#deon x reader

“Dion, wait - hng - I can’t-”

You teared up, your dark lashes becoming damp and your vision hazy. The intense stimulation was too much. You wanted him to pause for a moment, to allow some reprieve so that you could catch your breath, but it seemed as though your pleas for mercy only excited him as his movements grew fiercer.

He fucked you as if his life depended on it. Each thrust penetrated you deeply, reaching all of your sensitive spots and making your toes curl. It felt amazing, but it was also overwhelming.

Dion’s hand stealthily slid up from your thighs to your waist, before reaching to your backside and lifting your hips with ease. Your eyes widened as you realized what his intentions were. One of your hands shot out to push against his chest in protest. “Wait-!”

The objection died on your tongue as he gave a particularly harsh trust, burying himself inside of you until his pubic bone was flush against yours. A mixture of a whimper and moan escaped your lips, your nails dug into the firm flesh of his pectoral. He barely even registered the pain, but he paused for a moment, ceasing his movements while keeping you stuffed full of him.

Dion’s red eyes flicked to your face, his breath coarse and heavy as he watched some saliva dribbled down your chin. You stared up at him, your eyes unfocused. Your tried to speak, probably an attempt to scold him, but your words came out as nonsensical gibberish. He couldn’t help the smug smirk that tugged at his lips.

How good it felt to see you powerless beneath him.

Dion leaned down, pausing briefly when his face was mere inches from yours so that he could ask, “you can take it, can’t you?” He cooed with encouragement, an undertone of mockery tainting his voice. You stared up at him, your eyes silently answering ‘no’. He nearly chuckled, his inner sadist satisfied, before he added, “For me?”

You hesitantly nodded, not wanting to disappoint your lover. Dion hummed in approval, pulling back slightly before giving another powerful thrust. Your entire body tensed, your back involuntarily arching as you exhaled a coquettish groan.

You’re going to space. Because of crowdfunding.

Deon was the brain behind the whole thing. He

Alex was the muscle, who practically built this ship single-handed.

Rocky was the pilot, who was overqualified to be messing around with her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s “work husband”.

And you, social media expert and petty queen who put together

You all didn’t deserve a win, you needed a win.

Were you qualified? Did you have permits? No. You were someone that the three brits had recruited off instagram. You have a high school diploma, but you know how to promote things.

Six months ago, these people were strangers, and now you can’t imagine what life would look like without them.

And who knows, you were scared that they’d drop you after the launch. What did three geniuses have that they needed you for anyway?

But you couldn’t think about that.

You’d been live-tweeting the whole preparation day, trying to distract yourself with the audience interaction. That’s why you love social media. It’s just people, but like...far away.

Deon comes towards you, and you slowly go in for a hug. He’s warm and soft, and he’s always tried to make you feel included.

It’s all a haze. You do your job as best you can, but it suddenly felt as if you were on the ship. You set up your phone in the corner, basically duct taping it to a wall, but in a good enough spot where it could pick up all four of you.

It was perfect. No pieces of your hand-made vessel had fallen off yet. You had to trust the geniuses that had recruited you. It was all going to be fine.

You're fine, right? You barely made it through high school and now you’re in a homemade tin can because you hate Jeff Bezos.

Deon helps strap you into your seat, and his hand lingers on yours for a moment longer than it should have.

He pushes his glasses up his nose, before leaning his head back.

“Are you okay Dee?” You ask, and he snaps his head back up, giving you a sheepish smile. He always smiles like that when he doesn’t want to talk. A smile isn’t a good enough substitute this time.

“This is Operation Kaboom, preparing for liftoff,” declares Rocky over the intercom. SHe was literally a foot away from your seats, but it was better safe than sorry.

“Guys we’re really doing it!” squeaked Alex, kicking her feet in excitement.

“After all this time,” breathed Deon, looking over at you.

“Ten,” Rocky continued “Nine.”

“Being with you guys over these past few months has been the best I’ve felt my whole life, if we land, don’t forget about me please,” you spit out the words as if they were poisonous but you can’t die in a homemade rocket ship without telling your favorite people the truth.

A chorus of “what” rings out through the cockpit. Two sets of eyes are on you, only because Rocky couldn’t turn. You only had enough funding for a twenty minute trip to space, you couldn’t fuck up the takeoff.

“Eight”

“Why the fuck would you say that?” spits Alex

“Don’t say if, it’s WHEN we land,” adds Rocky.

“You’re all geniuses, and I’m just here.” Your eyes were welling up, and Deon felt a unique kind of distress he’d only ever felt once before. Did you really think they’d drop you? After you helped them make history?

“Seven.”

“Do you think we could have done any of this without you?” he breathed, taking off his glasses, trying to resist the urge to go sit by you.

“Yeah you kind of got all of this off the ground,” added Alex, who looked surprisingly annoyed- more than usual somehow, “Pun intended.”

“Six- please shut up.” Rocky snapped, only to be ignored.

“Like honestly, I was going to wait until-”Deon tried, running a hand over his face, as you feel like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.

“For the love of god, can you just ask her?- Five.” Rocky was about to have a fit, you knew that tone well.

“I mean if you decide it's IF we land, I want to ask you on a date when we land.” rambled Deon,as a large flower bloomed in your chest. What?

“Four.” Rocky would have thrown something if she had anything to throw.

“What would we even talk about, you’re a genius!” Maybe it was the day’s stress, or the fact that you are livestreaming the whole thing, but tears fall. The loud, hot, frustrated tears.

“I assume the same stuff we’ve been talking about this whole time!” shoots back Deon, aghast that you’re seeming to forget the dynamic the two of you had shared. You got along. Well. Regardless if he was a ‘genius’ or not.

“Three.”

“All he does is talk about you when you're not around, I mean when we land, maybe say yes,” prompted Alex, looking at the phone taped to the wall.

“For the love of god, date him so we can stop listening to him ramble about your eye color!” screamed Rocky, “Two-deon you suck, this was a bad time to ask.”

“Thanks Rocky, I know.” Deon let the horrible headache sink down to cover his body. You were going to die and reject him. He should have left you alone.

“One.” You stared at Rocky’s brunette ponytail bounce, “And we have liftoff.”

Over the next few seconds, you’re pretty sure that you’re dying, the pressure in your head felt too great to handle, but as quickly as it started, there was relief.

You want to hold Deon’s hand. He keeps his brow furrowed and his eyes closed. God.

“We’re doing it!!” Deon screams as you break the sound barrier, up above the earth.

You’d never heard Deon yell before.

There are a few moments where everything feels good. Through the window, you see earth getting far away.

It’s a beautiful thing, to say you could be above it all.

All of your pain- the pandemic, the country in a constant state of collapse, any hopes you had for a future that kept going up in smoke with every move you made.

All you had, all you cared about was in the tin can.

“Alright crew, we’re safe to get up!” Alex declares, already dropping her restraints and floating up into the air.

Deon’s face is split in half with a massive toothy grin, and the two of you stare. Your hair waves softly in the anti-gravity, and you decide to let your bonds loose and float over to him.

You’re delicate, flying above it all.

You’re an elegant wisp, even when you misjudge and hit your head on the wall above him.

No one laughs, you’re all too busy.

He takes your hand and pulls your mouth down to his. Nothing to say, but to put his mouth on yours.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. It’s better in reality. You could practically hear people commenting on the live, even if it didn’t matter now. Deon keeps his hands in yours, and you smile when you free him from his chair.

The two of you, in space, together.

The police were likely waiting down on Earth, and you were able to see #ASTROSLUTS trending on twitter already.

But everything is just fine.

Even if no one remembers this tomorrow, you still took a hit against one of the most annoying men, and you made a move on the greatest brain you’d ever met.