring my cock like it’s starved,” Mingi huffs out, finding that his once even pace has turned irregular. He’s holding onto your knees for support while trying his damn hardest to restrain himself for as long as possible, “Gonna- gonna finish all in you, Y/N.”
And you. You were beyond the point of breaking. You’ve felt your orgasm practically hitting from the moment Hongjoong stuck his cock inside of you, but you’re good. You listen. They tell not you not to cum until they do, and you oblige.
But now, you’re done holding back. Every part of your body is being used, filling you, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. It’s a miracle you’re still alive. Now finally, it’s going to be all over.
You wiggle your hips desperately against Mingi, squeeze your hand so well for Wooyoung, let Yunho abuse your tits, and take San’s cock all the way to the back of your throat.
You’d think one of them would be the first to finish, but when Hongjoong relinquishes your skin, a throaty groan aiming straight into your ear, that’s when you feel a spurt of liquid shooting up into your asshole as he calls out, “Oh, fuck me!”
And that was enough for your own orgasm to come. Like a punch to your gut, both you and Hongjoong cum together, your legs quaking heavily as his sticky substance begins leaking out. Everyone could hear it, your attempt at a wail as your hips start to stutter, your walls clenching aggressively against Mingi’s cock which in turn causes him to pulsate.
Next thing you know, he’s ejaculating all into your cunt, holding himself down to where the only thing he can do is fill you up as you continue to shake beneath him, “Holy shit.” He groans in a strained voice.
Yunho blows his load the second he feels your body convulsing, his own mocking yours in the way his stomach thrashes while his warm, gooey nut leaves his tip and heads right for your chest. He manages to get some on your sternum, just like he said he wanted, but he finds he’d rather just cover your breasts. Ripping his cock away, he begins jerking himself throughout the rest of his orgasm, spilling out and all over your tits.
The feeling of their liquid makes your eyes vibrate, you buzzing another moan against San and he loses it. He’s releasing his ejaculation down your throat, keeping your head still as he’s dispensing more and more of himself inside of you, “You take me s-so good.”
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” The unsteady motion of Wooyoung’s thrusts is evident of that, the way cum is already start to permeate through his head and all over your hand, but quickly you feel more strings of it covering your palm. He’s still grinding his himself into your grip, an ungodly whimper falling from his lips.
You continue riding out your high, while in their own variations, they all do the same. Whether it’s grunting or whining, the combination of moans from them makes you aroused like no other. Eventually, the bucking of their hips slow, and you stop feeling additional liquid hitting your body, indicating that their moments are nearing the end.
You’re still producing after-shocks, even as they begin to detach themselves from you. Wooyoung pulls his somehow half-hard cock from your hand, Yunho standing up and removing his weight from your torso, but quickly falling over to the ground.
San’s too in love with how wonderful your mouth feels on him, but even he knows it’s time to give you a break. Both Mingi and Hongjoong separate themselves at the same time, with Mingi pulling out first and then Hongjoong, only after a pair of hands lift you up.
Your eyes are shut, and you hadn’t noticed before but drool’s dripping down the sides of your face, along with part of San’s cum, yet you didn’t care. You’re placed gently back onto the ground as a form of recovery for you to lay there which you do.
With no thoughts in your head, no worries present, you simply bask in the after effects of what had happened. Not even a feeling of guilt or embarrassment reside in you. Only a clear head and drips of cum sliding around your skin.
You almost start to doze off again, eyelids growing heavy and a deep sigh overtakes you, when a voice lets out a yawn, smacking their lips a bit before talking, “Oh wow, it’s already 11.”
You don’t respond immediately to that, your sleep consuming your brain but then you think. There’s no way it could be 11. You always did tutoring for the younger students at 10:30 or so on Sundays, and you’ve never been late to a session before.
But, if the time is truly right, then that means…
Just as quickly as you had shut your eyes, you’re flinging them back open, panic flooding throughout your whole body.
“Oh, god!”
— Bonus —
Little, bookworm Y/N, studious as always, is the one you see in the front row of classes, meekly raising a hand to answer the umpteenth question with ever-lasting knowledge. Your teachers knew you as a such. Reliable, punctual, intelligent, just an absolute delight to have in class.
Never once have you been a disturbance, nor have you have had the intent of being one. Which is why you were selected as a peer mentor in your History class, helping those who struggled in the subject you excelled quite well in.
So, you can only imagine the quizzical look on Professor Park’s face when you barge nearly an hour late into your tutoring session, fumbling and juggling your book bag around along with your papers and text books.
On top of that, instead of making your way down to your usual spot near him, you cut through the middle aisles, brushing past rows of chairs then plopping down in a set of empty seats. Most of the other students give quick glances to you, also confused by your truancy.
“Oh….?” Your professor stares at you in awe, taking in your somewhat disheveled appearance. Your shirt appears 2 sizes too big, hair thrown in any kind of way, and when he asks you to move closer towards the group, he watches as your pants hang awkwardly off of your body.
“I’m so sorry, Professor Park.. I-I” The excuses tumble out of your mouth, each step you take to descend down to the base of the room chopping up your words, “It was a complete accident. I hadn’t intended on being so late.”
After your apologies, you reach the bottom of the stairs and walk past the Frenchman in shame. Because of you being late, Professor Park had to take over your usual group, leading a mini-lesson that he has written on the board.
He brings up a somber hand to try and calm you down, his slender fingers waving softly in front of your face, “It’s alright, just take over your group like normal and I’ll fini-”
You do a quick brush past him, your scent blowing right after, and the whiff he gets is enough to make him stop his sentence. Setting your things down near the rest of the group, you go to turn around when you notice it. His whole demeanor’s changed, a sudden stiffness to him that he didn’t have before and instantly you grow nervous.
“P-Professor, are you okay?” Had he actually been upset with you? Oh, who’re you kidding. Of course he should be, you had completely, and utterly messed up.
The watchful look he gives lasts for a couple of more seconds before he registers what you had said, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Blinking, he clears his throat and shakes his head briefly, you seeing part of his dark hair swaying with the motion. He stammers out, “Yes, yes, Y/N. Handle your group for the last 30 minutes, and I’ll handle mine.”
You nod at his words, immediately twisting to the students and going straight into your teaching. Professor Park’s eyes linger on you a bit longer as he drops them down to fully take in your attire, then eventually going to speak with his group.
As he assigns them a writing prompt and allowing time for them to complete it, he finds his mind wandering back to you. His ideal, and perfect student. And to your noticeably large shirt, combined with your wide black pants. Your face was also a dangerous shade of red when you had came in, but even he had just brushed it off as you being tired from sprinting to the session.
It all makes sense now.
The powerful scent you had, strong enough to make him stop in his tracks and stare at you, because never in his months of knowing you, would he have expected you to reek of sex. So blatantly too.
The all-too familiar smell of cum radiated off of you, and your lips were abnormally bigger than usual, most likely from you taking someone’s cock. He almost wants to laugh, he’s so shocked by this revelation.
You’d been getting fucked when you should have been here on time. Professor Park thinks about that again. You, his punctual and reliable student, had been getting fucked when you knew you had to be tutoring.
His gaze dances towards you once more and your animated smile. He knows you only reveal such a grin whenever one of your students says something right. Most of the time he’d find it amusing, this time it makes him scoff.
You’re fucking dirty, he thinks. And he absolutely hates how a throb begins to pulse in his pants. Now, he’s pissed, and it’s all your fault.
A beep from his pocket derives his concentration from you and your antics, and he quietly excuses himself. He gives the students more time to work on the prompt, as he stands closer to the board, yanking his phone from his backside.
There’s a message from one of his former students, one he had a few years ago, and admittedly, Professor Park’s slightly shocked by the surprise text.
11:24 AM
Kim Hongjoong:
- you’ll never guess who i was just with hwa.
- a real fucking freak, i’ll tell ya.
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theostrophywife · 5 months
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if u have time could u do theo taking care of a drunk reader?? thank u sm ❤️
here (in your arms).
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye.
author's note: in a soft fluffy theo mood. don't text.
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The boisterous sounds coming from the common room party filtered through the empty corridor of the boy's dormitories, making you sway to the beat of the music as you lifted your fist to the door. You rapped against the wood three times—your signature knock to let your best friend know that it was you on the other side.
You stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a disoriented Theo. His ruffled hair flopped over his eyes, the brown waves slightly flat on the right side, which you knew was his preferred side to sleep on. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart as you watched the sleepy boy before you, his Chudley Cannons sweatshirt and light grey lounge pants indicating that you had probably interrupted his slumber. A rarity, given that your best friend suffered from insomnia more often than not.
Rubbing his eyes, Theo adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and glanced down at you. In your tiny little dress, you shivered in the cool air of the dungeons, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps.
"Hi Teddy," you whispered. "Did I wake you?"
"You did, but I don't mind." Theo said softly, rubbing up and down your arms to provide some much needed warmth. "What are you doing still up?"
"Pans convinced me to play another round of beer pong," you confessed. "You should have seen us. We obliterated the boys. Malfoy threw a fit."
The silly giggle that you covered behind your hand made Theo smile. If your constant swaying wasn't enough of an indication that you were currently inebriated, the deep red flush on your cheeks, neck, and arms told Theo all that he needed to know. You were absolutely sloshed.
"I'm sorry I missed it, dolcezza." When your body temperature refused to thaw, Theo shrugged off his jumper. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his toned stomach, his olive skin glimmering in the dim lighting. You bit your lip, averting Theo's gaze. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with pulling the jumper over your head to notice. "Come in, let's get you warm, yeah?"
"Mmkay," you murmured in agreement. You trailed behind Theo, almost knocking into the doorway until he laced his fingers through yours, guiding you inside his dorm.
"There's a door there, amorina."
"Don't make fun, Teddy." You huffed, pouting as you followed closely behind. "Your room's too dark. How can you even see anything in here?"
Theo chuckled. "Sure, let's blame the lack of light instead of the fact that you're smashed."
"Am not," you countered, plopping onto Theo's large, plush bed. "I'm perfectly sober, thank you very much."
"Fine. Then who was the Minister of Magic during the Goblin Rebellion in 1752?"
"There were two ministers at the time. Boot was in office first, then he resigned due to mismanagement. Basil Flack replaced him." You smirked at your best friend, feeling rather smug. "Just because I'm bevvied doesn't mean that you'll catch me lacking, Theodore."
Theo raised a brow. "So you admit you're drunk?"
"You tricked me!"
"Guilty as charged." Theo admitted, plopping down right next to you. "So, did you bail on the party just to hog my bed?"
"It's not my fault that yours is much more comfier than mine," you mumbled, cocooning yourself underneath his comforters. "Plus, the party wasn't as fun without you there. I needed my partner in crime."
"I thought you'd be glad that I studied for the History of Magic exam instead of getting shitfaced. You're the one always telling me off about partying too much."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."
"It's you," Theo said with a smile. "Of course I listened."
"I never thought I'd live to see the day when Theodore Nott is more responsible than me."
A smile tugged at your best friend's lips. "Well, one of us has to be. You're a mess, Y/N," he teased. "But you're my mess."
"As if that's not the pot calling the kettle black."
Theo chuckled as you buried yourself in his blankets, hiding from him entirely. He snuck underneath the covers and scooted closer until you were face to face.
"Hello," Theo whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and hugged you liked he hadn't seen you all week. "I've missed you quite terribly."
"It's only been a few hours, Teddy." You replied, giggling as you brushed his hair back. It was getting so long, but you loved how soft and fluffy his locks felt as you ran your fingers through it.
"Says the girl who snuck into the boy's dorms to see me."
"Okay, so maybe I missed you too."
"That's what I thought."
You stayed intertwined for a moment, your hearts beating in sync as you clung onto one another. When you yawned, Theo patted your leg. "Come on, love. Let's get you ready for bed."
"But I'm already comfy," you whined, burying your face in his chest.
"I know, amorina. But you'll feel so much better after you've washed your face." You pouted in response. "I promise I'll make it quick. Then we can cuddle, okay?"
You nodded. "Okay, Teddy."
Theo smiled before giving you a piggyback ride to his private bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he pulled out the makeup wipes that he kept in the drawer for this exact reason. You swung your legs in the air as he wiped the foundation off your face. With his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, you'd never seen Theo so concentrated.
You grinned and pinched his cheek. "You're so cute when you're focused."
He quirked a brow as he helped you wash off the remnants. "Only when I'm focused?"
"No, you're cute all the time. It's infuriating." You lamented as Theo patted your face with a face cloth. He hummed, spreading serums and moisturizers on your skin like he'd seen you do a thousand times over.
"Oh? Care to share?"
"Hmm," you hummed, leaning into his touch. "I think it's cute when you hook our pinkies together in the hallway so I don't get overwhelmed by the crowd. Or when you get crumbs all over your face and grin like a little kid when I catch you raiding my cookie stash. Or how your eyes light up when we're watching the stars at night."
"You noticed all of that?" Theo asked softly.
"It's you," you answered, mirroring his words from earlier. "Of course I noticed."
The shy smile on his face made your heart flutter. "For the record, I think you're cute too. I think you're the cutest girl I've ever seen in my entire life."
"Sounds like you have a crush on me, Teddy."
"I have for the past six years. Thanks for finally noticing," he said with a chuckle.
You groaned, burying your face into his neck. "Don't say that to me when I'm drunk. What if I don't remember it tomorrow?"
Theo kissed the top of your head and carried you off to bed. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you in the morning, love."
With a grin, you kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for taking care of me, Teddy."
Theo smiled. It was so beautiful that your heart ached to bear witness to it. As he tucked you into bed and wrapped his arms around you, the boy that you loved pressed a kiss to your temple and spoke a promise into the night.
"I'll always take care of you, Y/N."
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Taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar
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aemvnd · 15 days
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𝓇.cameron. ┆ lace panties.
◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ rewrote this cus i hated it n y'all been flooding my inbox askin' for it back since yesterday, so here ya go, lovies . <3
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"rafe, have you seen my new pair of pink lace panties!?" you cry out, hoping your voice carries over into his bedroom across the hallway, but the oldest cameron sibling doesn't respond—only low, slightly muffled groans, and a small, occasional whimper falling from your older stepbrother's lips.
rafe groans, releasing a small, breathless little chuckle to himself underneath his breath, breaking off into another low moan, fisting the ballerina pink lace fabric over his heavy, slippery cock, dripping with his pre-cum, feeling his aching balls tighten and warning him that he was so close to his release—so, so fucking close.
and then, he hears you, banging obnoxiously loud on his locked bedroom door, like you always do—spoiled little brat, rafe thinks, making him roll his eyes into the back of his head as you whine his name again, and oh, fuck, he can just imagine you whining so prettily underneath him, with his bigger and stronger body on top of yours, pinning you down as he fucks into you so nasty, so hard, you'd be feeling it for days from how pent up he was, and still is.
rafe doesn't always do this, using your little pair of cute panties to help jerk himself off, but today was a special occasion—at least, that's what rafe likes to think when he thinks about you two spending the day together—and yeah, he was taking you out on his boat, and maybe, just maybe, you'll let him fuck you raw with the waves gently rocking the boat, sunshine beating down on both of you, bathing you in golden light as he roughly ploughs into your sweet little pussy, making you appear like an angel.
and god, you'd look so gorgeous, he can just imagine it, making him pump his large, tight fist even faster, the delicate pink lace of your panties already so wet and sticky, and fuck, he hears you call his name again, and he shoots his hot, scorching load all over your panties, staining them with his cum.
what a waste, rafe thinks, he'd rather shoot his cum deep inside of your overstuffed, sweet little pussy, filling your womb, and he knows he's fucked, wanting to make his little baby stepsister as his girl, as his.
then, rafe smirks to himself, lifting up the tiny pair of ruined panties with the tip of his long, index finger, letting the lace dangle as he obsessively observes the creamy fluid that coated the poor lace, but he doesn't care, he can always just buy you another cute pair of panties since you 'keep losing them', as you always complain with a cute, glossy pout—but rafe knows the truth, he thinks to himself smugly.
besides, the more he steals your panties, clean or dirty, rafe doesn't mind, he'll know you'll start to catch on—and he can only hope that when that time comes, you'll come begging on your knees, all weepy and submissive for his cock.
however, in the meantime, he still has a few more of your pretty lace panties to jerk off to just to help him reach his release, but he knows it'll only last for so long before he gives in and makes a move on you, making you his.
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sorrowfulrosebud · 1 year
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Cont of this
*Wails profusely at the idea of reader walking in on Katsuki and baby play fighting in the nursery*
==================================
The thick mahogany door separating your hall to your living room creaked loudly as you pushed it open before kicking off your shoes. You sigh in relief; you adored your friends, but by god could Mina and Denki talk.
“Katsuki? Keiko? I’m home my babies!” You shouted into the silence of your usually noisy home, before realising that Keiko could be down for a nap.
The delicious aromatic smell of Katsuki’s noodles filtered through the air and enticed you to your spotless kitchen. A small note was left on your kitchen island with Katsuki’s neat handwriting.
Hope you had a good time out with the losers, food’s in the fridge and Kei had his bottle. We’re probably upstairs in the nursery
- love, Ki
You smiled at his loving note, before prepping the food and tucking in.
==================================
After the delectable dish of noodles and vegetables, you meandered your way up the stairs to the large nursery you had for Keiko. You crept the white door open slowly, before tears started pricking at your eyes.
Katsuki was laying on the floor with your chunky baby resting on his chest with a tiny Dynamight costume on. Katsuki was making Keiko punch his face, revelling in his laughter.
“What the hell?! Why is this hero so damn strong?!” He pretended to be scared as he gently manoeuvred Keiko’s tiny fists to make contact with his cheeks. Keiko was giggling away, drooly mouth flashing his proud daddy his singular tooth. Katsuki let out little “pew pew” and “whoopash” noises at every point of contact.
“No more Mr Hero! I’m too weak, don’t punch me again!” He faked groans of pain as he repeatedly made Keiko punch his cheeks, before delivering the final blow.
Katsuki slumped his head to the side as he made convincing sounds of death.
“Blehhhhggg,” he moaned as he died. Keiko laughed loudly as he tried to plunge for his daddy. Katsuki let out his own laugh as he snuggled his baby closer to him.
“This certainly looks like naptime,” you laughed out loud as Katsuki jumped.
“Uhhh. He woke up?” He offered, embarrassed you saw him admit defeat for his son. You shook your head playfully as you approached your two heroes.
You picked Keiko up as he cooed in your arms.
“You did a wonderful job of beating your daddy up, Keiko,” you nuzzled your face into his slightly pink cheeks, earning a babble.
Katsuki smiled widely at his family before groaning at the way his legs had gone numb from the assault from his son. He joined your hug, swaying the three of you softly together. Katsuki pressed small kisses to each of you as Keiko burbled away. You nuzzled your face into Katsuki’s neck, smiling when you feel him smile back.
“I missed you both today,” you murmured. Katsuki continued to smile.
“We missed you too, didn’t we little guy?” He nudged Keiko, who yawned sleepily in response. He rubbed his eyes before nestling into you, breaths slowly deepening as you gave him a gentle goodnight kiss.
“Time for a real nap now, isn’t it sweetheart?” You murmured, giving your husband a pointed look, who only let out a breathy laugh.
“Ain’t my fault he’s a damn good hero.”
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