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sillyblues · 10 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic

part 1

Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.

Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.

If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.

More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.

Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—

“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window.

“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.

“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”

You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.

“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”

“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.

“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.

“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”

Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.

“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”

There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.

“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle.

“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”

“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.

“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,

“But, Miguel..”

“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”

“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.

“Pfft, really?”

“Yes, really.”

There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.

“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”

“...I missed you all too.”

The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.

What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.

During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.

“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly.

“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”

“Oh no.” you silently snorted.

“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.

“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.

Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.

“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”

You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”

“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.

“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.

“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.

“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.

“You had a fight, didn’t you?”

“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”

“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation.

“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.

“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.

But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did.

On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had.

“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.

“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.

“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.

You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.

“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.

“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.

“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”

“Never.”

“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.

“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”

You start to walk away.

“[Name], por favor,”

You were nearing the exit.

“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.

“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”

What?

“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.

“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.

“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.

“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears.

Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.

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#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

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hairmetal666 · 2 months

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Steve parks at Eddie's, a plastic wrapped bouquet of roses so purple they're almost black carefully buckled into the passenger seat, and a nervous twist to his stomach. He didn't plan to do this. It's just, he was agonizing about his crush to Robin and she goaded him until it seemed like a great fucking idea to ask Eddie out on Valentine's Day, of all days.

The flowers were an accident. He saw them in the front window of the little flower shop in town, and it felt like fate, like they were practically made for Eddie Munson.

With a deep breath and a gritted teeth, he swings out of the car, flowers in hand. He's doing this, he's got this, he can ask Eddie out.

Music rocks from the trailer, drowning out Steve's knock. They didn't exactly have plans tonight, only they hangout every night since Vecna, so he figured...well, Eddie never said they weren't getting together.

He's a little miffed when his knock isn't answered. Even when the music is up, the walls of the trailer vibrating, Eddie always comes to the door. But the minutes tick by with no response until the annoyance turns to anxiety.

He stretches over, up on tiptoe, craning through the window to see if he can spot Eddie, probably distracted by planning for dnd or working on a song.

The kitchen is deserted, pots steaming on the stove. The two-seater table is covered in one of those paper tablecloths they have at Melvald's for a buck, patterned with bright red hearts. The table is set, two plates, two beers, a candle burning in the center of it all.

God, he's stupid. So stupid, with his nearly black flowers and his silly crush. Of course Eddie already had someone to spend Valentine's Day with.

He stumbles down the stairs, stomach fighting up his throat. The loud music makes so much sense now. He has to leave. He can't stand the thought of Eddie finding him here, letting him down easy; can stand even less seeing him with the date he has over.

Steve almost makes it back to the car before he hears the screen door slam, Eddie's voice calling his name. For a second, he considers ignoring him; for a second, he thinks about jumping in the car and driving off and forgetting this ever happened. But he could never do that to Eddie, not even when the consequence is his own heart.

"Oh, uh. Hey, man," Steve says. He runs his fingers through his hair, swallows. "Didn't mean to interrupt, thought we had plans but I guess they weren't set in stone." He's rambling and he knows it, but can't stop. "I didn't realize you--I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie's eyes flicker from Steve to the flowers clutched in his fist, the wrapping now sweaty and rumpled. "Are those for me?" Eddie asks.

Steve's mouth open and closes a few times, thrown off the track of his monologue and trying to think of a plausible lie. "I--they're--it's--"

There's nothing for it. He has to tell the truth and eat the humiliation. "I saw them today and--They're perfect for you. So, I wanted--" he shakes his head, shoves the bouquet into Eddie's arms. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'll let you get back to your date."

Eddie's face scrunches and it would be cute except for all the way Steve's heart is breaking. "Aren't you my date?"

"What?"

"Steve. We hang out every night. I thought--"

"But. For me--" He splutters. "The table?"

"Harrington, it's Valentine's Day! You bought me flowers!"

"Yeah, cause I was going to ask you out!"

This is what breaks Eddie, and he bursts out into helpless giggles.

"Don't laugh at me, Munson." But he's starting to laugh too.

"I'm sorry! I just--you," and Eddie isn't laughing anymore, he's looking at Steve with clear, shining eyes. "You brought me flowers."

Steve sobers too, hands over the bouquet. "I brought you flowers. You made me dinner."

"Yeah." He glances up at Steve from under his eyelashes. "I made you dinner."

"Sorry for--" He gestures broadly around himself.

Eddie shakes his head, soft smile on his lips. "You're something else, Stevie." The words are so fond they make Steve's heart flip. "Now, come inside before the food gets cold."

Steve walks to do the door, pausing before he climbs the stairs.

"What is it?" Eddie's eyebrows lift.

"Nothing. Just--" Steve licks his lips, notices the way Eddie tracks the movement. "I'm really falling for you, is all."

"No duh," Eddie says with a broad, smitten grin. "You bought me flowers."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harringon #eddie munson #ficlet #valentine's day #friends to lovers #fluff #a smidge of angst #misunderstanding #oblivious steve harrington #idiots in love #they're not dating but they're not NOT dating #getting together #feelings confession #no duh #working on a steddie “no duh” agenda now i guess

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agendabymooner · 4 months

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SOMETHING OVERWHELMING !!! MAX V. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: max wanted her to do a lot of things and he enacted on his goal by overwhelming her.

💌 re:moony's planner request: "overstimulation with max please, like dom!max but body worship ✨."

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, overstimulation, squirting, praise kink, dom-ish!max, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wear a glove before making love), i have written ✨fuckall✨

note: mmmm yes my biggest enemy rn— i did not do the body worship part (i made it praise instead 🫶). live laugh love him tho. enjoy xx (also! please don't hesitate to give me your opinion or talk to me!!!)

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

his ego was at an all time high.

but so was her mind. she could’ve sworn that the throbbing she could hear wasn’t adrenaline pumping through her heart but rather her cunt that had been overstimulated by max.

her tear-stained cheeks were red, her hickey littered neck and collarbones were turning purple from the addictive touch of max’s lips as she squirmed under him.

he was smiling like a maniac, his fingers curling up against her spongy walls as the speed of his thrusting increased.

she supposed that being a three-time world champion would do this to a man. not only would his head grow big as he celebrated his victory— his body would also be on fire as he fucked her relentlessly.

“m- max,” she cried out, her hand trying to push his wrist away as he smacked her insistent fingers slightly. she babbled at the overwhelming feeling that rose in her stomach, “it’s too much!”

“c’mon, baby,” he murmured, pressing a sweet kiss on her lips as he goaded her into another orgasm, “you’ve got more.”

“n- no! no more,” she replied with a high pitched squeal as her hips rutted against his fingers. “‘s too much! i- hah~ fuck!”

he chuckled darkly, watching her cunt produce liquid as it trickled out of her. she squirted and whined loudly as the red bull driver smirked.

max tutted, “see? you’re such a good girl. look at this pretty cunt of yours.” he leaned over and traced over her glistening folds with his tongue, humming at the taste of her. “such a sweet taste, baby. fuck. i could fucking eat you all day.”

“mmm,” she murmured, her hips twitching as max continued to devour her cunt like it’s his last meal. feeling her clit being stimulated once more, she let out a soft whine as she told him incoherently, “m- maxie, ‘m cummin’ again. fuck.”

it was as if max couldn’t even hear her, getting lost in a trance as he inserted three fingers inside her and fucked her once more.

he almost moaned at the feeling of her cunt tightening around his thrusting fingers, vibrations sending her to a haywire as she mumbled, “oh- oh!” her mumbling turned into screaming, clutching the sheets under her as pressure built up in her stomach.

she wasn’t even certain how she got into this predicament. all she knew was that, midway through the season, she promised to be at his mercy when he received his trophy by the end.

she didn’t think that he would go this route: his hips rutting down the mattress as he sought for friction, his mouth and chin glistening as she came all over his face again and again.

she was expecting him to deny her of everything— like a king of the world— yet here he was on his stomach like a man starving for pussy.

he growled almost immediately when she tried to push his hand away again, his thrusts were getting faster and deeper as squelching noises filled the room.

her mewls and the filthy sounds of her cunt and his fingers were the only thing that they both could hear— she almost wanted to die of embarrassment and humiliation.

while he… he fucking loved it.

he wanted her to cum all over him. he wanted her to scream, to whine and to have her eyes rolling back until she saw nothing but white. he wanted her to cry because she was overstimulated.

he maneuvered her around until she had her back arched and ass up, easily sliding his cock inside her as she sobbed. his hips snapped against hers while his cock drilled inside her cunt easily, filling her to the brim with his girth and length as she let out a cry of pleasure.

“fuck, schat,” max groaned from behind her, his eyes peering down to watch his cock slide in and out of her hole. “you are such a good fucking girl to me.”

she only let out a whimper, her walls clenching around his cock as he continued to praise her, “taking me so well with this pussy of yours. takin’ everything you’re given without complaining— you are such an angel.”

“mmm…max, ‘m gonna cum again,” she dragged out her last word, her tears staining the sheets as much as her cum did. she mewled, “fuck, maxie! ‘s too much!”

“keep cumming for me, liefje,” max demanded, the tight grip that his hands had on her hips while he fucked her contrasted with his use of term of endearment, “cum all over my cock.”

he could see his cock with ring her cum all around it as he continued thrusting, giving himself a smile of excitement as she came all over his cock as he demanded.

“see? you listen then,” max crooned, pulling her up against his chest as he bottomed out inside of her once more.

she reached her high for the eighth time, her walls stilling around his girth. max tilted her head, kissing her as she moaned softly at the feeling of cumming while his cock remained inside of her.

“let’s see if we can give you more before i fill this pussy of yours with my cum,” max chuckled, making her squirm and mewl. “can’t wait to see my masterpiece, schatje.”

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

#f1 smut #formula one smut #mv33 imagine #mv33 #mv1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #formula one imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut #formula 1 smut #💌 re:moony’s planner

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daycourtofficial · 2 months

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Empty Bed Blues

Summary: based on this request - you and Azriel have a spat and he can’t sleep without you. So he takes things into his own hands.

Divider by cafekitsune

“Do we have to go to this stupid dinner?”

Azriel had nuzzled his face into your neck, attempting to keep you in his arms. You stood from the bath, reaching for a towel.

“Yes, we do.”

“But m’tired.”

You run your fingers through his wet hair, his sounds of contentment permeating the silence.

You two were staying in the House of Wind for the evening, anticipating debauchery. You were planning to drink to your heart’s content and you hated winnowing and flying when you were drunk. The last time you flew while extremely drunk, you made him stop so you could throw up in the bushes of a few Velaris storefronts. You sent copious gifts the next morning in apology, but you still felt incredibly bad about it.

“And whose fault is that?”

Azriel had been working like a dog all day, having left your home before the sun rose. His grip tightens on the tub, a pause before he says, “Rhys’s.”

You laugh, “you’re the one who left at the ass crack of dawn to go work when you knew we were going to see everyone tonight.”

He groans, tilting his head back against the porcelain. “Why can’t we stay here? We know exactly what’s going to happen. Cassian’s going to make a crude joke to you to get me riled up, Mor’s going to drink and talk about who she saw the past week, and Amren’s going to sit in the corner and make me uncomfortable.”

You move closer to him, looking at him incredulously, “Wow, do you even like your family?”

“No,” he replies, his lips in a pout. “But I like you.”

You laugh at his attempts to keep you here and his blatant lie about not liking his family. However, you’d been looking forward to this dinner all week and you wouldn’t let a pouty mate keep you from it.

“Baby, I love you, and I’d do anything for you,” his eyes light up at your praise of him, “except miss out on this dinner.”

He deflates, sighing. “I’ve been gone all week and you’d rather see my family?”

You exhale through your nose, trying to keep your agitation to a minimum. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing them all week - you’ve been off on a mission, and I’ve been in Summer all week for Rhys. I’m just excited to let my hair down.”

His jaw ticks, “I just wanted to rest tonight.”

You blow out a breath, “you’re the one who decided to work all day after being gone all week.”

You can feel his annoyance down the bond, and you push some of your own back at him. You two stare each other down, withering gazes trying to get the other to back down. You clutch your towel closer to yourself, walking away calling over your shoulder, “well then, you can get some rest up here, alone.”

You retreat down the stairs, having dinner with your family. You refused to see your mate after your argument this afternoon. You had been looking forward to seeing everyone all week, and yet it wasn’t the same with the seat next to you empty.

Nesta had walked past you as you had exited your room, so you’re sure she had heard your argument based on the look she gave you. You’re also sure she told Cassian, who spent the evening trying to keep you in good spirits.

You appreciated his efforts, and you loved your family, but it truly wasn’t the same without your mate next to you.

Upstairs Azriel huffed, turning once again in an attempt to get comfortable. Nothing felt right. The comforting weight of you was nowhere to be found, leaving him in a sleepless fit. He swears he can hear your laughter from downstairs where you’re talking with his family at a dinner he elected not to attend because he was being stubborn and just wanted his stubborn, beautiful mate to lay in bed with him.

He runs his hands down his face, remembering the years where he could sleep wherever necessary. His romanticized version of those years doesn’t last long, as he also remembers how little he slept, weeks where his time spent asleep tallied in the single digits.

Your presence has made it nearly impossible for him to sleep without you nearby, but it also makes him actually sleep. The once permanent purple and blue bags under his eyes have slowly disappeared thanks to you.

Your presence is a luxury he’s been afforded, and damn it all, he’s going to indulge. Azriel gets out of bed, not even bothering to put on a shirt. He moves with speed, determination moving his feet through the halls and down the stairs. He reaches the entrance to the living room, his family lounging across various sofas and couches. His eyes find yours immediately, your lips parting in surprise. You’re standing next to Cassian and Nesta, looking at something in Nesta’s hands.

He stalks over to you, not letting you get a word in before ducking down and lifting you over his shoulder.

“Hello?” You call out, hands gripping onto his hips to stabilize yourself. You can hear Cassian whistle while Nesta mumbles, “dumb brutish male,” after you. He carries you up the stairs, the sounds of your family’s snickering dying down the further you go.

He doesn’t speak as you wind down the hall, or as he opens the door, or as he sets you down on the bed. He’s silent as he lays back down, and you start to ask what this is all about when he reaches a hand out, wrapping around your bicep. He pulls you towards him, settling you on top of his chest.

He sighs contentedly, finally opening his eyes and looking at you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbles, and his eyes start drooping, his body finally able to relax.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile on your face as you ask, “and why’s that?”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. “Needed you,” he breathes into your neck, nuzzling you with his nose. “Can’t sleep without you.”

“You’re spoiled,” you tell him, hands grazing over his cheeks.

He pretends to bite one of your fingers without opening his eyes. “I’m a male who knows what he wants.”

“Can I at least change into a nightgown?”

“If you can do it without getting out of my arms, yes.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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astraystayyh · 1 year

Text

The wedding and the morning after

inspired by that cute twitter trend :,) very soft bang chan fluff. use of wife and husband a lot but they just got married so they get a pass!!!!!

if you guys enjoy reading please leave a reblog or comment it means the world to me <3

Your wedding ceremony with Chan was a simple one. You weren't one for extravagance and neither was he. So you opted for an intimate setting, only inviting your favorite humans in there.

You felt as if everything was more vibrant that day- the colors of the flowers you both hand-picked, the smell of food that wafted through the air, the twinkling lights you had installed because they reminded Chan of your eyes (or so he insisted).

But you knew it had a lot less to do with the decorations, and more with the man you married. Being with Chan was like looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses.

You felt grateful that you were alive because you got to experience being loved by him.

There was music, lots of laughter, and admittedly, tears. You can blame Chan's vows for it. His words rang in your ears throughout the night- how he vowed to love you until his last breath, and long after that.

But he didn't need to make those promises, they were just honorifics. Chan has shown you time and time again that he was in love with you.

You knew by the way he tore down your walls, gently, at your pace, your hand tightly clutched in his. How he deeply cared for you, on your happy days but especially on your saddest.

You and Chan weren't perfect, but you complemented each other like two halves of one heart. You found in him a home, a safe place for you to exist and be loved.

"You are so beautiful", he whispers in your ears while the both of you sway on the dance floor. You could faintly hear the cheers of the boys who were watching you, but you paid no mind to them. All you could focus on was Chan's warm hands on your waist, holding you close.

"So are you", you beam at him. When you looked at Chan, you didn't simply see his beautiful features- his brown eyes, straight nose and plump lips. You saw a warm coffee shop, where you seek refuge on a cold day; you saw a sunset slowly casting down into the sea; you saw a field of tulips stretching into the horizon.

Looking at Chan reminded you of beautiful sceneries, of the smell of earth after the rain, of a hearty soup that fills your insides when you are ill. You saw in him every beautiful feeling you've ever experienced in your life.

"I don't know how I got so lucky", he kisses your forehead gently and you close your eyes, savoring the feel of his lips on your skin.

Chan's forehead kisses held a special place in your heart. You always felt them deep within you- as if he was kissing beyond your skin and into your soul.

"I'm the lucky one", you reply, standing on your tiptoes and pecking his forehead back. Chan blushes at your gesture, eyes crinkling closed like half moons. It made your heart sore, how affected he was by your touch even after four years of dating. You liked to believe you'd be seventy and still a giggling mess around each other.

Chan then twirls you around, your laugh echoing around the venue. He thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you laugh this way for the rest of your lives.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"My feet are killing me", you whine to Chan as he parks in front of your apartment. You chose not to rush into your honeymoon, because you wanted to savor the quiet after your wedding, just the two of you. And you couldn't think of a better place to do so than your apartment.

It wasn't a huge one, but it had a makeshift studio for Chan, and a little balcony where you read. You painted the walls blue together and he bought you plants that you water everyday.

It was messy at times, but it was still your home. You knew that no matter what happened throughout the day, you can leave your worries at the door and head inside into each other's safe embrace.

Chan quickly hops to your side of the car, and opens it for you. He takes your heels off, throwing them into the backseat, before scooping you up bridal style.

"I've been dying to do this on our wedding night", he giggles excitedly and you smile, loosely looping your hands around his neck.

"Well now you can, husband."

"Say it again", he smiles as he leads you up to your apartment.

"My husband", you repeat and he quickly leans down to steal a kiss.

Chan opens the door to your apartment, finally placing you on solid ground. He loosens his black tie and you lean against the wall, admiring the view.

"Like what you see?", he teases and you smile mischievously, "This is what I married you for."

"So you are only with me for my looks?", he pouts. You would have thought he looked so adorable if not for him slowly unbuttoning his white shirt.

"I am", you smirk and suddenly, you are thrown over his shoulder. You laugh as he runs towards the bedroom, with you perched on his back.

He then gently places you down on the bed, caging your body with his arms; any hint of playfulness gone from his eyes. His gaze is so intense, you feel a blush creep up your neck. He notices, of course, and he smiles softly at you. "Is my wife getting shy on me?"

"Shut up", you glare playfully at him, and he grins, "Make me."

"You are so cheesy", you giggle as you grab his tie, pulling him down to meet your lips in a feverish kiss.

°°°°°°°°°°°

"Morning, my love", Chan smiles at you, his hand threading through your hair gently.

"Morning, honey", you smile back, stretching slightly.

"Did you sleep well?", he asks, snuggling closer to you.

"Mhm, like a baby."

"I must have tired you yesterday", he smirks and you glare playfully at him, "Cocky much?"

"And you love it."

You're about to reply when your stomach grumbles loudly. "Is my pretty wife hungry?", he teases and you bite his arm in response.

"I'll take that as a yes", he chuckles, pulling you up with him, "Let's go make you breakfast."

"Make who breakfast?" you singsong and he smiles softly at you. "Make my wife breakfast."

°°°°°°°°°°°°

You are clad in Chan's oversized t-shirt and he's only wearing a pair of black shorts. The view of Chan's back muscles is so enticing you'd almost skip breakfast if you weren't so hungry.

When you are both done cooking, you happily dig into the breakfast while recounting the weddings events- how Hyunjin and Minho got so drunk they ended up confessing their love to each other, how Felix cried during your vows, how Seungmin and Jeongin surprised you with a song cover during your first dance. You can't help but sigh contently at how simple yet loving it felt.

You then wash the dishes while Chan dries them- an easy routine you both fell into as soon as he moved in with you.

You've been married to Chan for a day but you've loved him for what feels like forever.

When the kitchen is clean, you high-five him but he doesn't let your hand go. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing you closer to him.

"I love you", he whispers as his thumb slowly caresses your palm.

"I love you more."

"Impossible."

"But-", Chan silences you with his lips on yours, and you both can't help but smile into the kiss.

When he leans away, he bows down slightly, offering you his hand, "May i have this dance?"

You giggle as you curtsy back, "Yes you may."

Chan twirls you around the kitchen and you feel light as air. You then spin him around and you almost lose your balance, but Chan is there to steady you with a gentle grip.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to look around you. The kitchen is bathed in warm, golden light, and the aroma of freshly made coffee fills the air. You can't help but wonder what you'd look like to an outsider, waltzing in the kitchen with no music on.

But as you gaze up at your husband, you don't find it in you to care. You've come to learn that with Chan, even the silence can sound like the most enchanting melody.

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ioniiaa · 3 months

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My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 3:

Shutting the door to your house, you slide down to the floor, back against the door. Your hands come up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt, heart racing.

Looking around the room, you felt suffocated. Every inch of the wall had some reminder of your husband, paintings, photographs, newspaper clippings of every accomplishment and accolade of his. It made you want to tear your hair out.

A silent scream leaves your throat as tears run down your face. Silent crying was something you've mastered after all these years..

But never have you cried and broken down like this, with something giving you a glimmer of hope. That something was Alastor, he made you feel appreciated, you felt free when you were with him, like all your worries were washed away and you were helplessly in love.

With the realization that you were in love, your hands fell to the ground with a quiet thud. For too long had you suffered the control, the physical and mental abuse at the hands of your husband and your family that only saw you as a pawn- a means to an end for them.

The tears dried up as you sat there silently for hours till the sun rose, feeling like an empty husk of a human. It took you a long time before you could collect yourself.

Though you felt so weak, you had to go out and do some errands. Having to keep up the image of perfect housewife, after all.

With a vacant and empty look in your eyes, you left the house, barely presentable.

You didn't even know what you were going out for, but you'd find something, anything.

During your walk around town, looking for something to buy so you wouldn't go home empty-handed, an odd feeling and urge came over you to take a route home that you've never taken before.

The way you took this time was full of twists and turns, leading to many shady backstreets and alleyways.

One sign reading "Arabella's Apothecary" caught your eye, prompting you to enter.

The door opens with a chime, the shopkeeper giving you a smug smile, "Welcome in dear, how can I help ya this fine morn'?" You nervously tell her that you were just looking around.

The shopkeeper, who you found out was indeed Arabella, like the sign outside indicated, "You know, people don't just come in here for nothin'... Hun, I think we both know you're looking for a key to freedom."

Arabella's words shook you to your core, "A... key? T-to freedom?" You laugh nervously, wondering if this woman was a witch. But then it came to you, maybe you did need... something.

She laughed at your face, "Bwahaha, I can read you like an open book! I'm no witch, I just deal in... specialty medicines, you might say."

After a short conversation with Arabella, you find yourself in possession of some arsenic. This little powder was your freedom, and you thank your lucky stars that fate guided to this back alley hidden apothecary shop.

During the week of your husband's absence, you didn't visit Mimzy's bar at all, actually. You were planning your husband's demise. You had to be methodical, careful, every single minute detail needed to have a plan and a backup plan- including your escape and how you would remove yourself from suspicion of being involved in your husband's death.

When your husband opened the door, announcing his return, you felt a pit form in your stomach. The bile rose in the back of your throat at the thought of freedom being so close and yet so far.

According to your plan, your husband would be dead in the next couple of weeks. It would be hell to not visit Mimzy's bar in hopes of seeing Alastor again, but if everything went according to plan, you'd be free of your shackles. So two weeks, give or take a few days, was nothing compared to the near decade of pain you've had to endure.

There were a few close calls during this time, but your husband was just diagnosed with food poisoning each time until he was found dead at his desk at the office he worked at.

You had slowly poisoned him slowly and consistently enough to evade suspicion. You knew this much when the police came knocking on your door informing you that your husband was found dead. The gates holding back the flood were unlocked, and you crumpled to the floor crying. The police tried to console you, but little did they know that you secretly crying from being overjoyed at the news.

At the funeral, your family and in-laws looked at you with distaste and all they did was tell you to get out of their faces, telling you what a disappointment you were for failing as a wife to keep your husband happy and healthy.

That was all you needed to hear. You turned away from them and left town, not bothering to stop by your home. You left only with the clothes on your body, making your way to Mimzy's bar. If anyone was able to help you, it would be Mimzy, your only true friend in the world.

You get to Mimzy's bar a bit too early, sometime in the evening, as usually the bar only opens late at night. So Mimzy was prepared to ward off any suspicious people that could get the bar/speakeasy in trouble, but she rushed up to you immediately, fawning over you, seeing you in all-black funeral attire with puffy eyes, " (Y/N)! Darlin'!! What happened to you??"

Mimzy ushers you into her office, gives you a warm cup of tea and a blanket as she barrages you with more questions. You smile weakly at her and make her promise not to tell a soul, and she pinky promised that she would take your secrets to the grave. And she kindly offered for you to stay with her as long as you needed.

You took Mimzy up on her offer, but you offered to help out at the bar for as long as you did. It was the only way you would accept her generosity.

-> Part 4

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bimb0fy · 2 months

Text

pure as ice -> luke castellan

ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ; Luke x aphrodite!reader

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ; smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it whores), corruption kink, fingering.

ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ; you were always an innocent little thing, luke loved that, he truly did, yet the thought of corrupting you always won against the adoration.

ʷᵒʳᵈᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ; 790 words

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ!! | ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ!!

-> Luke smirked as he watched you skip along the path, Aphrodite's favorite you were called. She certainly blessed your looks, she certainly favoured you.

Every man, every single one wanted to be with you. Every woman wanted to be you.

You were the purest thing Luke had ever seen.

He felt dirty for picturing your small dainty hands around his cock as he jacked off. Even dirtier when he wished he was in you instead.

He felt attracted to the innocence. He knew it was evil, to ruin something so pretty, so valuable. Yet he didn't care.

He walked to the edges of camp, where you two met during the day. You laid on your stomach, your mini skirt slightly rode up your thigh and it made Luke want you more and more.

You had a pink rose in your hands, smiling at it. Luke set himself down beside you as you smiled, looking up at him with your pretty little eyes looked at him and he couldn't control himself anymore.

Now, you found yourself on the ground, his hands separating your thighs as he looked down at your soaked laced panties, a smirk on his face as your back leaned onto a tree.

"Luke." You muttered as he nodded, looking up at you.

"Sorry baby, I've just been, I've been dreaming for this moment since forever." He laughed as he dove down, licking a strip through your clothed pussy as you let out a moan. "You've never been touched down here right?"

"No." You whispered, biting your lip. You had never even considered masterbating or anything before. That was the first time you felt something, the first time someone touched you, and oh my, you were hooked.

Luke groaned as he changed positions, placing you on top of him, your cunt directly onto his bulge. He thrusted into you once as you let out a groan. "Sorry flowers, I just, fuuck, been waiting for this since the moment I saw you in that pretty dress."

You nodded as you felt him untie the ribbon of your dress, the dress expanding and falling as he stared at your body. You looked better then he had ever imagined.

His mouth latched into your right nipple, his hand playing with your left as you let out a groan. His other hand slid down past your underwear as he lightly grazed your lips.

You let out a moan as you felt him start to rub, unintentionally grinding against him as he groaned.

He pulled out, sliding your panties to the side as he pumped a finger in you. You were a mess, moaning and groaning as you bounced along with him, your tits jumping as he stared at your body.

It was all he ever wanted with you, and he was about to take his sweet time too.

"Luke, I feel something." You moaned as he quickened his pace. The way you clenched around one of his fingers was ecstatic to him.

He pulled out as you let out a cry, unsure of what to feel, the feeling of pressure replaced with hurt.

He spun you around, your stomach on the grass as he pushed your head against the dirt. "It's gonna hurt baby, but trust me, it'll be worth it okay?"

You let out a strained moan as you felt two of his fingers in you. You clutched onto the grass as you heard his groans. You could see his hand fishing for his cock, jacking off as he fingers you.

"Luke, the feelings back." You moaned as he pulled out, licking a strip before spiting in your cunt. You groans as the cold liquid landed onto you.

He raised your legs up, your face held down by his hand as he lined himself with you, he entered you as you let out a loud moan.

He let out a moan as you clenched around him. You were so tight, clipping onto him like a vice. He couldn't control himself as he thrusted into you roughly, causing you to let out moans and whimpers.

"God luke your so big." You muttered as he thrusted faster. He looked down at your pussy as you arched your back, clenching onto him as he watched you give into him.

He watched as the white liquid infect his cock and your thighs. The sight itself sent him over to the edge as he pulled out, emptying the knot onto your back as closed your eyes, taking deep breathes.

"That was fun." You smiled as he set himself beside you. He kissed your forehead, standing up and buttoning his pants as he helped you up.

"C'mon, let's go shower." He whispered in your ear as you giggled.

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

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doumadono · 2 months

Text

Warnings: smut w/o plot, tattoo artist!Bakugo, p in v smut, creampie, fingering, pussy spanking, cunnilingus, f!reader

Synopsis: since the tattoo you opted for proved to be quite painful, your boyfriend and tattoo artist, Bakugo, decided to pamper you for being brave and enduring the discomfort

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

Katsuki, with his chiseled jaw and muscular arms, was the most sought-after tattoo artist in town. His reputation for creating breathtaking masterpieces on skin was only surpassed by his smoldering gaze and irresistible charm.

You, his girlfriend, felt incredibly lucky to have him.

The day arrived when you decided to get inked. You knew Katsuki would take care of you, and the thought of his skilled hands and passionate eyes devoted to your body made you quiver with anticipation, even though you two slept together many times already. The design was chosen – a delicate, intricate flower to adorn your pubis.

As you lay on his tattoo chair, Katsuki's hands traced the outline of the flower on your skin. His proximity was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but feel a shiver of pleasure as the needle touched your skin. The sensation was unique, a blend of pain and pleasure that Katsuki soothed with his tender touch and comforting whispers.

But the pain intensified as he filled in the petals of the rose, and you whimpered, clutching the armrest of the chair tightly. Katsuki paused, locking eyes with you, his gaze filled with concern. "Baby, you're doing great," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your tummy.

After he completed the tattoo, Katsuki ordered you to take a break and relax when he placed the tattoo gun down and prepared a special soap and a paper towel. With gentlest touches, Katsuki cleaned your tattoo, preparing it to be wrapped once it would be fully dry. He then pushed your leggins and panties fully down your legs, leant forward, gently parting your thighs. His touch was warm, and you gasped as he traced his fingers along the newly inked area, teasing your sensitive skin.

"You're so brave, you know that?" he murmured, peppering your inner thigh with kisses. His lips were soft, igniting a fire within you. "Let me take care of you now for being such a brave girl, hmmm?"

Katsuki teased you, blowing gently on your sensitive skin, making you squirm and gasp. Soon, his tongue darted out, tracing your slit. Then, without warning, he slapped your pussy.

You moaned as the sensation sent shockwaves through your body. "Kats!"

Katsuki's hands held your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he feasted on your pussy. His moans of pleasure reverberated against your skin, fueling your own desire. The blonde haired man buried his face in your pussy, his tongue seeking out your swollen clit once more. He sucked and nibbled your slick fold, growling like an animal.

You could feel the tension from the pain dissipate, replaced by an all-consuming passion. "Yes, Katsuki, just like that," you begged, your voice wavering.

He growled in response, his tongue delving deeper, swirling around your clit as his crimson eyes locked on yours as he sucked your lips into his mouth, shaking his head left to right to create the friction you craved so badly.

You writhed, unable to control the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You cried out as you reached your peak, your orgasm ripping through every inch of your body as your pussy clenched painfully around nothing, leaving you in need. "Oh, tiger!"

Katsuki didn't relent, his tongue lapping up your release. He looked up at you, his lips glistening with your wetness. "You taste so fucking good, baby," he growled, his eyes dark with lust. He slid a finger inside you, feeling your slick warmth, then added a second. He began to fuck you with his fingers, while his tongue continued to work its magic on your little clit. Katsuki increased his pace, his fingers sliding in and out of you with ease. He curled them, searching for that elusive spot that would send you over the edge yet again.

When he found it, your back arched off the chair, and a keening wail escaped your parted lips. You reached down, threading your fingers through his ash-blonde hair, pulling him closer. "I need you inside me," you demanded, your voice husky.

Katsuki grinned, pulling his fingers out of you and slowly licking them clean while standing up to unzip his tight jeans. He pushed his pants and boxed briefs down his legs, just under the curve of his ass so he could freed his fat cock, which sprung up, resting proudly against his abdomen. He entered you slowly, savoring the moment.

You gasped as he filled you, your bodies melding together.

The rhythm was intense, a primal dance that left you breathless. Katsuki's moans filled the room, punctuated by the slapping of skin against skin. "Fuck, you feel so good, babe," he grunted, his thrusts becoming faster, harder.

You wrapped your leg around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. Your moans melded with his, creating a symphony of pleasure. "Yes, holy shit!"

The pleasure mounted, and you cried out as you came again, your release triggering Katsuki's.

He groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he emptied his heavy balls into you. Breathless, Katsuki lowered himself onto you, his head resting on your chest as his cock was still buried in your pussy.

You ran your fingers through his hair, savoring the moment. "I love you," you whispered, your voice shaky. "Thank you for tattooing me."

Bakugo withdrew, watching as his cum mixed with your juices, spilling out of your pussy and onto the chair beneath you. He leaned down, his tongue tracing a path from your pussy to your clit, tasting the mixture of your lovemaking. "I love you too, baby," Katsuki replied, a smile in his voice. "Oi! Babe, I wouldn't let anyone else tattoo you in such an intimate spot, you know that. No one else can watch your pussy but me."

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stvolanis · 3 months

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Farleigh with an innocence kink for Felix’s friend that he brings home for the summer?

love this sm. I made Farleigh kinda a perv sorry😭 (not sorry) reader is naive and too innocent‼️

Farleigh Start! Who didn’t think much of it when Felix mentioned bringing someone home with them for the summer, and quite honestly didn’t care. till he seen you.

Farleigh Start! Who’s thoughts were only filled of doing vile things to you as he shook your hand, Felix introducing the two of you. The skirt you wore when you first met while forever be engraved into his dirty mind; a lace baby pink with small flower designs on the frill, but what he remembers the most, was the way it barely covered your ass.

Farleigh Start! Who thought you knew what you were doing when you’d suck on your little cherry lollipops everyday, or when you’d lick your popsicles from the base to the tip to prevent the juices running down. Hell, he almost confronted you when you bent over in front of him while wearing your thin bikini that left little to the imagination; but you were truly oblivious.

Farleigh Start! Whos dick hardened at the way you blushed profusely, trying to avoid eye contact the day in the meadow when they were all naked. His eyes had zoned in on how you squeezed your thighs together when you glanced at his body. Of course, you were the only fully clothed one there. Farleigh made sure of that. No one was ever going to get to see you naked but him.

Farleigh Start! Who shares a bathroom with you; the both of your rooms connected. He’ll quietly crack the door open, just enough to see you undress and take your place in your rose petal filled bath. God, it smelled heavenly to him.

Farleigh Start! Who makes dirty jokes around you, only to grip his cock through his pants discreetly when you either give him a look of confusion, or embarrassment. Or, when you sit next to dinner he’ll rest his hand on the plush of your thigh, telling you it was just a “friendly gesture” as he squeezed. And of course, you’d believe him, why wouldn’t you? Farleighs an amazing friend!

Farleigh Start! Who keeps you close to him and scares off drunken men, and even a few women, who tried to hit on you at one of the many parties they hosted throughout the summer. Acting as your own body guard, even going as far as beating one man to a pulp for grazing his hand over your ass.

Farleigh Start! Who you beg to tell you about sex one day, seeing as you were the closest to him, and he sees this as his opportunity to finally taint the dainty aura of innocence you head floating around your pretty little mind.

Farleigh Start! Who reluctantly sits you down on your bed, watching as you clutched your stuffed bunny to your chest; peering up at him through lashes as the filthiest words slipped past your strawberry lips. “What’s masturbate?” You asked with a tilt of you head. He inhaled deeply. “Masturbation.” He corrected you.

Farleigh Start! Who merely said, “let me show you.” As he, right then and there, whipped out his throbbing member, standing tall against his lean stomach. He watched as you dropped to your knees unknowingly in front of him with awestruck eyes. “What’s this?” You asked. “S’my cock. It likes you.” He chuckled out as he watched your brows furrow when it twitched.

Farleigh Start! Who gave you the okay to touch his cock, letting you play around with it for a little bit. He hissed when your finger skimmed over his weeping tip. “I’m sorry.” You rushed out. He groaned. “That’s alright, didn’t hurt me. Felt real good, baby.” He reassured with a smile.

Farleigh Start! Who instructed you how to give your first hand job. “Tighten your fist, sweetheart. Juuusstt like thattt..” he bit out as you stroked up and down his shaft with a tightened fist. He gripped the pink sheets beneath him, trying to restrain himself from forcing his cock into your mouth and down your throat.

Farleigh Start! Who was losing his self control as you’d look up at him with blown-out, lust filled eyes. The fact that you had no idea just how amazing you were making him feel had him close to the edge. His groans getting more louder as he grew breathless.

Farleigh Start! Who painted your face white when you batted your lashes up at him with the hesitant question of, “Am I doing a good job, Farleigh?” Your lost little puppy dog eyes had him folding. You flinched in surprise as what you learned was his cum, landed on your cheeks, nose, and mouth.

Farleigh Start! Who instructed you to open your mouth, scooping up the cum on your face before shoving it into your mouth. Your oral fixation kicked in as you sucked around his thumb. “Good girl, baby. Made me feel so fuckin’ good. My best girl.” He said as he kissed your head.

“Now, let’s take care of that little ache you have down there, hm, Princess?”

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @parkbabyj

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stvharrngton · 7 months

Text

kinktober: day one

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

kink: cream pie

word count: 0.9k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, unprotected p in v, cream pie

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

The day you got on birth control, Steve was like a man possessed. You had raised the premise nonchalantly, whilst the boy was between your legs, tongue swirling around your pussy as you blurted out the fact that you had now been prescribed a certain little pill.

You had stopped him in his tracks, his wide brown eyes looking up at you from the apex of your thighs, your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Your fingers went to his hair, raking through the soft strands pulling the boy from his trance.

“Does that mean—?”

“Yes,” you cut him off, bucking your hips just enough to urge him back to what he was doing before.

“Fuck,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your doughy thighs in a bruising grip. Putting all his attention back to your dripping core, working you as best he could.

Steve’s eyes were closed as he groaned obscenely into your pussy, licking and sucking on your aching clit. You were soon hurtling towards the edge, sparks shooting through your body as your vision went fuzzy and your head went dizzy. Fingers tugging on Steve’s hair as you ground your pussy on Steve’s mouth.

The boy made quick work of his own underwear before sitting on his hunches between your legs, stroking over his stiff cock as he gazed at you through hazy eyes. Spitting in his palm, he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his free hand found itself placed on your thigh, thumb stroking soothingly over the sensitive skin.

So you hooked your legs over Steve’s hips, your feet crossed at the small of his back, pulling him closer to you. Your foreheads were almost pressed together, the points of your noses knocking as you whispered against his lips, “Please.”

“Shit, okay—,” Steve murmured, swallowing the lump in his throat, exhaling a moan against your lips as he let the tip of his cock press into your hole. A moan which you gladly swallowed.

Steve began to roll his hips slow and deep against your own, his cock dragging out of your pussy at an agonising pace only for your cunt to suck him back in every single time. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his large palm clutching at your hip.

The sweet little moans and whines you breathed out below him along with the intense feeling of you wholly wrapped around him was pushing him towards his climax embarrassingly fast, the boy blurting out, “I don’t know, fuck, how much longer I can last, baby,” he whined, his skin shone with a thin sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, “pussy feel so. fucking. good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you cried, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he picked up the pace now, his hips snapping against your own, the sound of skin slapping against skin sounding throughout your bedroom. All your thoughts incoherent, all your attempt at sentence complete nonsense as Steve fucked his thick cock in and out of your cunt.

Poor Steve tried to hold off as long as he could but it was no use, you felt too good, too warm, too wet. He tried to savour every moment of this latex-free rendezvous but the way you clenched around him with every thrust really did a number on his brain. He slithered a hand between your bodies in an attempt to lazily rub at your clit, egging you on to finish with him.

“Baby, I gotta cum,” he whined, hips beginning to stutter, his stomach beginning to tense, “where can I cum, pretty girl? Please tell me, fuck.” He pleaded, begged rather. The intense feeling building up in his lower stomach was becoming too much to bear.

“Inside me,” it came out strangled, a hoarse moan as you whimpered, nails digging into Steve’s broad shoulders, raking up his tan skin, “want you to cum inside me, Stevie, please?”

Cock growing impossibly stiffer, his heart thumping on overtime, if he wasn’t buried inside you to the hilt he’d ask you to pinch him. The pure thought of seeing his cum leaking from your pussy, the creamy white thick and warm inside you, sent Steve into overdrive.

He held himself up on his elbow whilst his hand cupped your cheek, his lips hot and wet on yours in a searing kiss. His hips still working against you, his fingers still rubbing at your puffy clit, both of your climaxes on the brink.

“Just like that,” you cried, “don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You arched your back off the sheets, pressing your chest against Steve’s hairy one, your skin buzzing as everything became hot and tingly, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, his hips unrelenting against you, “gonna stuff you full of my cum, pretty girl, is that what you want, huh?” He asked, “Wanna have my cum dripping from that pretty little pussy?”

“Yes!” you whined, pleading with Steve to give you what you wanted, which he always did. His thrusts began to grow sloppy, the boy taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he came undone above you.

Steve moaned that sweet little moan as he filled you with his cum, his chest heaving as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on your skin tough. His thighs shook as his toes curled, grumbling and groaning incoherent mumblings of praise and pussydrunk filth.

The sight before him when he finally pulled his cock from you was one he would never forget. Your pussy wet with your own juices and creamy with Steve’s cum leaking from your hole. He reached his fingers out to you, careful not to overstimulate you, spreading the stickiness over your puffy lips.

Having you spent like this, dripping with Steve’s cum was truly a sight for very sore eyes.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things fan fiction #k.fic #kinktober2023

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elvirable · 7 months

Text

Ambrosia (Act 1)

[ Astarion x f!Reader ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 2k | status: ongoing themes/tags: vaginal sex, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light smut.. for now, and a whole lotta angst, will add more smut tho in the next chapters, soulmates, fluff, written as a glimpse into his mind during each act ———–

Astarion would never tell you, though - it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

In other words: A delve into Astarion's thoughts, starting with the day he met you. *will update description at some point. ———– A/N: i wrote this as a peek into Astarion's mind throughout Act 1. plan to continue as i progress throughout the game. lmk what you think and if you like this style!

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Grief had a penchant for wearing different masks.

Phantom faces that slithered through shadows, white-hot wrath that clawed at the throat, an endless gnawing that swallowed one whole: all faces of a primordial monster that had existed before time itself.

Astarion knew all this.

He had met them all – intimate with its simplest form, a cold polarizing solitude; a loyal companion for two centuries, teaching him to lick his wounds with malice. Others had taken everything from him, or they were too weak to lift a meaningful finger. It took several lifetimes to finally mend his precious pride back together. Why should he practice mercy when no one had shown him any?

And by some stroke of luck, he was free – at least for now. Opportunity had fallen before his feet; he could chase after power, clutch revenge in his pale fingers, walk amongst the sun. Red eyes clung to the light glimmering across the water and wavering leaves. A desperate urge pulsed up his spine, insisting he memorize each saturated detail before it faded away like the most ethereal dream. The exhilaration rose wildly before plummeting to the pits of his stomach.

Huh, that was odd. It had never dawned on him that grief could also bloom in the slow, golden sunlight.

Languid beams washed against his flesh and through the faint hem of his shirt. Every fiber of his skin ached, dull and shallow, at the sacred warmth that had been a stranger for so long. He felt this haunted and holy gift – the vigor of life from each ray of light running over his fair face. Reunited once again, like long-lost lovers.

It was the sound of boots thudding against dirt that pulled him back into the world, on the ravaged beachfront.

With straight posture, a hollow smile painted itself across his lips. ==

“You have your mother’s eyes, you know.”

No, he didn’t know.

Quiet was this small voice that, for some odd reason, had grasped onto his conscience the night he died. It had sung loud in the beginning, but now it was just a whisper. Everything else had reduced to dust, long-buried beneath the cold earth.

But if he could conjure the ghost of his mother, he couldn’t be bothered to. Astarion envisioned a sharp tsk , a scowl dripping with disgust if she could see the creature he was today: a thrall to his own hedonistic desires, wielding manipulation and seduction as an instrument. A vampire , taking solace amongst the shadows and draining the life around him.

Maybe he was the same, just calloused and rearranged by the fate spun for him.

However, there was no need to exhume the past. It proved futile anyway; he couldn’t even recall the previous hue of his eyes, much less run his hands over his reflection. The only thing worthy of concern was survival. Memories had been shrouded by the same pivotal virtue, the one that carved the habit to become shapeless – to cater to every impulse and whim of those who could serve useful. Those who could protect him, at least for the time being.

And that was exactly what he tried with you, as his breath was inches from your slender neck and your eyes widened in hazy alarm, catching him by surprise.

“Shit.”

You scuttered to your feet in the frantic silence, dozens of excuses fluttering to Astarion’s tongue. The fatigue of bloodthirst hindered his wit, but he raised his palms in reservation.

He had already taken note of your misleading presence – you were small, but heavens , would you put up a fight. Other companions had already turned towards you for guidance the past few days, and you were carved with a beauty that could intimidate. Though, there were cracks underneath that facade – ones with darkness in between.

Peering into these cracks was his only outlet to earn your trust; after all, it was paramount for survival.

“I – I wasn’t going to hurt you,” exasperated breaths pushed from his throat. “I just needed, well.. blood.”

Basked in the dim firelight, your wary gaze studied him for what he really was: a vampire, a slave to sanguine hunger. He caught the stutter in your furrowed brows before they eased. Smug delight settled in his nerves when you, although with apprehension, allowed him to taste you.

Astarion eagerly obliged, immediately losing himself in the euphoria– the sweet vigor of your blood, how silky and rich. A low hum vibrated in his throat, and he barely registered when your palms pushed his broad weight off of you. Lush satisfaction that quenched his blood-thirst still coursed through him like a stimulant, but he still caught the tail-end of your groan.

“I don’t care that you’re a vampire. Just –,” you paused briefly to reel from your daze. “We’re all a team now, so I have to have some trust in you. Just ask next time.”

He felt happy, more alive – not only from the fresh blood still lingering on his tongue, but that you trusted him. Maybe not entirely, but the anchor had already been dropped; one step closer to wrapping you around his finger, even if you weren’t entirely flexible. He could feel it in your gaze, in the little quivers that rolled through you while his fangs sunk into your soft skin.

Once you had returned to sleep and his frenzied nerves quelled, he mulled over your parting words. You weren’t phased’ that he was a vampire, instead placing emphasis on trust. You were full of surprises – especially when the entire world met him with repulse.

Something that had been fossilized inside him tremored, as if it began to thaw. ==

There was a thin chill in the evening air, in the way nature prepares for a new season. And he hated you.

Well, he didn’t hate you – frankly, he couldn’t get enough of you; that was the issue.

You plagued his thoughts like a helpless addiction, better yet like a mirror; one he had repeatedly peered into, struggling to find the right angle and when he did – he was left staring at you.

Those careful eyes – a mocking reminder of everything he could have been. So different, so resilient, so disgustingly kind.

Since the day he laid eyes on you, he was the first to glimpse at your secret hidden in plain sight. Your habit of hiding yourself from everyone you came across, retreating behind stone-bared walls and tailoring a facade just enough to avoid drawing attention. Reserved lips were a mere confirmation you sealed away a vault of grief that you didn’t want – or need – clumsy, temporary hands to pry open.

That discreet resolve particularly made you the sour dagger twisting between his ribs. Grief had been your companion as well, but its mark never trickled from anywhere else – not a warbled voice or frustrated bout. It was only noticeable through a fleeting glint in your eyes. Meanwhile, he had made this medley of rage and anguish his armor. It had fused to skin, and he no longer knew how to scrape it off. Astarion dedicated decades to cursing the Gods. You ignored them.

He knew he should despise you and eagerly await the day he could shatter this mirror you were – but all bitterness dissolved in your presence. You had become his wonderfully terrible affliction; withdrawals could damn near kill him if they were to happen.

Ribbons unraveled from his chest with each conversation, whether it pertained to the graveness of the journey or a simple ‘good morning’ from your lips. Strange yet blissful, he could feel himself surrendering every bitter pang for the peculiar sensation of… comfort .

Once laced with such harshness, his mind eased with familiarity. An interesting chord of harmony, he thought, the two of you. From the start of the journey until now, you shared an enriching balance. He would encourage you to be more outspoken, while you stirred him to be authentic and soft – even if you weren’t aware.

You were stable like bedrock; never once expecting to be selfless or pious, instead only demanded transparency – at least to the extent he was willing to concede. Aside from the occasional brow-raise or retort, judgment never twisted your face. Respect was a new sensation to him, as you gave him yours.

This dynamic, this balance ; it was irresistibly and invariably warm.

The rendezvous sort of just fell into habit.

Every night he would savor the ambrosia from your neck, and one evening tension gave way to carnal desire. Whether it was a simple cathartic release or not, he didn’t care; tender moments bathed in amber firelight or the hush of the night had always left him craving more.

“You’re such a tease .”

You’d whisper those words every so often those sacred nights, and a rakish grin would slide across his face without fail. Lust gripped him, but never once weaved with routine; the way your legs parted to invite him in left Astarion with an insatiable urge to indulge in everything you were willing to give him. He could spend the entire evening with his head between your thighs, cold hands steadying your quivering legs as his tongue lured you to new heights of pleasure – giving you exactly what you needed.

When he was with you – skin pressed together, desperate hums like honey – he began to relish in taking things slow.

He preferred the nights where your bare body writhed beneath him and melted against his, while he eagerly coaxed wispy whines from your lips. No matter how wet and ready you were, his girth always met resistance as he parted your warm, sensitive walls. Your skin buzzed at the sensation of his cock splitting you open, like every time was the first you’ve been touched.

Desire laced every word he whispered into the curve of your neck, each encouraging and soft. His pace was slow, pushing into the depth of your core, buried deep enough to kiss your cervix with each thrust. Low, guttural grunts left his throat as your body’s natural instinct clenched around his throbbing cock.

Despite his centuries of experience, he found himself struggling to restrain from succumbing to the all-consuming euphoria of it all: your lashes wet from your tears, precious gasps warm against his skin, the desirous ache to fuck you the way that pretty face beckoned to be fucked.

The unbridled intimacy – which felt so real and tender was enough to send him over the edge. His veins hummed with yearning as he drank in the vision beneath him; your skin flushed, shaky whines that sung his name as he pushed you to pleasure. And when you wrapped your legs to press him deeper – he surrendered to the white-hot bliss.

Although Astarion would never tell a soul, his most treasured moments were spent after desperate breaths calmed and the entire world stilled.

It was never long before you lulled into sleep, and your weight slacked against his broad chest. He lingered over each detail with softer eyes; the gentle curl of your lashes, a freckle he had missed the last time. Peace graced such beautiful features, ones that were usually still with resolve. There had never been another face quite like yours in the two centuries he had lurked amongst the earth.

Your chest rose and fell slowly before you would eventually fidget, still deep in slumber, to slink an arm over his waist. His gentle hand grasped the one that rested against his chest, careful not to stir you, as he ran his fingers over your silk skin. Such delicate hands, he mused, that had to grapple their way through life.

He pressed a silent kiss against the back of your palm before laying it back on his chest.

In the silence, something washed over him – that rousing feeling that he never knew quite what to make of.

His eyes swept once more to watch the shuffle of your face, buried now against his side. Your hazy sighs warmed his bare skin. Astarion could almost laugh, imagining your face reddening if he ever shared how affectionate you were in your sleep.

Though he would never tell you – it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

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vanteguccir · 4 days

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Matt x pregnant!reader who is craving katchup. Just how he would react to her wanting to eat it with everything and his way to deal with it, considering he hates it. (Not sure if this makes a full story, so if you want to just talk about it, it’s okay).

I LOVE YOUR IDEA!!! dad!Matt always gets me 😭🥺

And yes, since it would end in a super little short fic, I made a quick blurb! I hope you like it 🩷

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt Sturniolo x pregnant!reader

Y/N's senses came back with force on the Tuesday morning, a strange urge in her stomach bombarding her from every side of her body. She looked at the clock beside the bed with sleepy eyes and frowned when she saw that it was only six o'clock in the morning.

"Ketchup." She muttered to herself in a low tone. "I need ketchup."

Matt, her husband, was lying next to her, still sleeping peacefully, his right arm wrapped protectively around her 8-month belly. The woman hesitated for a moment, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and curiosity. Should she wake him up to satisfy her bizarre ketchup craving? She shook her head, deciding to let him rest.

Carefully sliding out of bed, Y/N put on her light pink robe - which was draped over Matt's gaming chair - and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air, having been made automatically by the coffee machine on the counter, but all she could think about was the taste of ketchup.

Y/N opened the fridge and found a bottle hidden behind some jars of jelly. With a satisfied smile, she leaned over and picked it up, clutching it as if it were the most precious item in the world, before opening one of the drawers on the counter next to the stove and taking out a spoon, opening the lid of the industrialized product and starting to devour it pure.

While she was there, deep in her strange morning desire, Matt appeared in the kitchen doorway, his hands rubbing his sleepy eyes and his clothes rumpled, showing that he had just gotten up. He looked at her with a confused expression, his blue eyes running over her figure leaning against the gray refrigerator.

"What the hell are you doing, sweetheart?" He asked, yawning loudly.

Y/N shrugged, embarrassed.

"I don't know. I just... need ketchup, I guess."

Matt raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but deciding not to say anything else, if there was anything he had learned during those 8 months, it was that you shouldn't question a pregnant woman. Instead, he simply approached her and wrapped his arms around her body, kissing the top of her head lovingly.

"I'll make breakfast." He said softly. "With... ketchup, if you want." His voice came out reluctantly, remnants of his feeling of disgust for the product dripping into his sentence.

Y/N smiled brightly, feeling grateful for her husband's silent support, nodding her head quickly. Together, they prepared a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, her dishes all covered generously with ketchup.

Throughout the day, Y/N continued to have strange cravings for ketchup. She put it on her salad, her turkey sandwich, and even her pizza. Matt looked at his wife with a mixture of disgust and horror, but he didn't say a word of protest, swallowing hard as the nausea rose in his throat each time the smell of the sauce rose to his nostrils.

Late in the afternoon, as Y/N devoured a burger covered in ketchup, she finally felt satisfied. The woman looked at Matt with a tired smile, feeling grateful for his unwavering support.

"Thanks for letting me eat all that ketchup today." She joked shyly, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"It's not my favorite, but if it makes you happy, then I'm happy too." Matt shrugged, smiling back at her, glancing from the corner of his eye at the red bottle still on the table.

Y/N leaned her body slightly towards him, making a small pout, expecting a kiss, but all she received was Matt's palm pressing against her lips gently.

"Go brush your teeth first, honey. Everything has a limit."

#vante asks #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader fluff #fluff #pregnant!reader #husband!matt #matthew sturniolo x reader

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steveshairychest · 1 year

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Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

#blegh hate this but you can have it #my allergies are really bad today #been sneezing like crazy #my eyes are so itcjy and watery i could hardly see the keyboard #BUT OH WELL #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

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cyn-write · 2 months

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“From the First Time that You…”

Prompt - NRC is in upheaval. A video of Yuu singing a song has been circling around the school about her being "bewitched," and everyone is trying to figure out by who. Yuu is embarrassed and upset about her private song being the subject of gossip, so she decides to hide from everyone only for her crush to find her and reveal he has been "bewitched," by her...

Pairings - Heartstyble x F!Yuu

Warnings - Very Shy Yuu, Stagefright (Yuu again), Fluff, Fluff, and More Fluff

Song - “Bewitched” by Laufey

Prologue - Heartsyble (Here) - Savannaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignanhyde - Diasmonia

Riddle couldn't get Yuu's song out of his head. He found himself humming it at random moments in the day. Trey and Cater noticed this as well, and they also knew about Riddle's feelings towards the Ramshackle perfect. After Cater pointed it out at Breakfast, Riddle stopped and shook it off. He tried to ignore the fluttering in hie chest when he heard the lyrics or even though about them, but it didn't work. He confessed this to his friends, and they encouraged Riddle to go to her. To sedate their pestering, he agreed to go later with her work.

He was also more defensive than usual as he heard his classmates gossip about his dear friend. He had collared more students than usual for gambling and breaking the most minuet rules. His dormmates worried that he was slipping back into his old habits after making and trying so hard to change.

At the end of the day, he found himself walking towards Ramshackle. He told himself it was to give her the work she missed, but his heart was pounding in his chest. As he stood outside her door, he stole himself for a moment and dared to hope.

"Yuu... I just want you to know you've bewitched me too..."

When Yuu opened the door, Riddle could see it in her eyes. Relief. Relief and hope for returned affections.

"Really? D-do you mean it?" She said, her notebook clutched to her side. She was just as nervous as he was.

Riddle nodded and said, "Yes, I have for a long time now. I just..." He took a deep breath to steady himself, but never looked away from her eyes, "I didn't want to risk loosing you, but now, if you will have me, I would love to properly court you."

Riddle held out his hand to her, and for a second, he thought he made a mistake, but she broke that tension with a tight hug.

"Yes," she whispered into his ear.

He wrapped his arms around her, and all their tension disappeared. They sunk into each other and nearly fell to the floor. Riddle was able to keep them up, and when they parted, he could see the relief in her eyes. He couldn't help but smile and the beautiful rose who held his heart.

"By the way, you have a gorgeous voice. Like the White Roses of the Queendom courts," He said and cupped her face in his hand, "with the mind of the rhyming hatter."

This made her giggle. He had never seen her shine so bright as she did now. Her laugh made him do something crazy but that is what her spell did to him. He leaned in and kissed her in a sweep of passion.

And of all things, she kissed him back.

He may be the Mage, but she truly was Bewitching.

Weeks later, after building up a lot of courage, she asked, her now boyfriend, Riddle to come over. When he did, she sang him a song he saw in her notebook, a song for the Queen of Hearts from his White Rose: "La Vie En Rose"

Ace knew the song was about him. From the lyrics to the way she had been acting recently, he just knew! He had to tell her he felt the same. He tried to tell her that night, but Grim and his dormmates said she wanted to be alone. He tried calling and texting her, but received no answer. The next morning, he waited for her like he and the rest of the first years did every morning, but she never came out. He then waited for her in class but she never appeared. He started to worry as all his text and calls were ignored as well as everyone else's.

His mood also soured as he kept hearing his classmates bet and gossip about his friend. He snapped at almost everyone, and his temper was worse than Riddle's. He was so mad that he almost got into a fight at one point with an Octavinelle student who was collecting bets. By the end of the day, after a grueling Basketball practice, Ace had enough. He had to talk to Yuu NOW. He ran out of the Locker room, hair still wet from the shower, and darted to Ramshackle. He made it to the door, out of breath and wet, and the ghost finally let him in. He made it to Yuu's door and paused. What if he was reading this wrong? What if he was betting on feelings that were not there?... well there is no other way to find out.

He knocked on the door and paused, "Yuu. It's Ace. Open up!" He waited for a second, his confidence waining as he poured his heart out, "Please... I... I need to tell you. Your song, I... I don't know if I'm reading this wrong, but I need you to know, you've Bewitched me too..."

Ace was about to leave, thinking maybe his assumptions were wrong, but before he could turn away, the door opened. Yuu looked at him with doe eyes and he knew. She loved him to.

Wet. Exhausted. And Relieved. Yuu and Ace embraced. They stayed like that for a few moments before Yuu muttered.

"Thank you for showering before you came over..."

Ace chuckled at his shy friend turned crush finally breaking out of her shell. A side she reserved for those closest to her and the side that made Ace's heart swell.

"Jamil shoved me in the shower. Since someone has been ignoring my calls and text all day, I nearly ran over sweaty and in uniform." He pulled away to look Yuu in her lovely eyes that scared him all day, "If you ever do something like that again, I will cover you in sweat and not shower for a week."

That made her laugh for the first time all day, "You'll be punishing Heartsyble more than me. Riddle and Deuce may chase you with a hose and soap if you do."

"I'll tell them it's your fault," he said, ruffling her hair, "Then you'll have to deal with my stink!"

Yuu couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Fine, Fine, I won't do that again!" When she got the giggles out, she looked at her notebook and said, "I-I just didn't know what to say, I was-am so embarrassed."

"Why? You have a great voice!" He said and his hand moved from her head to her cheek, "I can't believe you've been holding out on us,"

She looked up at him and a blush spread across her cheeks. "I write songs to help figure out my feelings. It felt like everyone was hearing a secret I wasn't ready to tell."

He leaned into her and placed his forehead on top of hers, "Well, when your ready, I can't wait to hear all your hearts secrets, and when you do, I'll tell you mine."

Yuu smiled and placed her hand on his cheek, "One day..."

"One day... but today, I'm happy I get to finally call you mine~" Always One for taking chances, Ace titled his head and kissed her.

After relentless asking and patient waiting on Ace's part, Yuu finally felt ready to sing for him. One night when Ace was sleeping over, Yuu brought out her notebook and opened to a song she wrote about her trickster - "Golden Hour"

Deuce had been in guard dog mode all day. Anytime someone made a comment about Yuu or her song, he would flip back to his old self. Ace and the other first years had to hold him back from decking two second-year Pomefoire Students debating whether Vil or Epel were the song's subject. It reached the point where Crewel let Deuce leave class early to deliver Yuu her missing work because he "looked like a caged hound about to attack." On his way out, someone said something that got him thinking: "Why's he all worked up? Not like he likes her or something." This got him thinking. As he walked to Ramshackle, he started to think about Why he was so protective beyond she was "just a friend." Whenever he thought about his feelings towards Yuu for more than two seconds, it made his heart pound and head feel light. He described this feeling to his mom to try to understand what was happening, and she asked him if he had a crush. He brushed it off at the time, but now he thought about it seriously. Did he have a crush on Yuu? Did he have feelings for her? Is that why the song made his stomach flutter and cheeks burn? Yuu seemed to blush as much as he did when their hands brushed against each other so it had to be... Oh Sevens. Then suddenly it hit him - He was Bewitched by her and She him and he had to tell her. Before heading over to Ramshackle, he stopped at the botanical gardens and picked some flowers. He remembered his mom saying something about bringing someone flowers when they are sad and people in movies did it enough that it had to be a standard. So with a messy bouquet of flowers in hand, Deuce stood outside Yuu's door. Shaking from nerves. Heart pounding in his ears. and determined to confess his feelings. He knocked on Yuu's door, took a deep breath, and said, "Yuu, I... I don't know if you feel the same but I want you to know. You've bewitched me too..."

It took all of Duece's control not to crush the flowers or shake all the leaves off them. After a few shaky breaths, Yuu opened the door. Neither spoke out of nerves, but they didn't need to. They stared into eachothers eyes and knew.

They both felt the same.

By complete accident and unbeknownst to both.

They had Bewitched each other and fallen in love.

Deuce was captivated by her and was mentally kicking himself for not realizing this earlier. He tried to speak, but his words kept getting caught in his throat. "U-um... ah..."

Yuu looked at the flowers and blush crept onto her face, "a-are those for me?"

Deuce looked down at the poor flowers he was using as a stress ball and nodded ferriously, "Y-yes! For you! I mean aaah..."

He was redder than Riddle on a bad day, but this only made him more endearing to Yuu. She gently took his flowers and brought them to her nose.

She smiled as she smiled them, "Thank you, I needed this..." she looked at him then looked away, "I-I needed you too..."

Deuce didn't know what to say, so he just hugged her. He was incredibly gentle as he wrapped his arms around her and she him. He found it easier to speak when he didn't look directly at her.

"I need you too..." He rested his head atop hers and finally found the words he needed to say, "Yuu, I know I am not the smartest, the best looking, or wealthiest person in the school. There are so many better choices than me... but I... I will give you everything I can. I'll protect you. I'll support you... and I will work ten times harder to be an Honor Student and be worthy enough to stand next to you." His arms tightened around her slightly as if this hug solidified the promise.

"Deuce, you don't need to prove anything or change a single thing about you." She pulls back and places a hand on his cheek and forces Deuce to look into her eyes. "You are incredible already. You're so kind and dedicated. You try your hardest at everything you do and are so earnest. I want to work harder to be more like you..." she gently strokes his cheek with her thumb and smiles at him, "I-I know we both have stuff to work on, but I am willing to work with you and support you... if that's what you want too?"

Deuce was enraptured by her and found himself swept up in emotion and passion. All fear and embarrassment pushed aside - he kissed her.

And to his suprise and delight, she kissed him back. When they separated, all Deuce could do was smile, "I want nothing more!"

For a moment, Deuce didn't feel like an awkward ex-delinquent pretending to be an honor student. He felt like a Card Knight with the Queens Singing Flower in his arms.

Deuce respected Yuu's privacy and was overjoyed with any bits Yuu was willing to share. And the more they spend time together, the more comfortable Yuu was sharing her songs with Deuce. Then, one evening, while relaxing in Ramshackle, Yuu was perusing her notebook, showing Deuce some of the songs. When they crossed one song, as he read the lyrics, she started to sing for her Spade Knight - "What Love Will Do to You"

Trey hated confronting his own feelings, but Yuu's song made him do just that. He usually baked to clear his head, but he had to get through a day of classes first. Every time he heard Yuu's name or mention of her song and it's subject, Trey's heart panged with a hollow feeling, and his patients was tested. And by the time clubs rolled around it nearly broke. At the beginning of the club meeting, a few of his clubmates were discussing one of the many betting pots and he heard his name thrown around.

"... you see the way he treats her, it has to be Trey!" One of the Heartsyble students in his year said.

"Eeeh, I think it's more brotherly than romantic. Besides why would she pick Trey when she has literal Princes interested in her? He's just a Baker." A Scarbia student remarked.

Just a Baker.... Just a Baker... why dose that hurt so much?

"-Clover! Watch what you're doing!" Rook took the beaker out of Trey's hand and pulled him away from the caldron before it spewed yellow smoke that smelled like rotten milk. Trey snapped out of it and didn't even register that Rook called him his actual last name.

"Sevens, Thanks Rook." Trey pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "I don't know what came over me..."

"Rose Chevalier, why don't you retire early?" Rook suggested, "You are suffering from La maladie d'amour,"

Trey shook his head and nodded, "Thanks Rook..."

Taking Rook's advice, Trey left club early. He went straight to the Heartsyble kitchen and began to do what he did best, bake. As he rolled out dough and mixed strawberry filling, he began to think about Yuu. He has had feelings for her since Riddle's overblot, but pushed them aside for the sake of their friendship... and out of fear. Despite how angry it made him, his clubmate was right. He was just a Baker. Not a Prince or a Model. A simple Baker... but he loved her, and that had to mean something. As the tart baked, Trey listed to the song once more. Her voice was truly angelic... it reminded him of the Singing Flowers of the Queendom Court. But the closer he listened, the more his heart swelled. By the end of the end of the song, he decided to at least go check on her... and tell her his feelings.

Now Trey found himself outside her door, and his heart was pounding again, only this time it was with anticipation.

He took a deep breath and let his heart speak for once, "I don't know if you feel the same, but I need to confess... you've Bewitched me too..."

After a few moments, Trey felt his heart deflate. He kneeled down to leave the tart at the door, but it opened before he could place it. He looked up and saw Yuu in all her glory. Despite being in her pajamas and exhausted in more ways than one... she was beautiful.

He stood up and tried to speak, but he didn't know what to say.

She looked up at him and asked, "Do you mean it?"

Trey nodded and smiled, "I do... I've had feelings for you for a while now. I just didn't say anything since I'm well... just a Baker." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the tart he made, "I thought I'd be okay with just being your friend, but after hearing your song... well I guess you can tell."

Trey stared at the tart, too scared to look into her eyes. Then he felt a hand on his cheek and dared to look. Her eyes sparkled, and she was smiling.

"You're more than a Baker... your sweet, have the paitents of a saint, are an incredible scientist and mage... your Trey." She stroked his cheek with her thumb as she spoke, "and I can't get you out of my head... but I was too scared to tell you yet," now she looked down and he could see the worry steep into her brow, "but I guess everyone knows now..."

He stepped inside, put the tart on the dresser, then pulled Yuu into a hug. "I'm sorry... but for the record, you have a beautiful voice."

Yuu buried her head in his chest and he stroked her hair. "...thanks..." she muttered into his chest and he could feel her smiled.

"And just a heads up, Cater is going to try and recruit you for the Pop Music Club," He swayed as they talked.

"Yeah, he has been texting me all day," she turned her head so she was listening to his heart. "I can't, though... anytime I try to sing in front of people... I freeze and feel like I'm about to vomit."

Trey rubbed her back and said, "I'll tell him if you want, I'm sure he'll understand. The real problem will be getting Kalim to back off."

Yuu chuckled and shook her head, "I have no clue where to start... he's so... Kalim."

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll understand," Trey closed his eyes and basket in her warmth. They swayed to non-music and enjoyed the moment.

Eventually, Yuu's stomach rumbled, and she buried her head in his chest again. Trey leaned back and used one of his hands to lift her chin up to look at him, "Im guessing you didn't eat dinner yet?"

Yuu shook her head and said, "No... actually, i dont remember when I ate last.."

"Well, let's go down to the kitchen and fix that..." He didn't move from the position, and neither did she. He looked into her lips and decided to do one more thing He has wanted to do for a long, long time.

He leaned in and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss but held so much unspoken emotion. When they parted, they both smiled.

He may be just a Baker, but he was the luckiest baker in the world, for he had the most beautiful flower in the world right in his arms.

Trey understood Yuu's insecurities, so he never pushed her to sing and was content looking at the notebook when she was comfortable. But one day, while Trey and Yuu were waiting for cookies to finish baking, Yuu started to sing one of her songs to her beloved Baker - "Sweet Nothing"

Cater knew Yuu was special from the moment he met her, but he never expected THAT. When Cater saw Grim post a video of Yuu SINGING... he the flood gates opened. He knew she was super shy and knew from the way the video was filmed, that this was done without her knowing. He texted Yuu to try and check in on her, but the betting comments started immediately. That night and the next day, he spent trying to trim the comments and keep them positive. He knew the pressures of social media far too well and wanted to keep her away from it if he could. While he played media knight, he saw many comments about him and Yuu. Some of the second years and heartstyble students were defending the song being about him, and some of them had decent arguments, but others simply pointed out his gaping flaws...

These comments haunted him all during class and into the club meetings. His facade faltered quiet a bit that day and he didn't notice till Lilia approached him and poked his forehead. Both of his clubmates knew about Cater's crush, it was easy to see once you knew what to look for. The fact that KALIM noticed these tells was very telling. What really broke the ice was when Kalim let it slip that he knew Yuu had a crush on Cater.

"... what if she rejects me and it makes everything weird? I can't risk that." Cater Repeated.

"But she WONT!" Kalim emphasized.

"How do you know that?" Cater bit back, his agitation getting the best of him, "This could break everything, I-"

"BECAUSE SHE TOLD ME CATER!!!" Kalim exclaimed then covered his mouth. "Sevens I said too much." He looked like a puppy that knew it did something wrong... which ment he was telling the truth.

"S-she what?" Cater said softly.

Kalim slouched his shoulders and said, "No point in hiding it... Yuu has a crush on you. She told me and Jamil on accident when I took her shopping two weeks ago and made us promise not to tell!"

Upon that admission, Cater ran to Ramshackle, leaving Kalim to Lilia, who made popcorn and thanked the boy for some quality entertainment.

It started to rain as he ran to Ramshackle. His heart pounding and resolve strong. If she liked him back then, what was he waiting for? She was the one person who looked behind the masked and accepted him! When he has a bad day, she would bring him a sandwich cut in cute shapes. Make him put his phone down and enjoy a view. Reminded him that he didn't have to be Cay-Cay all the time, but Cater.

By the time he made it to Yuu's door, he was soaked. He knocked on the door and asked Yuu if she was alright. When she didn't answer, he hesitated for a moment but decided to be brave for once and not shrivel back to his phone.

"Yuu, I need you to know... I don't know if you meant this but... I'm bewitched by you too."

When Yuu opened the door, instead of the Cay-Cay on magicam who sheilded his heart behind a diamond smile, she saw Cater, a scared boy who let down his guard and placed his heart on his sleeve.

Cold water dripped down his face and he was very disheveled. But he looked at her with such warmth. When she saw him, her eyes widened when she saw him.

"Cater! You're soaked!" Yuu fretted over him, taking his hand and pulling him inside. "Take your blazer off. You'll catch a cold!" She pulled him in front of the fireplace and had him sit on the rug. She lit the fire with a match and grabbed a few towels. Cater took his blazer off and watched as she wrapped a towel around his shoulders. He smiled at her as she took a smaller towel and dried his hair. He came to help her and her she was caring for him. She whipped the diamond off his cheek and he took the opportunity to place his hand over hers. She looked into his eyes and gently stroked his cheek.

"Do you mean it?" She asked, her voice trembling and earnest. "You... you feel the same?"

Cater nodded and gave her a soft, genuine smile, "Yeah, for a while now, actually." He leaned into her touch, "But I was scared you didn't feel the same."

Yuu chuckled a bit and said, "Same here... I didn't want to lose you by making things weird."

"Well, you haven't... if anything, this is feels more like a dream come true than reality." He chuckled and reached out to stroke her hair.

"What if it is?" Yuu asked tentatively.

She looked ethereal, the fire illuminating her silhouette. He decided to do one more brave thing today. She was worth it. "Well, there is one way to find out."

Cater leaned in tenitivly to Yuu, his heart pounding in his ears, and he felt like the White Rabbit, fearing what was to come. Before him was the most beautiful flower, and this was his chance to be with her. The Card Soldier pressed his lips to the White Rose's, giving her a delicate kiss that ensured them both this wasn't a dream. This was real. He loved her, and she loved him. And that is all they needed.

When they separated, Yuu smiled. Cater pulled her into his lap and held her close. As the rain tapped on the windows outside, two lovers embraced by the fireside.

Cater understood stagefright and never pressured Yuu to sing, nor did he ever post anything about their relationship or her on his account without her permission. But he did invite her to every pop music club meeting and event. He was her protector from the nosy Magicam monsters who tried to pressure her or pry into her life. He was her personal Card Soldier. Weeks later, after one of these meetings, Cater and Yuu stayed behind to clean up since Lilia and Kalim had to leave early. As they cleaned up, Yuu picked up a gautair and started to strum mindlessly. Then she began to sing for her Diamond Knight - "Lucky for Me"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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stillmonsterz · 1 month

Text

my summer girl

pairing: jay x reader

genre: smut, fluff

summary: it's 1975, jay is about to enter his last year of university, and he's still a virgin. however, he plans to change that this summer when he goes abroad to france. the only problem is finding someone good enough to be his first.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon

word count: 7.2k

It was the summer of 1975, and Jay was going to lose his virginity. He knew that he was a late-bloomer; 21 years old, three years of university under his belt, and he hadn’t so much as seen a woman in her undergarments. But contrary to the teasing remarks of his friends, it was his decision. Jay wanted it to be a perfect experience, something out of the fanciful, romantic novels he regularly read in his spare time, or like a movie. He wanted his first time to be complete with red roses on white sheets, aromatic oils dripping from their bodies, and swelling music that led to a sensuous, thrilling crescendo. Jay occupied the time not spent on work, school, and his various hobbies with these grandiose fantasies. While his friends cavorted with the women from their established university, Jay bided his time.

Then he got the best news of his life. As he packed away his clothes for summer vacation, one of his classmates who worked in the school office knocked on his door.

“Jay,” she said, “your mother called.”

Jay brightened; he liked to hear from his parents, and he was fully prepared to brag about both his grades and his prowess on the rugby field. The words that came out of his mother’s mouth, however, dashed away all thoughts of grandstanding.

“Honey,” his mother said as he clutched the phone. “We’re coming to get you shortly.”

“Today? I already booked a flight to visit you guys in a few days,” he replied. “I was just packing up.”

“Well, we’ve had a slight change of plans. We’ve decided to fly to France for a month this summer!”

Jay nearly dropped the phone, but he tried to feign nonchalance. “France? That’ll be a great opportunity to practice my French with the locals…”

His mother cooed, “Oh, aren’t you so practical? We’ll be staying at this gorgeous chateau in a town called Gordes, I’m sure you’ll love it…”

She kept speaking, but Jay was too busy imagining his summer. He wouldn’t just lose his virginity in France, he would be able to have madcap adventures with a gorgeous woman. A wild summer fling charged with youthful exuberance and set in such a romantic country…it was beyond his expectations.

When he got off of the phone, Jay was practically vibrating with excitement. He rushed to his friends’ dorm room- Heeseung and Jake’s room. His own roommate, Sunghoon, was nowhere to be seen. Probably trying to convince his on-again off-again girlfriend that they should take a break so he could “sort himself out.”

Jay burst inside of the room. “Guys,” he said, opening the door with gusto, “I have some excellent news.”

Heeseung and Jake had been sitting cross-legged on the floor and playing a game of Crazy Eights, a game that they didn’t halt despite Jay’s intrusion. “Are you finally going to get laid?” Jake asked blithely, setting down a five of spades.

“Yes, actually,” Jay said, leaning against the doorframe.

Heeseung and Jake looked at each other, then at Jay.

“Really?” Heeseung asked suspiciously, while Jake asked, “You’re not going to visit a whorehouse, are you?”

“Yes,” Jay said, pointing at Heeseung. He shifted his finger over to Jake. “And no to that.”

Heeseung chanced a smile. “You’re seriously going to do it?”

“Yes,” Jay said, crossing his arms. “My family and I are going to France for the holidays. I’m going to meet a beautiful woman, and she will be my summer girl.”

Heeseung rested his hands on his jeans, a smirk on his face. “Your what?”

“My summer girl,” Jay explained, gesticulating madly. The scenes played out in front of his very eyes like a Technicolour romance. “We’ll meet at the chateau, we’ll play tennis together, hold hands, and then I’ll fuck the everliving daylights out of her every single day. Then- stop laughing at me- then I’ll leave her behind, because she’s my summer girl.”

Jay heard footsteps behind him- it was Sunghoon, trotting down towards the room with an annoyed expression on his face. “Hey guys,” he said, walking past Jay and sitting on Heeseung’s bed.

Jake turned to Sunghoon, who was swigging on a bottle of coke. “Sunghoon,” Jake said with feigned innocence, “our friend Jay here is going to find a ‘summer girl’ and ‘fuck the everliving daylights out of her.” Sunghoon choked on his soda as he doubled over in laughter. Jay clenched his hands into fists as his friends teased him. That’s fine, Jay thought, It is not by muscle, speed, or physical dexterity that great things are achieved, but by reflection, force of character, and judgment. And he had force of character in spades. While they dabbled with whores and sluts, he would find a quality, stunning woman to be his summer girl.

–

As it turns out, not only were there no quality, stunning women milling about the chateau, there weren’t even any whores and sluts. Jay had walked all around the premises of the area in abject horror. The chateau stood by itself, nestled into a forested area with no neighbors for miles. Jay could. The nearest town was a 40 minute drive away, and not only was Jay an unconfident driver, but the town was so small he figured that any single woman was probably single for a reason. He tried to keep up his spirits so that his parents wouldn’t realize that he was disappointed- or worse, attempt to figure out why he was so disappointed. As he trudged through the opulent, spacious chateau, however, he felt a heaviness in his heart and a stiffness in his cock. There was a codgy butler milling around, a cook in the kitchen, and apparently there was a maid. Presumably, they were all related.

Jay slumped onto his bed and sighed. His room was rustic, with dark-stained floors, white-washed walls, and hand-carved wooden furniture. There was a small bookshelf in his room replete with both French and English books, so at least he would come away this summer with a decent grasp of French grammar. Jay groaned again, closing his eyes. He wished that the soft light filtering through the gauzy curtains beside his bed would turn to raucous thunder and gloomy skies, or at the very least a drizzle of rain to complement his mood.

He heard a knock on the door and sighed. “Who is it?”

“Ah, housekeeping,” the voice said quietly. Jay’s ears perked up; that voice sounded decidedly feminine. Then he came back to reality; maids were generally married women who would have little interest in sleeping with the son of the master of the home. When Jay didn’t respond, the woman continued, saying, “Mrs. Park asked to have some tea delivered to your door, in case the flight unsettled your stomach.”

He wished that it was the flight causing him this internal anguish. “Please,” he said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms behind his head, “bring it in.”

The door opened quietly, and Jay could hear the rattle of the tea tray as it was carried into the room and set on his nightstand. His nose picked up on something, a floral fragrance that wafted in a pleasant cloud.

He opened his eyes, and then he saw you.

You were wearing a dark blue maid uniform with a stained white apron, but you kept yourself well. You were groomed well, your nails were clipped short and polished, and your face was bright and sweet. And that perfume…Jay wondered how much you had had to save up to purchase it, or if it had been a gift. Maybe a boyfriend had gifted it to you.

“Did you need something else?” Your voice was so kind, and you looked at him so expectantly.

“No,” Jay whispered softly, “nothing at all.”

You nodded and pointed to a small piece of cloth hanging out of the wall above his desk. In his despondent mood, Jay hadn’t noticed it. “If you need me, you can pull that and it’ll alert me. It’s a bit old-fashioned, but this is an older house…”

Jay smiled. “Any time?”

“When you need something, sir,” you replied, smoothing your apron down.

Jay cleared his throat. “Of course.” He poured himself a cup of tea, dropping two lumps of sugar inside and mixing it languidly. As he sipped his tea, he noticed that you were still lingering nearby. His smirk was hidden by his teacup as he looked you up and down. You must want him already. “Ah…you’re still here, Miss…?”

You told him your name, then said, “I have to be dismissed.”

Jay’s face reddened. “Right. Yes, right, of course. You’re dismissed.” You bid him goodbye and left him with the tea tray. As Jay sipped his tea, his feet crossed at the ankle, his vision for the summer shifted. Instead of wild encounters in haylofts and dirty, wet hot sex in valleys and behind churches, Jay now envisioned himself ravaging you in that little maid outfit of yours. Yes, he thought as his hand slowly crept to his crotch, this was perfect.

He had found his summer girl.

–

Jay was able to quickly ascertain the problem with his plan- you were his maid. And you had to work. While he lounged outside, sunbathing shirtless, you were inside polishing the silver. He would eat lavish dinners, and you were the one who set the table, brought the food, and stood by on hand and foot. While he enjoyed being able to ogle you at his leisure, he started to feel like a brat. What could he do to prove to you that he wasn’t just a spoiled child?

When he would stew over this, he would feel indignant. Why did he care about what the wait staff thought of him? He was Jay Park, and you should be so glad that he wasn’t ordering you to hand-wash his boxers. In fact, what was stopping him from just ravishing you the second you walked inside of his room? He was a rugby player, and rich, and he could get away with it. Just as quickly as those thoughts would enter his head, however, they would be cast out. For starters, it wouldn’t be right. Moreover, it wouldn’t have been earned. He had spent years building up to the loss of his virginity, and he didn’t want it to be with a woman struggling to get away from him. He wanted to seduce her, pliant in his arms as he made passionate love to her on his bed, or on a beach, or maybe on the balcony, or by a river…

Generally, these mental deliberations always ended with him squirting lotion onto his hands and soothing his angry cock the best way he knew how. They were always fuelled by the image of you puttering around the chateau.

You had this way about you that Jay found intoxicating. He would always pretend to read, but he would take peeks at you as you cleaned up. Something about your movements, your manner of speech were all so sensual. The care with which you take care of the house, the knitting of your eyebrows as you scrubbed at a particular spot, the precision you utilized when tidying his room, it all appealed to his more epicurean sensibilities. And, of course, that scent…whenever you left the room, he would stand where you had been and he would deeply inhale its heady aroma.

After a week of this, Jay had come up with a paltry idea. He tugged on the piece of cloth, and within three minutes you arrived at the door. As usual, your expression was bright. “Hello, sir,” you said politely.

“Hi,” he said with a tenderness that would have earned him Jake’s derision. “I would like you to bring me some Earl Grey tea. And bring two teacups.”

You gave him a quizzical look, but you said, “Yes, sir,” and bustled out of the room anyway.

When you left, Jay picked up his small pocket mirror and checked his hair. He unbuttoned one of his buttons on his loose shirt, fluffed out the collar, and parted the curtains so that the light would settle on his face better. He laid on his bed with a practiced relaxation, waiting for you to return.

You came back with a tea try equipped with two cups. Setting it on the nightstand, you smiled. “Enjoy, sir…”

“No, no, you’ll join me,” Jay replied. The way your eyes widened was so cute, Jay just wanted to kiss you.

“Oh…I don’t know if I can do that, I’ve got to polish the silver…”

“I’ll come down and vouch for you,” Jay said, holding one of the cups to her. “Please? I haven’t been able to talk to anyone near my age in a week. I’m going mad.”

You laughed and warily accepted the cup, which you then set down to pour his own tea.

Jay rested a hand on yours and shook his head. “Please, allow me. Come on, sit on the bed.”

You did as he said, leaving a fair bit of space between the two of you. He carefully poured the tea for both of you, willing his hand to stay steady. “How do you take your tea?”

“Just like this,” you said.

“Really? No sugars, no milk, no cream?”

You shook your head, and Jay sighed. “Have you ever tried it with sugar?”

Once again, you shook your head, sipping your tea. “No point in wasting sugar like that.”

Jay gently took your cup and dropped a lump of sugar into your tea, mixing it. “Try it like this.”

You wrapped both of your hands around the cup and took a slow sip. He loved the way you drank. “It’s good like this,” you said. “Very good.”

“Isn’t it?” Jay looked at you closely, and he knew that the warmth bursting inside of his chest wasn’t good for his plan. You were his summer girl, and affection would only ruin that. Jay drank his tea, trying not to stare at you. He decided that engaging you in a conversation might help; reminding himself of the class difference between you two would stave off the feelings blossoming within him. “So…what do you like to do?”

“What do I like to do?” You drummed your fingers on the cup as you thought. “Well…I like to go for walks. The area is simply gorgeous, so I go for walks when I’m not working. I like to sketch, too.”

“You sketch?” Jay swallowed his tea in one painful gulp. “What do you like to draw?”

“Oh…everything, I guess. The things I see. I like to draw flowers, trees. Sometimes people.”

“Would you draw me?” Jay blurted out, setting his tea cup on the tray.

“I couldn’t do that,” you said with a slight laugh. “Imagine how embarrassed I would feel if I made you look bad.”

“I’m sure you couldn’t do that,” he said, leaning against the headboard. “You’re so careful with everything you do. I bet your drawings are lovely.”

“You’re just flattering me, sir.”

“No, no, not at all,” Jay said with a laugh.

“Or you’re trying to get a free portrait out of me.”

Jay shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can. Someone like you could afford to fly Elisabeth Chaplin here and have her paint a portrait of you,” you retorted. Then you stiffened; Jay figured that you weren’t used to speaking so casually.

He kept his voice light. “What are you saying then, that I should pay you?”

“How much would you pay for a portrait I did of you?”

“For you-,” he began, but just then, you heard a bell chime in a different room. The veneer of nicety came over you, and you quietly put your tea cup on the tray and lifted it.

“Thank you for the tea-time, sir,” you said politely. “Have a lovely day.”

“Yeah,” Jay said, dejected. “You too.”

–

After that, he pulled on the cloth and asked for tea three more times. Three more times he had shared conversations of varying length with you, and something dreadful had happened to Jay. Instead of waves of raw, primal lust overtaking him and pushing him to take you on the sheets, Jay felt warm when he spoke to you.

You told him about your ambitions, about how you had become a maid, your favourite records, your favourite books, how you would walk down the dusty road winding into town and meet your friend halfway. Then you would watch movies with her. You liked movies that were thrilling, a contrast to your own life. Every time you laughed, your eyes shifted, every time your fingers wrapped around the small teaspoon as you swirled a lump of sugar into your tea, Jay felt like the sun was rising within him.

He watched you as you cleaned up. When you would go outside to tidy up the tennis courts after your parents would play a game, he would watch you, sometimes with one hand shoved inside of his pants.

Jay knew that his fantasy of using you as nothing more than a warm body and bragging rights was fading away quickly. He had to refocus his efforts…but how? As he paced around his room one night, he got an idea. A damned good one, if you asked him.

He knew that you got off work at 6 pm, so at 5:59 pm he tugged on the cloth. The scene was set; his bedsheets had been rumpled to mimic a post-coital aftermath, his shirt was sensually unbuttoned, and he had dabbed cologne behind his ears and on his wrists. The record player in the corner was playing a crooning Serge Gainsbourg song. The piece-de-resistance was the bottle of pinot noir that Jay had filched from his parents’ room while they were taking a stroll in the forest, along with two fine-stemmed wine-glasses.

As he heard your footsteps approaching his room, he adjusted his position so that he was lying on his back, one hand draped over his stomach, the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

“Mr. Park?” you asked softly, rapping on his door.“Come in,” Jay said in a low, husky voice.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘Come in,’” Jay said normally. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and Jay smirked at you. You had no clue what he had prepared for you. As usual, you were wearing your maid outfit, and your hands were clasped in front of your apron. Even from here, he could smell your sweet, floral scent; it was almost an aphrodisiac to Jay.

“Come sit.”

You sat at the end of the bed so that his feet were pointed towards you. He shifted his position so that he was sitting up slightly. He leaned over to his nightstand and grabbed the bottle of wine.

“Do you like wine?” Jay asked, uncorking the bottle.

You nodded. “I do. I don’t drink it often, though.”

Jay poured you a glass of wine, making sure not to spill a drop. “This is a nice Domaine de Montille Les Pezerolles, from Pommard.”

“Oh, really?” You swirled the wine around in the glass, and he was pleased to see that you held the wineglass’ stem at the bottom. “It sounds good.”

“Yes,” he said, pouring himself a glass. He took a slow sniff of the wine before taking a sip. “This is from 1969, so it hasn’t completely thinned. In fact, it has a full body- you smell that?”

Before you could speak, Jay continued. “It was a dry summer when they harvested these grapes in Pommard in a premier cru- do you know what a premier cru is? It’s a vineyard where high-quality grapes are harvested. Of course, these aren’t the creme de la creme. The best grapes are harvested in what are called grand crus. Do you know Romanee-Conti?”

You paused, then said, “Ah…that’s a very expensive wine, yes?”

“It’s a type of wine,” Jay said, taking another sip of his wine. “I take it you’ve never had any?”

“Well…no.”

Jay pointed his pinky at you while he held onto his wineglass. “I’ll have to get you some someday. I’ve had a glass once, I believe it was a 1956 La Tache, and you can simply taste the caliber of the grapes. The tannins weren’t strong, more on the silkier side…”

You tilted your head. “What are tannins?”

Jay’s face brightened.Somehow, without knowing it, Jay had spent two hours explaining what tannins were, how wine was harvested, the ideal temperature to enjoy wine, and how he would pair the wine they were currently drinking with a meal. After 8 o’clock had approached, you had quietly excused yourself, bidding him goodnight. Jay had waved goodbye gaily, until he looked down at his empty wine glass and realized belatedly that he had squandered his opportunity to fuck you.

Jay sighed and poured himself another glass of wine, sitting on his bed and closing his eyes. He was running out of ideas, and the third week of vacation was steadily approaching. If he went back to school without knowing what you felt like, what you tasted like, Jay thought he might die.

His dreams that night centered around you lying on his bed, naked save for a black pair of pantyhose. Jay was pouring that wine all over your body and sucking it off of your breasts, licking the sweetness from your stomach like a madman. He poured wine into your mouth, and you kissed him back so that he could drink from you. When Jay woke up, the taste of pinot noir was heavy on his tongue.

–

The next day, after breakfast, Jay knocked on the door of his parents’ room in the chateau. His father opened the door, smiling at him.

“Hey, kid,” Mr. Park said, affectionately ruffling his hair. His father was wearing the same set of pajamas that Jay wore

“Dad,” Jay said quietly, “I need to speak with you.”

His father’s eyes narrowed in confusion; Jay’s expression was earnest and his tone was pleading. “Sure.”

Once they were safely inside of Jay’s room, Jay sat on his bed. His father joined him.

“Dad…” Jay hesitated, unsure of how to word his question. Finally, he said it as plainly as he could: “How did you win Mom over? I mean…how did you approach her?”

Mr. Park’s eyes twinkled. “Has someone caught your eye?”

Jay tried to ward off his father, who was nudging him in the ribs with his elbows. “Not-not quite, Dad. Just…for the future, you know? For the future.”

Mr. Park laughed. “Sure, son.” He looked up at the ceiling as he thought, and Jay looked directly at his father. “Well, it wasn’t easy. I had to chase your mother. She was popular, beautiful, and smart, so it wasn’t an easy task. But she said that what she enjoyed was when I would send her flowers.”

“Flowers?”

His father shrugged. “She said it was such a classic gesture, it made her feel like I was more of a traditional man. Not someone who would just toy with her emotions then cast her aside like so much filth.”

“Flowers,” Jay repeated, his eyes darting around. Of course. Flowers.

“I was also honest about my intentions,” Mr. Park continued. “I knew that she was desirable, so I didn’t want to waste time. I told her how I felt and showed her my cards. That might not work for every woman, but your mother and I thought- think- similarly. And that’s what you want to find, Jay. Not someone who mirrors you, but someone who thinks just similarly enough to you that you’ll hardly argue, and differently enough that your arguments will be interesting.”

Jay smiled at his father’s joke, but he quickly became lost in thought. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ve got a lot to consider.”

Mr. Park ruffled his son’s hair again. “Glad I could help, sport. I hope things go well with this girl.”

Jay smiled at his father affectionately. “Yeah, me t-,” Jay’s face blanched. “I mean, there is no girl.”

His father laughed as he left the room, and Jay sighed. At least now a plan was forming, something concrete.

–

Jay spent his entire afternoon wandering through the forest bordering the chateau searching for flowers. He brought his thick canvas bag with him, as well as a pair of shears. Every time he saw a gorgeous flower, he snipped it carefully and placed it into the bag. Violets, white flax, buttercups, sheaths of elderberry, red and purple poppies. Jay had to work fast; he wouldn’t forgive himself if the flowers even slightly wilted before you could enjoy them. As the sun set, Jay’s fingers were caked in dirt, sweat coated his brow, but his bag was filled with various, fragrant flowers. To his delight, he realized that their scent was similar to yours, and he walked towards the grounds of the chateau with his nose buried in a handful of flowers.

You lived in the servants’ quarters, which was a smaller house located on the edge of the premises. It was past six o’clock, so you would surely be there now, washing up. Maybe you had already changed into something comfortable. Jay darted inside of his bathroom, cleaning all of the dirt off of his nails and changing into a loose shirt and linen pants. He slicked his hair back and applied cologne. Using a light blue ribbon from a package of artisanal biscuits, he tied the flowers together into a rough bouquet. Jay arranged the flowers carefully, placing the violets at the front and tucking the elderberry flowers as accents.

Jay swallowed thickly and walked over to the servants’ quarters. He knocked on the door, and as he waited for someone to come to the door he reminded himself that he was Jay Park, the son of James Park, someone to be revered, someone to be respected.

To his delight, you answered the door. You were wearing a long nightgown, and your smile was so soft and dreamy Jay could have melted.

“Hello, sir,” you said, leaning your head against the doorframe. “To what do I owe this honour?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. Then he thrusted the flowers towards you. “Here. For you.”

You beamed at him, and Jay knew he would have spent a month traversing that forest if it would make you smile like that again. “Thank you.” You received the bouquet, touching the flowers delicately. You closed your eyes and took in their scent.

Jay lingered outside of your door. He felt like he was being split into pieces. He wanted to caress your hair and kiss your cheek; he wanted to barge into your house, toss you on your bed, and take what he wanted from you; he wanted to run away until he was a better man, a stronger man; he wanted to be one of the flowers you were stroking, the perfume you inhaled.

You looked up at him. “The butler and the cook won’t be back until 8,” you said quietly. “They’re still at the chateau.”

Jay’s breath caught inside of his throat. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. So if you liked, we could go inside and talk?”

Jay’s eyes glowed. “Yes, yes, of course.”

You led him inside of the small home; there was one large room that constituted the kitchen, living room, and dining room, a bathroom, and three bedrooms that were hardly more than a cot and a dresser. Yours had drawings stuck on the wall, a threadbare blanket covering the bed, and a dresser that was covered in your makeup, hairbrush, and other toiletries. Jay sat on your bed and frowned as he looked around his room.

“What is it?” you asked, setting the bouquet on the dresser. “Not to your liking?”

“That’s not it,” Jay said, his eyes fixed on your drawings. “It’s just that you deserve something better.”

You smiled at him. “Do I? Why?”

“Why? What do you mean, why? You’re…you’re too good for this,” Jay said, gesturing wildly.

“So where should I be?”

So many words sprung to his mind that they clogged in his throat. You should be in my bed, in my college, in that chateau, on a beach being ravaged next to the ocean, lying in a flower field, anything except being a maid. Instead, Jay looked down at his hands.

“I’ll just get a vase for this,” you said, gesturing at the bouquet. Jay nodded, and as you left he gripped his thighs and sighed. He could hear his heartbeat thumping madly, and the fact that he was in your room wasn’t making things any better. Your scent was everywhere, lingered on everything, and it set his heart ablaze.

With a furtive glance at the door, he leaned down to your pillow and inhaled deeply. Jay moaned slightly; he wished that you would stay away for a little longer, so that he could pleasure himself in a cocoon of your fragrance. He’d leave traces of himself everywhere, in your clothes, in that maid outfit, in your underwear. Jay was considering pawing around in your drawers to find your panties when you came back with a chipped vase. You set it on your dresser and tucked the flowers inside of it carefully, not disrupting the arrangement that Jay had made. For some reason, the way that your fingers deftly placed the flowers in the vase made him shiver from arousal.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. Three weeks now, three weeks of smelling you and seeing you and learning about you without so much as a touch. Once you stepped away from the glass vase, Jay came up behind you and grabbed your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. You seemed more curious than anything else, your arms splayed at your sides.

“I want you,” Jay whispered. “I want you so...ardently, it hurts.” With trembling fingers, he shoved your nightgown all the way up to your waist. Now, he could glimpse your panties- white, of course you wore white panties. It was like you had been designed to ruin his summer.

Jay didn’t bother taking his pants off all the way, instead only tugging them along with his underwear down slightly. His cock was hot and already leaking precum as he looked down at you, at your gorgeous pussy that was covered in a fine mat of downy hair. You stared up at him, seemingly daring him to make his next move.

Jay spit onto his hand and coated his cock in a mixture of saliva and precum. His entire body screamed for him to enter you, ruin you, to fulfill millenia of biological hardwiring. Jay trembled in anticipation as he finally pushed himself inside of you. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. You were so warm, inviting, and silky, like you had been made for him. The small gasp you had made as he had entered you was just perfect.

He thrusted inside of you, overwhelmed by the sensation of your velvety pussy. After another stroke, he realized that his orgasm was already racing through him.

“No, no,” Jay whispered, pulling out of you, but the friction of your pussy as he slid out of you caused him to spasm. Cum spurted out of him in humiliating globules, landing on your stomach and nightgown.

Jay hovered over you, his eyes widened with shock. “No. No, no, no. That-that was nothing. That only lasted for, what…”

“A minute,” you replied, your face impassive.

“A minute,” Jay repeated in horror. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” Jay squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. Now everything was ruined. He had come in a pathetically short amount of time. You probably didn’t feel a thing.

Then he felt warm hands stroke his cheek, and his eyes opened. A small smile had graced your lips, and despite his despair he managed a smile too.

“Was that your first time?” you asked quietly, tracing his lips with your thumb.

Jay hesitated, but there was no point in lying. “Yeah,” he whispered, “it was. You were.”

You nodded sympathetically. “It’s okay,” you said.

“It…is?” Jay stared at you in awe.

Then, to his delight, you brought his head down and kissed him softly. It wasn’t rough, not the way his friends had described it- teeth clashing, tongues choking each other, hands wildly groping. This kiss was so gentle, and Jay reciprocated, his hands cupping your face. Your scent tickled his nostrils, filled his mind with a haze.

Soon, you were licking his bottom lip, so Jay parted his lips. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, and he touched it with his, once, twice. He ran his tongue over your teeth, probed into your mouth, sucked on your tongue. He wanted to memorize every inch of you.

Jay felt one of your hands slip under his shirt, and you ran your hands over his abs. He was proud of the hardened muscle he had worked so hard to cultivate, and he could feel his pride slowly returning. Emboldened, he kissed you even more deeply, and he began to feel your breasts over your nightgown. You weren’t wearing a bra, and he could only imagine how soft they must feel properly in his hands.

“Take it off,” you whispered against his lips. Jay didn’t need to be told twice. He undressed you slowly this time, helping you push the nightgown over your head.

Jay groaned under his breath as his eyes flickered over your body. It was amazing. You were like Aphrodite, the Venus of Willendorf, a being designed to be admired. How could he have ever thought of thrusting into you like you were his right hand? “Turn the light on,” he said quietly.

“Yes, sir,” you said, flicking your standing lamp on. Your body was bathed in the soft, rosy glow, painting you in colours that rivaled the work of the pre-Raphaelites.

“Don’t call me sir,” he said pleadingly. “Call me Jay, please.” With that, he dipped his head down and kissed your neck softly. You whimpered, and the sound was like the song of an angel. He kissed you all the way down to the space between your breasts. One hand gently fondled one breast, and the other hand held your waist as he kissed the other breast.

“Lick my nipples,” you whispered. “I like that.”

Jay did as you asked, taking one nipple in his mouth and licking it. The way it hardened was fascinating to him, and he lavished both of your nipples with attention. His hands stroked your waist, up and down, and he could feel you tremble. Jay trailed wet kisses down your stomach, sticking his tongue into your navel to make you laugh. He splayed your arms out on the bed and kissed and licked them. When he got to your hand, he kissed your palm and your fingertips. Jay lifted your legs up and kissed them from your inner thigh to the backs of your calves to your ankles, all the way to your toes.

You made these darling little sighs as he kissed you and touched you. “This feels great, Jay,” you sighed out. On occasion, you would tell him to pay special attention to a certain part of yourself; your inner thighs, Jay found, were a sensitive spot. He would frequently return there on his journey around your body and bite and suck at the soft flesh there.

As Jay gripped your thighs, kissing them, you pulled at his hair so that his face was tugged upwards.

“I want to teach you something else,” you said, looking him in his eyes.

“What?” Jay whispered.

As a response, you parted your legs slightly. Jay could see pools of arousal leaking out of your pussy, and his cock stirred. You took your fingers and touched a small, pearly nub of flesh.

“Do you know what this is?”

Jay had a rough idea, based on the conversations he had had with his friends. “Your clitoris?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yes,” you said, your fingers still threaded through his hair. “I want you to lick it.”

“Lick it?”

“It’ll make me feel good,” you whispered, and you gently pushed his head down between your legs. After one tentative lick, Jay was hooked. You tasted amazing, not quite sweet, not salty, but something else. Something primal and delicious. He laved your clit with his tongue, spreading your legs apart even further.

For the first time, you moaned, a sound that made its way all the way to Jay’s gut. He kept going, lapping at that little pearl with feverish abandon. Jay pulled away after a while, worried that he was going too fast, being too rough again. “Is this okay?” he asked.

Your voice was tense and high as you said, “Yes, you’re doing amazing, Jay. It feels amazing. Keep going, keep going.”

That encouragement was all Jay needed. One hand firmly split your legs apart, and the other reached up and toyed with your nipples again. He felt you writhe and shiver as he swallowed your arousal, making circles with his tongue around your clit.

“Jay, Jay, I’m going to, I’m going to…” A series of high-pitched moans passed through your lips and your back arched off of the bed. Jay continued licking your clit until you weakly pushed his head away. Jay stared in awe at your cunt opening and closing on its own, and he inserted a finger inside of you to feel the contractions for himself. He shivered as he imagined his cock in here, but he decided to wait until you weren’t so exhausted.

Jay dragged himself up the bed so that he was lying beside you, and he affectionately rubbed your stomach. Your face was wet with sweat, lips parted, and your eyes were lidded. Still, that same smile was plastered on your face, and Jay wiped your face with his thumb.

“How was that?” he asked, just to hear you praise him.

“It was great,” you said weakly. “It was…wow. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?”

“Top of my classes,” Jay said with a wide grin. You playfully pushed him, and he kissed your cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t…you know… last.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. It was your first time. No one has a very good first time.”

“Did you?”

“That’s a story for another day,” you said with an eye roll.

Jay traced your stomach with his hand again, his eyes flickering over you. After a while, he whispered, “Teach me.”

You looked at him. “Teach you…?”

“How to please you. I want you to enjoy it, too. Please?”

You glanced at him, and your eyes were so soft Jay got the sudden urge to cry. “Okay. Come on, sit up.”

Jay sat so that his legs were spread, entrapping you between them. You sat up as well, leaning against the headboard.

“Your pants…”

“Oh, right.” Jay scrambled to take them off, and his boxers too. His cock flopped out, and he was dismayed to see that it wasn’t completely hard. He glanced at you to gauge your reaction, but your gaze was fixated on his dick.

“How have you managed to stay a virgin with that?” Your hand rested on his thigh, rubbing up and down.

Jay’s heart swelled with pride. “Oh, well, I’m picky, I suppose. I only like the best of the best.”

You smiled softly, catching the compliment, and then your head bobbed down to his cock. His eyes drank in the sight of your wet little tongue swirling around the tip, your hands massaging his balls. Jay moaned loudly, his arms falling back to hold himself upright. “Oh, will you jack me off, too? Please.”

You obliged him, letting some of your spit trickle down his shaft before massaging it loosely. Jay leaned his head back and moaned loudly. He was so glad you two were in the little servants’ quarters and not the chateau, where the sounds would have echoed. The sloppy noises of your mouth wrapped around his tip and your hands fondling his cock, and his own moans.

Soon, you were pulling away, and Jay was initially disappointed by the lack of his contact. You wiped your mouth and smiled at him, and his annoyances were forgotten. You shifted backwards so that you were sitting against the headboard again.

“Now,” you whispered, “come here.”

Jay crawled over to you, sitting upright as well. He pulled your legs over his, so that you were straddling him. As he waited for you to keep speaking, he caressed your smooth legs.

“This time, be slow. You want to feel everything, feel the way I fit around you. Take your time. There’s no rush, Jay.”

He kissed you, then, his hands around your throat. Jay pushed himself inside of you again, this time noting how delicious the stretch was, how your pussy squeezed his cock mercilessly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your lips were still on his. You moaned into each others’ mouths as he bucked his hips against yours. Jay’s hands fell from your neck to your shoulders to your breasts, fondling them slowly. He grew accustomed to this rhythm, of becoming one with you, and it was better than what he could have ever imagined.

Jay gently pulled you on top of him, his back hitting the bed. He thrusted into you slowly, languidly, and you matched his movements. From this position, Jay could swirl his tongue around your nipples again as his hands groped at your ass. He pushed you down on his cock, forcing you to take his full length. Now that your moans were no longer muffled by his lips, they reverberated all over your small room. The air was thick with your scent percolating with Jay’s, your soft moans with his harsh grunts.

Jay could feel his orgasm approaching, but he resisted the urge to pound into you. Instead, he rolled you over so that he was on top of you again. He pulled out of you and kissed you the way you liked, slowly, tongues meeting, spit dribbling down chins, hot, wet mouths sharing breaths. While you kissed, Jay’s hand worked down your body and he tried to find your clitoris again. Your hand reached out and gently guided him towards your small nub; he rubbed it in steady circles, and he relished in your whimpers.

“Are you close?” Jay asked before pressing his lips against yours again.

You nodded, unwilling to stop kissing him.

With that, Jay thrusted inside of you again, his fingers still playing with your clitoris. He felt powerful as he felt your back arch. When he dug his knee up slightly, he could feel your legs begin to tremble. Finally, he let himself go, rutting into you the way he had wanted from the start, his free hand on your waist. Jay grunted as he approached his high, his eyes shutting in ecstasy.

You came first, whining his name and clutching him tightly. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and he came with a final, primal grunt, emptying himself in you.

Jay didn’t want to pull himself out of you. He wanted you to stay full of him, and the way you held him made him think you felt the same way.

Jay kissed your forehead and laid on top of you, stroking your cheek as you came down from your highs together. The way you nestled your head into his neck made his heart sing, and your scent was even stronger now. He knew that he could never let go of you.

You were his summer girl.

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