#an uncomfortable position to be in for someone like me who's never been good at maintaining a steady and impeccable workflow

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Wait for you Pt.2 | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?

Warnings: angst, fluff:3

Word count: ~4.9K

A/N: Hello hello! I have finally got aroud to finishing this piece! Hope ya'll enjoy it <3

Lando could not concentrate, not for more than a sentence before his mind was once again playing you as his favourite movie.

Your smile, your eyes it all felt too good to be true and lord… the kiss. Lando had to physically restrain himself every time his mind went there. All he wanted was to run out of this room full of people talking about plans for the upcoming race and just run to you.

His skin was itchy and on fire from waiting for your touch. Now that you’ve given him a dose, given him hope, he was hooked with anticipation for more.

After the conference everyone dispersed into their own rooms except for Lando who followed Oscar to his driver’s room.

“Oscar you will not believe what happened!” Lando giggled as he closed the door.

Thus began the recollection of the touching moment on the roof top with you.

“- and then I asked her out and she said yes, and even gave me a kiss on my cheek before I entered the conference room! Can you imagine that Oscar?! She kissed me!” excitement was pooling around Lando’s lower lash line.

Oscar had forgotten what a truly happy Lando looked like and no matter how tired he was now, he did not want to be anywhere but right here on the uncomfortably tough sofa, listening to his friend talk about his love, especially because that love was you.

“Well that sounds like good news mate, where are you gonna take her by the way?” Oscar watched the life drain from Lando’s face as the excitement for the rendezvous converted to pure stress of the situation.

“Oh my God?! Where am I going to take her?!” Lando started pacing around the small room in circles making Oscar feel positively dizzy just from following Lando with his eyes.

“HELP ME OSCAR!” The older male pulled at his own hair out of sheer desperation for someone else’s input.

“Well just take her where you’ve taken her before, it’ll help her jog the memory,” Oscar answered calmly, rubbing his eyes. Lando’s pacing really did make him dizzy.

“Wait, that’s actually a really good idea. She loved our first date, she was never tired from talking about it,” Lando‘s eyes sparkled with the memory of your hands wrapping around his every time you told someone about your first date. Those were the moments when Lando understood just how deeply he felt for you and how you loved him just as much.

“Exactly. Everything is gonna work out, I can feel it,” Oscar laid an encouraging hand on his teammates shoulder. If reassurance was what Lando needed, Oscar will be there to provide.

The next few days at the paddock were filled with shy glances and giggles as the date spurred the two to secure their connection. Your laughter was never ending as so were Lando’s bright smiles. It seemed that every sentence Lando could think of sounded like the funniest joke to your ears.

While Oscar explained their upcoming race schedule to Lando, comically unbeknownst to him, Lando’s eyes were trained only on one person, as for all his attention too.

“What do you think about that Lando?” Oscar looked into the eyes of his friend only to find his point of attention trained behind himself rather than at him.

As he turned to find the culprit of Lando’s attention, he found no one else but you perched on a counter, lit up by the golden evening sun. Lando giggled as you waved at him and lifted his hand to wave back at you, both of your blushes ever-growing.

“Oh c’mon man, we’ve been through this!” Oscar’s eyes rolled back into his skull.

Damn these two love birds. As much as Oscar was thrilled for his friends once again being together the shy-giggly faze is just as annoying as it was a year ago.

You winked at Lando and he almost lost his stance.

“Really?” Oscar signs.

“She’s flirting with me!” Lando became defensive clutching his chest.

“Mate she’s literally your girlfriend…”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Lando’s smile never left his face as he watched your eyes focus back on the book that lay rested on your thighs.

In that moment something clicked for Lando. Life is truly as good as it can get. All uncertainty has been washed away by hope. It truly felt like you were healing him with every single glance. Perhaps it was just Lando’s imagination but whenever he met your eyes they were yours, he knew those eyes and for the first time in a long time Lando could let himself cry out of happiness when thinking of you. The clouds have dispersed, with each passing day you remembered more and said things that would make Lando stop in his tracks.

Lando no longer needed to look for you, because you were already there…

The over-packed luggage bag fell out of your hands at the sweet sight of a white fluffy bed. Lord knows you wasted no time jumping into the bed after kicking your shoes off at the door.

“Ughhh, this is heaven,” your voice was muffled by numerous pillows, but Lando still heard it clearly.

“I’m gonna set up my sim here, okay?” He asked, unsure if you wished for him to leave or stay. After all sleep was what you favoured over anything.

“Yeah it’s no problem, you know I don’t mind you being around,” you lifted your head slightly and shot him a smile.

“You’re the best!” Lando smiled in excitement and in a few minutes the desk area of the hotel bedroom became a sim racing corner.

“cute,” you admired the man only loud enough for yourself to hear.

It felt like only a couple seconds had passed before Lando was once again calling your name.

“Y/nnnn, are you sleeping?” His eyes met your half lidded ones. Gosh you looked cute, all sleepy… and so kissable.

“I am now,” you yawned the words out, eyes not yet fully open.

“Good, you better not be sleeping, I need you to see me win this,” his concentration in the game never faltered even with you on his mind.

“Don’t worry I’m awake,” you yawned once again making Lando chuckle. “You know, you could just wake me up when you finish and tell me the result?”

“Nooo,” he whined, “I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me?” He turned back for a second just to make sure you were behind him.

And you were. You were sitting there wrapped in a blanket, eyes big and oh so soft. You were there with him and that was all he ever needed.

You climbed out of the bed and stood behind him, hands in his hair and a kiss on his temple to which he let out a satisfactory sigh. ”You’re going to win Lan, I know you can.”

“I’ll only win if you’re by my side, love.” He crossed the finish line and turned around kissing you deeply before you could even congratulate him. His hands were quick to hook under your thighs, your warm skin tickling his fingers. He picked you up effortlessly, nestling the both of you into the bed that had already soaked up the scent of your floral perfume. It’s the same one he gifted you on your last birthday.

Your hands tangled around him, pulling him closer until you breathe the same air. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated to a point where you could barely see the storm of green and blue. Your fingertips draged across his soft skin and to his silky curls. He was everywhere and you hoped it always stayed that way.

You’re still drunk on quality sleep when the morning light pulled you out of the peaceful slumber. Your hands instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed ghosting over the empty mattress, “Lan?”

A pout formed on your lips as you found the bed empty and void of any and all warmth.

Suddenly your eyes shot open but then again closed up, pain of the bright lighting residing in your retina.

You turned to your left side. Empty bedside. No Lando.

You felt yourself swimming in confusion. Your memories mixing with moments unseen before.

Was I dreaming? Dreaming of Lando in my bed? Quite puzzling indeed. 

But what puzzled you most was that you were in Spain, but Lando was not in your bed.

That revelation, for some unknown reason, did not sit well with you.

Overwhelmed you sat up on the bed, trying so hard to understand why for the love of god you were looking for Lando in your bed.

Why would Lando be here? Why was he in my dream? Was it really a dream?

You got off the bed and started looking for any clues that the dream was not actually a dream but reality.

Although the only thing you found is yourself feeling something for Lando Norris you had not felt before.

Dream or reality? This only served to confuse your heart further.

Your eyes caught the clock on the wall, a clear sign that you should hurry as the slender black arrow was about to meet the number seven.

Today was a free day for the grid. That meant that you were to meet Oscar and Lando in the hotel gym and later head for a complimentary breakfast with the two.

Hanging at the gym with them was not as fun as most imagine. Without their active energy being aimed at making jokes it was easy to get bored since you were not in a mood for a workout.

After walking around for a good five minutes you ran into Alonso.

Ever since you first came to formula 1 Fernando fit right into your life, kind of like a father figure at most times and sometimes as an older and much wiser friend.

For that very reason you were now sat at one of the many leather benches talking the older man’s ear off about everything that had been going left instead of turning out right.

“Every day whenever I’m left alone it just gets so annoying, like I truly have nothing to do, but I have nothing I want to do. Like I’m just trying to sit somewhere and relax but it somehow feels too bland,” a heavy sign exited your lungs making Fernando put down his weights and put all of his attention on you now.

“Take them,” he was clutching a plastic earphone box lightly in his left hand, extending it towards you.

“Don’t you need them?” you lifted your eyes out of curiosity but did not dare take them just yet.

Fernando was quick to brush your question off, “Ech, I don’t like these wireless things, I always loose them.”

Your eyes locked on the case. Do I even like listening to music?

“Don’t worry these are unused, I got them from PR this morning,” he let out a chuckle, unnerved by your silence after being surrounded by your voice for so long.

“Are you sure?” you were uncertain but Fernando thrust the case into your hands and ruffled your hair as you smiled up at the man. “Thank you Fernando.”

“It’s all my pleasure sweetheart, it’s about time you started listening to your music again.”

Fernando walked away before you could inquire him about your taste of music, and how he knew so much about it.

There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling. You felt as if you were behind in class, like everyone knew what was going on and which formula to use for a certain problem, but you did not.

Everyone around you seemed to know things about you before you got to discover them yourself and that did nothing but make you uncomfortable in your own skin.

That is where the spiralling set in.

All of a sudden the world shifted off its natural axes and you were no longer there. Your words seemed to get stuck in your head, your movements too slow and every time you tried to pay attention your mind was engulfed in a thick cloud.

It was all messing you up to further close in on yourself.

Lando noticed. Of course Lando noticed. Even if it was only a week, Lando noticed…

There was one thing Lando actually paid attention to and it was you. But once again his great attraction to you was beginning to pain him, little by little scratching at his heart. With each cold shoulder and weak smile he could feel it, he could feel you moving further from him while he was stationary, just a few steps behind you, nonetheless too far than he’d like to be.

Lando’s eyes drifted around the white ceiling of his driver’s room as he tried to trace his steps back and see what might have caused you to stray from him. Was it something he did? If it was he’d better fix it before it became too late. But what could he have done?

You had the date about three weeks ago, that was fine, great even, and he hadn’t had you so happy and respondent in months. Then there was the free week before Spain which he spent with his family while you went to Australia with Oscar, but you texted and called every single day, most days it was you who initiated the calls and reassured him that he was not keeping you from sleep as the two of you were separated by many, many hours.

Then there was the night you landed in Spain. Lando had waited in the airport for hours, wishing he was the one to take you to the hotel and surprise you with your favourite flowers.

He remembered Spain last year. He could never forget, it was your first time at a race as a couple, the relationship still fresh as a wildflower. Lando was hoping for a win, and he felt he could win with you by his side, like he did the night before on the sim, only because you were there watching him with your soft loving and undeniably sleepy eyes…

He expected to jog your memory with the help of the familiar Spanish scenery however it appeared to blow up right in his face the next day.

He picked you up at the airport and you were happy. Right? Yes. You jumped into his arms, you held his hand and even let a tear escape your eye as you held the flowers close to your chest. On the ride to the hotel you talked so much, excitedly telling him about all kinds of aussie adventures you, Oscar and his girlfriend Lilly got up to. He listened all through them with a pearly smile, even if he had heard the stories before from Oscar, asking you questions while knowing the answers to them only because he knew you’d feel cared for and appreciated if he asked. And to end the short but splendid night you kissed goodnight after he walked you to your room. It was meant to be a thank you for his kindness but the real thank you for him where your eyes.

Your eyes were his weakness since day one.

But the next day your eyes were not your eyes anymore… They were not yours ever since.

Was this it? Is this how life is going to be now? He will work and work to get just a bit of you for you to forget it all the next day.

He had heard about such a thing from doctors how some amnesia patients have clear sky days when they become who they were before but even a slight factor can alter that and not an hour later they can forget all that happened before.

Does this mean you will never remember him?

What if you never love him again…

“Lan get up you muppet we have a race starting in 20,” Oscar yanked the older boy awake from his daydream and watched him return to reality. “Everything okay mate?” he observed the tired eyes of his friend.

“Yeah… let’s go.” Lando trained his gaze away from Oscar and left the room first. As much as he needed to talk about you now, he just couldn’t do it, not to Oscar, not again…

Your fingers mindlessly wrapped around your ring pulling it on and off constantly before your skin started burning, but that didn’t stop your behaviour.

Thanks to your mind running faster than an F1 car you’ve figured out a few things this week.

First. You liked Lando Norris. And that’s great.

But dreaming about him being your boyfriend? Now that’s a bit too much.

Second. You liked music. More than you initially thought you did.

Third. You liked cornflowers. The blue ones.

You didn’t know that before. You couldn’t really think of a flower you liked before…

Fourth. You had no idea who you were.

There it was again, that unshakable feeling out of alignment. Like the whole world had tilted and you were no longer on the same axis as before. Was it only a few degrees off but you felt worlds apart from the days before.

Your heart was racing again, lungs refusing to take in the oxygen, though it was all around. It was easy and natural to breathe, something no one needed to think about to control, it just happened and for some reason you were once again stuck unable to control your own self, just as you were unable to calm your pounding head.

You entered the garage where Oscar and Lando stood listening to one of their engineers explaining something to them animatedly. The earbuds in your ears were almost unnoticeable, even with the melodic tune, until you made eye contact with Lando’s clear blues did the familiar tune follow.

But I knew you,

Dancin' in your Levi's,

Drunk under a streetlight,

I knew you.

All of a sudden it hit you quite literally like a truck full of bricks. And the world completely swung off its axis.

The memories spun as a wind whirl in front of your eyes.

It played like a movie.

Your eyes filled with tears before you could turn away and leave the crowded space. Too confused and much too overwhelmed with what you’ve just remembered.

There was Lando, and he was everywhere. He was holding your hands and he was kissing you and he was sleeping in your bed. But you didn’t understand where all of this came from, when just moments ago you were trying to figure out if you even like the man, now you felt such a tremendous pull towards him, it scared you.

Lando had watched your small smile fade into a look of confusion and your eyes filled with tears. Your last look was it. Eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy. Something he had not seen in months now. Your whole face was contoured with memories of you two together. And he could see that, he could see it from your eyes, the eyes that recognised him once more, only they were not glistening with love but with salty tears.

She remembered me. She is crying.

Panic ran Lando’s blood cold. He wanted to chase after you but before he could take one step in your direction a firm hand on his shoulder held him back.

Lando looked at the hand before lifting his eyes to meet the concerned eyes of his teammate, “Lando I know what she means to you, but you have a race starting in 5 minutes. We need to get in those cars.”

“But she’s crying Oscar, something is wrong.” Lando’s voice was demanding and rough, if he needed to push Oscar down to get to you he’d do it, no matter how much the thought of hurting his friend displeased him.

Oscar registered the fiery gaze that made home in Lando’s eyes and he did not want to see what followed but he had no thought of letting him go.

“You have to make a choice Lando. It was never going to be easy.”

As much as it hurt Oscar to say those words to his friend, all he wanted was for you and Lando to be together again.

But Oscar saw you this week. And he saw Lando this week. And neither were sights to marvel at.

You were always an extension of Lando and he poured all he had into the girl he loved. But you were different now, and that was changing Lando, although not always in a right way.

By the end of the day if you did not remember loving him and if their labour proved fruitless Lando would have nothing left. No you, no him. For now Lando at least had F1 and Oscar knew that the only thing he could do is help his friend protect his precious job because he had no call in your mind or feelings.

Only a month ago Oscar felt how everything would work out, but maybe working out meant you two finding your happiness apart and not together. Healing separately and moving on from what had passed. As disturbing as that sounded, it looked like the only solution for both of your wellness.

“Boys, cars, now!” a voice boomed, directing them to take their positions.

Oscar and Lando shared one last glance before Lando pulled his helmet back on and settled into his seat.

It’s gonna be a tough race. Oscar thought.

As expected the race was unlike no other this year, 3 crashes, 5 DNF’s all while Lando drove with the concentration of an eagle, his eyes on the road, but your eyes in his mind.

Lando was rethinking everything, he quite literally had the time, almost two hours before he’s allowed out of this car and can finally see you, he needed to be ready for what was to come in the future… or if there was any future for the two of you left.

What if it is the end?

What if you don’t want him anymore?

A couple of tears travelled down his hot cheek and mixed with his sweat. His eyes were burning, his chest was burning but he pushed and pushed himself unafraid to perform a dangerous over-take with the car in front of him. Mere seconds later a loud cheer echoed through his ear.

“P1 LANDO! YOU ARE THE WINNER LANDO!”

“I won?” He repeated while finishing the cool-down lap, complete disbelief soaking his words.

As soon as he stepped out of the car it was all cheering and flashing lights.

I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me? His own voice resonated through his ears, the memory of your eyes before him.

That was the last thread before he broke down crying next to his car.

Everyone cheered even louder. They thought he was facing the high of his life while he felt like rotting in hell.

He needed you to see him when he won. Now he did win, but you were not watching…

He knew you. He knew you so well. When you told him you’d be there, when you kissed his cheek, when you watched the night sky with him, when you held his hand. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d get to hold your hand again and watch you smile all thanks to his wit.

Only he did not know it would be temporary…

Air got caught in Lando’s throat, it was suffocating being encaged within the helmet.

While Lando stood on the podium accepting his award not once did he look down at the crowd before him. Keeping his eyes on the trophy or the other men sharing the podium with him.

But never down, never to the left corner where from the side of his eye he could see that cluster of bright papaya, never to the very front of that gate, never to where you were supposed to be standing.

Because inside he knew that you were not there, but if he never looked back there then there will be no confirmation, so the theoretical possibility that you might just be there was all he could get and he would hold on to it for dear life.

If he never looked down, he could just let himself imagine that you were there, watching him win…

“See boy, you can’t win everything, but when your time comes, you get all that you want. And Lando, you very well deserve this,” it was Fernando tapping the younger boy on the shoulder, expressing his congratulations.

yeah… I won a race but I lost my love.

Sadness encapsulated his heart and the last thing he wanted now was to pretend to celebrate a long awaited win. Before anyone could get their hands on him he disappeared to his driver’s room.

He opened the door and locked it behind himself. He needed to be alone now.

“Lando,” your soft voice greeted him.

“I knew you,” your eyes were ablaze, “I don’t know how or where it came from, but I knew you and I loved you.” You tried your best to calmly express all feelings that came crashing down on you mere hours ago.

“Loved?” Lando breathed under his nose, he was shattered beyond repair as your declaration made him take in a large gulp of air. Lando could feel himself getting mad. This is so fucking unfair.

“You’re so mean.” He slumped down on the couch, his eyes directed away from you.

“What? Lando I’m trying to-“, you stepped closer to him, instantly regretting that decision.

“AND YOU DON‘T THINK I AM?! I’ve been trying for months now, all alone, while you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even know me, while I had to live around you, still in love with you. It’s so unfair, SO FUCKING UNFAIR ALL OF THIS!”, his hands waved with inner rage. He knew he wasn’t mad at you, it was not your fault, but he was mad at something and he needed to let that out. He needed you to finally know how he felt.

“Lando I am sorry, I-“, you tried to interrupt before Lando completely broke.

“IT’S SO UNFAIR THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME. SURE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, BUT I DO, I REMEMBER, YOU PROMISED ME YOU’D WATCH ME WIN! AND YOU DIDN’T! YOU LIED!” With each word his voice became louder and louder, he was letting his emotions out for once, tired of holding them in for the sake of everyone else but himself.

“I know Lando! And I did watch you,” you tried to keep your mind levelled and let him let his frustrations out.

“NO, NO YOU DIDN’T, YOU RAN OUT BEFORE THE RACE COULD EVEN START, Y/N I SAW YOU!”

“I. WATCHED. YOU.” You’re the one to raise your voice now, getting close to his face. You needed to show him that you could hear him.

“We were here in Spain a year ago and you were sim racing before the race, you told me to watch you race, because you wanted me to see you win and you did win. But when we woke up the next day I had caught a cold and could not watch you race out on the circuit. You lost and you were crushed. I know Lando. I was there. And I am here now, only this time I was here too, I watched you race and I watched you win.” Your own voice glazed in assertiveness just to make him listen.

Lando’s eyes were in tears, his hands in tight fists unable to understand how something like this could have happened. All of these emotions crashing down on him, he didn’t know what to do, he did not know how to react, he was lost.

Your gentle touch worked to unwrap his tight grip and relax him before placing his palms on your tear stained cheeks.

You’d show him a way, the way you always had.

“I remember Lando. I remember everything. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But we can fix this we can work on this together right?” you pleaded with your eyes, attentively searching his own for an answer.

Lando’s first instinct was to pull you into a crushing hug, breathing you in like you were his oxygen.

Lando finally felt at home. It was and always would be your touch, your presence that could ground him.

“You came back to me. I will do everything to keep you close, Y/n,” He whispered into your neck, the hot air tickling your skin making you giggle.

“You came back,” he held you even tighter and your hands were just as firm grasping him.

“I‘ll never leave you again,” you ran your hands through his soaked curls, letting the memories of your life before take over each one of your cells and fill you, “I’m sorry for taking so long my love,”

“Don’t be.” Lando broke the hug so he could look into your eyes again.

Now he saw his true prize. It was your eyes, your rosy cheeks, your glistening lips. You were back and you still loved him,“ I’d always wait for you.”

^^

Tags: @goldsbitch @cmleitora @mickslover @darleneslane @queenofmanydreams @ujws5

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris x reader imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #lando norris angst #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #f1 #lando norris fic #f1 x reader #angst with a happy ending #light angst

[astrababyy]

i think the thing that frustrates me the most about feyre's character post-acotar — hell, even post-acomaf — is that she stops being a character past that point in the series. acomaf, i can still see elements of feyre's original character, but i think acowar and beyond (especially acofas and acosf) is where her character devolves completely into something virtually unrecognizable. and this, in my opinion, is because once she and rhysand become established in their relationship, her entire characterization starts to revolve around him.

prior to acomaf/acowar, feyre has a personality independent of the relationships she has with other people. her characterization has its flaws, as the first book is flawed as a whole, but she's generally a decently-crafted character. feyre is an interesting character because, in the first portion of the book, we learn that she's a jaded, clever huntress who is willing to kill to survive and make painful decisions for the good of herself and her family. she's bitter, resentful, and miserable, and the crux of her life revolves around survival.

but then we learn new things. feyre loves painting, and if she had a choice, she'd marry off her sisters and live peacefully with her father, spending her days painting anything her heart could desire. she's capable and an able killer, but her dreams and wants are for a peaceful life. these desires are expanded upon later in the book when we learn that, if given the option, feyre wouldn't kill. she's jaded and can come off as someone who'd be a stereotypical "girlboss," badass killer. but in reality, feyre doesn't like bloodshed. she doesn't like killing, and if she had it her way, she'd never kill another living thing again.

this is interesting. acotar!feyre is actually a very interesting and dynamic character when compared to who she becomes in later books. she has an internal conflict that affects every aspect of who she is, and it is this conflict that is so deeply tied to what she's forced to do in the climax of the story: either kill innocent faeries or watch as the love of her life dies before her very eyes. this final trial is so painful because it's been established that, in a peaceful environment, a killer is not someone feyre wants to be, and a killer is instead what she's forced to become.

then, of course, acomaf happens and yada, yada, yada. she's still a relatively interesting character on her own, if (arguably) ooc, but has an independent characterization regardless. it's after this book where things take a turn for the worse.

in acowar, feyre is no longer the character who protects the "little guy" and would give up petty jewels to make sure a faerie can eat. she's no longer the character who acts based on her morals and inherent humanity, rather than faerie logic. instead, she's the character who destabilizes an entire court on the brink of war, uncaring of the consequences to the people of spring. in acofas, she's buying another goddamn house while people in velaris and beyond are struggling to make ends' meet following the war that she and rhys dragged them into. in acosf, she's doing the same fucking thing to nesta that destroyed and traumatized her a few books previous, and she's become the glorified housewife to rhysand. she's having his kid when she's not even 25 yet. she's being paraded around like some prized horse. she's sitting around, painting and decorating houses, while rhys does all the actual politicking. she's exactly what she feared she'd become in acomaf, and there's no consequence whatsoever.

this is not the feyre of acotar. this feyre is the faceless, empty love interest to the real main character: rhysand. she's a reflection of him. that's why she went from the woman who feels uncomfortable wearing fancy jewels to the woman who'd spend her newfound millions on frivolous lingerie rather than do anything meaningful with her position as high lady. that's why she went from the character who had respect and a new understanding of nesta in book 1, to the character that'd do such horrendous things to her in acosf. that's why she stands around and lets rhys and amren bully and degrade nesta. she's not a character anymore. she's just rhysand's mate.

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #sjm critical #acotar meta #acotar #feyre archeron #astrababyy #anyway fuck rhysand #the way he treats feyre is disgusting #and she would NEVER let half the shit he does slide if she was still the character she'd once been #anti acowar #anti acosf #anti acofas

[xomoosexo]

this internet thing that "13-16 shouldn't be friends with adults" is so silly to me because all of my friends are 18, 19 and 20 while i'm 16, and we're like. normal??

like if the adult is a Normal Person and acts normal towards them it's not weird? just my opnion tho

what is this in response to

#okay i think this is a complicated discussion its hard to fully comprehend if youve never been in the adults position #i think in the discord/online gaminh space a lot of adults game with and are friends with older teenagers and its very normL #like there are 16yr olds i play mc and hang with #but im not close friends with them tho i know people who are #anything younger than 16 is definitely a no tho for me thats just super uncomfortable #and i think at your age the differnce between 13 and 16 doesn't seem that great but trust me its huge #like just the point is that yes at 16 you can totally have healthy friendships with people in that age range buuuuut #its important to stay vigilant because even if you think someone is normal/a good person they can still take advantage of you!! #at any age- but especially when you are younger! #askies

[rockettothestars222]

Mama’s Boy

Summary : During a bonding activity at the hotel, parents get brought up. Everyone seemed okay with talking a little about their parentage, but Alastor was off put by the topic. He didn’t think anyone would notice the way his smile strained, or that anyone would care when he slipped away, but you did. You cared. And you wanted to help him, even if he didn’t want to accept it.

Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor misses his mom, Alastor needs a hug, Alastor is losing it

Notes : Lots of people seemed to enjoy my interpretation of soft Alastor in my last oneshot, so here’s another one! I heart Alastor sm. Enjoy!

Word Count : 2.3k

——————

“Well you know! When your dad is the king of Hell, it complicates things sometimes, and with as long as my mom has been gone—” Charlie’s voice grows distant as you lose focus. It’s not that you don’t care, you’ve all just been talking about your parents for a good hour and a half. It started with a bonding exercise Charlie had decided would be fun. It started with talking about who people who meant a lot to you, and when Husk mentioned his father, everyone began to add on.

You looked around at everyone’s faces, and everyone seemed content with the conversation. Charlie was droning on about her familial issues, Angel had talked about his mother beforehand, and even Pentious mentioned some fond memories of his parents. But Alastor had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole experience.

Your gaze finally falls on The Radio Demon himself, an uncomfortable and awkward posture taking its hold on him. He was standing straighter than usual, his grin that was as consistent as he was creepy was now fairly strained, as his eyes darted, trying to look at anything but the company he surrounded himself with. Your brows furrowed as you stared, though you tried to make it not so obvious. His shoulders sunk for a moment as you watched him suck in a breath, readjusting to his normal position and finally breaking his silence.

“You’ll all have to excuse me for a moment, I have some business to attend to!” His preppy voice cut through Charlie’s dialogue as the focus in the room catches on him. His eyes finally find someone to land on. You! Oh, he’s looking at you. You blink as his gaze narrows, turning on his heels as the rest of the room murmurs goodbyes. Your eyes followed his path, watching him disappear further into the hotel.

“I didn’t think we had anything else on the agenda today,” Vaggie glances to her girlfriend, looking for some sort of explanation for the overlord’s odd behavior. You cast a glance Charlie’s way as well, curious, but you were met with a shrug and an absentminded smile.

“Must be personal errands or something! We can keep going with the activity,” she motions to you with her hand, encouraging you to speak about your own experiences. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes drifted back to the spot where Alastor had once stood. You had an itching sensation in your brain that you had a hunch wouldn’t fade unless you figured out what was going on.

You and Alastor were close, to some extent. He spoke to you more openly than any of the others at the hotel. And you were the same with him. But one thing he would never talk about was his life before Hell. It was a mystery. Like a locked vault that’s code was long gone. But you longed to grow closer to him. You’d be lying if you said your feelings toward the demon hadn’t begun to bubble into something more, but now wasn’t the time to process that. You had more interesting things to think about.

After a long beat of silence, you stood up.

“Sorry Charlie, but I gotta use the bathroom, I’ll be back in a bit!” You assure with a toothy grin and a thumbs up. The princess could only giggle, nodding at you and ushering to go take care of your ‘business.’

You hurried off in the direction Alastor had gone, going through a list of places he’d likely be in your head. Kitchen? No, he’d gone the opposite direction. Radio tower? He only went up there to broadcast. Library? Hotel doesn’t have one of those. You frowned. He’d like one though, you were sure of it.

His room.

It was the only other logical place to check in the hotel. You picked up your pace, his room was on one of the higher floors of the hotel. Finally reaching the elevator, you hesitate. Alastor wasn’t a vulnerable person. If something was wrong, would he tell you? You pressed the button for the elevator, despite doubt eating at the inside of your stomach. Stepping onto the dinky machine, you pressed the button for the floor you needed, taking a breath in and out. You needed to know what was going on with him.

The elevator hummed to life as it hoisted you upwards, an awkward silence falling over you, despite there being no one else in the machine. It dinged as you hit your desired floor, and you sighed, happy to be off of the unreliable thing. You continued your journey to The Radio Demon’s room, you face beginning to sour as you realized how unrealistic you were being. Al would never admit to you what was wrong. You knew that. Why were you trying?

As you reached his door, you stared up at it. A deer skull was etched into the red wood, a golden knob flourishing in the flickering lights of the hotel. You couldn’t give up on him. You’d gone through a lot to try and get close with Alastor. You couldn’t throw that effort away because of doubt. How idiotic would that be?

Without much thought, you placed your hand on that beautiful golden knob, slowly turning it, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door slowly swung open, not so much as a creak coming from its hinges. You made a mental note to ask him how he got his door to be so quiet when all this was over, gently closing the door behind you. Sat on his bed, hunched over and face in his hands was The Radio Demon himself. Your eyes scanned the room as you tried your absolute best to not loudly question how he had a SWAMP in his room. Now wasn’t the time.

You walked into his room, approaching the deer-like demon in silence. You could hear muffled sniffles from under his hands, and he seemed far too lost in his own thoughts to pay your presence any mind. You, with slight hesitation, placed your hand on his shoulder. His body stiffened as his fingers parted slightly, his red eyes peering up at you through his lashes.

“Alastor, are you—”

A black tendril wrapping around your arm and pushing you back put a hold on your sentence. You stumbled backwards, barely catching yourself as you looked Alastor. He stood up, fast, tear stains brandishing his cheeks as his smile, that was somehow still there, strained into what was the closest thing to frowning he may be capable of. His neck bent wildly, his body growing larger in size as his eyes turned a shadowy black.

“GET OUT.” His voice was crackled with radio static, his teeth glued shut as his spoke through them like he was, well, a radio.

You’d never wanted to run away more than in that moment. This had gotten intense VERY quickly, and it was a bit frightening. But as your neck craned up and your eyes met his, and you’d never been met with such sadness.

“I can’t. Not until you talk to me, Alastor,” your words were firm, but your eyes were soft. Full of compassion. He shook his head, eyes squinting shut.

“You want me to talk to YOU? Why are you even trying to pretend to care?!” Alastor’s voice cracked as he slammed his fists onto the ground, the floor shuddering beneath him. You stepped closer, your eyes pleading silently that he’d hear you. Not just listen to your words, but comprehend them.

“I’m not trying to pretend anything. But I could tell you were upset earlier, and it’s obvious that you are now! I just want to be here for you! I want to understand!” Your voice rose in volume as you stood your ground, not faltering even this slightest bit. An almost animalistic growl left The Radio Demon’s throat as he moved closer to you.

“You truly want me to believe you’d ‘understand?!’ My mother was the ONLY person I had when I was alive, she was the only one that was there for me! The only one I’d ever DARE let myself be vulnerable around because she would NEVER hurt me,” Alastor’s hands clutched his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as his eye twitched. You listened with a solace look upon your face, narrowing your eyes at him with pity creasing your brow. “And NOW look at me. A demon. A MONSTER. I’ve ended countless lives, she was a saint among the living, and I am a HELLSPAWN. What would,” he collapsed to his knees, arms falling limp to his sides as he returned to his natural form, his voice falling quiet. “What would she think of me now? Her precious pride and joy. A murderer. She would be disgusted by me. Does it even matter? I’ll never see her again. She died long before I did. And now I’m here. Alone.”

Silence fell over the room as Alastor’s chest heaved, tears streaking his face once again. You waiting a moment before approaching him, kneeling down in front of the taller man. You gently, somewhat hesitantly, took his cheek in your hand, tilting his head to make him look at you. Your eyes scanned his face, eyeing that never ending smile. Your lips tugged upward as your thumb caressed his cheek, making a moment of contact with the corner of his lips.

“I bet your mom misses that smile,” his ears pinned down to the sides of his head, Alastor’s trembling hand covered your own, his smile tugging tighter as he leaned into your touch. “You’re not alone, Alastor.”

He fell into you, and your eyes widened in surprise. His head buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his tears coating your skin and shirt. His arms wrapped around your torso, his claws were surprisingly gentle. Almost like he was being cautious. You moved from your knees to your butt with a quiet thump, pulling his body closer to yours. One of your arms wrapped tightly around the lower half of his torso, the other around his shoulders, your hand combing through his soft hair.

Alastor’s face was warm against your skin, you could hear every sniffle, feel every shudder as soft sobs wracked his body. Sometimes, being in Hell made you forget, every person you met down here was once innocent. They were once alive, vulnerable, and just someone trying to find their place in the world. Big bad overlords like the on you were cradling in your arms were once human. They all were someone’s pride and joy, someone’s baby, someone’s entire reason to keep living. Despite what they’d become, they once were soft and pure, nothing is born evil. And times like this made you remember that.

After a good few minutes of The Radio Demon crying into your shoulder, he’d finally calmed, now just sitting in that same position, holding you close, a small sniffle every once in a while. You’d been lulling soft words into his ear, your best attempt to relax him. Slowly, Alastor picked his head up, straightening himself to sit sort-of-in-front-of-you, your legs were a little tangled due to the way you’d both been sitting for the past while. He looked into your eyes, his hands were gently fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as he averted his gaze.

“This was. A relieving experience,” he admits, his smile small but seemingly genuine. His face was tear stained, there were light bags under his eyes, but all and all, he seemed a lot lighter.

“Good. That’s,, that’s good. I’m glad,” you gave a lopsided grin, moving your hands to caress his arms. “Seemed like you might’ve needed that.”

“I suppose I did,” he returned the motion, his hands falling to your hips, though loosely.

This was the most physically affectionate you’d ever seen Alastor. He, generally speaking, didn’t like much contact. The most people would get from him is a simple handshake or pinch of the cheek, maybe an arm around the shoulder, but it was almost always in a condescending way. But this was very different. It was softer, more intimate. You felt almost privileged to see this side of him.

“I meant what I said,” you break the string of comfortable silence. Alastor tilted his head, expecting some elaboration. “About wanting to be here for you. Whenever you need it, I’m always there.”

“I know you did, my dear. I would like to. Hm,” a pause. “I’m sorry. For snapping at you. It’s hard to be open when we are quite literally in Hell. I should’ve known better than to think you’d ever try to use this against me. You’d never do that, would you?” His grip on your hips tightened slightly. A warning. But also, a plead.

“Of course not, I’d never even think of it,” you gave his arms a reassuring squeeze, and his grip on you loosened. You could only smile, pulling yourself closer to him and placing your forehead against his. Alastor rolled his eyes though when they fell back to you, his whole expression softened. This was a tender moment, and wasn’t one that you’d likely ever get again.

You admired him for a short moment, allowing silly thoughts of romance and companionship dance in your head. Alastor, The Radio Demon, with a lowlife sinner like you? It would be unprecedented. And yet, you couldn’t help but let the softness of this moment cloud your judgement. You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth Alastor tensed. As you pulled away, you could see a very obvious blush across his face.

“Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, pulling away completely, withdrawing all contact. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Before he could reply, you gave a gentle pat on his head, and then walked out of his room. The overlord could only blink, watching you disappear. His heart fluttered with excited jitters as he stood, dusting himself off. He may just have to come to you with his issues more often.

#fanfic #writing #hazbin hotel #rockettothestars222 #reqs open #requests #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #comfort #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin husk

[cherry-leclerc]

forever be ☆ cl16

genre: porn with slight plot, humor, blind date trope, longing, age gap (6 years)

word count: 10.8k

Foolishly, you find yourself being dragged into an unwanted blind date. Again. Lucky for you, so is a special someone.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+... m!receiving, penetrative sex, appearance of tit foreplay and slight fingering, a bit of biting and crying (??)

inspired by this and this !

Blind dates were never something you ever thought you would consider. They never made much sense. Why would you put yourself in an uncomfortable position, and then what? You don’t like them and it doesn’t work out?

“Whole lot of bullshit if you ask me.” Kika swears as she tosses her brown locks over her shoulder. You’ve known each other for a few years, but quickly became as close as sisters during all the late night shoots you would have together. 

“You can’t be single forever,” she says as you roll your eyes. Ever since you broke up with your last boyfriend, she’s been playing matchmaker. It hasn’t quite worked out. 

He’s too vain.

Rude to waiters, no thank you.

He brought his mom to the date!

There was always something wrong and she knew it was only a matter of time before you completely blocked her advice. That is until her boyfriend, Pierre, told her he knew just the right person for you.

“Yikes, don’t put out any bad juju.” Theatrically, you make a cross with your two index fingers. She lets out a light giggle as she throws a pillow in your direction. You yelp as it hits your head.

“Just one more, okay? If it doesn’t work out then we can be done with all of this and have it your way.” 

“Threatening me, now?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “One more.”

-

The following week Kika confirms your date over brunch. He’s nice. Very handsome.

Sipping on your iced tea you nod. “I mean as long as he doesn’t ask me if I can help him win an ex-girlfriend back…” 

“It happened one time.”

-

Later that night for some reason you grow nervous as you get closer to your date. Palms get slightly sweaty and you hurriedly wipe away on your dress. “What the…” You’ve never been nervous before a blind date, why would you? Deep down you knew things like this never worked out, but why now?

“Here is fine!” Handing over some cash to the cab driver, you climb out as you make your way over to the dimly lit restaurant. Okay. A tad bit too romantic. Taking in a deep breath, you walk in. 

You’re quickly reminded why you hate stuff like this. You have no clue as to how your date looks and you’re left glancing around like a lost puppy. Kika had mentioned that he would be wearing something that would make it obvious. Scanning the room you search and everything looks quite normal. 

Except for the man who sits with black sunglasses.

“Charles?” He nods as he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. Startled, you pull back a bit.

“Shit, sorry. Habits.” A nervous laugh is released as you smile and he pulls out your chair to sit. 

“It’s okay, I’m not too used to all this European mannerism…” The shy smile that is sprawled on your lips has him almost blushing. You were beautiful. When Pierre had first mentioned his and Kika’s plan, he almost wanted to boot the idea right away. Nothing good ever came out of all this.

She’s super sweet! I’ve met her a couple of times and she’s really down to earth. 

But she’s a model? Tell me what model has ever been like that.

Kika slightly punches Charles’ shoulder as he winces. Sorry, he mutters.

Just trust us.

“Oh. You’re not from here?” You shake your head as your eyes scan the menu sitting right in front of you. You had barely met the guy, but his burning gaze was too much.

“No, but I moved here a year ago for work…Still catches me off guard at times.” He makes a mental note of the way you bit your cheek before you look up at him. He gulps.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon enough.” 

It surprises you how much he actually listens. It also surprises you even more that you actually enjoy hearing him talk. 

“Sorry if Pierre and Kika dragged you into all of this. I just…” He clears his throat before playing with the napkin on his lap. “I had a tough break up a few months ago and he’s been trying to get me to meet new people.”

Not what a girl wants to hear on a first date, but you would be a complete hypocrite if you judged him for it. “Don’t worry, they didn’t. I also went through a break up a few months back.”

He almost wants to laugh. Nice try. Who in their right mind would break up with someone as pretty as you? Long lashes fan your face as you take a bite of your raspberry pastry. The way your plump lips pressed together as you enjoy its taste. 

“I guess we’ll understand each other more than I anticipated.”

-

“How was it?” You pull the phone far away from your face as you put it on speaker. Walking towards the refrigerator you take out a plate of fruit. You hum.

“It was alright.” The Portuguese model gasps as she switches to FaceTime. Picking up, you lean against the counter. 

“You like him!” Choking on a blueberry you take a step back as if her words stung. Do not! But there’s no use. “Yes, you do! After every other date you would already have a reason ready as to why you couldn’t see them anymore, but look! Oh my God. You do have a heart!”

Frowning, you munch on a strawberry. “I’ve always had a heart.”

Kika lets out a slight pout as she nods apologetically. “I was kidding, of course you do. It’s just that this is the first guy you might actually like after that jerk you luckily now call your ex-boyfriend.” You snort. Kika giggles at the sound before she lays her phone against a pillow. “I just want you to finally meet someone who would actually fit your standards. It’s what you deserve.”

“Well, let’s just not get too ahead of ourselves.”

-

“10 minute break, darling.”

Smiling sweetly, you make your way over to your trailer before you flop down onto the couch. You lay there silently for a few minutes before you actually grab your phone.

Hey. It’s Charles.

Your heart flips as you think of a response. 

Hi!

Good enough. Three dots pop up before they disappear.

I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner later? 9pm if that fits with your schedule.

You smile as you tuck your hair behind your ear. See you then.

-

As soon as he sees you skipping down the stairs to him, he immediately feels better about feeling more excited to see you. The way you smile ear to ear when he hands you a colorful bouquet of flowers makes him thankful for listening to Kika’s advice. She likes carnations! Not roses.

“They’re so pretty! Thank you, Charles.” Even with heels you have to tippy toe to press a warm kiss against his stubble. Stepping back you look up with sparkling eyes. “Getting better with this whole ‘mwah’ thing, right?” He chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Totally.”

As he sits in front of you ordering for both of you, you take the time to notice everything about him. His lashes, his freckles, his pink lips, his dimples, his eyes. You pray that you don’t come off as a creep, but Charles was perfect. 

The waiter leaves and he turns to you with a grin. “How was work?” You’re a bit taken back by his question. It’s the most decent one out there, but not even your ex-boyfriend cared enough to ask.

You clear your throat. “Very well. Thank you for asking.” 

He nods before saying, “I never asked how old you were…I mean you moved here all alone, I would imagine you’re at least 22?” A slight panicked look crosses his features. You giggle.

“Something like that. I’m 20.” He lets out a breath of relief before taking a sip of red wine. “What about you?”

“I recently turned 26.” 

Older. Wiser. You could work with it. 

You’re both sharing a plate of tiramisu when he asks, “Would you like to go to one of my races?”

“Oh. Where?” You wish you could jump at the opportunity. I mean, if he’s asking if it's because he wanted you there, how could you say no? But you were flooded with upcoming photoshoots.

“Texas.” 

Now you were very interested. Green eyes stare back at you as he waits for a response, but then he shakes his head in a shy manner. “You’re probably busy. It’s okay-”

“I could make it work.” Pearly whites shine back at him. “I’ll make it work. I promise.”

-

You and Charles spend the few days together before he flies off to Texas. You learn very quickly that he is terrified of snakes.

“Ow!” 

You had both gone hiking and you were too busy admiring his glistening abs to notice the snake slithering right in front of you both. That is, until Charles shrieked and jumped onto your back. Unfortunately, you weren’t as strong as him.

He quickly rises up and he lifts you up from the floor and starts brushing the dirt off you. He immediately stops when he touches your ass. 

“It’s just a little snake, Charles,” you groan as he nods to himself. Of course, he squeaks, but he still hides behind your delicate figure. You want to hurl over laughing but you would hate to make him feel as if you’re teasing his phobia. “It’s probably harmless…” 

Just then you turn to the snake and see it making its way to you quickly. You squeal as you jump onto his back. “Go, go, go!” Gripping onto your legs, he starts running down the hill. Once you reach the bottom - which wasn’t that difficult since you had barely started your hike - he sets you down as he huffs. You giggle.

“Oh my God! That was so much fun!”

“No!” He slightly glares as you shut up. “Not fun at all.”

You bite your lip as you try your best to refrain from laughing. “Of course. Not fun at all.”

After Charles’ worst nightmare, you both decide to go back to his flat to cook some dinner after he bragged how he was a top chef.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, “Smells burned.”

Walking over to you he takes a look. “It’s fine! It’s a part of the process, amour.” A skeptical look stares back at him as he shoots a thumbs up and you listen regardless.

Taking a seat on his dining room table, you say a quick thank you when he hands you a plate. It looks pretty delicious, you’ll admit it, but you still had your suspicions. Taking a bite you quickly feel yourself wanting to spit it out, but you urge yourself to swallow. “Wow…Um…Really good.”

Taking a quick bite his jaw goes slack. He immediately spits it back out on a napkin. “Fuck! Oh God.” His face scrunched up as he looks to where you sit pretty, looking back at him with a little smirk. He wants nothing more than to kiss it away. “How could you even…”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“I could handle your critics y’know-”

“It was awful.”

“What the fuck,” he wails as he shuts his eyes and throws his head back. The sight itself has you almost drooling. Part of you wishes to climb onto his lap and kiss his thick neck. This is probably the face he makes when he gets his cock sucked, you think to yourself, but quickly scold yourself. Instead you place a soft hand over his.

“Sorry. How about we order take out?”

Sitting on his cloud couch you both enjoy warm Chinese food as you watch TV. “I could go to your race,” you speak up, chop sticks twirling. He lights up.

“Are you serious?” He sets his food aside as you nod. 

“It wasn’t easy, but yes. I’ll be able to go.”

He cups your face as he smiles. “You’re going to love it, oh, it’s one of the fun ones.”

Charles + Cowboys? Oh, you bet it will be.

As he walks you to your front door he brings up the idea over how you can travel with him through private jet. Have to treat you right since you fixed your schedule to come with me. Reluctantly, you agree.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow then?”

“I’ll be ready.”

He nods as he stares at your rosy lips. Would they feel as soft as they look? Would you taste as sweet as they seem?

“I’ll see-”

His large hands grab your waist as he leans down to kiss you. You're stunned for a single moment, but when you feel his warm tongue, you immediately let go. He kisses you so desperately, it has your knees buckling. Thank God he’s holding you up with his tight grip.

Pulling away, you place your hands over his chest, chest rising up and down. You press a soft kiss against his cheek as you step out of his magnetic field.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Charles.”

-

The game started out innocent, cheerful even, but now? 

This was war.

“You’re such a cheater! A bad one, too.” He furrows his brows as he frowns at you. Rolling your eyes, you lean against the small table that separates you both. He can’t help but stare at your chest, lingerie poking through. He has to stop himself from groaning at the sight. “Where are they, Charles?” He shakes his head.

“Je jure! Je jure! I swear I don’t have anything!”

Clicking your tongue you lean back against your seat as you let out a menacing smile. “Okay.” An uneasy feeling bubbles inside as he eyes you, slightly dubious. Alright then, he responds. The game of Uno continues as he grows more and more excited to win. Just one more card-

“What-”

“Oh. Were you looking for these?” Flashing a stack of cards towards him, his eyes grow wide. “Charles, Charles, Charles…” You wink at him, teasingly. “I’m always watching.” The rest happens in a blur and next thing he knows, you're celebrating. Standing up on the table, you sway your hips as you shimmy. He can’t help but smile, even if he lost. “Eat it and burn.” Just then the private jet enters a small wave of turbulence that causes you to fly straight into his lap. You both groan.

“Jesus.”

Blushing, you rub his head before rubbing yours, but he isn’t worried about that. He’s just trying to get over the fact that your ass presses right against him. You had to get off of him now. But the way you move against him to face him has him fluttering eyes closed. “Fuck, are you okay?” Your voice is filled with concern. Broccoli. Asparagus. Cabbage. Broccoli. Asparagus. Cabba-

“Oh God! I broke you!” Your warm hands against his face have him opening his eyes. 

“No! You didn’t. It’s just that…I’m trying to get my mind off of…” You’re nodding, urging him to continue as you comb your fingers through his hair. It feels so nice.

“Off of what?”

He lets out a shaky breath as his hands slide down to your waist. A warm sensation enters your lower belly with his touch. “You.” 

“Me? Wha- oh.” You feel him now. How hard he is under you. The way his grip turns more firm as he tries his best to keep his eyes open. “Oh Go- I’m gonna get up now-”

“Wait.” His warm hands push you deeper against him. “Just a minute. Please.”

Nodding, you stay quiet, him having his eyes closed as he falls into a pattern of inhaling and exhaling as if it was the most difficult thing to do. For him, it sure did seem like it. And he just looked so handsome. Eyes closed, head thrown back, pink lips turning slightly red from the occasional times he would bite down. So, it made perfect sense the moment you leaned up to kiss his throat. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

-

“What happened next?” Kika squeals as she claps her hands in delight. You had arrived a few hours ago and somehow already made your way to your best friend.

“This is a bit too much even for me, but what happened next?” 

And Pierre.

There was a bit of hesitation in your voice when you say, “Nothing.” The couple share a small glance before humming suspiciously. All of a sudden, your skin grows warm. “I’m being serious, nothing did! The flight attendant interrupted, letting us know we were about to land. If anything, we got scolded.” 

“Ha! He got - what do you call it again - blue balled!”

“Pierre!”

“Qu'est-ce que j'ai dis!”

Raising a single hand, you brush him off, as if his words didn’t matter. “It’s fine. But please…Can we just never mention this like, ever.” They both shake your hand before shooting a thumbs up. “Great.”

You continue catching up about other business. Pierre’s trouble with his car, Kika’s studies, your upcoming photoshoot with Dior. Everyone is so deep into the conversation that they don’t notice when Charles enters the rooms. He comes to a halt, a clear indication that he was surprised by their visit. “What are you guys doing here?”

Kika smiles. “Oh, you know. Catching up.” He nods, eyes shifting to his best friend. His brows furrowed with concern. 

“Is he okay?” 

But he really wasn’t. Pierre’s lips were tugging a teasing smile, face turning light red from how hard he was trying to suppress his words. If they were in a cartoon, fumes would be rushing out of his ears. The Portugues giggled nervously. “Of course he is!” She stands up in a hurry before grabbing his hand, already dragging him towards the exit. “We should get going though! See you guys later for dinner!”

As soon as they leave, he kisses your forehead. “Hey.”

“Hey. How was your meeting?”

He sighs as he takes a seat next to you. “Same old, same old. I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay.” No problem, you respond with a sympathetic smile. “I think I’m going to shower before we leave.”

Sitting on the bed, you weigh your options. Risky, you hum as you bite down on your lip. Really risky. Without sparing a second thought, you jump up as you swing your dress off, leaving you just in your panties and bra. Walking to the bathroom, you can’t help but sneak a peek in the nearby mirror. Trying your best to raise up some confidence, you apply some lipstick, tussle your hair a bit, pinch your cheeks for that natural blush. Giddy with excitement, you find yourself falling into little twirls.

“Hey, what do you think about– fuck.”

“Ah!” Dropping to the ground, you crawl like a little crab, rushing to hide behind the bed. “Close your eyes! This is–close your eyes!”

“Okay! They’re closed, they’re closed, don’t worry.” His voice is strained, you could tell. Your confidence is long gone as you climb underneath the covers. Part if you wants to rush out the door and never look back. That seemed like a pretty good idea. “Are you–can I…”

“Yes.” Opening his eyes, he finds you wrapped up with the white duvet, only your eyes peeking out. While he’s trying his best to get your body off of his head, your eyes wander his wet frame, towel wrapped around his waist. “Umm…I-I am so sorry you saw any of that…I…” 

Making his way closer, your heart thumps against your chest as a warning. Nope. Nope. Nope. “I should apologize, too. I’m sorry for barging in on you, I should’ve made sure.” 

“Apology accepted! Long forgotten!” Twisting the bed sheets, you wince. “Would you mind handing me my dress?” 

“Your um- your dress. Yes.” He picks up your piece of clothing that lies at the foot of the bed as he hands it to you, leaving enough space for you not to get too uncomfortable. Also, enough for him to remind himself to not do something he might regret. “Thank you,” you softly say. Heat rises up to your cheeks. “Could you please…” You spin a small finger as he chokes. Right, he yelps. He can hear the commotion you cause in an attempt to slip on your dress as fast as possibly. Tumbling, you stand up to grab your heels. “I’ll wait outside for you to change. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Skipping out, he doesn’t even have a chance to respond before the door slams shut. 

-

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me. How am I supposed to see him now and not bring this up?” 

Grabbing Pierre’s collar, you tug him closer, eyes burning with a subtle threat. “Listen here, old man. You won’t say a word if you know what is good for you.” Blue eyes go wide as he peeps over to Kika who only shrugs. 

“Not a word,” he confirms as you let go.

Dinner was…tense. But that was only between you and the Monegasque. 

“Steak,” you both say as the waiter nods. “You know what…I think I’ll just do a salad.” Charles clicks his tongue.

“You want the steak, so you should get it. I’ll get the salad.” 

“No, well, now I want the salad. Not the steak.”

“You were just drooling over the steak, just get it.”

You glare as you close your menu. “I want the salad.”

“Excuse them,” Kika apologizes as Pierre sits there in amusement, soaking in the show that sits right in front of them. 

“No problem,” the waiter beams. “Couple’s bicker all the time.”

“They’re not-”

“You get the steak. I’ll get the salad.”

“No, you get the steak and I’ll get th-”

“You do know we’re a restaurant and we’re not limited to one piece of meat, right? How about I put you both down for the steak?” Opening your mouth, the waiter smiles before hurrying off. “Be back in a jiffy!”

“I have a feeling she might spit in your food.” 

“Shut up, Pierre,” Kika hisses. “Though you should start agreeing on what dessert you guys might want if it takes you this long.”

After dinner you were ready to go back and knock out. Just forget about your humiliating day. And that would have been the case if it weren’t for a little someone who wanted to go-

“Golfing! We should go golfing!” The Frenchman grins. “It’ll be fun!”

“Honey, I don’t think they want to. How about we raincheck?” Kika pats his shoulder as she gives him a small peck. He groans.

“Another day, mate. I’m sure this pretty girl wants to get some sleep,” Charles laughs as he signals to where you yawn. This wakes you up though as you scowl.

“I don’t, actually. I wanna go.” Raising his brow he asks, Are you sure? If you’re tired that’s fine, we can go back. “You can go back to the hotel if you want, but I’m staying.” Grabbing Kika’s hand, you both strut away, already heading towards the black SUV. 

“What’s wrong with her?” he mutters as he runs his hands through his hair.

“I don’t know, man, what is wrong?”

Confusion crosses the green eyed boy's eyes as he tilts his head a bit. “You know something I don’t?”

“I mean I wouldn’t say it like that, but-”

“Hello? Are you guys coming or what?” The Portuguese yodels as she pokes her head out the window. Her eyes are sending a warning to her boyfriend. Patting Charles' shoulder, he runs towards the car. 

“Come one, C. It’ll be fun.”

-

It was not fun.

“Let me show you,” he offers when you swing the club for the 5th time, chipping grass and dirt along the way. You growl a low, It’s fine. I got it. He squeaks when you swing too far back and hit his shin. 

“Are you okay?” you whisper as he whines. I’m okay. Can I just show you? “Yes, please.” Standing behind you, he grabs your arms as he gives you advice and demonstrates with you. For a moment you stop listening but the playful grins that your friends wear is enough for you to pull away from his touch, so suddenly, he jumps back a bit. “I think I got it now. Thank you.”

“Very well then.” Making his way over to Kika and Pierre, they all stand with observing eyes. Standing still. Just waiting. Any minute now-

“Would you mind going further into the golf course to see where my ball lands?” You’re not quite sure why or who you’re asking, but as soon as Pierre agrees and starts to make his way over you shout out a quick, “Not you! Uhhh…Charles, could you do it pretty please?” His heart squeezes with your puppy eyes. Y-y-yeah, he mumbles as he jogs deeper into the open area, shooting you a thumbs up as you let out a breath of relief. 

“He won’t bite, you know that, right?” Kika giggles when you poke your tongue out. Turning your attention, you push your hips slightly back, knees slightly bent, too. Practicing a few swings, you narrow your eyes towards the flag that points out the cup. Licking your lips, you swing as you hear a quick click with the sudden contact. You can’t tell if it was good, but it looked good enough to you. “Did you guys see that?” Jumping up and down you run towards your best friend as you hug her as if you just won a Nobel Prize. 

“That was so good!” 

“I was just one with the ball–I felt it in my bones-”

The engine of the golf cart has you both spinning around to where you see Pierre driving to the middle of the field. You squint your eyes. “What is that?” Kika murmurs, grabbing your hands as she leans forwards as if that could help her see clearer. 

“Not sure. Is it a hill? It wasn’t there befo…” The figure suddenly angles themselves to their elbows. “Holy shit! It’s Charles!” Squealing, you rush to the second golf cart, immediately pressing on the gas as if your life depended on it. You’re forgetting me! Sharply pressing the brakes, Kika rushes in as she taps your thighs, signaling you to go. As soon as you make it there, you could tell; it’s bad. Blood oozes out of his nose as he swats his friends hand away when he presses tissues against his face. “Oh my God.” Kneeling down beside him, you cradle his face, gingerly.

“I’m okay,” he groans as he brushes his fingers against your hip. “It’s no big deal.”

Your eyes look almost as if you’ve gone crazy, when you shriek, “No big deal? This is–” Blood drips onto your hand as you grow a bit faint. “...not okay.”

“Maybe not now, but I will be-”

“Woah there,” Kika shrieks as your body goes limp. “She’s gone.”

“What?”

“Cool! I’ve never heard of a dead body on a golf course before!”

“She’s not dead, dickhead, she only fainted.” Kika rolls her eyes as she brushes your hair out of your face. You’re sprawled out on the grass, as if it was your wake. “Charles, quick. Try and wake her up.”

The Monegasque winces, rubbing his nose as he crawls his way over to you. “I…Umm…” Give her a big ‘ol kiss, Pierre hollers as Kika smacks his chest. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” He taps your cheek before rubbing a small circle. “This is getting scary - and dark. Can you hear meeee?” Groaning, you begin to rub your head and eyes as he comes to vision.

“Charles?”

He smiles. “Hey, there.” Small smile starts to make its way to your face before you deflate with fear. Looking down at you is Charles, but with dark red blood dripping all over you. Letting out a loud scream as you aim a quick punch. “Fuck me, not again!”

-

“Okay, good, alright. Right there.” Kika and Pierre huff as they drop you and Charles against the cool bed. It had taken lots of explaining to the country club that they weren’t in fact not trying to get away with murder, but much rather, just trying to bed good friends and drop you back at your shared hotel room. It was much harder dealing with the two of you who were completely out of it. 

“Kikaaaa,” you whine as you cling onto her arm. “This is sooo nice of youuu. I really appreciated it, I doooo.” You pat her cheek before dragging your hand all over her face as you giggle. She swats you away. Anytime honey, she responds. Charles groans.

“Piereeeee. This is sooo-”

“Yes! Nice of me? No problem, it’s been a long day and it is time for me and my beautiful lady to get some rest!” Tugging Kika away, they shout a quick goodbye before they exit. Tossing over to face you, he rubs your stomach. 

“How are you feeling?”

You shut your eyes. “Like hell.” He laughs as he sighs when he feels your hands slide on top of his. “What about you?”

“Like hell.” And you might be a tad bit delirious but the laugh that bubbles out of you is enough for him to forget his ringing nose. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Your laugh dies down as you roll over to him. “Even after I almost killed you twice today?” Small fingers softly tap against the dry blood on his nose. 

“Even after that, yes.”

-

The next few days leading up to the Austin GP you were able to manage pushing off any rigidness that you had placed between you and Charles. Kind of.

Psst. Where are you? Peeking your head behind a stack of soft tires, you shoot your hand out to haul Kika towards you. She yelps at the sudden surprise. What the fu- “I can’t do this anymore.” She quirks a brow.

“Now you’re just making this complicated on yourself because you want to.”

“What? No! He’s making it hard on me.”

Crossing her arms she asks, “And how is he making it hard on you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You want to stomp your feet in frustration but you stop yourself when a few engineers pass by, sharing a small greeting to you both. 

“He’s…too much. Have you seen him, come on, with that obnoxious cowboy hat? Or his cute little mustache?” Kika giggles at the reminder and shakes her head no.

“I have a handsome boyfriend,” she defends. You chuckle.

“Right. But…” Your mind stays put at the image of Charles and all the possibilities that lie within. It was all becoming too much, really. You clap your hands. “It’s okay! I can get over it.”

-

“You looked so good,” you moan around his cock. It’s a bit muffled but clear enough to have him groaning and rutting his hips harder. Choking, you squeeze your eyes shut as you grip onto his knees. 

He had thought about this- dreamt about this and every time he thought he would know how to handle it and act cool. But there was no way of acting put together when you’re kneeling in prayer. “Fuck.” With a dirty smile, you grin around his cock before pulling your lips back, twirling your tongue around his pink tip and sliding your warm mouth back down. Letting out a few shaky breaths he says, “Y-y-you need to p-pull away now if you don’t w-want me t-to-''

But you’re deepthroating him so good and swallowing, causing your throat to close around him and that has his voice hitching, cutting off as he lets out one last moan before finishing in your mouth. White cum leaks the corner of your lips before you pick it up with your finger and lick it once you pull away. You giggle.

Climbing onto his lap, you sweetly kiss his face as he smiles. Kissing his red nose, you ask, “Did you like it?” The way you sound, confident, but a bit unsure, is enough for him to kiss your plump lips as if this were the most important kiss of his life. Which to him, it was. 

“You’re amazing.” Blushing, you dig your face into his neck as you both sit there for a while longer. The room is quiet and calm as he falls into his own thoughts. Drawing shapes against your thigh, he clears his throat. “Why were you distancing yourself before?” He bites back a smile when he feels you lick his neck.

“I wasn’t pulling away…” His eyes twinkle in response. You sigh. “I was…embarrassed.” His face grows soft as he asks, Why? Looking down to where his fingers trace your lap, you start. “The first day at the hotel - when we got here - I came up with a dumb idea.” The way he’s looking at you has you nervously chuckling. “I was going to surprise you in the shower. That’s why I had stripped down and then you walked out and… I wanted to die.”

He’s laughing now as you smack his chest defensively. “I missed out on that? Noooo!” He wails as he throws his head back. The view takes you back to the first time he cooked for you and did the exact same thing. 

You can now confirm: he does close and throw his head back when he’s getting his cock sucked.

“You didn’t miss out on much,” you reassure him, biting down on your thumb, nervously, before letting go. He’s listening now, green eyes dedicated to you. “I’ve never…”

“Had sex?” His voice is pitched with shock as you shake your head.

“Dear God, no. That ship has sadly sailed, but…Never had sex with someone older than me.”

“I’m not that old,” he jokes. You narrow your eyes with humor.

“You’re not,” you agree, “But I’ve only been with guys my age. They never had much to offer, though.”

He hates the idea of you ever being with someone who wasn’t him, but he knows there is not much he can do. 

But prove he’s much better. 

He pecks your lips. “I’ve heard that can happen sometimes.” His voice is light, slightly stingy, and that makes you smile. “Been there too - if you can believe it. But we can take it slow. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”

And you might be eager and desperate for him, but you know it would be better to hold off and get more comfortable with the idea.

“Thank you.”

-

“How does this make any sense?”

Your eyes flick back and forth - from Xavi to Charles, from Charles to Xavi. Part of you was almost afraid to intervene into the heated conversation. 

“Yeah, we’ll bring that up to the FIA.” A heavy sigh is released as Xavi rubs his temples, eyes momentarily shut. “Let’s just stick to the bright side- we did our best.”

The Monegasque rolls his eyes, hands flinging up in response. “And yet it never seems like enough.” 

“Look the issue is always something we can fix-“

“That’s the same story I’ve been told time and time again! If it were fixed then we wouldn’t be dropping from P3 straight into a DQ.” The engineer huffs, eyes empty and tired - and while you completely understand where Charles was coming from, you felt bad.

“Charles, I think…” His cold gaze catches you off guard for a moment but quickly softens up with the sound of your voice. “...I mean I understand why you’re frustrated, but I’m sure he is too. Maybe you both should just take some time to cool down and when you’re ready, then you can sit back down to come up with a proper solution.” 

For a scary second he doesn’t say anything as you hear a low, grazie tesoro, from Xavi. You’re on edge but when he nods with a small smile, you let out a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding in. 

“Do you want to stay?” Hmm, you chirp, eyes attentive. Turning on his car, he begins to back out of the parking lot. “Here in Texas. For a while longer before we fly to Mexico. Kika and Pierre are going to and I thought you might want to as well-”

“You’re not needed in Mexico already?” He shakes his head. “In that case; yes.”

-

Pierre had planned a whole year's trip for one single day. And every single activity was a near death experience.

“Horseback riding.”

Sharing an excited squeal, you and Kika hop up and down as Charles finishes up a quick call. The morning had started early, per Pierre’ request, but no one had really complained up until that point.

“Danny Ric recommended this farm just an hour away, but you’re with an F1 driver, we’ll make it there in 10 minutes max.” 

“I’m driving,” the green eyed boy interrupts as he snatches the keys away from his best friend. “There’s no way we’ll be safe if you drive.” Sheepishly, Kika agrees. Pierre’ mouth hangs agape. Quickly, he takes the keys back.

“My agenda; I drive.”

-

“I can lose him! Just give me a minute!”

The drive had started out calm. Music was playing from your and Kika’ mixed playlist as you both chatted in the backseat. Charles was screeching every single second due to Pierre’s driving skills. It was great. 

“Amore, they have a horse that looks like an Oreo,” Pierres announces as Kika claps with delight. “Rented that one out just for you.” It was a sweet gesture, something that even had you swooning, and all would have been fine if you weren’t running a bit late. “As long as we’re there at 2pm.”

Biting down on your lip, Charles turns back to look at you. Raising up your phone you show him. 

1:20pm.

You were still 45 minutes away. There was no way. You’re about to bring it up until Charles silently hushes you. “What’s so important about a cookie looking horse?” he asks, slowly. Kika beams.

“I had one like that growing up. His name was Spot. Technically, it belonged to my grandparents but deep down we all knew it was mine. P, has been on a mission to find a clone of some sort. Kinda sweet.”

Pierre’s winks through the rear view mirror as he switches lanes. A tiny car honks as you flinch. Close one, he mutters. “And dare I say I found Spot’s twin. Reincarnation! Mon amour, you’re going to love him when we get there…”

1:25pm.

Eyes as wide as saucers, he steps on the gas so suddenly, it has you flying against the seat. You let out a scream - you think.  “Pourquoi ne m'as-tu pas dit l'heure?” Charles winces.

“You should have been checking the time yourself! You’re the one driving!”

“But you’re supposed to be my GPS!”

“Non, je ne suis pas!” 

The Frechman presses harder on the gas. You yelp. “Kiks, you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, don’t you dare forget it.” 

“No, you are one of the best friends I’ve ever ha- Ah!” The Portuguese clings onto the window in an attempt to keep straight when her boyfriend switches lanes harshly. “Pierre, it’s fine! I don’t want to see my dead horse’ twin that bad.” Swiftly, he turns around as he shakes his head. Charles curses as he reaches out to keep the wheel straight.

“Listen to me Kika; you are meeting that horse.”

“Oh. I don’t feel so good.” Feeling queasy, with all the commotion and awful driving skills, you let out a whimper as you hold your head. A worried Charles turns around to caress your knee. It’s okay, baby. Do you need anything?

“Pierre, seriously, stop the bloody car.” His tone is threatening, but this doesn’t seem to stop Pierre. 

“I’m sorry - I am - but we are making it there because we are making it there.” Kika is past asking and has skipped to praying in her native language, eyes squeezed shut. 

“It’s fine. I’ll be fi-”

You’re cut off by police sirens, red and blue light dancing through the windows. Your eyes grow wide as you and Charles shared a panicked look. “Fuck,” Pierre murmurs. “Alright, everyone hold on. I’m gonna step on the gas.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Charles spits out before flinging back against his seat, forced to pull away from you. You’re a mess. Pierre, Pierre, it’s not worth it to die young, you wail.

“We’re making it to that stupid horse!”

Weaving through lanes, all of you slide side to side in your seats. Pull over, a stern voice blares outside of the police car. Your stomach strings into nervous loops. 

“Pierre, pull over,” Kika finally tries as the situation grows more serious.

“I can lose him! Just give me a minute!”

Speeding is nothing new to the two Formula 1 drivers, but to you and your friend it was. “I’m too young!” Kika and you screech when Pierre does a sharp turn towards the exit. A breath of relief escapes Charles' lips when he notices the cop car had lost sight of them. 

Smoothly, Pierre pulls into a dusty parking lot. He grins. 

“Ta-da!”

-

“Sweetheart, did a horse already kick you?”

Icing his newly gifted black eye, Pierre mumbles a low; “Something like that.” 

Icing his newly gifted fist, Charles sarcastically replies; “Something like that.”

The little old lady smiles warmly before leading the group towards the barn. “We have many beauties for you to choose from. All friendly!”

Almost instantly, Kika spots the horse the group almost lost their lives over. “He’s beautiful!” Running over, she pets him as he licks her hand. Pierre discreetly snaps a few pictures. 

“That was really sweet,” you admire. Charles scoffs. Almost dying seems sweet to you? Giggling, you playfully smack his toned chest. “Well, no. But just how hard he tried to get her here…” Kika waves at you both as she climbs onto the tall horse. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Leading you further into the cabin, you both pet the row of horses. Behind you, Pierre yells out, Buttercup is a fan favorite! 

And so, you were introduced to Buttercup. Charles' heart did a double take when a bright smile formed itself onto your lips. You were an Angel on Earth.

After going over the basics, you’re able to take Buttercup on a quick gallop around the open field. Attentive, Charles follows by foot. “Are you sure you don’t want to get on a horsy?” 

“Once, when I was a little kid, I fell off one. I was lucky that it was just a pony, but I’ve been traumatized since.”

“Oh.” You try keeping a straight face but can’t help but start laughing. He frowns. “Sorry! I’m just imagining that.” Wheezing harder, you clutch your heart dramatically. He wishes to remember the sound of your laugh. 

“Sweetheart! Just letting you know that no candy should be near the horses! Wouldn’t want them acting up.”

Shooting a quick thumbs up, you nod. Peacefully, you continue laughing and learning more about Charles and you love it.

Strolling over, Pierre pats Charles shoulder as they whisper to each other for a while. Trotting away just a bit, you decide to give them a bit of privacy. A few seconds later, they share a bro hug. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid again,” you hear Charles warn as Pierre bobs his head. Got it.

“They have a cute little shop here so I went to go buy a few snacks, you guys want some?”

Opening a chocolate bar, he extends his arm out as a truce, brown chocolate glistening under the sun. Your stomach drops. 

“Pierre, you fucking di-” Buttercup rapidly spots the candy bar and begins to gallop towards the Monegasque and Frenchman with full speed. Get out of the way, you shriek out as they both make a run for the exit. 

“This place is lovely!” Kika hollers as she inches closer to the commotion. Lost, her gaze flickers to where Pierre and Charles jump over the fence, landing on mud, and you and Buttercup chasing after them. “Oh God, Pierre.”

-

“That’s the thing! You don’t think!”

The fight between Charles and Pierre has been going on for what seems like hours and you were starting to get tired of it. 

“Charles-”

He gently pushes your hands aside before glaring back at Pierre. “What would you have done if something had happened to her, huh? Oh, you would be a dead man-”

“I think he gets it now!” Tugging on his arm, you pull him towards you. “I’m fine. It was fun.” He looks at you skeptical as you let out a light laugh. “Okay, too soon. But seriously, let’s just forget about it! Nothing happened and we still have a full day ahead of us. Let’s not let it go to waste.”

-

“Dirt bike riding!”

“Are you sure?” Leaning against Charles, you massage your temples at the possibility. Given, it sounds like fun, but you really weren’t looking for a broken bone. 

“Always.”

“Be careful,” you say as you tap against Charles' helmet. Only a tiny part of you wanted to join, but decided not to last minute. Kika agreed to stay with you, but deep down you knew she was just as scared. 

Smacking your ass, you jump as he lets out a muffled laugh underneath the black helmet. “Wouldn’t want to die without fucking you.”

Blushing, you push him away. “Go already.” A loud laugh follows as he drifts away. The sight of him wearing all black has your head spinning. Sitting down on a small table, under the shade, you take a sip of Kika’s Coca-Cola. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome?”

Everything carries on smoothly. A few close calls, but safe nonetheless. “I didn’t know they were so good at this,” you ponder, gaze keeping up with the 26 year old. 

“Me either. Honestly - definitely - surprised.” A pink tint fans itself on her cheeks as Pierre bikes by. “I love it.”

“Get a room.” But you aren’t complaining either. This is definitely a sweet sight. Wanna try? Charles calls out. “No, thank you.”

Biking closer, he opens up his visor, green eyes shining through. “I’ll keep you safe,” he tries. You shake your head. “As if you’re my most prized possession. Newsflash: you are.” 

He’s subtle with it, but it’s enough for you to feel as if you’re floating. You just had to be. “Very sweet, but I’m okay.” Leaning close, you kiss his helmet before slamming it shut. 

“Suit yourself, chérie.” You feel as if you’re stumbling over yourself as you watch him glide away. You have to remind yourself that people are around and that there is no room for shenanigans. Dirt crunches underneath your feet as you twirl to face the Portuguese.

“I think I’m in love.” Fanning your face, you let out a breath. She chokes. 

“In lo- excuse me, what?” Shrugging your shoulders, you spin the yellow straw that dips inside your drink. 

“I said I think. Quit acting as if I just said my first words.” Grabbing you by your shoulders, she starts to shake you back and forth. Might as well be! There’s no way ‘you think’! When it comes to you, you always know. Her point has you thinking about your confession. Because she’s right.

You are in love.

What’s there not to love? He’s kind, caring, intelligent, funny, clumsy in a cute manner, he looks out for you (especially when Pierre is near the premises). If anything, it would be impossible not you. Looking up, you see him on the side of the dusty hill, chatting with what looks like to be fans. And he’s just so sweet with them, it only makes you more sure of your sudden knowledge. 

“He can’t know. Not yet.” 

The bike's loud engine is what snaps you out of your thoughts. Pierre waves as he follows after Charles. “That was awesome! Amour, did you see me-”  Amidst of his words, he didn’t pay much attention when he accidentally stepped on the pedal a tad bit too hard, causing him to glide closer to Charles’ motorbike. A loud clash follows as they skid on the dirt, dust causing them to be untraceable for a moment, only bickering coming through.

Hurriedly, you both run over as you wave your hand and cough. Slowly, the dirt settles down, allowing you to see Charles and Pierre on top of one another. They both groan in pain. Charles pushes the Frenchman off him.

“I should’ve known something had to happen.”

-

A few more ideas were thrown out by the blue eyed man but every single one got shut down. “Let’s just get something to eat,” Kika growls. Clicking your fingers, you point at her, agreeing.

And so you and your friends find yourselves in a small restaurant that looks straight out of a Western movie. “Pretty nice, I must admit,” you congratulate. Smirking, Pierre slaps the back of Charles’ head. See? A snarl is enough for him to make a run for it. Giggling, you tippy toe to kiss his cheek. “Does your boo boo still hurt, my poor baby?” Brushing your fingers against his thigh, he flinches.

“Yes, actually, it does. I hate bruises.” Snorting, you throw your head back. He drags you closer to his chest, making you trip over your cowboy boots that he just bought for you. “A kiss might make me forget about the pain though, little lady.” He pretends to tip an imaginary hat.

“Little lady?”

“Bonita? Linda?” Curiously, you quirk a brow. “Carlos…” he explains as you respond with an, Ohhh. Tapping his chest, you slide your fingers through his hair. 

“A kiss you say?”

He smiles. “Or something else, really.” Heat pools in between your legs as you try your best to suppress your moans. But the way he’s looking down at you has you almost running away. You kiss his cheek, lips lingering for a single moment. The hand that presses against his chest is able to identify the way his heart speeds up. 

“Better?”

“I was thinking more here,” he points to his lips, “But that was just as good.” Walking away, you start making your way to where Pierre and Kika sat.

“You never said where.” His eyes follow you, flickering down to your ass, Levi denim short pressed up against you. It should be illegal to look this good. 

“Ahem.” Pulling his attention away, he looks into Kika’s eyes, who scowls back up at him. Shyly, he takes a seat. 

Dinner flew by. Laughter and stories being heard by any bypasser, but it really didn’t matter to any of you. 

“I think his visor broke!” Pierre wheezes as he clings onto the table. Charles shoots a cold glare.

“You broke it with your foot when you kicked me.” This only seems to make his friend laugh harder. The corner of Charles’ mouth slightly lifts up. You continue talking about your day when an older man makes his way to your booth.

“You guys interested in dancing?”

“Hey, man, that’s my girlfriend,” Pierre responds as he looks up at the man. Who does he think he is? he mouths to the rest of you.

“Oh, I don’t mean it like that. Line dancing. Anyone who wants to join is welcome to.” Extending his hands towards Pierre, he introduces himself. “Ben. I’m the owner of the restaurant.” Pierre lets out a nervous laugh.

“Oh. My bad.” Turning to Kika he says, “You want to?” She doesn’t even bother looking at him as she smiles at the older man.

“Yes, of course! She pinches your hips, you yelp in surprise. “You in?” Tight lipped, you smile and nod. You both look over to the F1 drivers. Charles shakes his head.

“Count me out.” 

Pierre nods. “Yeah, me too.”

Sticking her tongue out, Kika grabs your hand. “Okay, losers.” Walking to the crowded dance floor, she jumps up and down. Her excitement eases you as you smile ear to ear. “You know how to line dance?” You nod.

“My grandpa taught me when I was 5.” Cackling, she high fives you as the music starts. You furrow your brows. “Country Girl?” Kika lets out a satisfied sigh..

“Ahhh. Luke Bryan at his finest.” Copying others steps, you both giggle as you stumble a bit at the beginning. Peeking over at the boys, she frowns. “They’re not even looking.” You wave her off.

“It doesn’t matter.” But you can tell she’s itching for a reaction from Pierre. “You flirt,” you tease as you slap her hip. She rolls her eyes, playfully. Pulling her closer, you swing your hands over her shoulders. She tilts her head in confusion. “God gave us hips and an ass for a reason.” Wickedly, she smiles as she lets loose.

Following the beat, you sway your hips before letting go of one another and spinning like the most seductive ballerinas that ever existed. Running a hand through your hair, you begin to drop to the floor, wide eyes staring up at your best friends who just laughs. Gliding back up, your hands dance across her legs. 

“Alright, quit it before I cheat on my boyfriend!” You let out a laugh. “And before Charles kills me.”

“And why would he do that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, tossing her locks over her shoulder. “He looks like wants to kill me and fuck you.” Shocked at her words, you turn to the table and sure enough, Charles’ bruning gaze is directed only towards you. As if no one else existed. Meanwhile, Pierre's mouth is hung wide open. You clear your throat.

“Look at Pierre,” you mumble, trying to get the image of Charles out of your mind. She blushes, sending a kiss over to her boyfriend who smiles suggestively. You shudder. “Gross.” She smacks your cheek softly.

The song ends and you almost wish you could stay dancing forever so there would be no room to see Charles after that. Standing up, he pulls your chair out as you quietly thank him. “Shy now?” His voice is strained, as if he’s trying his best to simply just talk to you, but also filled with tease. You hum.

“Nope.” Your breath hitches when his hand slides onto your thighs. He clicks his tongue. 

“I think you might be.” His hand slides swiftly in between your legs. “Just a tiny bit.”

“I-I’m not-”

“Hey,” a voice kills the moment. Charles' attention flickers to the man that stands in front of you. You smile. “Oh, I saw you dancing…”

“And?” Charles cuts him off, but the guy only ignores him.

“Jaden.” He extends his hand out for you to shake. Hesitantly, you do. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” 

Stuttering you say, “U-um. I-I…” Looking over at Kika, you beg for help as she raises her brows. No thank you, she mouths. Pierre watched it all unfold as if this were a movie. Awkwardly, you clear your throat. “I’m seeing someone actually, sorry.”

The blond clicks his tongue, running his hand through his jaw. “That’s the thing. He doesn’t have to know. He won’t mind.” Charles can’t help but scoff and stand up to his full height. 

“Oh, I think he’ll mind.” It’s almost as if Jaden knew this would tick Charles off as he casually smirked. 

“It’s you,” he says, eyes full of judgment. “I had someone else in mind.”

“Yeah, I don’t care what that might be, but you should leave.” Jaden’s eyes meet yours as he takes a seat on the now open chair.

“Merde,” Pierre whispers.

“What do you say we get out of here? I know a hotel nearby.” 

Frowning at his words you say, “What’s wrong with you?” You’re caught by surprise when Charles reaches down to drag him by the collar. 

“Jaden, is it? I think it’s best if you leave. She’s not interested.”

“Dude, don’t take it personal. Just a quick taste and she’s all yo-” He doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence when the Monegasque sends a hard punch. He groans, crashing on top of the table. 

“Don’t you dare talk about her at all,” he sourly threatens. Turning back to where you stand with Kika and Pierre, he’s about to check up on you, but that’s before he’s yanked back and hit straight in the ribs. Huffing, Jaden stands over him as he grins.

“Too hard on you?”

Standing up, Charles rolls up his sleeves. “Nope.” Which is how he landed himself in a fiery fight with some wannabe GoldenDoodle. 

“Pierre! Do something!” 

“Y-you’re right!” Jumping in, he tries to pry Charles off as they tumble around. Get off me, Charles mutters. The Frenchman immediately lets go. “H-he said to get off hi-”

“Yeah, I heard.” Desperately, you try yelling for the Monegasque, but it’s almost as if he can’t hear you. Ben, the owner, runs over.

“Darling, if they don’t stop I’m going to have to call the cops.”

“No!” But the moment you see dark blood flowing out of Charles’ lip, you panic. “Fine! Yes! Call them, but hurry, please!”

After what seems like an eternity, when really it was only 5 minutes, the cops show up. “Let go and put your hands where I can see them!” This seems to get their attention as they harshly let go of one another. You let out a breath of relief, Kika hugging your arm. Cuffing them up, they start pulling them towards the exit, boos filling up the small restaurant. Running after them, you tap on the cops shoulder.

“Let him go, please! He was only defending me!” You’re close to crying and this makes Charles feel guilty. It’s okay. I’ll be fine! Just meet me at the police station. Getting closer, Pierre tries to drag you away as you cry. The policeman stops for a moment. 

“You…”  Pierre looked around confused before pointing at himself. Me? Calling for backup, a new officer comes and cuffs the Frenchman. 

“Woah, woah, hey there. What’s this for?” Kika asks, jogging in order to keep up. “Why is he being arrested?”

The grouchy man scowls. “Speeding on a freeway. Sound familiar?”

“It’s alright, Kika! Just meet us in the police station!”

-

“He was driving fast to fulfill my wish, he was only being sweet! And I know he was acting irresponsible, but I swear he won’t do it again.”

Nodding, you push her aside. “And Charles was just protecting me from that dick! Please, he won’t do i-it a-a-again…”

The little old lady behind the desk with a bored expression hums. It’s quiet for a few minutes before she stamps the two papers right in front of her. You both sigh. “Alright. I’ll let them go. But only because I like you both.”

Running up to the guys, you throw yourself on the Monegasque as he lets out a groan in pain. Cradling his face, you press kiss after kiss. “I'm” - kiss - “so” - kiss - “glad” - kiss - “you’re” - kiss - “out.” Smiling, he tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. 

“This is the land of the free, right?” Your glare up at him, biting back a smile. Not funny at all, you pout. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Walking up to you both, holding hands, Pierre smiles. “Want me to drive us back to the hotel?”

-

Flinging onto the bed, you let out a few kick-spasms. “Remind me to never agree to anything Pierre says. Ever.”

Lying down next to you, he closes his eyes. “I know I give him so much crap for it, but he means no harm.” Rolling over to your side, you furrow your brows. “Never again,” he confirms. Sitting up right, you wait for him to do the same. Leaning against the headboard, he smiles softly.

“Thank you,” you begin, “For standing up for me.”

“I would do it over and over again with no hesitation.” Letting out a shaky breath, he scoots you to straddle his lap. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

And maybe it is the heat of the moment, but soon you find yourself leaning down to kiss up. His lips are warm, the way you remember them. Your lips are home, the way he remembers them. Sliding his shirt off, you halt when you see the bruises that cover him. You let out a slight wince. “You know what? Another day when you feel better-” He pushes your hips against his as your eyes roll back with anticipation.

“I feel better already.” And then he’s kissing you again, mind trying to keep up with the way your soft hands slide up and down his chest. Long fingers pinch your shirt, tugging it off. His eyes train themselves on your tits. “You’re a fucking dream.”

Unclasping your bra, his mouth immediately wraps around your left nipple. Whining, you brush your hands against his curls. The way his tongue swirls around your sensitive bud has you pushing his face deeper to your chest. He doesn’t seem to mind, free hand going in to squeeze your other boob.

Grabbing his face, you force him to face you, both your chests heaving up and down. 

“Fuck me. Please.”

Groaning, he throws his head back. Not wasting anymore time, he switches positions, sprawling you against the white bed sheets. He takes his time taking your shorts and panties off before slipping off his jeans and boxers.

The sight of his dick has you nervous for a split second, but that's cut short when you feel his fingers sliding against your walls. You squirm. “That’s it, amour. Let loose.” His large frame towers over you as he spreads your legs out even more. Almost like an instinct, your legs wrap around his waist. He kisses your forehead. “You need to let me know if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Pinky promise, just…please.”

That's all it takes. Thrusting into you, you both let out dirty, sinful moans. It takes all of him to not snap his hips, just the thought alone being too much. 

“You’re so fucking worth it. Worth it all.” Clinging onto his arm, your mind is hazy with the sudden stretch. He’s big and you feel him already brushing against your g-spot. You wonder if you’ll be able to take him.

“Ch-Charles, please move,” you beg, pupils dilated. He starts off slow and you’re almost embarrassed with the way it has you reaching out for him. Begging for more. “F-feel s-s-so good inside of me.”

The way you clench around his cock has him choking on his saliva. “Yeah? Well you feel so good wrapped around me. Warm and-” The sound of his voice has your walls closing around him, even tighter. “...unreal. You can’t be real.”

He lost with the way you squirm underneath him, twisting, almost pulling away, but he keeps a firm grip. “Ch- oh God.” His speed picks up as he fucks your harder. Past boyfriends only put their needs first, but you can tell he was trying to get you to finish first. The realization made your head spin. A tight feeling enters your bottom belly.

Boys? Waste of time. 

Men? He was everything.

Rubbing your clit, he admires you. Close? You open your eyes, soft pants being released, the sound of the headboard rutting against the white wall. “I-I don’t know…” He pinches his brows. You let out a shaky breath. “How should an orgasm feel?”

His eyes widen, hips continue their abuse. “You’ve never had an orgasm?” Bashfully, you let go of his burning gaze, watery eyes focused on his pulsing muscles. 

“Boys…” Letting out a cry, your bite down on his bicep with the sudden brush against your g-spot. He hisses. Your mouth is open with an O as you drool all over him. You whine when he places his hand over your lower belly. You should feel some pressure here.

His voice is deep, raw and so mature. He sounds as fucked out as you feel. “Do you feel something like that, chérie?” Furiously, you nod. “Words. Use your words.”

“I-I-I do.” Those two words have him almost seeing the future. They are slow and weak, but also sure and his. In this exact moment, he swore he would have you repeating those same words, only in a different location. Teary eyes look up at him. “I feel you everywhere.” 

With that you let out a scratched moan as you cum around his cock. The way you arch and squeeze around him is what makes him finish right after. Catching your breath, you look up at him with a twinkle in your eyes. He kisses your bruised out lips.

“You’re fucking perfect.”

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻 | joel miller x reader x emmett

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | the last thing you wanted to do was make emmett jealous, or question your loyalty to him; but as it turns out, he may be a little more supportive than you expected when he catches you looking at joel miller.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 7.1k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - 18+ only (threesome, established relationship, sharing/hotwife kink, daddy kink, oral m and f receiving, anal and DP, creampie, light choking, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, some very gentle/mild degradation, tons and tons of praise), implied age gap (not specified, obviously reader is an adult), takes place in the last of us universe but pretty much porn without plot lol so don't overthink it

In the last year of traveling with Emmett, you’d mostly avoided the QZs.  He said that the people there were cheats and liars at best— and that’s to say nothing of the corrupt military leaders that actually ran the place.  However, desperation puts people into positions they never expected to be. 

After all, you would’ve never imagined being with a man like him, though in this case you meant it in a good way— that you never thought someone as brave and resourceful as him would want somebody like you.

But, that said, you made yourself useful when you could.  The best thing you could offer was your medical knowledge, and you were always the one tending to Emmett after injuries or illness.  Still, he promised that he loved you for who you were, not what you could do for him.  He was shockingly gentle, and passionate, especially for someone who had been forced to be rather ruthless to survive in this new world.

So, while you had been avoiding the quarantined areas and sticking to abandoned strips of forest and city, a lack of food out there forced you to venture to Boston— or, what was left of it.

Fortunately, you'd found more hospitality here than you expected.  Maybe it was just pity— and wanting some more of that ammo Emmett had sold him— but a man named Joel Miller had given you a place to stay and helped you earn some rations here so you could finally eat.  He reminded you of Emmett in some ways: stoic, hardworking, and generous beneath that hardened exterior.  But Emmett had become much more sensitive and open with you in your time together, and Joel was all but a stranger.  Sometimes he was so stern that he almost seemed irritated with you, but he kept letting you and Emmett stay, so he must not have been too annoyed by you.

And, you helped him how you could— like when he was in yours and Emmett’s room, sitting in the chair and talking to Emmett about something to do with tomorrow’s open jobs, and you noticed a cut across his palm.

“I-I can help with that,” you offered softly, motioning to the injury.  “Do you want me to bandage it for you?”

“It’s not that bad,” Joel shook his head.

“It’s easier to clean it now than worry about an infection later,” you reminded him.

Though he seemed a little tense, glancing at Emmett for a moment, he relented with a nod.  You smiled lightly as you stepped forward and knelt by Joel’s feet, picking up his hand and examining the cut.

Once you figured what it needed, you quickly hopped up to rifle through your bag, bringing back a disinfectant wipe and a roll of gauze.  Holding his hand open— and feeling a little flustered from touching his warm, rough skin— you carefully wiped up the cut.  “Does it hurt at all?” you asked him.

“Not too bad,” he replied lowly.

“You should see Emmett when I’ve gotta wrap him up,” you giggled, “he always acts like what I’m doing hurts more than when he actually got the injury in the first place.”

“Hey,” Emmett warned you in a stern voice, but you smiled up at Joel who returned with a small smirk.

“Alright, all better,” you hummed as you finished bandaging Joel.  “Let me know if it’s hurting you too much, that’s a bad sign.  Don’t just ignore it and act tough, okay?”

Joel seemed a little uncomfortable— if not sort of amused by— taking orders from you, but he nodded.  “I’ll let y’all get to bed now,” he decided as he stood up.  “Sleep well.  Lot of work to be done in the morning.”

“G’night,” Emmett offered him with a nod.

You felt a little strange, him standing up fully while you were still on your knees on the floor.  “Goodnight, Joel,” you said, your voice sounding sweeter and girlier than you intended.  Your face felt warm— you worried Emmett had noticed the change in your voice, too, but would he think much of it if he had?  

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about it that night, simply pulling you close when you got into bed, burying his face in your neck.

But the next night, that was a different story.  You weren’t actually going to sleep yet, even though it was late enough for it— he’d already changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants, while you were still in your dress, but he’d laid back on top of the sheets and patted the bed, silently asking you to join him.  You smiled and obeyed, of course, leaving the lamp on as you slipped in by his side.

Emmett held you gently, rubbing your back as you laid your head on his chest.  “You’re not too tired, are you?” he asked quietly.

For what? you wondered, but just shook your head instead.

“We can stay up a little longer,” he decided.  “Didn’t get a chance to hold you all day.”

“Yeah,” you sighed wistfully, nuzzling in more as you squeezed his torso a bit.

“Or talk to you much,” he continued.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” you asked, looking up at him from your head’s happy place on his shoulder.

“Just something I noticed,” Emmett replied, looking back at you sweetly as he brushed your hair aside with his fingers.  "I think you've got a crush on Joel."

You froze, face getting warm in an instant.  "I-I only want you, Emmett, I swear— you know I would never—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed as he chuckled a little, "it's okay, baby.  I'm not angry with you… you're not doin' anything wrong."

"Really?" you asked nervously, and he nodded.  "I thought you might be jealous…"

He shook his head and laughed a little.

"I-I just think he's handsome," you explained, "and sort of nice— but that's really it!"

"It's alright, baby," he purred, "cause you know something?  I was talking to him earlier today, and he wants you too."

Your sat up and your eyes went wide as you tried to imagine that conversation.  You could hardly believe that that was true, let alone that Joel has admitted it to Emmett… or had Joel approached Emmett about it, asking for a night with you?  Oh god, your head already hurt trying to wrap itself around this…

"I know how hard it is to keep a naughty little thing like you satisfied," Emmett explained with a smirk, sitting up with you and speaking softly beside your ear.  “I'm willing to bring in a little… outside help."

Just then, the door opened slowly and Joel stepped inside.  You watched him, totally unsure how to feel, as he shut the door behind himself, and then his eyes met yours.

"C'mere," Emmett offered to Joel, patting the bed beside you two.  "No need to be shy, Miller."

You watched as Joel took a seat on the bed, and you looked at Emmett as you lowered your voice.  "You don't have to do this for me," you promised him softly.  "You know I love you— I only need you—"

"It's okay," he soothed as he pet your face.  "I told you, I'm not angry.  I want you to do this."

"You… want me to?"

"If you want it," Emmett replied.

You shivered as Joel leaned forward a bit, reaching out to gently rub up and down your leg.  "What do you think, princess?" he asked softly.  "Don't worry, you're not gonna hurt my feelings if you say you don't wanna—"

"I want to," you admitted quickly, afraid to lose your courage if you waited any longer to say it.

Both men smiled at you as you looked back and forth between them; Joel's warm brown eyes against Emmett's steely blue ones… they were so similar, and so opposite, in so many impossible ways.

Without saying anything, Joel suddenly lifted your chin and guided you into a kiss.

You felt strange kissing someone other than Emmett, something you hadn't done in quite some time.  Joel's lips weren't as soft as Emmett's, and his kiss wasn't as gentle; he moved his hand to the back of your neck to hold you close, gently pressing his tongue into your mouth.  It wasn't too aggressive or anything, but it was certainly quite forward.  Emmett's hands were still on you, gently rubbing your back, and you reached back to find and hold one just as your other arm wrapped around Joel's broad shoulders.

Joel made you gasp by breaking away to kiss at your neck instead; you squeezed Emmett's hand slightly.  "Fuck, she sounds so pretty," Joel noticed when you moaned at his teeth teasing your pulse.

"Yeah," Emmett agreed.  "She can get loud, too, so let's just hope she doesn't wake anybody up…"

Joel pulled your hand away from Emmett's and guided it to the bulge in his jeans; you sighed as you felt it, a hot feeling stirring in your chest.  "See how you got me all worked up already?" he scolded you playfully.  "C'mon and take it out for me."

Your hands were shaking more than you realized when you brought them to unfasten his belt… it felt new, and exhilarating, and a little scary as well, to be with someone new after so long.  But you remembered when it was new with Emmett and it felt like this, exciting and weird and wonderful all at the same time.  But you'd known Emmett longer before anything happened between you— you'd only met Joel a few days ago.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose when you reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his erection.  It was so hot to the touch, you were worried your fingers felt cold to him, but he didn't seem to mind much.  You shuddered as you released it from the fabric, your mouth falling slack and your hand instinctively beginning to stroke it gently.

Joel's cock wasn't as long as Emmett's, but it was thicker, with a slight curve to one side.  Regardless of exactly what it looked like, you were just amazed to see and stroke another cock but Emmett's— it had been so long, and you hadn't been with all too many people before Emmett anyways.

"Show him what you can do, baby," Emmett encouraged in a low voice, and you nodded as you leaned down to capture Joel's cock between your lips. 

He hummed as you licked and sucked the tip, swirling your tongue over the head.  But he groaned aloud when you dipped lower and took as much as you could into your mouth, letting the tip of his cock bump into the back of your throat.

Then you set your pace, hollowing your cheeks and slowly moving up and down on his length.  Your jaw ached slightly already and you'd only just started.

You felt Joel's hand on the back of your head, not pushing you down but just guiding you in your movements.

"Mm," Joel praised with a grunt.  "Your girl's got a sweet fuckin' mouth, Emmett…"

"Yeah," he agreed, "and she loves using it— gets her so wet, feel it."

You whimpered slightly as Joel reached back over you and pulled up your dress, slipping a hand inside your panties.  His fingers curled through your lips, even toying with your swollen clit for a moment, and you moaned around the thick cock in your mouth.

"Damn," Joel chuckled, "she's soaked."

You broke away from Joel and turned around, looking at Emmett expectantly as you sat on the bed.  "Can I suck you too?  Please?"

Joel chuckled a little as Emmett nodded, letting you pull his pajama pants down as his hard cock bounced free.  It was nice to get back to what you knew for a moment, and you didn't hesitate at all to take hold of him and lick a long stripe up his shaft.

Joel took the opportunity while you were facing away from him to toss up your dress and pull your panties down; he purred at the way the fabric stuck to your pussy, peeling off slowly with all the wetness there.  "Fuckin' gorgeous," Joel groaned as he got a good look at it.  

Two thick fingers rubbed over your clit until your toes curled; putting your head down in Emmett's lap to suck him sort of forced your hips up, nearly at eye-level with Joel, and feeling him explore you so gently made you feel exposed in the best way.

He slid one finger into your hole, just one, and you clenched down on him.  "Damn," Joel groaned.  "I don't know how you find the energy to do anything but fill this pretty little pussy of hers, Emmett."

But Emmett wasn't really paying attention to him— he was watching you with heavy eyes and a slack mouth, petting your hair as you bobbed your head on his cock.

"Just like that," Emmett praised you quietly.  When you moaned around him in response, it turned into a muffled cry as Joel suddenly took his finger out of you and replaced it with his tongue.  His hands held your ass and kept you spread wide for him, burying his face in your pussy and tasting everything his tongue could reach… which was a lot.  Your whole body quivered when he licked a long stripe up from the base of your clit all the way up, higher and higher, even running over that hole as you shuddered.  

Your moans vibrated through Emmett's cock and his hand in your hair tightened into a fist and tugged on you a bit.  "Fuck," Joel moaned against your soaking folds, "tastes even better than it looks."

"Feels even better than it tastes," Emmett promised with a smile, though he snarled as he pulled your head off of him by your hair and guided you into a rough, dominating kiss.  He all but threw you back towards Joel, and you were sort of dazed and moving on instinct as Joel turned you around to face him.

But as you leaned down to suck Joel's cock again, he stopped you with a hand around your neck.  "Taste yourself first," he ordered before he kissed you, diving his tongue right into your open mouth as you whined at the tangy flavor of your arousal coating his lips.  

He pulled you back from the kiss with a growl, holding your hair and examining your face— you must have looked fucked out already, panting through your mouth and looking at him as you waited for your next instruction.

“Was she always this desperate?” Joel asked Emmett, though he was still looking at you. “Or did you train her?”

“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Emmett replied with a light chuckle.

He shoved your head back down into his lap, guiding his cock to your waiting lips and groaning when you swallowed it down.  “Good fucking girl,” he praised.  “So fuckin’ dirty— damn, that tongue…”

You gagged harder on Joel’s cock when you felt Emmett toying with your clit, teasing you with slow and delicate circles that made your toes curl.  “Wanna fuck her?” Emmett asked Joel simply; your hole pulsed in anticipation.  The way they talked over you, like you weren’t even there, was sort of irritating: but it made you so desperate, and you couldn’t even figure out why.

Joel just laughed.  “Are you kidding?” he wondered.

It was Emmett’s hand that pulled you off of Joel’s cock, but Joel grabbed your neck— not too tightly, just enough to make you let a whimper out of your open mouth— and flared his nostrils as he stared closely at your face.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he ordered firmly, and you nodded right away.  They both let you go and you took the position, feeling a little shy again suddenly— like you had any right to be shy now.  You faced Emmett, your hands on either side of his lap as he sat up on the bed, and he reached up to hold your face as you heard Joel get up and kneel behind you.

He teased you by running the head through your folds a few times, your lip catching between your teeth as the tip bumped against your swollen clit.  Emmett studied your face closely, watching your mouth go slack and your brows knit together as Joel pushed just barely inside you.

And then you cried out, far too loud, because he shoved the rest of the way in at once.  "Shit," Joel hissed, "fuckin' tight little thing.  Fuck."

You could feel his gaze on your hole, no doubt watching himself split you open so wide, when his hands spread your ass open again for a better view.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” Joel awarded it with a sigh.  “Fuck, feel how good you fuckin’ take that?  Feel how easy this big cock slides right into ya?  Such a sweet little girl…”

Easy was one way to describe it— and yes, you were wet enough that he hardly had any resistance— but it felt like too much to really be easy.  You fluttered your eyes open, not even noticing that you’d shut them, and found Emmett’s gaze still on you.  How was it possible that he was looking at you with so much pride in his eyes?  You bit your lip and returned his stare, whimpering each time Joel thrusted roughly into you.  

"How's it feel, baby?" Emmett asked you as he gently stroked your cheek.

You choked a little, not sure you could find the words for it.  "Different," you managed to blurt out, and both men chuckled a little.

"Yeah, bet it is different," Joel agreed, "don't think I'm gonna be as sweet with'ya as your old man here usually is."

Well, fair enough: Joel wasn't in love with you, so why should he treat you the same?  Actually, your thighs shook a little as you thought about that… Joel just wanted to use you, fuck you like a toy and toss you back to Emmett when he was done.  It should've been demeaning, but it made your back arch a little deeper.

"Yeah, fuck," Joel praised, "she likes that.  Wants me to fuck her harder, I can tell."

“Then do it,” Emmett instructed him.

Joel gripped your hips tightly and slammed into you, making you choke on your own cry.  “F-fuck—” you stammered, suddenly gripping Emmett’s shoulders for stability.

“God,” Joel choked behind you; you could feel the bandage you’d given him as his hands held onto your hips, keeping you steady so he could pump into you as hard and fast as he liked.

You whined and dropped your head on Emmett’s shoulder, hearing him gently soothe you as each thrust rocked you forward into him.  “Takin’ it so well,” he praised softly, “that’s my girl…”

Emmett started to push your dress down your arms and chest, exposing your tits for his big hands to rub slowly; Joel reached around and felt them too— and four hands on you felt like more than you could keep track of.  A hand running up your thighs, squeezing your ass, teasing your tits, even wrapping around your throat and threatening to tighten… you were overwhelmed, in the best way.

"God, she's so perfect," Joel breathed.  "Can't believe you let me borrow her."

"Just don't come inside her," Emmett instructed, "that's just for me."

"Fuck, I don't mind," Joel grunted, "think I'll like painting that pretty face…"

“She swallows, too,” Emmett smiled, “if you like that.”

“Like it?  Fuck,” Joel laughed, “that’s fucking hot.”

“E-Emmett,” you whimpered in protest, “I never… I’ve never done that for anybody but you…”

“Well, it’s not so different for anybody else,” Emmett assured you with a chuckle.  “You’ll swallow his come if I tell you to, won’tcha?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Good girl.”

That was all you really wanted— to be good for him.  And you felt your chest fill with pride knowing he was happy with you now, even if you’d never expected this to make him happy.  He could be very protective of you, and you assumed he would never want another man to lay a hand on you— he’d killed men for less, actually.  But you realized that there was a massive difference: those men had threatened to hurt you, had scared you, had tried to take you from him.  Joel was the first man other than Emmett that you’d trusted, let alone shown any interest in.  Emmett was too busy fighting off creeps to mention that he didn’t actually mind good guys getting a chance with you, apparently.

Joel kneaded a handful of your ass roughly, and you whimpered when you felt one of his fingertips start to rub gently against your other hole.  “What about this hole?” he asked with a groan.  “This just for you, too?”

Emmett grinned a bit.  “She’s only done that a few times… what do you think, baby, wanna let Joel try your ass?”

It was already quite an ordeal to get Emmett to fit in there, and you whined just imagining Joel trying to fit that thick cock in your ass— “Oh my god, she just got so fucking wet,” Joel noticed.  Clearly, imagining it was having some effect on you.  “Think she wants it— don’t ya, sweet girl?”

Though your cheeks burned with shame, you nodded, and both men chuckled darkly.  “Warm her up first,” Emmett suggested.

“Of course,” Joel agreed, “wouldn’t wanna break your toy.”

You moaned just from him saying that, before he’d even started to gently press his finger inside you.  He spit right down onto it as he slid the digit inside, making you clench around him— both ways.  He hummed lowly, twisting and curling the finger into you, still fucking your pussy (though slower than before, thank god).

You gasped as a second finger carefully slid in, almost pushing you too far and making you wince slightly— but Emmett soothed you and kissed the side of your face, rubbing your back to help keep you relaxed.  “You can take it,” Emmett promised, “be my good girl, okay?  Let him get you ready.”

You nodded and clung tighter to Emmett, moaning when Joel twisted his fingers around and even curled them a bit inside you.  “Not too much, is it?” Joel wondered when you whined loudly.

“No, she’s tougher than she looks,” Emmett answered— you sort of thought that question was for you, but you were too desperate to answer properly anyways.

Joel could pump those fingers in and out of you now, picking up the pace slightly to match the way he thrust his cock into your cunt, but when he tried to spread them a little wider he didn’t have much luck.  “Still too tight, I think,” Joel noticed with a laugh.  “Y’sure she can get stretched out enough for it?”

“Yeah,” Emmett promised, “I can help, hold on—”

He brought two fingers to your open mouth; you sucked on them instinctively, shutting your eyes and moving your head forward to swallow them as deep as you could.  What Joel said before suddenly made sense— he really did have you trained.

You bobbed and suckled on Emmett’s long fingers, hearing him whisper his praises to you before he suddenly pulled them out— your open mouth chased after them for a second, and Joel seemed to notice with a small, condescending laugh— and reached over your back, pushing the slick fingers into your hole right beside Joel’s.

“Fuck!” you yelped at the feeling, legs shaking as you realized you’d never been this full: a cock and four fingers, it was more than you’d ever imagined.

Joel groaned a little, picking up the pace of his thrusts into your pussy again, and you did your best to breathe steady as those fingers pumped in and out of you.  You couldn’t deny the way it turned you on— none of you could, you could hear it as Joel fucked you slowly.  “She’s fuckin’ dripping, Emmett,” Joel noticed with a sigh, “she really likes this little ass played with, huh?”

Emmett laughed and nodded in agreement.  “She likes doing what she’s told,” he clarified.

“Such a good little slut,” Joel praised, and you whimpered before Emmett kissed you again.

They continued that way until you worried you’d start begging for a cock in your ass if they made you wait anymore— thankfully, they didn’t make you embarrass yourself like that, Emmett felt with his fingers and saw in your eyes that you were ready.  Pulling his fingers out of you, he glanced at Joel behind you: “Go ahead,” he offered simply.

Joel’s fingers left your ass, too, and you felt empty there but different— when his cock slipped from your cunt, you gasped a little at having nothing inside you for the first time in a while, and you glanced back at him.  “Yeah,” Joel encouraged, “keep lookin’ back at me while I put my cock in your ass.”

You felt a little awkward doing that, but you did it anyways, biting your lip as he met your gaze and lined up his thick head with your stretched ass.  He was still soaked from being in your pussy, and your ass was pretty much dripping with spit now, so he didn’t have too much trouble pushing into your puckered hole— but it was still tight, and you still winced (but kept your eyes on him, of course).

Even with all that prep, you shuddered and whined as Joel slowly slid into your ass— he savored every inch, licking his lips and groaning as he stretched you wider and wider.  He seemed to just get thicker, even at the very base of him, and your eyes rolled back when he was seated in you all the way.  And then he punched his hips just that little bit more, apparently intent on burying himself in you as far as humanly possible; you gasped and hugged Emmett tighter, turning your head towards him again but shutting your eyes tight from the sting of the stretch.  

“God fucking damn,” Joel moaned, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips, clearly trying to control himself.  “Fuck, Emmett, you’ve really got yourself such a perfect little fucktoy— where’d you find her?”

Emmett smiled wide, stroking your hair and looking at your face— painted with filthy pleasure— tenderly.  “She found me,” he answered.  “Still got no fuckin’ idea how I got so lucky.”

Joel started to move, making you tighten your hands into weak fists, and set a careful pace that gave you some time to adjust… even if not quite as much as you would’ve wanted.

A sudden, sharp thrust nearly knocked you forward— thankfully Emmett was there to catch you— and you moaned loudly.  Emmett laid down slightly, letting you lay on top of him and hide your face in his chest.  “That’s my girl,” he praised quietly.

As Joel’s movements sped up a little more, he sighed, seeming to find a comfortable pace (for him, at least) as you forced yourself not to tense up: it didn’t hurt, but it was certainly an intense feeling, especially when you felt Joel’s heavy balls slap against your dripping pussy.

"This'll be better than coming on your face," Joel grinned.  "Filling up this tight ass, fuck, you're so dirty, baby…"

You felt someone move your hips down a bit, changing the angle of it all, but you were too lost in it to even know who it was.  Emmett kissed your neck, teeth teasing your pulse, and you whined— you would beg him to bite you and leave a mark that everyone could see, if you could speak at all right now.

Your legs ended up straddling Emmett’s lap, and you gasped when you felt his cock press against your pussy— you'd been too distracted to even notice him taking it out— and he cooed at you sweetly.  "You can take both, right?" he asked quietly.  "You've always got room for me, don't you?"

Though you were still intimidated by the idea, you nodded as you bit your lip.

"That's my girl," Emmett praised, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock.

You almost screamed at the feeling of being so full, digging your fingers into Emmett’s shoulders.  He looked up at you with eager eyes, watching you struggle to take them both— but you eventually relaxed enough to sink down and fit them both to the hilt.

“Good fucking girl,” Joel praised with a groan, holding on tight to your hips as he started to move again slowly— as for Emmett, his hands moved from your waist to your head to guide you into a sloppy, needy kiss.

Your moans were loud yet weak, your shaky hands clutching at Emmett desperately as they both pumped into you.  Joel seemed almost overwhelmed by it, too, leaning down over you, growling and biting at your neck and shoulder. 

“F-fuck, dunno how long I can last like this,” Joel admitted, “so fucking tight…”

You jumped slightly when one of Joel's rough hands reached around your hips and slid down to your clit, rubbing at the bud until you jerked back from the sudden intense sensation.

"Just wanna feel you come first, princess," he explained with a purr.

“A-ah, fuck,” you whimpered, shaking all over as you tried to process all that you were feeling.  They moved you around how they wanted you, and at some point Emmett was sitting up and holding you in his lap while Joel kept thrusting into your ass from behind while holding your shoulder— how were you supposed to keep track of all the anatomy of this, while you had two big cocks stretching you open and Joel’s rough, experienced fingers on your clit.

Emmett moaned against your skin as he kept sucking on your neck, meanwhile Joel was speaking gruffly by your ear, sending chills up your spine.  “Can you come, princess?” he asked darkly.  “‘Round both our cocks?”

“Yes,” you admitted in a gasp, “fuck— Emmett, can I come?”

He smiled against your neck; “Of course, babydoll,” he breathed.  “Let’s show Joel how much you love bein’ fucked like a whore.”

You wrapped your arms around Emmett’s neck, dropping your head limply back on Joel’s shoulder as the feeling washed over you: you tightened up everywhere, inside and out, and they both groaned as they watched you give in to ecstasy.  You weren’t even sure whose hands were where anymore, but they were everywhere, and even through your exhaustion you felt desperation guide your hips to move on their own— chasing an even higher pleasure.

“Fuck,” Joel grunted as he watched you go, his own thrusts getting faster and rougher.  “Fuck, that’s so cute.”

You didn’t expect him to describe you like that in a time like this, and you whimpered as your walls flexed again.  You could tell Joel was getting a little desperate himself, that bandaged hand giving your clit a break and holding your hip tightly instead.  “Come in her ass, Joel,” Emmett ordered with a sigh, staring at your face with heavy eyes, “she’s ready.”

He did it pretty much instantly, groaning lowly and tossing his head back with a sharp breath in through his teeth; you felt him flexing, and it stretched your tighter hole even just that much more.  You whined softly at the feeling, hearing distantly little praises from Emmett, and finally Joel finished and pulled out of you with a little hiss.

It was less of a relief than you expected— your ass was still stretched and sore, and Emmett was still so deep inside you… and then, a moment later, you felt that hot trickle out of your used hole.  You felt filthy with Joel’s come running out of you like that, tickling your inner thigh as it dribbled down— but the way Emmett was looking at you seemed to remove any sense of shame you had left.

"God, look how beautiful you are," Emmett grunted as he guided you to move faster in his lap, "men just can't help it with you, can they?  Bet every guy in this town wants you, bet they're all thinking about having you to themselves— but you're mine, huh?  My girl?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, I'm yours— all yours, Emmett, always—"

"Gonna show Joel whose girl you are," Emmett promised with a growl.  "Gonna get this pussy nice and full how you like it."

"Yes," you said again, a needy groan this time— the tip of his cock was hitting so deep inside you that you could hardly breathe, yet you only wanted more.  "Yes, please, please— come in me, daddy."

"Damn," Joel laughed, "she is dirty."

Emmett grinned.  "Only gets that way when she's real desperate.  Needs her daddy's come so bad…"

“Please,” you begged shakily, feeling him pull you closer and start to buck his hips up into you faster; he was breathing roughly, quickly, and you knew that he was getting close, but he had a habit of holding back until he absolutely couldn’t take it anymore just so he could watch you like this for as long as possible.  

Apparently unsatisfied with the speed and control he could reach with you on top of him, Emmett pushed you back down onto the bed, holding your legs and fucking you hard and fast— you cried out, arching your back as his hands slid up to hold your waist.

You gasped loudly when Joel unexpectedly leaned down and sucked on one of your tits; your back arched even further towards it, and you heard him moan against your skin as his tongue circled the hardened bud.  Emmett's mouth suddenly found the other one, without his pace slowing down at all, and you could've screamed right then.  You hadn't realized how sensitive they would be, and never in your life had you had both sucked on at once— it was so overwhelming, it was making jolts of white hot pleasure burst inside you, and fuck Emmett’s cock was filling you just right, hitting that perfect spot—

"I'm coming," you sobbed, "f-fuck, daddy, I'm coming—"

Emmett groaned loudly, his mouth falling slack around your breast as hot breaths fanned your skin.  You felt him starting to flex inside you, and you moaned louder knowing he was filling you so deep.  His grunts were in time with his deep, hard thrusts into you, and you went numb and tingly all over as the orgasm seemed to drain everything out of you.

Finally, he slowed to a stop, moving up to kiss you slow and sweet— both of you breathing heavily against each other, your shaky fingers reaching up to hold his face and run through his hair.

He broke away and sat up with a sigh; you wanted to kiss him longer, but you were too exhausted to even complain, simply relaxing against the bed and almost wincing when he pulled out of your sore cunt.

Emmett sat back and tugged your limp form up a bit, cradling you as he held your back to his chest.  “Oh, look at that,” he whispered just beside your ear, reaching down to rub your thigh, “all’a my come running out of you… both holes nice and full just how you need… so fuckin’ pretty, baby, my pretty little girl…”

You just whimpered sleepily, soaking in the warmth of Emmett’s embrace.

"Why don't you taste her now, Joel?" Emmett suddenly offered him with a smirk.  

Before you could process that idea, Emmett was holding your legs open while Joel dived down between them.  You whimpered as Joel licked up through your folds, your whole body getting hot at the thought of Joel tasting you and Emmett.  He really didn't mind doing that with another man's come?  The idea that he might just be that insatiable for you…

He suddenly latched on to your clit and sucked hard, making you yelp and buck your hips— but Joel and Emmett were both holding onto you tight, keeping you steady as your body shook uncontrollably.

"Oh, that's it's," Emmett praised, "let him taste you, baby— let Joel lick that pretty pussy, okay?"

"F-fuck— s'really sensitive—" you choked out.

Emmett held you tighter, both hands groping your breasts and his fingertips gently toying with your nipples.  “Bein’ so good for me,” he praised in a low, rough voice.  “So fuckin’ pretty when you’re getting your pussy ate, babydoll— never get to appreciate it ‘cause I’m too busy doin’ it.  But you look so fuckin’ cute like this…”

Your back arched, pushing your shoulders against Emmett's chest as he held you, and he trailed gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. 

"Gonna come, huh?" he noticed, pinching your nipples harder until you whined.  "It's okay, baby, let Joel make you come.  Just one more and you can rest…"

“C-can’t,” you choked, “can’t come anymore—”

“Shh, you can,” Emmett promised.  “You can show Joel how good you are for me, huh?  You can come when I tell you to.”

“Fuck,” you sobbed, grabbing onto Emmett’s hand tightly— though your other hand gripped a handful of Joel’s salt-and-pepper hair, making him look up at you with those dark brown eyes…

“Mhm, you can do it,” Emmett continued, squeezing your hand in encouragement.  “Put your tongue inside her, Joel.”

You shuddered and quaked when Joel obeyed, the most filthy sounds filling the room while Joel lapped and sucked at your leaking pussy.  Emmett’s hand— the one you weren’t holding onto for dear life— groped your tits roughly, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you buck your hips against Joel’s face, but Joel still had that iron-tight grip on your hips to keep you where he needed you.

Joel was moaning lowly against your skin, focusing his tongue attention back on your clit— from teasing little circles around it to hard, rough licks right over it.  This time, when he went back to sucking on the nub harder than ever, you knew you couldn’t hold it back anymore.  “Fuck, Joel!” you screamed, making him groan darkly again.  “I’m gonna come!”

Emmett dragged his teeth over the shell of your ear, laughing softly yet wickedly.  “You’re sayin’ his name now?” he noticed.  “You’re not coming for him, baby, you’re coming for me.  Because I told you to.  Yes?”

“Yes, yes,” you promised, chanting it mindlessly.  “Yours, Emmett— fuck, I’m yours, you know I am.  Only yours.”

His hand moved from your breast to your face, turning it far enough to look at him— those eyes were boring into you, and you whimpered with your lip between your teeth as you hoped you hadn’t disappointed him.  “Say it again,” he demanded.

“Yours,” you repeated as you looked into his eyes— even though your imminent orgasm made it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.  “I’m yours, daddy.”

He grabbed your jaw and kissed you hard, his tongue keeping your mouth wide open; he swallowed every moan as you came, moaning himself like he could taste your pleasure in the kiss, holding your hand tighter than ever. 

Joel kept eating you out even when your whole body was shaking, even when your weak little hand was trying to push his head away— he only stopped when Emmett’s hand joined yours, just one touch and Joel lifted his head and sighed.

Emmett guided your hand back up to his face, and you held it (with what little strength you had) as you kept kissing him… though the kiss changed, it went from rough and hungry to soft and slow and gentle.

He stopped kissing you just enough to speak, his thumb petting your cheek so you would open your eyes.  “You did so good for me, babydoll,” he cooed under his breath.

Knowing you had finally done everything he wanted, you melted limply into Emmett’s arms, who chuckled a little at your exhaustion.  

“Looks like you really wore her out, Miller.”

“You did, too,” Joel returned.  “Besides, at that age, I’m guessin’ she’ll be raring to go again by the end of the hour.”

Emmett snorted.  “I can get her begging in five minutes,” he countered.

“Please— m’too tired,” you whimpered, cuddling up tighter against Emmett— but his hand was already snaking up your thigh, teasing further between your legs.

“Too tired, huh?” he taunted quietly, petting closer to your sore pussy until your legs spread naturally to let him touch where he wanted.  “Good girl.”

Two fingers delicately teased you, circling around your clit but never quit reaching it— until you were rocking your hips up to try to find some attention in the right spot.

When he did touch your clit, ever so gently, you shivered and mumbled his name; your eyes still closed, you hid your face in his neck and began to shamelessly rock against his fingers.  He teased your opening, making it apparent how wet you still were, but never dipped inside no matter how hard you tried to tempt him to.

“Please,” you whispered, too desperate to feel guilty for it at all, “Emmett, I need—”

“Jesus,” Joel laughed, “didn’t take long at all, did it?”

“Nope,” Emmett agreed.

“So fuckin’ needy,” Joel groaned.

“Yep,” Emmett responded simply again.  “Tell us what you need, babydoll…”

“I…I need…” you mumbled, face getting warm.  “Need to be full…”

“With what?” Joel pressed.

“Um…” you stalled, nervous to admit it but knowing they wouldn’t rest until you did.  “With a… a cock.”

Emmett snorted.  “Any cock?” he wondered.

“W-well, I figured one of you two—”

They both laughed a little, and you felt silly but your walls tightened against themselves.  “We’re not young like you, sweetpea— it’s not that easy,” Joel explained.  “Gonna need a little more patience…”

“But— but you got me all worked up!” you whined.  “You did that on purpose…”

“Yeah,” Emmett admitted with a purr, “yeah, baby, I did that on purpose.”

You pouted a bit.  “You’re mean sometimes…”

“Mhm,” he agreed with a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Joel.  “How long will it take you to get hard again?”

“Not that long,” Joel answered, “if she puts that mouth to good use.”

Emmett helped you sit up, patting your back encouragingly.  “Go ahead, baby, you know what to do…”

As you crawled towards where Joel knelt on the bed, still totally dazed and exhausted, you realized that tonight was far from over— and that tonight may not be all that Emmett had in store for you.

#joel miller smut #emmett a quiet place smut #cillian murphy smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #cillian murphy x reader #joel miller x reader #emmett a quiet place x reader #WELP. this is filthy.

[rafebaby]

confessing to rafe the dirty things you wanna do with him https://www.tumblr.com/rafebaby/741882748366667776/drunkshyreader-x-fratrafe-what-could-go

absolutely yess ❤️‍🔥 fratboy!rafe x drunk!shy!reader

*soft smut warning*

for months you've been quietly crushing on him from a distance, being in some of the same classes, you'd just stare and stare and stare at him, accepting that you were never the kind of girl he'd be interested in.

now you're out on this schooltrip and you've been absolutely peer pressured into drinking way too much. As a result you've been postponing getting back to your room and are the last left in the common room of the facility, laying down on the comfy lounge set and feeling yourself nodding off, head pounding.

that is until you feel a someone nudging your shoulder,

"hey (y/n), it's time to get back to your room."

you open your eyes slowly and turn your head to the person waking you up. even in blurred vision, rafe caneron is unmistakably handsome. His figure tall against the light. It makes you smile.

"rafeee!" You chant slowly but with unmistakable excitement, before you try to get yourself up but start to feel like the room is spinning and fall face forward.

"Wow.. easy there!" He laughs uncomfortably, as he pushes you back calmly to sit you straight up against the back of the couch, getting your face out of his crotch area.

"Sorry!" You say sweetly, straining your eyes against the light, looking up at him.

He clears his throat before he repeats himself with: "it's time to get back to your room", as he looks around the room to check if there are any people around.

"yes, I know, but it's just so hard to get there." you whine

He laughs again, amused to see you, the quiet type of girl who was always anxiously looking around her, in such an unfiltered state.

"don't laugh at me with that laugh, rafe!" you command him in the cutest way he's every heard a command be.

He laughs again. The beauty of it destroying your inside.

"It is not fair!" you complain.

He stops laughing and tilts his head slightly to one side.

"What's not fair?" he asks with a questioning smile on his face.

"You!" you bring out.

"What about me?" He checks his surroundings again calmly, smirk on his lips caused by your blunt honesty, before looking at you awaiting your response impatiently.

"Your face!"

"My face?"

"Yeah!"

"Why?"

"You know!"

"I don't!" He'd lie visibly, mocking you.

"You do! Don't lie to me! You know it so good! And it doesn't even matter cuz you hear it every day!"

"what makes you assume that?"

"how could I not?"

His gaze that is now expectant and slightly more serious, is his only reply.

And you slowly realize that you are actually confessing your crush on him, trying not to show any expression as you panic inside.

There's a panicked pause.

"I-I do not know, maybe because I hear all the other girls constantly talking about you, I honestly really do not know," you ramble, abruptly standing up from your seated position, right up against his chest.

"oh, sorry", you awkwardly apologize as you bring up you hands trying to push yourself from him but are nothing against his stark figure.

He grabs your wrists with a soft, yet intimidating grip.

"all the other girls, huh?"

"yeah!"

"yeah?"

His face hovers above yours.

Luckily your face is looking straight into his chest so he can't see how red your cheeks have become.

"Not you?" He questions.

You're heart is beating out of your chest.

"You don't like my face, (y/n)?"

He's playing your heart strings. At this point, he's not concerned with the environment anymore. You've got him hardening in his pants with your flustered, innocent demeanor and your soft breasts pressing against him.

"No, it's not that, it's-"

"So you do like my face?"

You hum in agreement, pushing Rafe over the edge and causing him to lose any remaining morals.

"You like other things too?" He can not help but ask as his breath deepens. He's presence growing more heavy.

You are put in a corner. By Rafe Cameron. Hottest man you've ever come across, but dark in his ways.

Yet you're panties are suddenly soaked. The alcohol coarsing through your veins making you stupid.

Rafe Cameron is a criminal, a druggie and an entitled, rich kid with tendencies of aggression... But he is also tall and built and handsome as hell, and oh god, he smells so nice...

You simply can't convince yourself not to give in to him, so you hum again.

"What other things?"

You take your time, actually really thinking about it, resisting to act against it.

"Your neck." But ending up being bluntly honest again.

He remains silent.

One of his hands moving from around your wrists to feeling your tits.

Your breath catches heavily.

Now you can't stop.

"Your shoulders and arms"

He pinches your nipple. You catch your breath in pleasure.

"Your hands." You go on, lost in the moment. "Your fingers too."

He grunts. His hand moving down from your chest to your waist, down your stomach and ending between your legs. So lucky your wearing one of your preppy short skirts. Bare legs. Ring finger pressing on your most sensitive spot. The only thing between you and him, the thin fabric of your panties. You whimper softly.

He lowers his head to your ear: "Do you think about them sometimes, when you're alone?"

You're back to humming.

"What do you imagine them doing? He asks, as he starts rubbing his fingers back and forth.

"This." Breath hitching again. Heat rising through your body.

"And?"

"Inside."

"Inside?

"Me."

____

I don't know... Something like that 😇

Thank you for your contribution. I loved it 🎀

XxX rafebaby

#rafe x you #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe blurb #rafe imagine #obx x reader #fratboy!rafe

[oizysian]

My Wanda | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Dark!Mafia Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Warnings: brief mention of murder, anal play, tears, cold Wanda Word Count: 2k Genre: smut Summary: Y/N just wants Wanda’s love again.

AN: I’m not very good writing dark characters so she’s not very dark, I’m sorry! I tried my best.

• Kinktober Masterlist •

I knew the Maximoff twins long before Wanda was in any sort of position of power. I knew them back when they were working for whoever would give them a chance. He was a thief and she was a conman - and they were both exceptional at what they did.

When they started their own mini empire, working for themselves and making their own connections, another budding family in New York caught wind and tried to put an end to them and their ambitious new family.

Pietro, Wanda’s twin brother was killed one night while he was out on a job - a job that Wanda later found out was a hit and Pietro had been set up. I comforted her the night she found out about her brother, her only living blood in this world. That’s when she became serious about the business. She changed that night, her eyes not holding the same spark as they used to, her smile never really reaching her eyes anymore.

She took solace in me, and slowly I fell in love with her. We became lovers, but nothing more on Wanda’s end, as she felt it was too dangerous to get close to anyone ever again.

She quickly found respect once she found out who killed her brother, and took her time killing them in return, torturing them and giving them the pain she had felt tenfold.

She came home that night covered in blood and that was the first time I had seen her cry since Pietro’s death. I washed her as she sobbed, mourning her brother and her innocence.

She had two men that would do anything for her, that would lay down and die for her if she so asked them to. Their names were Dimitri and Leo, two boys she had known in the orphanage back in Sokovia and took under her wing when she and Pietro started their own family. They helped her murder the man that killed her brother and they stayed by her side, no matter what.

Dimitri and Leo were loyal, like guard dogs, and she made sure they were also loyal to me. I felt uncomfortable having one, or both of them, following me as I went shopping or if I just went out for a walk, but Wanda demanded it. She wouldn’t allow someone else to be taken from her.

Even though she wouldn’t commit to me, she would never look at another person the way she looked at me. I knew she loved me, but she was afraid, and I loved her enough to know that and be patient with her.

But the more power she gained, the more hardened she became. I had to remind myself constantly that she loved me, even when she fucked me. She became rough with me, almost callous, using my body simply for her own pleasure.

“My beautiful malyshka,” she purred as she thrusted her strap deeper into my mouth. “You take my cock so well.”

I held back tears, bobbing my head up and down her long, thick shaft. She had my hair wrapped in her fist as she pulled me down into her length. I nearly gagged as I took it to the hilt, doing anything and everything to please her.

I knew she got off on the power she had over me, and to be honest, I also got off on the immense amount of power she had. To an extent, I enjoyed being used by her, but afterwards I just wanted to be treated sweetly, kindly, and with love.

She pulled me off of her cock, my spit trailing from my tongue to the tip, my eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tilted my head up to look at her.

She was completely naked in front of me, save for the strap secured tightly around her hips, and I was mesmerized by the sight of her.

Her brown locks fell past her shoulders, barely brushing along the top of her perfect breasts, her thick lips parted ever so slightly, her green eyes, deep and dark, stared down at me, and her hands, adorned with silver rings, gripped at me as she helped me up from my kneeling position.

“Detka,” she whispered as she ran her hands along my hips, my skin forming goosebumps at her touch. “You know how hard work has been lately.” I nodded, knowing she had stayed up late nights trying to solve problems or help people instead of sleeping. “I need to just … use you. Okay? Just for tonight.”

My eyes were round like saucers as she turned me around, my back pressed against her front, her cock pushing into my ass and her lips on my neck. I almost gave in immediately at the feel of her against me, holding me against her and her teeth gently digging into my sensitive flesh.

I let out a moan as she pushed us towards the bed, my hands going out to catch myself as we landed on the soft mattress, her weight pressing me down.

Her hips moved against my own and I gripped at the sheets below me, my body trembling with need. She raised herself up off of me and spread my cheeks, letting the silicone dick slip between them as she rutted against me.

“W-Wanda,” I whimpered softly, turning my head to look at her. “What -”

“Shh, malyshka, shh.” I trusted her, but sometimes she was unpredictable and that made me nervous. “I’m gonna take good care of you.”

My heart fluttered in my chest at her words as she thrust herself against me, her fingers digging into my hips. She pulled me up to meet her thrusts and I pushed myself up on my elbows so I could grind my hips into hers.

“Oh, malyshka,” she cooed, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

I bit my lip as she slid the cock down between my legs, letting the tip hit my clit.

I let out a whimpering cry as she slid into me, my cunt milking her desperately as she began fucking me. I could feel her eyes burning into me, watching me as I took every inch of her.

“You’re perfect - fuck - look at that pussy.”

“Wanda …” I moaned, blushing furiously when I realized she was admiring me so intimately.

The squelching sound of my pussy taking her strap was loud in the quiet room, the only other sound was the squeaking of the bed as she pounded into me.

She slapped my ass roughly and I pressed my face into the bed sheets, stifling my cries as she continued to spank me.

“I want to hear you,” she said, her accent thick. “I want to hear you crying for me.”

She smacked me again and I jerked, my hands balled up into fists to try and control my emotions.

“Did you hear me?” Her hand came down on my ass hard and I cried out, my pussy throbbing and my body aching.

“Yes, ma’am!” I cried, my tears falling onto the sheets below me.

“Again.” She demanded with another slap.

“Yes, ma’am!”

She admired my reddened cheeks, smiling as she heard me crying softly beneath her. She knew I loved it; I loved being treated like this.

She pulled out of me, leaving me wanting as she flipped me over onto my back. I hissed as my ass met the cool bed sheets and she hummed at the sound. She took hold of the cock and slapped it against my aching cunt, my whole body jerking towards her at the feel.

“So sensitive. Are you close, detka?”

I nodded and she smiled down at me, reaching up to pinch one of my nipples between her talented fingers.

I cried out softly, my hands on either side of my head, knowing very well that she loved when I showed my submission to her like that. I wouldn’t touch her or myself unless I had her permission to.

She tugged and twisted my nipple until it was red with abuse, then brought her head down and sucked the other one into her mouth, her teeth scraping along my hardened bud roughly.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer to release with everything she did to me. If only she would touch my pussy …

She bit down into my nipple and I cried out, my body pressing up into hers. She lifted her head up, a string of saliva hanging from her lips, and smiled at me.

“We need to get these beautiful nipples pierced.” She brought her hand up to my wet breast and slapped it. “Imagine how sensitive you’ll be then.”

I shuddered, my mind beginning to get fuzzy at her words. I’d let her do whatever she wanted to me. She dressed me, she fed me, she fucked me, I was hers to do with as she pleased.

She licked her lips and propped herself up, gripping the cock between her legs and rubbing it along my puffy slit, my wetness spreading all along my thighs.

“What a mess you made.” She hummed softly. “I’ll have to clean you up when I’m done with you.”

I could feel my legs trembling as she slid the cock towards my hole, slight panic setting in when I realized she intended to fuck my ass.

“Relax,” she said as she inched it in, my whole body tensing as she forced herself into my ass. “Relax.”

“W-Wanda,” I whimpered. “I can’t …”

“You will.” She grunted as she continued to slide her slippery cock inside of me.

It felt like fire as she slid, at least half of it, in and out of my ass. I grabbed at the sheets, my jaw falling slack as it started to feel somewhat good. It still hurt, but Wanda managed to make anything feel pleasurable after a while.

She reached her free hand down to play with my clit and my eyes fell shut at the feel, my climax approaching rapidly.

“I’m gonna cum inside your ass.” She groaned, her hips jerking as her hand moved to the base of the cock, ready to squeeze the balls to squirt her cum into me.

I came at her words, at her touch, at the feel of her inside me, and suddenly she let the cock spurt its cum into me, heightening my high. I cried out softly, my hips rising to meet her thrusts as she fucked the cum into my ass.

She leaned down towards me, wrapping her free hand around my throat and looked into my eyes as she continued to fuck me. She squeezed slightly and I couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of my airway being constricted. If she killed me now, I wouldn’t mind. I would still love her more than words could ever say.

Her hand slid from the cock to my clit and I tensed underneath her, my whole body humming with arousal.

“Give me one more, malyshka, just one more.”

I felt myself cumming again, white hot pleasure washing over me as I clenched around nothing.

“God, I wish I had a cock so I could feel this tight pussy squeeze the cum right out of me.”

I whimpered softly as two of her fingers slid into me, feeling my walls clench around her.

“Yes, just like that,” she mused softly, thrusting her fingers into me gently. “So fucking tight.”

“Wanda,” I whispered. “Kiss me.”

She looked into my eyes and for a brief moment I could see her love for me in them, but then they darkened and she pulled away from me.

“Get cleaned up and get dressed.” She said as she stood from the bed, unhooking the strap from around her hips. “I’ve got a meeting in an hour and I need you to stay out of sight.”

I sighed, rubbing my face with my hands as I held back tears. She could fuck me like she hated me, but she couldn’t even show me that she loved me in private.

“Do you understand?” She asked and I nodded.

“Yes.” I whispered sadly.

She loved me, but she couldn’t be in love with me. She could be sweet and gentle with me sometimes, but showing any affection was off limits. Was this how it truly had to be?

I missed the days when she used to kiss me, when she used to be loving and tender with me. I miss my Wanda.

•

@natashaswife4125 @poison-blackheart @aemilia19 @claxre-bear @dorabledewdroop

#oizysian’s kinktober #wanda maximoff fanfiction #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #kinktober

[strawberrysturniolo]

I genuinely want a Matt or Chris with someone older fic. Like a well done, met at work/on set… they need to impress her because she’s older and she’s just trying not to flirt back but totally is flirting … but needs to be secretive because it could cost her a job.

But he’s just so obsessed with her in the best way and his brothers can tell even though he won’t admit it

someone older

summary: chris reaches out to a new photographer in hopes of taking Fresh Love to the next level, but they find their attraction to each other too difficult to hide

part two

I’ve been in LA pursuing photography for a few years now. Coming out of college with my dream in the back of my head only made me hungry for that spot in this career field. It’s hard to be taken seriously sometimes, but I’m grateful for the opportunities LA has brought me, along with the clients who are just as invested in their careers, and are in a position to want to have me there to take them to the next level.

That’s exactly how I was approached by Chris Sturniolo, YouTuber and entrepreneur. I scrolled through my Instagram DM’s one day, checking the requests to go through any work opportunities I needed to work out. That’s when I stumbled upon a request from Chris, explaining his desperation as he tries to expand his clothing brand, Fresh Love. His message expanded on the fact that he wants to take things to the next level, reaching higher heights and satisfying his goals the way he hasn’t been able to in the past. 

“I need a better photographer,” he said. “And you have exactly what I need.” 

Count me in.

The money he was offering was another good reason for me to say yes, but I was more drawn into the fact that he models most of his own clothing. It’s easier for me to do a shoot with him considering it’s his brand and he knows what he wants. We won’t have to worry about his visions not coming to life as clearly through models who are just there to get their money from Chris, rather than someone who actually cares about the brand's success. 

We had been messaging back and forth over Instagram, working out times that would be best along with a location. I invited Chris over to my apartment, where a room was set with studio lights and backdrops to satisfy the shoot he was looking to complete.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled as he carried a box of Fresh Love gear into the room. 

“Cool right,” I smiled, positioning my camera in the center of the room.

He gazed at the backdrops – one plain white, one with oranges covering it, and one with scattered hearts, all of which matched some scheme of his brand. 

“This is amazing,” he added. “Even better than what you sketched out.”

“It was a pretty simple idea, just had to be executed right,” I shrug, not wanting to take too much credit for a simple job.

I let himself get situated in the room, grabbing a few different items from the upcoming drop and letting him get comfortable. 

Upon receiving his message request and working out a time for us to have this photoshoot, I did find myself watching a few of his YouTube videos to get a scope of his personality. I had never heard of this kid before. I wanted to make sure some creep wasn’t going to come to my apartment. Unfortunately, that has happened in this industry. 

I noticed how talkative and chirpy he was in these videos, but now that he was in my home, it was like something changed. He was suddenly quiet and closed off, almost like he was feeling shy. The last thing we needed for this shoot was him feeling uncomfortable. There was no way any of these photos would come out alright if that were the case. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offer. “I have some water, soda, iced tea…”

He nods, his focus on sorting through his things. “A soda would be good, thanks.”

I left the room and let him get situated while I got him something to drink. I had to admit, this kid was cute. I was only a few years older than him, but there was something about the fact that he was so driven in his career to pursue this project that I found myself attracted to. At 25, it’s safe to say most guys don’t think like that, but somehow at 20 he has things figured out for himself. 

I came back with a drink for him, noticing that he had changed his shirt into one of the upcoming drops. “Oh, I like that a lot!”

He looks down at his shirt, smiling back up at me. “Thanks! I suck at drawing, so I have to be really detailed when I try to pitch ideas to my creative team. Luckily we’ve got a good crew there so it isn’t too hard.”

I nod as I listen to him, finding myself fascinated. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m gonna have you stand in the middle of the backdrop, right where that X is. I’m gonna take a few test shots, so don’t worry about posing or anything. I’m just checking the lighting and the angle.”

He listens closely to my instruction, following just as I said. He pulls at his clothing a few times, trying to let himself be comfortable. Then, he looks down at the X, then back up at me. It’s like his entire demeanor changed. There was an entire switch in him. He looks up at me with these… dead eyes. Staring into the lense of the camera in a way that has me sucking in a breath. 

Jesus Christ. 

I clear my throat. “Yeah… just… keep moving around a little. I’m still doing some test shots but don’t stand too still. I need to see if we need more lighting in certain angles.”

“I got you,” he nods, now swaying his body around a little bit as he tries different angles for me. He takes instruction well, making this a much easier process than most. Not to mention he’s nice to look at. 

“Alright,” I stand straight again. “We got our lighting and everything settled. Is there anything you want me to take control of or do you want to be in charge here? It won’t offend me if you want to have more creative control since this is your brand after all.”

“I have a few ideas,” he says. “But once I get those shots I want, you’re free to do whatever you think looks good from your side of things. I really appreciate this by the way.”

“Of course,” I smile at how sweet he’s being, truly grateful for me taking time out of my day for him even though this is my job. He’s paying well too, so I can’t complain too much. 

Chris relays some of his ideas to me, taking a few shots then checking behind the camera to look at the photos so far. He smiles as his vision comes to life, thanking me over and over again for today.

He stands shoulder to shoulder to me, and I have to keep myself focused. “I like this one here,” I point out a shot of him with a pair of sunglasses on, a playful smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah, that one’s sick,” he agrees before heading back to help me switch out the backdrops. 

Somehow along the way we find ourselves talking about my career, mostly with Chris wondering how I got to LA and what drew me to photography. The conversation continues through the next set of photos until we can’t stop talking and it starts interrupting our shoot. 

“You want to take a little break?” I suggest. “We can order some food and talk while we look over the pictures so far? See what you like and what you don’t so we can make the final shots right.”

He almost looks shocked that I would ask him that. “Yeah, that sounds really good actually.”

I laugh at his reaction. “What’s that face for?”

“I usually don’t get asked if I want a break. It’s just… go go go until the day is over. This is nice.”

“Well, if you want to do more shoots with me… you know my rates,” I tease. 

He follows me to my living room where we order some food and set up my laptop, exporting the photos. I delete some of the blurry ones, and others where the lighting is too crazy for the clothing to be seen. After the poor photos are disposed, we start taking a closer look at the ones that might make the cut.

“I like this one a lot,” I point out, zooming in on certain elements of the picture. “The pose is really good, but the look on your face sells it. You’re a natural at this, you know?”

His cheeks turn a pink color. “Thank you.”

“I’m serious!” I continue. “Something special about this is also how you model your own clothes, and if anyone else does, it’s friends and family. People like that. You have a unique creative mind. This thing is gonna go places, Chris.” 

He smiles at me, a cheesy, dorky smile that I can’t help but smile back at. 

“You make it easy,” he praises me instead. “You’re great at this but I’ve never felt so comfortable with a photographer. Plus, you’re nice to look at… so I guess that keeps me wanting to stare at the camera… or what’s behind it, I guess.” 

There it is.

I knew I wasn’t going crazy. I saw the way he was looking at me, and this just confirms it. 

“You’re sweet, Chris.”

He gives me a soft, tight lipped smile before turning back to the computer to take a closer look at the photos. “You know, I was wondering if you wanted to try a few pieces on and take a few pictures in them? I also have a polaroid camera we can do a few with. Or maybe some together would be good?” 

I smile at his suggestion, playing into it. “You’re suggesting this after I just praised you for doing this on your own?” 

He shrugs, a bit of confidence washing over him. “Some of these pieces would really suit you, and you’re too pretty to be hidden behind the camera.”

“Okay,” I nod. “I’m in.” 

An hour passes, which soon turns into two. We spent the time talking about ourselves while we ate, learning more about each other and our careers. Despite Chris being this funny, loud character in his YouTube videos, it’s obvious that he’s extremely smart as a businessman. He knows what he wants, and he’s going to make sure he gets it. 

We head back into my studio room, setting things up again. 

“Try this shirt on,” he says, holding a shirt out to me.

“Are you sure?” I ask, not wanting to interfere with his creative ideas. 

“Absolutely.”

I take the shirt into my hands, pulling off the one I’m wearing without a care considering I have a tank top on underneath. Chris watches every movement, waiting for me to put his shirt on instead. 

“It looks good,” he nods, licking his lips before standing behind the camera. “Go ahead and stand on the X like I did. Give me some… over the shoulder looks.”

I smile at his attempts at conducting this photoshoot. He sounds adorable, but it’s also hot knowing he has his business brain going. I do as he says, looking over my shoulder with a certain look on my face that is working wonder’s for him.

“That’s it,” he mumbles, taking a few shots before peeking at me over the camera. “Give me some more.”

I do a few different poses as he praises me for my work. 

“You look better in these than I do,” he breathes out.

“That can’t be true,” I deny, walking behind the camera to take a look at what he’s gotten so far. 

I have to say, the gray Fresh Love sweatpants he’s wearing aren’t doing the best job of hiding what’s going on in that head of his. 

I look through some of the pictures, hearing his breaths gain strength next to me. “Why don’t we take some together like you suggested? I can set a timer and it’ll do a flash of a hundred at a time.”

He nods. I take his hand in mine and lead him back in front of the camera. “Is this how all your shoots go with clients?” he asks quietly.

“Only the cutest ones,” I tease. 

I move him around until I find a pose that works for us, settling on me sitting on the floor in front of him with him behind me. His hands rest on me, a simple feeling that I had been aching for all day. 

We spent about 10 minutes posing together, alternating between us standing in front or behind each other until we decide to take a few looking at each other. 

“This could be a good way to tease the new drop,” I say. “Just a few shots of the sides while we’re looking at each other.”

He nods, willing to do anything I offer at this point. 

We stand with our chests almost touching, our faces close enough to feel each other's breathing pattern. I hear a flush of photos being taken, a small smile growing on my face while I look at him. As the photos continue to take, he makes his move. 

Suddenly, his hands are on my face, holding me closely as he kisses me hard. I wasn’t expecting this in the slightest no matter how much I was hoping for it. The photos continue to capture the moment as it grows more heated, his tongue finding a way into my mouth until I’m falling backwards and he’s catching me at my lower back. 

He pins me against the backdrop, funnily enough, the one covered in red hearts. 

He pulls back with a sharp inhale, catching his breath. “I’d been thinking of doing that since I walked in.”

“Took you long enough,” I tease. 

“Shut up,” he mutters, placing his lips back on mine. “You’re distracting me from my work.”

“I think you were doing just fine,” I assure him. “Great, even.”

“Mmm,” he hums, a mix of pleasure and satisfaction from my compliments. I smile at the sound of the camera going off, which makes Chris pull back from me. “What?”

I point behind him, watching as he focuses on the camera, and it continues to flash, capturing his smirk while my lipstick is all over his face. 

I can’t wait to look at these later. 

tag list: @freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl @oliviasturniolo21 @keira324 @sstvrnioloo @sturnitup @sturnsvoid @theyluv-meee @therewilljustbereputationts13 @ilovedasturniolos @dancemomsfanee @rootbeerworshiper @sturn3ol0 @swaggygirlboss123 @lustfulslxt

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo

[rushtoprove]

the deepest melancholy

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader rating: mature (18+) word count: 5.9k+ summary: you wished you were strong enough to fight against the life that had been planned for you, but instead you cower at the thought of marrying the dreaded kinslayer, and you were sure he wished to be marrying someone else too. but neither of you could escape this marriage. duty always prevails. chapter summary: the realm was left a mess after the war between the targaryen kin. aegon may have won but the city despises those who almost destroyed the realm. the greens have become the most feared family in the realm, and prince aemond the most frightening figure of them all. that is why the townsfolk weep as your carriage passes them. they pity the sweet girl who is to be sacrificed to the kinslayer and his family. warnings: smut. arranged marriage. uncomfortably smut. forced marriage. angst. it will get better. beauty and the beast au (?) authors note: I have a bad habit of disappearing to remain mysterious. I see my flaws. But truthfully... I never left.

masterlist

It had been six days since your arrival on this foreign shore, but you were still consumed with the sickness that comes with travelling upon the sea. Your stomach seemed to tighten with every bump or shift of the carriage, and every jolt had your dress being pulled tighter into your fists. The echoing voices and cries made it known that your arrival to the red keep had gained an audience, so you slowly pulled back the curtain of the carriage and peered out to see the villagers who you would soon preside over.

“They have experienced hell little one.” Your brother sighed pitifully as he leaned over your shoulder to view the commotion. The folk looked solemnly on the moving carriage, shaking their heads and bowing towards your hidden figure. Some wept pitifully for you leaving the bile in your stomach no choice but to race upwards, and when you made eye contact with an old nun crossing herself in a silent blessing, you hastily tugged the curtains back into place and push yourself into your seat.

“You would leave me here.” You chocked out in anguish. He simply laughed. All he ever did was laugh at you.

Your brother would not support you in your sorrows. He would not weep, nor would he pity you, because it was he who was forcing you into this torment. He was the one marrying you off to the second prince of the realm. He was the one orchestrating your misery. Your brother will simply dump you at the feet of the most hated family of the realm and walk away with more land and title.

“You can thank father for your predicament sister. It was that reckless old man who fought for the traitor Rhaenyra. It was he who lost our good will with the crown. It is I who is simply trying to win back our favour and our riches.”

“They will think me a traitor like they think our father was. He fought for her because he made an oath to support her claim. They will not differentiate who was under our banner on the battlefield. They will take out their anger on me. He will take out his anger on me.” The chills that tingled your spine when you thought of your future husband should be familiar by now, but it still frightens you.

“Father was blinded. Being obligated to risk all our fortune over a pathetic oath forced upon him by the late King Viserys. He worked beside Otto Hightower that whole time. He should know better than anyone the power that man held. He should have known the battle was won before Viserys was even dead.”

“Our father was a loyal subject to Queen Rhaenyra and he fought for her because he knew she would be an admirable ruler. She would have ruled as peacefully as her father. Now we are left with a drunken fool who has started a war with the stepstones once more and his brother who is using his new position as Commander of the City Watch to use cruelty and violence on the folk of Westeros for his on pleasure.” Your father’s death was still raw and the slight against his name lit a dangerous passion in you. It was horrifying listening to your brother talk about your poor dear father so carelessly, but he simply clicked his tongue in mock shame.

“Careful now or you may lose your tongue. Aegon is King, and your dear Lord Commander shall soon control you for the rest of your life. You shall have to worship the ground he walks upon if you wish to be a dutiful wife and not anger the King’s Mother. Although I do not think you are in too much danger of him touching you as I hear you are not his type dear. There are whispers he prefers to fuck witches and hags.” You shook with rage at his condescending tone.

“He burnt countless amounts off innocent farmers and villagers and left nothing but ashes wherever he went. You would give your sister to a man who murdered his own family… twice. He is Aemond the Kinslayer and you would…”

“You should be proud sister. I’ve matched you with a prince! A disfigured, cruel man who reduced half the realm to ashes, but a prince no less. Just ignore the bloodlust and violence and I’m sure it will not be so bad. All you need do is bare his heir and look pretty.” His childish snickers as he cut you off had you seeing red, but you understood you could do nothing but seethe silently. How could he be so proud to sell off his sister to the notorious brute that had burnt cities to the ground and slayed anyone who got in the way of his family as they usurped Rhaenyra’s throne. His bloodlust had even led to the murder of his own kin. How could such an animal be expected to make a suitable husband?

The sound of the city guards yelling for the gates to be opened, and the grinding and rattling that followed meant that you had finally arrived at the red keep, and that your life was over at the meek age of one and twenty. Your brother wasted no time jumping from the carriage the moment the door was swung open, but you stayed for just a second longer. Hovering the tips of your fingers over the stitching of your family's sigil that was engraved in the cushions around you, you let out an unsteady sigh. You thought of your father, of his kindness and his love. His bravery and his wit. He would have let you marry someone you were comfortable with; he would have wanted you to have a peaceful life. Your brother was to throw you into the dragon den.

“May I present my sister to your graces?! She’s a shy little thing forgive her!’ You brother boasted with a joyous laugh. His hand reached into the carriage and grabbed blindly for you, leaving you no choice but to straighten yourself, and swallow the melancholy that came with remembering your past. You did not take his hand, but instead stepped slowly from the carriage with a bowed head, allowing almost no vision of what was in front of you. You let yourself fall into a graceful curtsey and remained low. There was large audience lined around the courtyard of the Red Keep, leaving you nervously tremble.

“Your graces.” You whispered, slowly letting your eyes raise. There were many figures that had lined up to welcome you, but it was the four at the very front who demanded your attention. King Aegon sat in his wheelchair; half his face taken up by the burnt scarring the late Princess Rhaenys had left him upon her death, looking bored by the entire meeting. His wife, Princess Heleana stood beside him, but her gaze was towards the empty spot to the left of us, and her incoherent mumbling seemed to be ignored by everyone around her. Her mother, Alicent Hightower, had a hand on her daughter's elbow but you could not decide if it was to support her daughter or herself. She seemed overcome by exhaustion and the lines on her face seemed to age her more than she was. Her hair had begun greying and the unkept strands made you think she had run her hand through it vigorously.

“Welcome to our court. We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.” The smile that the dowager queen forced gave you no source of comfort, but you took the welcome as permission to stand at your full posture, and you finally allowed yourself to gaze upon your future husband. You would be lying if you did not admit to letting your gaze be drawn straight to the ugly scarring that peaked out from beneath his leather eye patch. It seemed to match the tight leather attire that fitted his lean body. He was a true Targaryen prince, with his perfect white hair and bright purple eye, so you were not shocked by his beauty. After all, Targaryen's were closer to the Gods than men. His looming figure was so still you could mistake it for a statue but proving not to be only by the slightest bow of his head as he gazed at you. His blank expression gave you no hint of whether he was satisfied by you and the silence that followed his mother's greeting left much to be uncertain of.

“I am much appreciative to be welcomed so kindly.” You wish you had the prowess to stand tall, or the courage to say something spiteful about this dreaded situation you had found yourself in; but you were scared.

“Pretty little thing you are my dear future sister. So innocent and quiet. I don’t know if my dear brother shall know what to do with you.” The King mocked Aemond boldly leaving a few courtiers to snicker, and Aegon turned his gaze knowingly towards his younger brother, eager for a reaction, but Aemond Targaryen simply stared at you. Trying politely to avert your gaze, your eyes moved to stare at his feet, but something drew your attention back to him not one minute later. His gaze was still on you.

“My sister shall allow whatever Prince Aemond desires. She is the most dutiful thing. I’m sure she will make a devoted wife.” You tensed at your brother’s demeaning comments and felt a swell of rage as the young king whistled in delight.

“Perhaps I shall wed her than! Take two wives just as my namesake did. Or perhaps I shall get rid of… that.” All eyes but one was drawn to Queen Heleana, but she did not notice and instead continued whispering with a sad smile. You could not help your brows from furrowing in empathy for the broken princess. It was no secret to the realm what horrors the woman had been through. The anguish that would come with watching your oldest son slain before your very eyes. The disrespect her husband spewed made your skin crawl. Feeling choked up by the pity, you averted your gaze towards Aemond Targaryen.

His eye had not left you.

You both stood in silence for a beat before Aemond slowly took a step forward. The quiet chatter of the courtiers stopped instantly and suddenly the atmosphere was heightened with anticipation of what the prince was about to do. Your breath was caught and with each step he took forward, you heart hammered harder. The lurching your stomach felt in the carriage was nothing compared to this very moment. It was as if time stretched longer than you ever thought possible, leaving you to feel as if you had been stuck in that one spot for eternity, waiting for the strides of your future husband to reach you. His lean figure was straight, and his gaze remained intense, inspecting your reaction as he moved towards you. When he finally reached your frozen figure, he towered over you, looking down with an almost cruel amusement in his eye. He finally moved his gaze from your face to give you a once over, slowly letting it fall down your entire body, before crawling back up.

“Shall I show you around the keep my lady?” His hand slowly extended, and you felt yourself hypnotised, reaching for it without a thought.

“I would be thankful for the tour of your home my prince, but I would not want to keep you from your duties.” You breathed out. If you were of the right mind, you would curse yourself at how kindly you greeted him, but alas you were overwhelmed by how close he stood, and how godly he looked up closely. Without breaking eye contact, Prince Aemond raised your knuckles to his lips and lightly let them brush against your skin, leaving the feeling of fire to consume your body.

“It would be my pleasure,” His voice was low as he finished the sentence with your name, and you were hypnotized by the way it rolled of his lips. If he had any idea of the sudden intoxication that had overpowered you, he did not show any hint of it, and you were thankful he did not boast of it. You were already to humiliated to bare. You were never the type of foolish girl to be besotted with a man, let alone a monster like this, but Aemond Targaryen seemed to conquer your very being with his mere presence. You were smart enough to recognise this was going to cause nothing but trouble for you.

“I would not wish to burden you.” You whispered softly for only his ears but threaded your arm over his awaiting arm all the same. You fell in step with his powerful strides and did not spare your brother a second glance as you passed him by. The prince breezed through the crowd who had come to gawk at the poor young girl who was getting sacrificed to this vicious man, and you found yourself revelling in the way they quickly scurried to the side to let you pass. Your amusement was short lived due to a hand reaching out and clutching at your elbow, leaving you staggering away from your future husband and into the body of a nameless courtier.

“Bless you sweetheart. Bless your poor soul. Let the Gods protect you from him.” The crowd around you began feverously whispering to one another, shocked by the man’s audacity, but the room was quickly silenced as two knights hoisted the man back with a shout and dragged him so fast, he had no chance to gain any footing. His body was dragged away as he cried and kicked his feet like a little boy leaving you once again unable to breathe. It was as if you had iced water thrown over you. The spell was broken, and you suddenly remembered who you held onto so eagerly. You were overcome by the smell of smoke and rot, as if you had been transported to the fields that Aemond Targaryen had so happily burnt to ashes. You swear you could smell the burnt flesh of his ghosts in that very moment.

“Come now my lady. Let’s get you away from this noise.” Aemond stared at the man being heaved away, expressionless. It was as if he was used to the scene that unfolded and was almost bored by the antics of the courtiers. You tried not to let him see your trembling fingers as you laced your hand upon his elbow and looked down in shame.

“What shall happen to him?” You don’t know why you asked, because you know what happens to those who speak out against this Targaryen family. Aemond began his pace once more but this time you could tell he was surveying every movement around them, waiting for another attack.

“He will be executed. We do not allow disobedience in our court.” He said your name as he finished his sentence and gazed down at you.

You understood the warning.

+++

Your wedding was a solemn affair. You had imagined when the time came around, there would be laughter and dancing, flowers and wine thrown around. Colourful and delightful with a husband who would steal kisses at the wedding feast and spend the night spinning you in his arms. Your family surrounding you. Your father hiding his tears as he watched you give your hand to the man you loved.

It was nothing like that. The crowd was silent as you walked. Not one person in the room smiled. The crowd bowed their heads in respect or pity, you cared not to know, and you had no energy to try and feign delight at the altar. Your husband was no different. He stared ahead with a grimace, but continued preforming the duty that was marrying you. You tried not to look at him during the ceremony but failed only once. He looked disconcerted by the whole experience making your heart ache. You wondered if he wished he was marrying the witch your brother had so carelessly mentioned. Your cursed heart ached at the thought. Not from jealousy, but from the desire of wanting to marry someone who wanted you. You were being chained to this man forever, and he wished for you to be someone else. But you could not fault him in that. Gods knows you too wished to be marrying someone else.

The wedding feast felt more like the wake at a funeral. There was a band playing some music in the balcony above, but no one moved. You sat stiffly by your new husband as you both stared ahead, trying to ignore the soft murmurs of the crowded hall. His finger were clenched around his chair and he did not speak as numerous courtiers steeped forward to present you both with your wedding gifts. It was left up to you to utter your appreciation at the useless artifacts while they scurried away, fearful of angering the prince with their presence.

“Please smile Aemond. Or do something that is not sitting there and scowling.” You pretended to ignore it when your new mother-in-law hissed into her sons' ear, then tried not to cower when he moved his hand to rest on yours above the table. The whole crowd would have seen the way you both flinched at the contact.

“Smile sister. This is a joyous occasion.” Your brother muttered lowly beside your ear, sometime after Alicent had ordered the same thing. You felt Aemond’s hand clench around yours just slightly, and you knew that he had heard your brother. Slowly you inched closer to your husband and gave him a slight smile, but you were sure it came out as a grimace instead.

“How will the Kingsguard handle tonight without their leader?” Whether it was out of politeness or awkwardness, you do not know, but the conversation you tried to start was quickly shut down by the monotone voice of your husband. He did not react to your words and let his gaze remain on the crowd below.

“I will be joining the patrols once we are finished our duty tonight.” You slipped your hand from his and clenched your wedding dress tightly in discomfort. You felt his gaze turn to you leaving your skin burning under his gaze.

“I see.”

You turned away from him and did not look at him until an hour later when he stood from his seat. The music halted at once and the room was silenced. The guards around the room quickly stood tall as Aemond surveyed the audience.

“My wife and I have grown quite tired from the festivities. It is time we retire to our bedchamber. Please, continue enjoying the feast my mother has so careful crafted.” Your new ladies-in-waiting quickly moved to your side from all corners of the room while the wedding party moved to walk you both to your doom. You were allowed to step into the room without your husband so that your ladies could help you ready yourself. On the other side of the door, Aemond was doing the same. It seemed he was joining you in your quarters tonight, in your new bed. There would be no safe place for you to escape the man.

“Are you alright my lady?” One of your ladies whispered as she undid your tight corset. The silk ribbon was unravelled and with each breath you released the closer you were to crumbling to the floor. You had spent the last two weeks in a constant state of fear and melancholy, and it all seemed to be coming to ahead at the worst time possible.

“I am alright Alyssa. Just tired.” You ignored the look the three women around you gave one another and instead moved your gaze elsewhere and landed on the worst possible spot. You had left your bed a crumpled mess this morning, after a night of restlessly tossing and turning, but you could not tell that anymore. The sheets were perfectly straight and tightened in the corners, folded down with such precision it made you feel sick. Your mother had died in childbirth, and you had no sisters so your knowledge of what was about to happen was limited, but you knew to expect the pain and blood at the hands of your husband.

“I hope you are not truly tired Brother. Your night has only just begun.” King Aegon slurred voice was muffled by the door but still audible. If you were not already filled with dread then, you sure as hell were now.

“Aegon, please just leave your comments for one night.” Alicent’s tired voice sighed back. You could not help the tears that began falling as your ladies began the final touches, fluffing your hair and untying the sleep gown so that it would be easier to remove. Without so much a glance at those in the room, you clamoured into the bed and wept.

“My lady, you cannot let them see this. They will think you ungrateful. It would do Prince Aemond great dishonour.” The three girls rushed to their lady in crisis and were quick to brush your hair from your face and hold you in comfort. You hardly talked to these girls, as they were a gift from your new family, and you assumed them to be spies for your husband and his scheming mother. But in this moment, you could only think of the comfort of being held.

“I’m scared.” You whimpered as they tried to sooth you with their murmurs.

“It is a scary thing my lady, but do not fret. It is over quicker than you can imagine.” Caitlyn, a relative of the Tully’s assured you as she stroked your hair.

“Oh yes. Just turn your gaze to something else in the room and it will be finished before you even settle on an object to admire.” Margaret, a distant relative of the Stark’s agreed with the assurance. It did not help but you appreciated the before. You wished to be held longer, but a stiff knock to the door echoed around your room.

“Is the Lady prepared?” The girls were quick to pat away your tears, and with a quick curtsey they moved to open the door. You instead turned your face to the side and stared at the new moon that was almost in the centre of the window frame. You did not need to look to know who had knocked.

“Yes, my prince. She is awaiting you.” With a curtsey they rushed out the room, leaving a silence that was only disrupted by the slight crackle of the candles that lit your room. You had tried hard to replicate the warmth of your room back home, but it had never felt colder. Time seemed to once again slow, and it felt a lifetime before you heard the click of the door closing. It remained quiet, and you thought for a second that your husband had perhaps decided he could not bear this just as much as you. Perhaps he had stormed off to the city to lead his guards in slaughtering the criminals within the walls of this wretched place. Perhaps you could sleep peacefully tonight, safe from the beast for one more night. The candles going out one by one let you know that your dreams were crushed, and that you were not alone in the room. He was silent as he crossed the floor, putting out all sources of light until you were left in the darkness of the night. The darkened moon did nothing to help you see.

“Do you know what to expect?” His voice sliced through the silence, choking you. You squeezed your eyes closed and did a small nod.

“I know enough.” You whispered as the bed beside you dipped. He sat beside you for a moment, and even in the darkness you could feel his eye on you.

“I shall try not to hurt you, but it will be uncomfortable.” Your eyes remained tightly closed and your fingers began to tremble. You did not expect any truth in his words. This man was vicious, known for the way he revelled in pain and torture. Why would he treat the daughter of a traitor any different?

“I would be most grateful.” You choked out and quickly turned away as you felt more tears build up. Aemond’s breath caught and for a moment it felt as he if was grieved by your whimper, but with a soft grunt he still turned to you and mounted his body atop of yours. The close contact of his chest on your chest sucked the breath from your lungs and you reached for his arms to stop him from crushing you, but he never did. He seemingly balanced his weight perfectly atop of you and slowly allowed his hand to rest on your hip.

“Please breathe. I do not wish to watch you suffocate wife.” He whispered as his fingers moved delicately across your clothed stomach. The reminder had you sucking deep in through your nose and exhaling staggered though your lips. His hand continued to dance lightly over your clothed torso, and you could not help but squeak as his hand moved towards your breast. You had never even kissed a man, let alone have one like this. He could not choke back his soft chuckle at your innocence, as he firmly pushed his palm down.

“Oh.” You whimpered in confusion. He pushed his hips down against yours and let out an almost relieved sigh at the contact. He began a slow movement of his hips as one hand groped you and the other clung to your hip. Your body felt alight with fire, and you could do nothing more but clutch at your husbands' arms in confusion. His teeth moved to your ear and your body arched against his at the feeling of them grazing your neck. Your brain seemed to stop and the overwhelming feelings that were all happening at once was almost too much to bare.

“Breathe.” He ordered in a soft murmur as his lips pressed on the skin between your jaw and ear. You wanted to tell him the truth in that very moment. You were trying to breathe, but you are worried you have forgotten how.

“Sorry.” Was all you could muster. His hand moved from your breast to trailing back down your body and began bunching the bottom of your nightdress up. You could feel the lace of it brushing up your legs leaving bumps to litter your skin at the soft caress. Your body froze in fear at what was about to happen. Once the dress was secured above your waist, you gasped at Aemond’s hand moving to clutch at your thigh. You were shocked at the feeling of someone else’s skin gripping yours.

“Have you prepared yourself?” He breathed out as he pushed his hips forward. It seemed to brush something that left you once again arching into him, only this time you were much more desperate to keep that contact.

“My ladies prepared me.” You stuttered out in confusion. Had he not already asked that to your ladies? His amused sigh made you think you had misunderstood his question.

“I sure hope they haven’t prepared you the way I ask about.” He grunted. Getting up on to his knees, you found yourself shivering at the loss of his body heat. Your arms dropped from his arms leaving you lying breath him, trying hard to steady your panting breaths.

“I have been bathed and pampered to.” His soft hum filled the room as you explained your answer, then he began moving his hand towards the inside of your thighs.

“My Prince!” You cried out, pushing away his fingers as they moved towards his destination. Your cheeks reddened with a deep crimson that only you could be aware of in this dark room.

“Do you want this to hurt? I promised I would help, and this is the only way.” He peeled your hands away and continued as if he had not been interrupted. Your irregular breaths began heavily, and you wondered if the whole castle could hear the noise.

“Prince…” You gasped as you felt his finger run up your most sacred area. He let out an almost disappointed sigh, and you were overtaken by the shame. Was there something wrong? Your fears were cut short as you felt him begin dancing the tips of his fingers down, then once again back up.

“You are not ready yet. But I shall prepare you.” His voiced was that of duty, with no shift of tone or colour. You had no choice but to lie in utter confusion at what was happening. No one had warned you about this part of consummating a marriage. The feeling of his fingers felt foreign, but you found your muscles almost relaxing under the touch.

“Aemond…” You sighed out his name without a though of his titles or nobility and this small gesture seemed to be enough for your husband to begin applying more pressure.

“Relax under my touch. This will help.” His voice whispered into the darkness. When he moved his finger up to begin circling your bud you almost flew from the bed. He seemed to expect such a reaction from you as he had already pushed his free hand into your stomach to keep you unmoving. You whimpered out his name again as he began to pick up speed and you found yourself trying to push away from his touch, even though you weren’t sure you wanted it to end. It felt as if a soft tremor was building inside your stomach, and you soon found your body clenching out of its relaxed state.

“Please don’t.” You don’t know what you were saying this but the fear at the feeling building inside you had you beginning to panic beneath his touch.

“Shhh, trust me.” He whispered your name above you before slowly moving his fingers to push inside you. The foreign feeling was too much, and you quickly gripped onto the second prince and screwed your eyes shut. His thumb remained circling your bud as his finger began stroking your inner walls leaving you crying out in shock. Your body tensed with each stroke of his fingers, and you soon began whimpering incoherently. You felt that pressure suddenly overcome you and it was no longer a soft tremor, but an overwhelming sensation that only kept building. It began the panic in your mind, and you clung tighter onto Aemond.

“Please…” You chocked out in desperation, pushing your hips forward into his palm. He began quickening his pace and you could not help but throw your head back and moan.

“You’re doing so well, good girl.” You don’t know what happened at his words, but your body arched, and you cried out as the waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you crying out and clutching Aemond’s shoulders. The pressure suddenly broke and you felt your voice disappear and instead seemed to scream out silently. Your body trembled and clenched throughout this feeling and Aemond did not halt his movements once. It was only when your body seemed to jolt from his touch that he slowed his movements pulled his fingers from you, leaving a slick trail to follow his touch.

“I’m… my prince, forgive me.” You were horrified by the way your body reacted at his touch.

“You did everything I had hoped you would.” He murmured before moving to unlace his pants. Your mind was too busy spinning to register the gesture, so you just stared dumbly as his hand slid underneath them. You watched in silent curiosity as his hand seemingly began moving and Aemond’s eyes furrowed in frustration.

“Could you… touch my arms or something?” He grunted as his hand seemed to quicken its movements. Your mouth was gaping like a fish as you cautiously nodded. With the gentlest touch you began tracing his arm upwards, blushing like madwoman. His movements did not halt once as you nervously ran your fingers up to his shoulders. You thought of his hand gripping your thigh, and how pleasing the firm grip he used was, so you nervously tightened your grip. It seemed to work because Aemond began adjusting himself out of his trousers. He allowed himself to fall forward to his original position of lying atop your body making your body still in anticipation of what was to come.

“Just turn your gaze to something else in the room and it will be finished before you even settle on an object to admire.” Margaret’s words were a reminder for you, so you turned your gaze to the window and tried to count how many stars you could see. You managed to get to twelve before he pushed himself into you and stole your gaze back greedily.

“Agh Aemond.” You were choked by the feeling as Aemond’s irregular breaths consumed your hearing.

‘I know, just…” He did not finish as he sunk deeper, and you cried out at the sharp pain inside you. It was not unbearable, but there was a great discomfort. You found yourself burying your head into his shoulder as he slowly began a slow movement with his hips leaving you gulping out a groan of pain.

“Just turn your gaze to something else in the room and it will be finished before you even settle on an object to admire.” One star. Two stars. Three stars. Your bottom lip trembled as the pleasure of your night seemed to finish and instead you were left trying not to squirm away in pain. Aemond’s silver strands kept moving to block your vision, so you finally turned back. Your nosed grazed his and you saw his eye widen in the darkness before his entire body stilled. He groaned deeply as he pressed his hips further into you and you could feel him twitching against you.

“It is done.” He breathed out. His movement was quick as he pulled out and moved to sit on the side of the bed. You were shocked by his quick movements and watched in a frazzled state as he quickly began relacing his pants. Following his lead, you pulled your dress back down and moved to rest against the headboard of your grand bed.

“I must attend the city watch now. I shall visit your chambers again tomorrow night until we…” You could tell a distant though had cut him off, but you knew what he meant. Until a child was conceived you would have to suffer him in your bed most nights.

“Did I…. Did I do something wrong?” You pulled the sheets to your chin in confusion at how desperate the man was to leave your company. He stood up and began pulling on his jacket that he must have taken off when he entered your rooms.

“You did everything perfectly. It is done now.” He moved towards the door, leaving you alone and disorientated by him. He turned back to look at you and you wondered what you must have looked like to him. Blushing and breathless, your hair a mess and your chest heaving, you assumed you looked a fool to the prince.

“Good night ābrazȳrys.” He mumbled. Your breath caught at his Valyrian, and you felt your brows furrow as the door quickly opened then closed swiftly. He was gone but you could hear a small commotion on the other side of the door.

“Aemond…”

“It is done mother; I have done my duty. Now leave me in peace.”

#hotd imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon imagine #aemond imagine #aemond x reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Husband + G.N Monster Reader

A Slightly Fluffy/Slightly Suggestive Holiday Blurb

-

What do you get someone who has everything?

"You're asking me what I want for Christmas? Why would I want anything else when I already have everything I need? A nice house, a loving spouse. I'd say I'm set for life- so why don't you tell me what you'd like this year, Sweetheart."

He's so difficult sometimes- Your dear husband had always made sure the holiday season was special for you. Even as a college student with little to his name, he wanted you to experience the same magic he witnessed as a child when his parents were forced to play the part of attentive caretakers. Presents, festive activities, decorating the house. As you've never had the pleasure of these traditions due to your origins your husband made it his duty to give you everything and more- well, except for one thing.

You wanted to be the one to go all out for him for once. To see the joy and happiness in his eyes when he unwraps the perfect present that you picked out yourself. You've tried asking him. You've tried watching him to learn more about the little things he enjoys, but it's all you. All he wants for Christmas is your life. He enjoys cooking and gardening because they're things that keep you happy and cared for.

His entire life revolved around you - and as such, the answer to your blight has been in your lap the entire time.

-

Your husband arrives home an hour early. You expected him to get off a little early due to the holiday, but what you hadn't guessed was that he'd bring guests. Springing up from your sprawled out position on the couch, you rush to the front door - grabbing and hastily tossing on a coat as the choir of voices and the jostling of keys grows closer. Securing the belt strap around your waist and a scarf around your neck, you wait for the click out of outside lock and a knock on the frame before sliding back the bolt on your side of the door. Your husband lights up like a christmas tree seeing you standing there - the soft flush of his pale cheeks accented by the warm flow of the lights strung around your shared home.

Evan steps through the door, excitement dripping from his every move as he throws his arms at your waist. "You're already dressed. I meant to call you, but I left my phone back at the office."

Glancing over his shoulder, you hug your coat tighter to your chest - cold winds nawing at the thick layers of your flesh. "Evan...Who are they?"

Evan looks back at his colleagues. He told them to stay in their cars, but what goes in on ear goes right out the other. Are they scaring you? "A few friends from work. There's a party at the office I completely forgot about today and they followed me since I've already had a couple glasses. I thought it might be a good way for you to get to know some of them.

You shift uncomfortably under their gaze. "Evan, can I talk to you privately."

"Of course." Evan shuts the front door behind him without even addressing his coworkers. Your safety was more important. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing... I was just wondering if we should stay home tonight... I have a gift I wanted to give you early."

The worry drains from his face. "Oh, hun- you didn't have to go through all that trouble for me. I've told you before that you're the greatest gift I could ever ask for. We can open it when we get home.

"Are you sure you don't want a peak now?"

His brows scrunch up in confusion. Cupping your hand against his ear, you untie your belt - letting the loose fitting coat fall freely. Even at your height the coat was a little big on you as it had been commissioned by your sweet husband as a present a few years back. The flush of his cheeks reaches all the way to his ears as you whisper.

"You've always say I'm the best gift you have ever received."

Hands tear the coat further from your shoulders. Evan looks from your face, to the ribbons wrapped around your thighs and torso, laced across your body with a finished bow sitting center on your chest. It was fitted tastefully enough to cover your assets, but with tiny imperfections between the layers of ribbon and its transparency if he tilted his head just right-

Evan presses his palm to his mouth to mask the shaky breath he exhales.

"Well?"

"Excuse me for one moment."

Evan covers you back up with a kiss to your shoulder. You press your ear to the front door as he steps back outside.

"I'm really sorry, guys. My spouse came down with something while I was out. They're extremely sick right now. You might not even hear from us till the new years. Enjoy the party!"

As cautious as he is, you've never seen your husband neglect to lock the upper locks on the front door as he did when he returned to your side. Evan sweeps you off your feet with little effort thanks to all the training he'd done for that express reason. Hooking your arms around him as he carries you to bed - you plant wet kisses to the already scarred areas of his neck and cheek.

"Do you like your present?"

Evan kisses your jaw. "None can compare...... but maybe you should ask again once I get this ribbon off.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere husband #Evan my oc #yandere fluff #monster reader

[rileyslibrary]

hi babes!

could you write something for ghost x civillian or medic (fem)reader with a one bed trope? (something angsty + fluff?)

btw i really like your writings! keep up the great work, you're amazing!

thank you x

@efsa-lks , babe! 🍫 The good ol’ “there’s only one bed” trope! I was wondering if someone would request this! I kept it short and sweet ;)

“… there’s food in the fridge for both of you and plenty of ammo in the base-”

You stop reading Laswell’s note and look up at Ghost. He stares back at you with narrow eyes and gestures for you to continue.

“-ment. Unfortunately, though, there’s only...”

“No,” he interrupts you, shaking his head, “no fockin’ way.”

“-one bed, so you’ll have to share.”

He runs towards you and extends his hand. “Gimme the bloody paper.” He orders and snatches it from your fingers.

His eyes jump from word to word, eagerly looking for a possible mistake. He finishes reading, throws the “bloody paper” on the kitchen table and heads to the bedroom to verify Laswell’s words.

You sigh. Why is he so grumpy all the damn time? It’s just for a night, and it’s not like you’ll cuddle like newlyweds. He’s too offensive sometimes.

“So?” You shout from the kitchen and hear his footsteps approaching. They’re slow and sound... defeated.

He leans on the door’s frame and looks up. “Affirmative.” He says, disappointed, “There’s only one bed.”

You follow him to the bedroom and stare at the single bed before you. You scratch your head, imagining two Tetris blocks trying to puzzle their way across the bed without disturbing each other. He rubs his temples as if he’s sending brain waves to the bed so it can split in two and magically solve your problem.

“What if-”

“Don’t you dare mention it.” You stop him.

“I didn’t-”

“You were going to suggest sleeping in reverse, my head looking at your feet and vice versa,” you sneer, “but it’s been done before.”

“Where?”

“In another fic.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

His mask stretches, and you can tell he has his mouth open. You take a deep breath and let it all out before suggesting something else far worse than the one he proposed.

“Ever heard of spooning?” You hesitate.

His mouth closes, and the expression gets transferred to his eyes. “Are you having a laugh?” He asks, shocked, and you put your hands up.

“Stay with me, Ghost.”

“Can’t do much about that,” he mutters, “we’ll practically sleep together.”

You rub your forehead and continue. “I’ll be the big spoon,” you explain. “This way, you won’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I won’t feel uncomfortable?” He repeats your statement and points at himself, “Don’t tell me that I’m the only one who’s feeling that.”

You frown and bring your index finger to the tip of his nose.

“You know what,” you say, “I’m tired of your shit; tired of walking on eggshells, trying to keep some peace between us and not disturb you.”

He raises his eyebrows and breathes in. He wants to say something, but you’re too angry to hear it.

“I saved you, for god’s sake,” you press your finger on his chest, “I saved your ass last year when I patched that bullet hole in that chest of yours. And all you do is keep treating me like shit.” You say, removing your hand from him and walking towards the door. His eyes follow you until he decides to speak.

“Small,” he says but stops. He doesn’t even believe what he’s about to say. “Small spoon it is, then.”

You pause just outside the door, and a smile forms across your lips. Can it be that he finally came to his senses? Took him long enough, you think. Or maybe he just needed a reality check. You shake the satisfaction off your face and turn to look at him with a disinterested look.

“Which side?” You ask, “Left or right?”

“Left side,” he replies. “I have to keep an eye on the window.”

He assumes position first, and you lie behind him, your forehead brushing his back. As the “big spoon,” you mimic his stance, attaching yourself to him like a mould. He is stiff and awkward, trying to take as little space as possible and failing miserably.

But it’s not just the two of you in this bed. He’s not the littlest spoon. He holds his gun in front of him since he needs to be on the lookout in case someone locates you.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t-”

“I want—I need to protect you,” he corrects himself, “and I’m the only one who knows how to use a gun, so we must stick together.”

“Isn’t this ‘sticking together’ enough for you?” You ask, and his shoulders move up and down. He’s laughing.

“Thank you,” he says, “for saving me back then.”

“It’s my job.”

“And for keeping up with me,” he continues, “I know I’m not the easiest.”

“No, you’re not,” you reply, “but you’re my big-little spoon.” You coo and wrap an arm around his waist.

He freezes at first but lets out another chuckle, this one more audible than the last one, and grabs your hand. He brings it to his chest, where that bullet wound used to be, and secures it under his arm.

“Fork you, little-big spoon,” he quips, and turns off the night lamp.

#simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod mwii

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 5 - 50 Shades of Audacity (1)

KAKASHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: If suddenly waking up in an uncanny office had been bad, this time was worse, because you had a job interview, and the guy before you had just stormed out in tears. Why did you pick this world again? And why is your boss an asshole? And sexy? And with a nice voice? Fuck, this wasn't going to be good. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, sex while both parties are a little tipsy, workplace violations, questions about someone not eating lunch due to being a workaholic, and overuse of the world asshole as an adjective. All alphas have dicks, fyi.

A/N: Happy Holidays everyone! And a special happy holidays to those who guessed that our next omega was going to be Kakashi!!! December is well underway and I'm working hard to get all these chapters finished in time for the epilogue to be released on Christmas! The dynamic is different with this one, but I hope everyone enjoys nonetheless <333 I hope you enjoy the choice for the second character, @omeganronpa I'm honoured to call you my friend <333

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

In the span of one blink, you went from standing in the library with James, to sitting on an uncomfortable chair in some kind of office waiting room. No matter how many times you jumped between realities, you swore you would never get used to the complete sensory change that happened in milliseconds. You had changed positions, clothes, company and scenery just like that.

Trying to gain your bearings, you tried to take in your new surroundings. Your first thought was that you had some serious déjà vu, as James’ uncanny valley of an office sprung to mind. Seriously, how many times were you going to suddenly gain consciousness in a soulless office?

At least this one was a lot less creepy, you admitted. It had doors and windows for starters, but the cavernous size of the room also helped diminish the claustrophobic feeling. Rather than beige, the room was decorated in a tasteful, modern, monochrome, boring but inoffensive, and better than too much beige in your opinion.

The copious amounts of soulless corporate art on every surface were the final touches that convinced you this was a real office and not set dressing for purgatory.

The waiting room was full of people though. You hadn’t seen this many people in one place since Itachi took you into town, and the general air of anxiety coming off them all was putting you on edge.

You fidgeted, uncomfortable at suddenly wearing formal business wear. The blue folder that was sitting on your lap shifted slightly, but you paid it no mind as you straightened everything out and readjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. To your left, what you could only describe as the combination of a modern water feature and grandfather clock chimed, signalling it as 09:00 AM.

‘James? Can you hear me?’

‘I can, human alpha.’

‘Great. Can you give me a run down of this pocket dimension please? It’s been like, two weeks since I read the blurb.’

‘Of course. ’50 Shades of Audacity’ follows MC, an alpha graduate student who lands the role of personal assistant to one of the most famous CEOs of the time, omega, Kakashi Hatake. MC discovers that Kakashi is hiding a submissive streak, and together, they explore their relationship while preparing for the yearly Autumn Company Party.’

You nodded idly as James explained it, vague memories coming back to you. The man next to you shot you a weird look, and you realised you were nodding at seemingly nothing. You cleared your throat and shifted awkwardly. Whoops.

Regardless, the blurb put your current situation into perspective. When you had chosen the book, you had expected to enter the world already working as a personal assistant, but you had a sneaking suspicion that this was the job interview and all the people sat with you were competition.

To confirm your suspicion, you opened the folder on your lap, and yep, it was filled with important documents, including your CV, degree certificate, and several references. Damn, for someone decently young, you seemed to be the perfect candidate. That did relieve some of the tension. The world was literally set up to push you into the role, and you were the perfect candidate, surely there was nothing to worry about. For now, you decided to try and relax. Job interviews were a pain in the ass, but this one hopefully wouldn’t be too bad. And you could always talk to James to pass the time.

‘James, I know you must be thinking something along the lines of, ‘what kind of human picks a life where they have a job, when they could choose to not have a job?’’

‘I have never had such a thought.’

‘But I’m playing the long game, James,’ you continued, ignoring her response. ‘This Hatake guy must be rolling in it, and so once we’re serious, there would be no reason for me to work anymore! And it’s not like we’d get divorced in an erotica novel, that wouldn’t make sense, so I just need this job to meet him, make him fall in love with me, and then, if I stay here, I’ll have a fancy CEO husband, and everything will work out great.’

‘I see. I believe humans term that strategy, ‘gold digging’.’

You were planning to argue back, but your outrage died on your lips when you realised that she was kind of right. You were only going to choose this omega if you actually loved him, of course, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you had chosen this book in the first place was the money and possibility of a cushy life. And being able to retain access to the internet which was something you’d have to give up for a life with Itachi.

‘What backstory elements are set in stone here?’ you asked, realising that the amnesia trick wasn’t going to work a second time.

‘Primarily your qualifications and educational history. You also own both a flat and a car, although how you obtained those is up to you.’

Nice, that gave you a lot of freedom to work with. Also… was your flat nice? And what about your car? You hoped so, but even if they weren’t, you could get Hatake to pay for a nice upgrade.

A man with a clipboard walked out of the office door to your left and everyone in your vicinity snapped to attention. He had brown hair and intense, dark eyes that were a little unnerving. “The interviews for the personal assistant job have now begun. You will be called up one at a time. Ren Shimomura.”

The man who had given you a strange look earlier got up and walked into the office with a confident smile, his briefcase swinging gently by his side. When the door closed behind him, everyone relaxed a little and went back to their pointless busy tasks.

‘So, James, what can I expect from this job interview?’ you asked. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared, even if the universe was going to intervene for your success.

‘That question is more difficult to answer than you might think, human. Despite this pocket dimension being one of the most popular in the erotica category, no one has ever successfully passed the interview and obtained the personal assistant job.’

Your stomach dropped. What? That couldn’t be right, could it?

You laughed nervously, sure that you had misheard. ‘What? Surely the universe needs the person to get the job.’

‘Yes, it has been causing quite the issue. This world has been scheduled for removal for being too difficult to follow. You will be the last person from your realm to ever enter this one, whether you decide to stay or not.’

‘Thanks for warning me before I picked it,’ you ‘said’, your mental voice taking on a tinge of bitterness. So, you were pretty much doomed to failure here? Great.

‘I didn’t warn you, human.’

‘I know.’

Your mental conversation ended as the door to the office opened and the man, Ren, stormed out, looking like he was holding back angry tears. He exited the room swiftly, without so much of a glance back.

That certainly didn’t make you feel any better about your chances.

Neither did your name being called seconds later.

The man with the clipboard smiled at you as you stood, folder in hand. “Just in there, Mr. Hatake is waiting for you.”

You nodded and approached the door. Right, this was fine. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself of your situation. You didn’t need this job. You wouldn’t run out of money without it, you wouldn’t get blacklisted or arrested if something went wrong, you couldn’t die if something went very wrong. The very worst-case scenario was that you bungled this, spent the next two weeks enjoying some alone time in this world, and then returned to your beautiful witch.

So, really, what reason did you have to be nervous?

With that in mind, you took a fortifying breath and walked into the office with your head held high. This CEO couldn’t scare you.

The design of the office was much the same as the waiting room, with a monochrome colour scheme and minimal furniture. The entire back wall was glass, which bathed the office in natural light, but cast shadows around the impressive desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk was an imposing desk chair that was currently faced away from you. The back of the chair was so high that you couldn’t technically tell if Hatake was sitting in it or not. In front of the desk was a much less impressive desk chair; presumably that chair was for you.

You walked towards your chair, marvelling at how cliché the whole ‘tall chair spin reveal’ thing was. What was he, a Bond villain? The main question though, was if he’d also be accidentally flashing his nipples at you. You stifled a laugh imagining a scary CEO turning around in his chair only for the buttons on his shirt to come flying off.

“Did I say that you could sit down?” The voice came from the highbacked chair, which was still facing away from you.

The CEO’s voice was hot, you couldn’t deny that, but his attitude was already ugly. What kind of high and mighty asshole spoke to people like that? Were you supposed to just stay standing until he offered the seat when he couldn’t even be bothered to face you? Fuck that.

Suddenly, what was remaining of your nervousness bled out of you, replaced by annoyance. Honestly, you had already accepted that you weren’t going to get this job or this omega as soon as James had explained the situation, but maybe you could still get something out of this. Like catharsis. You could berate Hatake on behalf of every shitty boss you couldn’t berate in the past and then this world would still be worth it.

“Unless you’re suffering from short term memory loss, there’s no need for me to answer that question.”

Finally, that seems to goad him into turning around. The chair swivelled, revealing Kakashi Hatake in all his glory. He was dressed in the exact kind of suit you expected for someone like him, expertly tailored, incredibly expensive, and in a tasteful blue colour. Just peeking out from his collar you noticed some clear scent patches, and you imagined you’d find the same ones on his wrists. He had grey-silver hair styled in a way that must have required a significant amount of hair wax, and equally grey eyes, one of which had a vertical scar running through it. He even had a frankly adorable beauty mark, what the fuck.

Fine. He was hot. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.

The look he was giving you was somehow both disparaging and uninterested, like he was looking at a badly painted wall.

“Why do you want this job?” he asked, voice bored and condescending. “You don’t seem like you’d be particularly good at it.”

You grit your teeth at his blatant disrespect, “Jobs provide the money which can be exchanged for goods and services required to facilitate survival, you see. Perhaps the silver spoon in your mouth prevented you from learning that dichotomy.” You missed your witch.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He held out a hand, and you wordlessly passed him your folder of documents. You were honestly surprised that he hadn’t just kicked you out already. His motivations became clear however, when he picked out your CV, ripped it in half, and then tossed it in the bin.

This asshole! You were furious.

Hatake pressed a button on a raised box on his desk and began to speak into it, presumably to dismiss you and ask for the next person to be sent in.

You didn’t need this job, you couldn’t get into any meaningful trouble, and this man was royally pissing you off. Something in you just snapped.

“Tenzou, send—”

You grabbed him by his boring, blue tie and stood, pulling him partially over the desk and towards you. He gasped in surprise, letting go of the button as both hands flew up to grab your wrist. You expected him to immediately pull you off him, but he didn’t. He was still, staring at you with wide eyes. For the first time since you’d walked into his office, it felt like he was properly looking at you.

“I am the best fucking personal assistant out of any of those people out there, and I will not have some bratty CEO talk down to me, understood?”

“I’ll call security,” he said quietly, voice strangely hoarse.

“Don’t bother.” You let him go and he fell back heavily into his ridiculous chair.

“Senpai?” The clipboard man’s voice floated through the speaker on the black box. “Is everything okay? You cut out.”

The man didn’t reply to the message, he only stared at you. His face was blank, but you had the feeling that there was a lot going on inside his head.

‘Remember the story, human.’

For a moment, you thought James was encouraging you to play nice for the sake of the story, but then you realised that she meant. Fuck, that’s right, Kakashi Hatake was a secret submissive. He was probably very turned on and very confused right now. You sent him a cocky grin.

“The job starts Monday, yes?” He nodded, dumbly. “I’ll see you then, 08:00 sharp. All my documents are in the folder.” You walked to the door confidently, and just as you reached it, you turned. “Have a good day, sir.”

You opened the door just as the clipboard man tried to do the same on the other side. You paid neither him nor any of the other candidates any mind, you just strode towards the exit, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

The fresh air and sun hit you as you stepped outside into the office’s car park.

‘James, oh my god, I grabbed him by his tie.’

‘I saw, human, it was very unexpected. No other human has attempted such a method.’

‘I would so be blacklisted if this were real, James. Did… Did I do a good job? It felt like I did at the time, playing up to his submissive side, but now I just feel like I was crazy and there’s no way he’d give me the job.’

‘Only time will tell, human, I do not have the answers.’

‘Time… I can do that.’ You gazed out over the sea of cars, all shimmering in the sun. ‘Now, James, which car is mine?’

…

Once you had successfully found your nicer than expected car, you headed to your mysterious flat. It took longer than you thought, but at least you’d learnt some more about James; she was terrible at giving directions and did not know what a roundabout was.

Your flat, much like your car, was nicer than you expected for a recent graduate that worked as a personal assistant. It was stylish and cosy, with lots of wood tones and warm, textured fabrics. It could have fallen out of an interior design magazine, right down to the perfectly placed bowls of fruit. The flat even had a guest room and a home office.

You were going to put this one down to porn logic again and figure out some sort of explanation for why you had the money for this in your backstory.

After doing some snooping around the flat, you flopped down on your bed, feeling strangely exhausted. You pulled out your phone (and how strange it was to have modern technology back!) and checked the date. It was Friday lunch time, and you didn’t have to go to the job, presuming you even got it, until Monday. That meant you had an entire weekend to do what you wanted. That was the best news you’d heard all day.

‘James, is the entire world, I guess, loaded, for want of a better word? Like, theoretically, if I travelled across the world to a random village, would the people there be real? Does the world function outside of the story?’

‘Once you choose to remain in a world, it functions exactly like the one you came from, yes, complete with up to billions of people who each have their own lives. Not everything is ah, loaded, in this demo though. I would recommend staying firmly within this city for the time being.”

‘Amazing! That’s so exciting, James!’

‘If you say so.’

Alongside modern technology, staying in this world would also give you more chance to travel. With Itachi, you would be mostly going on foot, perhaps on a horse if you were lucky, but here you could be on the other side of the world in a day.

That was for future you to weigh up though, right now you needed to find a bank statement of some kind, because you wanted to spend this weekend pampering yourself and you needed to know your budget. You could think about Kakashi Hatake and this world later, once you had your thoughts in order.

The weekend passed in a blur of bubble baths, food delivery apps, and films. You’d even gone for a dip in your complex’s pool. It had been nice to recharge. You had enjoyed spending time with Itachi immensely, but you’d had almost no proper alone time for over half a month, and it was sorely needed.

The only other thing of note happened on Saturday, when you received an email from Hatake’s company, which contained your new company account and login details.

…

Walking into work on Monday was a surreal feeling that you couldn’t put into words. No one acted like anything strange had happened. You were treated like a normal new hire, which you suspected meant Hatake had kept the details of your interview to himself.

Speaking of Hatake, he was apparently in meetings all morning and so you wouldn’t see him for a few hours. You didn’t know if you were irritated or relieved that your likely awkward reunion would be postponed.

“So, here is Kakashi’s calendar, which kind of functions like the core of your job,” Iruka, the man who was training you, said. “You’ll be in charge of organising his appointments and commitments and reminding him to attend them.” The last part was added with a tone that suggested Hatake had not always been the best at either being on time or showing up at all.

“Got it. No double bookings, and smack Hatake with a ruler if he tries to escape.”

Iruka snorted, but quickly smothered the laugh with a hand. “Pretty much. For today, I’ve gone through your inbox and marked the emails that require appointments as urgent. You just need to schedule them and add them to his calendar. It’s pretty busy at the moment because of the Autumn Company Party at the end of the month, so don’t worry if everything’s a bit much. My desk is over there, so you can ask for help at any time, okay?”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” You grinned at him, and he smiled back.

“Good luck!” With that he was gone. That wasn’t the first time the Autumn Company Party had come up, but you still weren’t sure what that had to do with the plot of his pocket dimension. It certainly wasn’t as straight forward as ‘collect the potion ingredients’.

‘James, what’s the deal with this party? What’s going to happen at it?’

‘There are many, many ways the event can play out, human. Seeing that you are the first to make it past the interview, I cannot even tell you which outcomes are most likely.’

‘Damn. Well, thanks anyway.’

You ended up whizzing through your work. It was incredibly simple, which could have been because they were taking it easy on you for your first day, or because work in general was easier in porn universes. You finished before Hatake was freed from his morning meetings, so you decided to do a little googling on your new boss. As such a high-profile CEO, you were sure you could find some information on him.

You put his name into the search bar and scrolled through the top results.

There were mostly news articles and links to the company websites, but eventually his Wikipedia page popped up and you clicked on it, skimming down the paragraphs immediately. Your eyebrows kept rising up as you read. His father, the original founder of the company had committed suicide when Kakashi was four years old, leaving him an orphan. He had been immediately added to the company’s board of directors (at four years old?!), and when he’d turned eighteen and those overseeing the company didn’t seem keen to pass it back to him, Kakashi had staged a business coup and seized control by force.

Jeez, what a life story.

Closing the Wikipedia page, you opened a couple of articles instead. One was a gossip magazine speculating on his famous bachelorhood and why he hadn’t settled down yet. Another was talking about the large donations he had made to several dog and animal welfare charities. The third was just a listicle of pictures of him from various point throughout his life. Ha. He looked like he was such a cute, grumpy kid.

You had to admit that his character was perfectly set up to redeem him for being an asshole at your first meeting. Dead parents, a tragic backstory, betrayal from those supposed to look after him, an animal lover… You bet that he had been forced to supress his emotions to avoid being manipulated as a child, too. That was about as stereotypical as you could get. Were he a fictional character, his fans would easily excuse any rudeness and ruthlessly defend him online. And that was fine, but they weren’t the ones who had to be on the receiving end of his rudeness.

Ugh, you didn’t know what to do with him. On one hand, you were happy ignoring him for being mean to you in your interview, but on the other, you kind of wanted to get to know him to see what the story was about. Maybe you’d put in a bit of effort as a show of good faith, but if he insisted on rebuffing you, you’d give up and find some other way to enjoy yourself. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

Dog lovers were your weakness, so you couldn’t give up on him completely, not just yet.

You closed the tabs and, checking the time, you realised you still had some leeway before Hatake was free. You needed to come up with your backstory sharpish, because you didn’t have amnesia this time, and people would likely start asking questions about you once lunch hit. Best get your story straight first.

You grabbed a post-it note and jotted down your favourite acronym, MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness), to keep you on target.  

Loving parents, you definitely wanted those. Were they the ones you wanted funding your lifestyle? Hmm, no, how about a rich, eccentric aunt that sent money all the time? Yes, you’d always wanted a fun, rich uncle or aunt to spoil you. Perhaps she had been the one to buy you the house and car. You jotted it all down. You also crafted yourself two best friends and a couple of hobbies, just to enrich your life. As per James’ instructions, you left the academic stuff alone.

“Am I paying you to write details about your own life on post it notes?” A sudden voice from behind made you jump, smacking your knees on the underside of the desk with a bang.

You laughed awkwardly as you came face to face with the man of the hour, Kakashi Hatake, who had chosen a charcoal grey suit for today, giving him an overall monochrome vibe that matched the office building. He was staring at your post it note, unimpressed.

You snatched the note and put it in your pocket. Quick, find some way to change the subject!

“I’ve updated your calendar with more meetings and commitments. This afternoon you only have a phone call with a representative from a company that sells… custom dog bandanas?” You decided not to question it. “The rest of the afternoon is business as usual.”

He watched you for a moment before he nodded, and turned to enter his office door, which was only a few feet from your desk.

“Just so you know,” he said, turning to look at you over his shoulder, “more work is periodically added to your task list, you just need to refresh the page.”

The door slammed shut behind him. You made a frustrated noise. He was so rude, with his annoyingly hot face and perfect voice. God, he got on your nerves like no one else. Ugh, you already regretted deciding to give him a chance.

You refreshed the task list and watched it fill up with new tasks.

Why did you pick a world where you had a job again? Oh yeah, you were playing the long game. The long game sucked.

You spent the rest of the workday completing tasks and flip flopping on whether it was worth trying to chase the plot and romance Hatake. Instinctually you led towards no, but when you remembered how he’d responded to you in the interview, you wavered. Ultimately, your curiosity was too much to resist, so you hatched a plan to spend some time with him.

…

“Did you have someone sneak you lunch through the window, or have you not eaten yet today?” you asked, waltzing into Hatake’s office at exactly 17:05, coat and bag ready to leave.

Hatake finished whatever he was writing before putting down the pen and giving you a flat look. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, and I’m certain I told you to knock before coming in.”

“Firstly, the workday ended five minutes ago so you’re not the boss of me anymore. Secondly, that was the clearest no I’ve ever heard. You should make time to eat lunch, you know, it’s good for you.”

“If you don’t have anything of use to say, then leave.” Ugh, why were you dealing with this asshole again?

“Actually, I do.” He raised an eyebrow at you, like he was already dismissing your message. “Get dinner with me.”

That actually seemed to catch him off guard, if only for a moment. You had honestly been wondering if the side of him you glimpsed in your interview was some kind of hallucination, but there was a flicker of that same man now. Unfortunately, although you could see that, you could also see the moment he shut down the reaction and returned to his flat, impassive stare.

“I’m busy this evening—”

“I already moved your appointment to tomorrow morning.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. You didn’t know if it was irritation at your messing with his schedule or at interrupting him, but you did know that you were getting on his nerves. Good.

“And I suppose, if you’re inviting me, then you’re paying?” he challenged. “Fair warning, I have expensive taste.”

‘James, quick, what’s the best restaurant in the area?’

‘Kakashi Hatake often visits a restaurant about two miles from here, called La Liaison. It’s French, and incredibly pricy.’

Right, you tried to remember what you’d seen you your bank details. You could definitely afford one fancy meal; it was affording everything else after that that was the problem.

Hatake’s smug face at your hesitation spurred you on. You wracked your brain for some kind of solution.

‘James, if I decide that my rich aunt sends me large lump sums of money every month, will my bank account automatically replenish by the end of this demo?’

‘Technically, yes, although it will only happen if you choose this dimension permanently, as your rich aunt does not yet exist. You must also remember to speak or write any information you want to be true for it to take effect.’

Perfect. You could wipe that smug look off Hatake’s face, live a bit more frugally for the rest of the demo, and if for some unknown reason you chose to stay here, you’d have your money automatically replenished. You just had to remember to write the details down after dinner tonight.

“Of course, it’ll be my treat,” you smiled, tips tight. “Do you like French food? I heard La Liaison is lovely.”

Kakashi studied you for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. Just as you thought you’d won the little verbal exchange, Hatake sent you a mocking eye smile. “And how are you planning on gaining a reservation at such short notice? The next available evening bookings are for two months from now.”

You tensed up like you’d been dealt a physical blow. Fuck, you forgot about bookings. There was no way you could allow him to win just like that, though. You took a deep breath, porn logic, I believe in you, please help me out, I’m trying to woo him, just as you wanted. Kind of.

“I’m sure it will all work out!” You voice was artificially chipper, and you could tell that Hatake was picking up on your anxiety. “Come on, what’s the harm? Let’s go!”

He watched you evenly. That was one thing you’d noticed about Hatake; he always thought before he spoke, choosing each action and word carefully. It made sense once you considered his childhood and was equal parts sad and irritating.

Just when you thought he was about to refuse and dismiss you, Hatake chuckled and stood, closing his computer and grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his ridiculously dramatic desk chair.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drop us off,” he said, walking to the door. You followed, kind of stunned that he had agreed at all. He locked the office door behind him. “There’s no parking available at this time of day in the town centre.”

You walked through the office side by side, watching your coworkers pack up or work late.

Everyone noticed you two, armed with bags and coats that made it obvious you were leaving together. There were gasps, there was gossiping, there were whispers. The man with the clipboard, who had introduced himself to you as Yamato, looked like he had seen a ghost. Was it really that strange to see this CEO leave work on time, or was it because he was with you?

Hatake paid them no mind, and you tried to do the same.

It was strange that he agreed to join you, but you didn’t get your hopes up that this meant he suddenly liked you. It was more likely that he was coming in order to force your hand. If you were humiliated by there being no tables, or not being able to afford the food you said you could, it would likely stop you from bothering him outside of work again.

You just really, really hoped there would somehow be a table.

Once you arrived at the car park, there was a sleek, black car waiting for you. You weren’t sure if Hatake had somehow called ahead without you noticing, or if his car was already ready for him, but it was very convenient. If the chauffeur was surprised that Hatake had a guest, he didn’t mention it.

The car was so obviously expensive that you felt a little uncomfortable sitting in it. You had never been so conscious of your hand placement in your life. The brat of a CEO didn’t seem to have the same problem, relaxing easily against the leather, looking right at home. He gave the driver the name of the restaurant, and you were off.

You took a moment to beg the pocket dimension that somehow you would be able to get a seat. ‘Porn logic, I’ve always loved and respected you, please pull through for me, just this once! I won’t be able to handle Hatake’s smug grin without punching him in the face.’

‘My name is James, human, and I cannot control these pocket dimensions.’

You snorted, ‘I wasn’t speaking to you James, sorry.’

“What’s so funny?” Hatake asked, breaking the silence. Oh, you had laughed out loud; you had to stop doing that. Were you also doing it when you were with Itachi, but there were just fewer people around to comment on it? Itachi seemed like the sort who would take a lot of weirdness in stride.

“Your face.”

Hatake let out an amused breath, “Are you always so childish?”

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

“Approximately five minutes until arrival, sir,” the chauffeur said, speaking through a speaker that connected the front and back sections of the car.

“Just Kakashi is fine,” he sighed. “I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

“If you say so, sir.” Hatake rolled his eyes but dropped the issue.

The final five minutes passed it silence.

…

La Liaison was a small modern building nestled at the very end of the high street, decorated in pastel blue and covered in artificial ivy. The whole building exuded a timeless elegance that made you glad your work dress code was formal. Stepping through the doors, you were welcomed by warm lighting, live piano music, and an impeccably dressed host. This was the exact kind of place you could see Hatake fitting right in.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to La Liaison. Can I take the name on your reservation, please?”

You could practically feel the amusement radiating off the smug asshole behind you as you were faced with the exact situation he had predicted. You just had to go for it. You believed in the porn logic!

(And if it didn’t work you were going to return to your flat with your tail between your legs, make James pull you out of this dimension early, and then ask Itachi for a potion that could remove memories instead of bringing them back.)

“Ah, well, we don’t technically have a reservation, but an acquaintance of mine mentioned that they just had to cancel theirs, so we were hoping there’d be a free table.”

Please work, please work, please work.

The two seconds between your request and the host’s response felt like an agonising eternity. Failure wasn’t an option; you couldn’t lose to your awful boss.

The relief you felt when the host’s face melted into a smile almost knocked you to your knees.

“Is that so? Yes, I just got off the phone with them, you’re lucky no one else has claimed the table yet. If you’ll pass my college your coats, I’ll take you to your table.”

Yes, yes, yes!! You loved porn logic so much. It seemed like anything was fair game as long as it pushed you and Mr. Smug together. Speaking of Mr. Smug, you mouthed ‘I told you so’, as you walked to your table. He did not respond.

The table was, unsurprisingly, very romantic. It was secluded away in the corner, pressed up against a window and yet sectioned from the rest of the restaurant by a divider. The table sat two people, and its white tablecloth was covered in candles and rose petals. Of course, the cancelled reservation was for a romantic date. You weren’t going to complain though; a table was a table.

You both sat down. You briefly debated pulling out the chair for Hatake, but you decided against it at the last minute. You were both handed menus and informed of the soup of the day before the waiter left you in peace. The illusion of privacy helped you relax, despite the stuffy atmosphere.

“An acquaintance, huh?” Kakashi asked, unfolding his napkin and laying it over his lap. He obviously didn’t believe your lie.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly annoying?” you said, instead of answering his question.

“Once or twice.”

“Well then,” you shot him a sarcastic smile, “I’m glad you have such honest people in your life.”

“As am I.” The eye smile he sent you this time seemed more genuine, and you had to hold back your laugh.

The conversation faded for a moment as the background chatter from the rest of the restaurant filled the space. It was weird to be here with him, and maybe you were still riding the high of getting a table, but you were already enjoying yourself.

“So… you come here often?” you asked, picking up the menu. You supressed a wince at the prices. “It seems like you’re right at home.”

“It makes for a convenient location to dazzle those who demand such treatment before they’ll sign anything.”

“Ugh, so this is where you take people to schmooze them? Gross.” You flipped over the menu to find the drinks section, only to belatedly realise that the drinks had their own menu already on the table. “I can’t imagine you doing that successfully; you’re so rude.”

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.”

The way he reused your words from earlier reluctantly brought a smile to your face. Okay fine. Fine! You’d admit that he was witty, and you had some good chemistry. And he was hot. But that was it! That didn’t mean you were going to fall in love with someone so annoying!

‘I believe you were also interested in his love for dogs, human alpha.’

‘James, I’m trying to live in denial here, and you’re ruining it.’

‘My apologies. Does that mean that I should also refrain from mentioning your obvious obsession with his beauty mark?’

Sometimes, you weren’t sure that James wasn’t an elaborate troll.

Scanning the menu, you decided the vegetarian pasta looked nice. And if it was also the cheapest thing on the menu, well that was just a coincidence. This better be one of the best meals of your life.

Kakashi left his menu completely untouched. Right, he’d been here countless of times to charm people into signing away their money. He was probably treating this dinner as something similar, but with you wanting something from him instead. You doubted he’d believe you if you said you were doing this out of curiosity. But the questioned remained, how could you make this feel different for him?

Suddenly, it hit you; he liked when other people took control. You had an idea.

‘James, can you tell me what Kakashi normally orders from here?’

‘He always orders one of the seafood dishes, accompanied by a white wine.’

Right. Perfect. What you were about to do would be so out of order in real life, but you had plot armour, and honestly you wanted to see what would happen.

When the waiter returned, he directed his, “Are you ready to order?”, towards Kakashi. He probably recognised him if he was a regular, and figured he was schmoozing another hapless soul.

That didn’t fit what you had in mind though.

“Yes, we are,” you said confidently, before Kakashi could speak. “We’ll have a bottle of the Chateau Sixtine Blanc and some still water for the table. For food, I’ll have the vegetarian pasta, and he’ll have the Coquilles Saint-Jacques.”

Kakashi’s stare was intense, but he didn’t intervene. The waiter seemed taken aback that you were ordering for the table, but when Kakashi made no move to dispute what you’d said, he nodded, collected your menus, and left. You expected to be admonished in some way, but Kakashi remained silent.

Drinks arrived quickly. The waiter poured you both a glass of the wine and some water before he was gone again. Kakashi picked up the wine glasses and swirled it dramatically before taking a sip.

When he spoke, you had expected a question about how you found out his usual order, or perhaps a comment on the wine, but no, instead, he was his usual blunt self.

“I wonder what it is you’re hoping to gain from this.”

“That’s fine, you can wonder all you like.”

He sent you a measured look, “Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly annoying?”

You grinned, “Nope!”

“I see. Well, I hope you’ll be blessed with some honest people in your life soon, I’ve found having them around to be extraordinarily helpful.”

You snorted mid sip of wine, which probably didn’t look attractive. Coughing, you looked up, expecting a judgemental look for behaving such a way in a fancy restaurant, but Kakashi just looked amused.

“Can I ask you a question?” You dabbed your lips with your napkin to soak up any stray wine drops. “What was the deal with that interview? It didn’t seem like you even wanted any applicants there. Was it just some weird form of employment hazing?”

“Simple. I didn’t want an assistant; I work better alone.”

“Then why hold the interview at all?”

“The board of directors were very… persistent. I knew they’d only shut up if I scared off every personal assistant in the city.”

You sent him a searching look, “But you hired me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “You had comedy value.”

Comedy value!? This dick.

“Liar,” you shot back. “You just think I’m hot, admit it.”

You got another one of his infuriating eye smiles. “If you say so.” God, you wanted to punch him, and maybe kiss him. Fuck.

“Whatever, just know that it’s your turn to pay for dinner next time, an I’m ordering the most expensive thing I can find.”

“If we go out for dinner too often, people will talk.”

“As if they aren’t already,” you said, referencing the sate of the office you’d left behind. You’d bet that they’d all stayed late to swap theories. “Yamato looked at us like a child who’d just walked in on his parents having sex.”

Kakashi seemed amused, “He would not appreciate that description.”

“That doesn’t make it any less true.”

As the conversation flowed, so did the wine. You were surprised by how much fun you were having. Hatake was a great conversationalist and the rapid-fire banter had you laughing out loud more than once. The food was just as good as you’d hoped as well.

To your utter delight, Hatake’s face turned pink as he drank. So cute. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to feel the warm skin. Kakashi leaned into the hand in an almost nuzzle. You did not expect him to reciprocate. Shocked, you froze, hand still on his cheek.

Hatake seemed surprised too because he suddenly wrenched himself away from you. You pulled your hand back like it’d been burnt.

You’d bet anything that he was touch starved.

“Sorry, Hatake, I don’t know why I—”

“Kakashi,” he muttered, “you can call me Kakashi. Everyone does.”

“Kakashi,” you repeated, sending him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. You kind of wanted to lick his face.

Kakashi’s phone buzzed in his pocket, shattering the moment. Disappointingly, he immediately slipped it out of his pocket and checked the message.  You weren’t exactly surprised that he put checking his phone over your conversation, but it was still rude, whether you expected it or not.

Kakashi made an amused noise as he saw the expression on your face. “I only have audible notifications on for important people; I’m just checking to make sure nothing is wrong, there’s no need to look so offended.”

You sputtered, face heating up, “I’m not offended! I was just thinking it was rude to check your phone at dinner.”

“Ruder than ordering for someone else without their permission?”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. “You liked it.”

Kakashi didn’t acknowledge you as he checked his messaged. You watched his eyes move from side to side as he read, before he eventually barked out a laugh and put the phone away.

“What’s funny?”

“One of my friends evidently found out that I was out to dinner. He has wished us luck on our youthful endeavours.”

You pulled a face at the weird phrasing. “He sounds… interesting.”

“You have no idea,” Kakashi said before emptying his wine glass.

“People seem so surprised about this. You don’t get out much then?”

Kakashi barked a laugh that sounded surprisingly bitter, and then didn’t elaborate. In true erotica love interest fashion, there was something brewing below the surface. Touch starved, orphaned, rich, but lonely, he was about as stereotypical as it got. You wondered if he’d also killed someone like Itachi? Hmm, probably not. This was a modern universe, and there were normally more severe consequences for things like that. It would have at least been mentioned on his wiki page.

By the time you had finished eating, the city outside the window had lit up in the darkness. The traffic had died down once rush hour ended, but the occasional car still passed by. You checked your phone and realised you’d been having dinner with Kakashi for almost two hours.

Your pride didn’t stop you from admitting that the time was flying because you were having fun.

Still, it was getting late, so you waved down a waiter and requested the bill. You were hoping that, seeing as you’d taken charge with ordering, that he would… yes! The waiter put the bill down in front of you instead of Kakashi.

You grinned at him smugly; you’d been assigned dom by wait staff.

He rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the smile on his face.

The bill wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. Clearly you hadn’t managed to keep your grimace supressed completely though because Kakashi noticed.

“Having second thoughts?” He was annoyingly observant.

You had never pulled out your card faster, grateful that you’d found your pin number written down in some old documents in your flat. Kakashi watched you pay, a strange glint in his eyes.

Did he assume you were going to dine and dash and make him pay or something? No… that wasn’t it. His ears had gone red too, and not from the alcohol.

He liked it, you realised gleefully. He liked that you ordered for him. He liked that you paid for him. He liked that you had decided on the place and time and dragged him along. It fit his reaction and it fit his character.

You were certain that most of his acquaintances either saw Kakashi as some kind of aloof, ‘didn’t believe in love’ character, or as a hard dom. And on the surface, sure, you could understand why they thought that, but how could anyone continue to think so once they spoke to him properly, when he was practically crying out for someone to take care of him?

Exhilaration ran through you. Maybe you were in this for more than just curiosity now.

“Come on,” you said, standing. “It’s getting late, and I still need to get my car—Shoot, I’m probably over the limit. I guess it’s a taxi for me then.”

“I can drop you home.” Kakashi stood as well, and you both walked to collect your coats. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Thanks,” you said relieved. You needed to at least try to budget after the amount you just spent on dinner.

Just as you were putting on your coats, Kakashi’s phone ran in his pocket. Remembering what he said about only having important people on vibrate, you remained silent as he took the call. You couldn’t quite make out the murmurs on the other side of the call, but Kakashi didn’t look pleased.

“Right… Okay… And there’s no alternate route? Of course… It can’t be helped, just meet me at the office.”

Did he have a last-minute work obligation perhaps?

“Yes, okay, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. “Bad news, there’s been a minor accident on the road and my driver can’t get to us. We can get through on the pedestrian pathways just fine, so we’ll have to go back to the office on foot.”

“Oh, that’s not a big deal, it’s only about twenty minutes, right?” You didn’t understand why he seemed so serious about a minor hold up. Did he think you were going to be mad at him or something? Kakashi relaxed imperceptibly as it became clear that you didn’t mind.

It only occurred to you later, once you were well into the walk, that Kakashi was used to schmoozing a bunch of hoity toity rich people at La Liaison who probably would throw a fit at such a minor inconvenience. Those kinds of people were the worst.

“Why did you ask me to dinner tonight?” Kakashi asked. He spoke casually, but in a way that suggested the casualness was being used to disguise a more serious question.

You knew that he wouldn’t stop until he got an answer that satisfied him, and you didn’t want your relationship to be stained by doubts as to your intentions, so you decided to give him an answer as close to the truth as possible. If you started talking about erotic fiction, he’d probably call some kind of doctor.

“Because you seemed miserable, and I was curious about you. Figured this would kill two birds with one stone. Also, you piss me off, I won’t lie.”

“You took me to dinner because I piss you off?” Kakashi asked, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Is that some kind of fetish or is it a psychological defect?”

You squawked indignantly and tried to hit him on the arm. He dodged it, laughing.

“You’re one to talk! You hired me after I grabbed you by the tie in a job interview. That’s got to be a fetish and a psychological defect!” You shoved him on the shoulder, and he immediately shoved you back, and before you knew it, you were having a children’s battle on the street.

A random woman from across the street gave you a dirty look, you stuck your tongue out at her. Kakashi giggled, like, actually giggled, and that sent you into hysterics.

Maybe you’d had more to drink than you thought.

“You know,” you said, throwing your arm over his shoulder, “next time I take you out, we’re going to McDonald’s. It’s cheaper, and I think it’ll be funny to watch you sit there in your suit. Wait, have you ever been to a McDonald’s before?”

“I’m wealthy, I’m not an alien.” He rolled his eyes at you. He seemed to do that a lot. You couldn’t imagine him sitting in a McDonald’s. “I go every other week because my dogs like the carrot sticks from there.”

“You feed your dogs carrot sticks from McDonald’s?”

“Yep.”

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, buying a pack of carrots?”

“No, because they like the ones from McDonald’s.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Rich people were crazy. “How many dogs do you have anyway?”

“Eight.”

“EIGHT?!”

…

Car parks at night, familiar or not, were unnerving in the way that liminal spaces always were. At least you were almost at the office doors, where Kakashi’s chauffeur was going to pick you both up. You were glad to finally get there, because as fun as the walk had been, the Autumn night was surprisingly chilly, and it was taking genuine effort to remember all of Kakashi’s dogs’ names. You were honestly surprised that the porn logic didn’t add any strange occurrences on the walk.

Naturally, the second that thought formed in your head, something happened.

As you passed round the side of a tall fence, your shirt got caught on a stray piece of metal. What would have been a minor inconvenience, barely a rip, in your old reality, was a complete pornographic disaster in this one, as every button on your shirt somehow ripped off, leaving your shirt hanging open.

The cold air hit your skin and goosebumps erupted all over your chest. Yelping, you dragged the pieces of shirt back together and held them firmly closed. Obviously, you weren’t fast enough to stop Kakashi from getting a look. The way he was pointedly looking away from you, rosy cheeked, said it all.

“Stupid fence,” you grumbled, giving it a dirty look. This wasn’t exactly the first time, or even the coldest time, that porn logic had decided to spontaneously strip someone, but it always managed to catch you off guard. Did the people who lived in erotica worlds always carry spare changes of clothes just in case?

“Are you hurt?” Kakashi asked. He sounded a little awkward, but ultimately sincere. It was nice that he’d decided to go for genuine concern over sarcasm, and you decided to do the same.

“I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise. At least it’s dark so no one caught an eye full.”

Kakashi coughed. Okay, no one apart from him.

“I’ll send a message to maintenance in the morning, but for now, I have a spare shirt in my office that you’re welcome to borrow for the evening.”

Huh, what do you know, people did keep spare clothes around. You were about to decline, citing the late hour and the fact that you were wearing a coat that you could do up, when you realised what was happening. You’d bet anything that something sexy would happen if you followed him up to his office.

“That would be great, thanks.” You weren’t going to let this slide from your grip when he was so pretty. And honestly, he was starting to seem like less of an asshole in general. He was fun, traumatised, and had eight dogs, if that wasn’t your type, you didn’t know what was.

…

Flickering the lights on in his office, Kakashi went into one of the cupboards to look for the shirt while you snooped at the ornaments he had on his shelves. Notably, there were no pictures. You picked up a weird ceramic circle statue and turned it over to see if it did anything cool.

You had passed a security guard on the way up to Kakashi’s office, that looked very intrigued as to why you two were together so late, and why your shirt was ripped open, so you resigned yourself to the rumour mill only getting worse by tomorrow.

“Are you nosy by nature or just interested in my office in particular?”

“Shut up.” You put back the ornament and turned to face him. He was holding the spare shirt in his hand. “You want to fuck me so bad, don’t deny it.”

You expected another eye roll.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he growled, watching you intensely. Oh, that wasn’t an eye roll.

One moment you were staring at him, unsure of what to say, and the next, you were crashing together, lips, tongue, and teeth, in a horny and aggressive kiss. You didn’t know which one of you moved first, you didn’t really care, you only knew that Kakashi was hot and infuriating, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t make that smug face anymore.

Kissing Kakashi was giving you whiplash. He was different to Itachi in every way you could think of. He was confident, aggressive, he fought with you, clashed with you, and he seemed to determined to kiss you twice as hard as you kissed him.

It was obvious that Kakashi’s submission wouldn’t be freely given like Itachi’s, no, you would have to earn it. The challenge scratched at your instincts, and suddenly you wanted to prove to this omega that he could trust you. A good orgasm should lay the groundwork for that.

Both coats were quickly discarded as you kissed, and your ruined shirt fell off moments later.

You had been consciously avoiding his hair in fear of the amount of wax you figured he used to keep that hair style, but one weak moment, as Kakashi’s hips jolted forwards towards yours, you forgot, and ran you fingers through it.

To your surprise, your fingers glided through the soft strands easily. You were so shocked that you broke the kiss. You furrowed your eyebrows as you examined his hair.

“What are you doing?” he panted, confused.

“How the fuck does your hair stay up like that without any hairspray or wax?”

“What?” He sounded baffled. “This is just what my hair looks like. Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

The kiss resumed, somehow more desperate and aggressive than before. Kakashi grabbed your waist so hard that you could feel the pin pricks from his nails digging into your skin. In return, you made use of your new found knowledge and grabbed a handful of Kakashi’s hair.

You pushed him backwards, never once breaking the rhythm of your kiss, until his upper thighs made contact with the front of his desk. His pot of pens fell as the desk jolted, scattering the expensive pens all over the ground. Neither of you paid it any mind.

When you finally pulled away for air, Kakashi wasted no time, immediately latching onto your neck with reckless abandon. There was something feral about him that was making you hot. He didn’t hold back. You could tell that he was experienced, and he was using every drop of that experience to his advantage.

While he was distracted, you worked on undoing his buttons. It was harder than it looked to remain focused while Kakashi was doing his best impression of a vampire on your neck.

“You have way too many fucking buttons on this shirt.”

“It’s a normal number of buttons,” he murmured against your skin.

“There is literally nothing normal about you.”

“And you say I’m the rude one.”

“That’s because you fucking are.”

Eventually, you managed to undo the last button. Your noise of triumph morphed into a moan as Kakashi nipped around your collar bone. You used his hair to tug him back before loosening his tie and pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

The way his torso looked, bare but with a loose tie hanging over it, unlocked a kink you didn’t know you had. In fact, everything about him was hot. As you dragged the shirt down his arms, you could feel his muscles flexing. Kakashi was strong and broad, and he wore it so well.

You didn’t bother pulling the shirt off all the way, instead letting it bunch at his wrists, acting as a semi-restraint. He tugged at it experimentally, and when he found it restricting his movement, his pupils dilated.

You cooed as you ran your hands all over his naked torse. That’s right, he was a forceful person, certainly, but any shows of dominance were likely performative or learnt behaviours, because this man was a giant sub at heart.

You grabbed his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled it lightly. Kakashi growled at you, but you knew what he was doing; he wasn’t telling you to stop, he was challenging you. You growled back, stronger, louder, and just as you thought, his growling stopped, and his scent took on a delicious hint of submission.

“God, you really are annoyingly hot,” you growled, biting along his jaw. “Emphasis on annoying.”

“Takes one to know one,” he fired back, squeezing your waits.

“Mutual handjob?” you whispered against his skin, already undoing his trousers, before doing the same with yours.

“That the first intelligent thing you’ve said all night.”

“Fuck you.”

You grabbed Kakashi’s muscular thighs and lifted him slightly until he was perched on his desk. A stack of papers tipped over and fluttered to the ground, but that wasn’t a problem for present you, so you happily ignored the chaos in favour of the panting omega in front of you.

You took your dick out from your pants and did the same for Kakashi. They bumped up against each other, searingly hot and unflinchingly hard. You let out a whistle of appreciation at his cock. It was big, bigger than most alphas you’d met, and certainly bigger than any omega’s cock you’d ever seen. In fact, just eyeballing it, he was roughly the same size as you. His shaft was as pale as the rest of him, but the head was an angry red. It was girthy too, and it felt hot and solid in your palm.

Purposefully, you thrust your hips forward, guiding your cock against his with both of your hands. Kakashi moaned, thrusting up to meet you. He could only watch, his hands restrained as they were.

You kept your hands around the dicks, keeping them aligned as you both started to rut against each other. Beads of pre cum quickly made their appearance, which only made everything else feel that much better.

There was something deeply satisfying about what you were doing, especially because you were both still half-dressed. It made it feel desperate, like you couldn’t wait long enough to get your clothes off, too desperately attracted to each other, and had instead chosen to rub off on each other like horny teenagers.

You made out messily while you grinded against each other. Maintaining a consistent pace was a little difficult, especially as things got wetter and wetter, but you managed. There was something sexy about the chaos. The increased sensitivity from being in the erotica world didn’t hurt either.

Your moans and groans increased in frequency as you got closer. If felt like every nerve ending you had was on fire, and Kakashi looked much like you felt, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that was obvious under the hard corporate lighting.

Technically, with it being so bright inside and so dark outside, anyone who happened to glance up would have got a glimpse of you, but you were both too far gone to care.

“You love having someone take control of you, don’t you Kakashi,” you moaned, pressing your lips against his. “You’re tired of always being in control, aren’t you? The big CEO, everyone’s relying on you, but who do you get to rely on? Who looks after you? You want someone to do that, don’t you? You’re a walking, talking CEO stereotype.”

“Who says I’m going to give control to you?” he panted, licking his lips. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“Hmm, nope, I think I’m right on track,” you teased. Already picking up on his proclivity for biting, you gave a bite in return, just shy of where a mating mark might theoretically go. Kakashi gasped, his hands straining at the shirt that restrained them. “I’ll get you to submit to me properly, one day.”

“We’ll see.”

The alcohol and the increased sensitivity were mixing together to make this tryst shorter than expected, but Kakashi seemed to be in the same boat, so you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The banter ceased as the final stretch towards your orgasms started.

As your ending approached, you bent down and sealed your lips with Kakashi’s once more. Suddenly, everything crested, and pleasure flowed over you in waves. Your thrusts got sloppy, but neither of you cared. Kakashi came with a guttural moan. His stomach muscles flexing in a hypnotic dance.

The extra cum afforded by the porn logic soaked both your dicks and your hands, staining both pairs of trousers too. It dripped onto the carpet, and if the security guard didn’t spread a rumour about you and Kakashi hooking up, one of the cleaners probably would.

Some of Kakashi’s cum had even landed on the spare shirt, so you now had a choice between a torn shirt, or one covered in cum to match your stained trousers. Great. Why did horny you always make such bad decisions?

You and Kakashi remained leaning against each other for a while, just catching your breaths and marvelling at how fast your relationship had move. You wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told you during your interview that you’d end up grinding on that asshole’s desk a few days later.

‘I would have believed it.’

‘Thanks, James.’

Kakashi opened his mouth to speak, but the door to his office suddenly opened, cutting him off. You both stiffened, snapping up to face the intruder like a pair of deer in headlights.

There, standing in the doorway with the expression of a man who was entirely done with life, was Kakashi’s chauffeur. Instead of an apology of any kind, the man just sighed.

“The car is downstairs when you are ready. Please try and clean up before getting in, the leather won’t forget these kinds of smells easily.” With that, he left, shutting the door firmly behind him.

You and Kakashi looked at each other, then to the door, and then to each other, before you both burst out laughing.

What a way to end the night.

Next Chapter

#the quest for a second life #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #alpha!reader #alpha reader #omega!kakashi #omega kakashi #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha x omega #gn reader #sub kakashi #sub!kakashi #dom!reader #dom reader #n-sfw #reader insert

[fuckmyskywalker]

🕯️🧺 w anakin? plz? 🥺❤️

Prompt: 🕯️ "You weren’t supposed to hear that.” | 🧺 Stepcest. — Anakin Skywalker.

CW: 18+, smut!. stepcest, dub-con/non-con (reader is drunk and under other substances, they don't explicitly say yes but they don't say no either so). Anakin is quite violent in here, and mean, and a bitch. Dirty talk, Oral sex (m), struggling with feelings, Anakin is an idiot tbh but he is my filthy, pervert idiot. | Word count: 2.9k (...somebody kill me.)

a/n: This is so disgustingly delicious I couldn't help myself, sorry. It was supposed to be a short drabble but ended up being almost 3k of pure filth.

His feet tap the rug of the living room anxiously; Anakin knows he should stay away from all this, lock himself in his bedroom, and jack off before bed. 

But as usual, his thoughts are even more complicated than that, he is caught between a situation that he isn’t sure has a positive outcome or even one for that matter. It’s the same conflict he has been going through ever since his wonderful mother had the great idea to marry your awesome dad who treated her as she deserved and welcomed Anakin as his son. But that wasn’t the problem.

It was you.

Anakin wanted you, so bad it burned his skin and chained his heart to a cold wall of self-restraint. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept repeating to himself every night he heard you in the adjacent room, moaning softly under your own caresses and all he could do was rub his uncomfortable erection to at least ease some of the yearning. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept whispering in the shower, closing his eyes to not see his hands squeezing your bottle of shampoo and consuming his sanity in the sweet scent of strawberry shortcake, relishing in the calmness your characteristic smell brings him. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept saying in the solitude of the obscure living room, waiting for you to come back from whatever fucking party you decided to sneak out that night.

It was easier to mask his desires and sinful lusts for you under a coat of anger. Always snapping at you, yelling, pushing you away. Anakin found that nasty attitude as an effective coping mechanism. For a while. You suddenly stopped talking to him, searching for his friendship or a simple common ground so you two could be in the same room without screaming and throwing insults at each other until either his mother or your father had to step in.

Neither of them tried to interfere unless things got heavily verbal and one time, physical. They both concluded it was only the edge of getting used to this new dynamic. You and Anakin just need more time to grow accustomed to each other’s presence, that’s it. Plus, Shmi didn’t feel entitled to scold you, and your father was never good at dealing with “women’s emotions”.

Deep down, Anakin was feeling guilty, and he, much like your father, wasn't good at dealing with others’ emotions, less alone his. He never tried to apologize either, which perhaps was why he was doing this. Aside from that repetitive statement of “this is wrong”, he tries to swallow his guilt and add to the mix a hint of “this is how I show my worry for her”. Which, if being brutally honest, was a pretty shitty way of doing so. Glancing at the digital clock on the fireplace, his anxious tapping gets stronger, it is almost 3:30 am. He hesitates, should he call you? Would you even pick up the phone? Should he just drop this whole act off and go to bed? Anakin feels too tired to even masturbate, or too angry, it doesn’t matter. The thoughts and “what ifs” begin to drown him, and if there is something that the unstable bastard is, is an overthinker. 

As luck would have it, his head snaps up when he hears the front door click open softly, followed by a muffled giggle. He stands up slowly, careful not to make a single noise. Are you alone? He hopes you are. The idea of seeing you with someone else twists his stomach with jealousy, quickly followed by that familiar wave of guilt. He has no right over you, that is a fact, and yet he forces himself to look over it, using the poor, sick excuse of being your stepbrother to worry about you; Even if his worry is translated into being a bitch, spying your every movement, and fucking his fist to the thought of you. 

He sees you stumbling through the front door, clicking the latch with what appears to be shaky fingers. Anakin remains silent as he scoots closer to you, resting on the frame of the arch that leads from the living room to the hallway that connects with the front door and the kitchen. You fail to notice his presence, too busy struggling to keep both feet on the floor as your heels hang from your right hand and your purse on your left. The tiniest bit of relief travels through his veins, at least you are alone. You walk past Anakin, but he doesn’t let you wander more than three steps. 

“Had a fun time? He asks in a sarcastic, dry tone. Cold blue eyes scan you up and down unashamedly, taking notice of how revealing and tight your outfit looks. 

With a loud gasp you turn around in a split second, your eyes widen and your mouth contorts into an expression of shock and drunken panic, Anakin predicts your scream and sprints towards you clasping a hand over your mouth and pushing you against the nearest wall. If he was upset before now he is fuming. “Shut the fuck up” He whispers against your face, his hot breath fanning over your nose. Up close Anakin notices how your eyes are droopy, puffy, and red. “If you wake them up I won’t save your ass”

You try to push him away but to no avail, Anakin is stronger than you, and your drunken state completely eats up your stability. Your head shakes side to side trying to remove his hand from your mouth but it only makes him push it harder until your lips begin to feel numb. “Where were you?” He asks, towering right in front of you in a frightening yet… arousing way. “And what the fuck is that outfit?” 

It’s rather ironic how your stepbrother keeps interrogating you but also takes away your ability to talk— You let go of your heels that fall to the wood floor with a muted sound, trying to push him away with your palm against his chest. 

Which apparently infuriates Anakin further. “Keep your hands off me, who knows where they’ve been” He hisses and slaps your hand away and pins it to your side with frustrated force.  “Were you with someone?” Anakin hisses, so close to your face you can see how deep his eyes are. You never recall they were such a pretty shade of blue. 

You shake your head at his last question, the only verbal indication you can give. His shoulders seem to relax the tiniest bit just to return to his usual tense shape. “Don’t fucking lie to me” He warns you and spits your name in a venomous way that should hurt your feelings and bring tears to your eyes. You shake your head again this time more desperately, this is the closest he had ever been to you ever since your father married his mother and it’s borderline scary. “You smell like a damn distillery, fucking disgusting” 

Instead of pushing him again, you raise your knee to hit his hip, your goal was his crotch but you missed by a lot. Anakin grunts in pain and lets go of your mouth for a second letting you take a heavy, desperate breath. Your body feels dizzy and sweaty and it’s all because of him. The altercation only lasts a few seconds and you don’t even reach the first stair before Anakin yanks your hair and slams your body back to a wall.

“Let go of me—” You whine with little conviction. “Get the fuck off Anakin I—” Your voice isn’t a plea, it’s an irritated complaint that makes you focus on everything else besides the burning ache that is beginning to form in between your legs at the tussle between your stepsibling. You expect his hand to clasp over your mouth again and the little self-consciousness left in your mind decides to bite his palm if he does so—

But instead, his lips crash over yours messily, punching all the air from your lungs. Your body reacts faster than your mind and the first thought that swirls in your hazed head is: His tongue tastes like heaven. Anakin quietly grunts at the strong flavor of liqueur and cheap cigarettes that fills his senses, pushing his hips forward basically rubbing his half-hard cock against your hip. Using his grip on your hair he yanks your head upwards so his lips can attack your jaw and neck, rapt in your heavy panting. Anakin’s knee finds a comfortable spot between your thighs, rubbing the sharp bone over against your needy core. Your body jolts slightly and you mewl into the cold air of the staircase hallway. You want to touch him, run your hands through his hair, cup his beautiful face, embrace this sick, prohibited feeling— but the emotional grip he was on you is doing its job. You can’t seem to find the strength to move a single muscle, melting into a wordless puddle for the person who you were supposed to hate.

Anakin’s knee picks up an acceptable pace forcing you to move your hips involuntarily to relieve some of the ache. You couldn’t remember when was the last time you were this wet, and even if you wanted to— it would’ve been impossible. He leaves wet, lewd kisses over your neck before sucking and biting your skin, ravishing you as if you were his prey, and perhaps you were. Anakin’s hand which isn’t gripping at your hair so hard your scalp is burning, squeezes your hip with the same brutal, appealing force. 

“You don’t have any idea how bad I want you” Anakin breathes against your neck, his voice lingering with that dangerous edge, mixed with what appears to be compassion, but not for you, for himself.— or even emotion. “You get under my damn skin, you make me lose my damn mind” His white teeth are like a threat, sinking into every inch of skin available, marking you. 

To care? You don’t have it in you. Probably not even if you were sober. Your mind struggles to come up with a reply, the ocean you are swimming in has everything except guilt, which was burning Anakin’s soul. “I know…” You whispered weakly, pushing your hips forwards and biting your lip to choke a moan at how good it felt to be humping your stepbrother’s knee. “I heard you jacking last month— you moaned my name” It was a miracle you could even build the sentence together, your voice was slurred and broken, but Anakin understood every word.

He curses under his breath, and the surprising sight of his flushed, red cheeks seems to break your drunk trance for a moment. Anakin hides his face in your shoulder, resting his forehead on the muscle. “You weren’t supposed to hear that” He mutters, it feels humiliating, but the simple act of unintentional humiliation makes his cock twitch inside his grey sweats. 

“I did”

“Shut up”

“I liked it”

Anakin’s head snaps upwards, meeting your half-lidded eyes. He wants to believe you. The doubt flies around his head: He is not used to having what he wants— Why would you be the exception? Is this his chance to be greedy and take the only thing he has been craving for months now? Is this how Eve felt when the Devil offered her the forbidden fruit? 

Are you his forbidden fruit?

Is this the way out from Eden?

It was too much. 

Lowering his knee he glares at your discontented groan, placing both hands on your shoulders and forcing you to kneel. The intention is clear, and it doesn’t take you long to pick it up. Your shaky hands fumble with the little bow on his swears but Anakin just pushes them away, muttering something about ‘how stupidly drunk you are you can’t even do something for yourself’. What is also not a surprise, is the lack of underwear— but what it is— is his cock. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of it, completely hard right in front of your face. Swallowing, you allow him to guide the tip to your open, awaiting mouth. The first touch is like touching heaven, or hell— Your warm tongue swirls over the sensitive head tasting the salty precum, wondering what could you do to be able to savor him again. Anakin places his large hand on the back of your head fighting the urge to push you all the way in. He is trying to be nice, at least a little. Although, it seems like you have other plans; He is bigger than other guys you’ve seen, not massive but certainly above average. Perhaps big enough that you can see the outline on your lower stomach if he fucks you. Sliding a couple more inches inside your wet mouth you roll your eyes at the way Anakin’s breath hitches and how his hips push forwards the slightest bit.

The wonderful weight of his cock on your tongue is hypnotizing, and you waste no time bobbing your head back and forth, sliding a bit more of his cock after a couple of minutes. Raising your eyes, you find Anakin staring directly at you, his blue irises dilated and almost glowing in a predatory manner. 

His breathless chuckle catches you off guard. “You must be a slut if you suck cock this good.” It’s a double-edged compliment, either way, it feels good. You whine around his dick making him hiss in pleasure, biting his lower lip to keep the noises down. He can only imagine the catastrophic consequences if his mother (or your father) wakes up and finds his son’s cock buried in his stepsibling’s throat. “Fuck— I wish I could have you on your knees all day…” 

You try to nod at the idea, it sounds great— it fucking does. The struggle for air starts to hit you, and the lustful haze replaces the alcohol haze in your head and bloodstream— You are no longer drunk in cheap tequila, vodka, and whatever the fuck was in that igloo; no, you are drunk in his cock, his scent, his voice, in him. 

You decide to go big, because well, you already are home. Deepthroating him rewards you with a delightful moan, not loud enough to bounce over the walls of the first floor but enough for you to pick it up and moan as an aftereffect. Your throat contracts around his hard cock and Anakin is a dead man. The little restraint he had left breaks and the next thing you feel is your head banging against the wall to keep you in place as he fucks your face. His hips thrust on and on, your gags and chokes sobs only spurring him further. Your nails dig into his thighs and his balls graze against your chin with every frantic snap. Anakin is painting, sweating, sinning. 

If this was the forbidden fruit, could he blame Eve at all? 

Your tears, your smeared makeup, the drool that trickles down your chin is like a work of art. Anakin thinks you look beautiful, but it isn’t enough. The muted pounding of the back of your skull against the wall shouldn’t be as erotic as you register it, forcing your mouth open, letting him use you, ruin you, own you in the nastiest way possible. 

Anakin’s release comes without warning. His cock twitches inside your mouth and some thick, hot ropes of cum slide down your throat before he moved out of the warm paradise that your mouth was to paint your face with his cum. He exhales shakily, stroking the base to make sure everything is out and on you. The thick globe of cum that slides down your cheek reaches the corner of your lips and you stick your tongue to catch it, making Anakin squeeze his eyes close and wipe the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand.

The silence is everything but tense, it even feels comforting; as if all the words that you two wanted to scream were now said— in such a carnal, animalistic way. Anakin’s hands are gentle as he helps you get up, giving you the time you need to calm yourself and settle the unsteadiness of your legs. His arm wraps itself around your waist, trying so badly not to look at your cum-stained face in order to not get hard again. 

“Sorry,” He whispers as the familiar sensation of guilt makes itself present and commences to weigh his shoulders down. His nose scratches your shoulder, and every negative thought begins to swirl inside his mind. 

“Don’t be” You reply, trying to smile but you are too tired to even do it.

The clock ticks 4:12 am.

“Is it wrong if I say I love you?” Anakin’s voice is searing with regret, what has he done? The martyrdom rings inside his chest, constricting it and echoing like big, golden bells. 

“I don’t know” Your answer is sincere. You blink some tears away, wiping some of his lukewarm cum away from your face, it’s beginning to dry up. “But I love you too, so, if it’s wrong…”

He knows what you are implying. 

The clock ticks 4:16 am when he helps you undress and wipes your face with a makeup remover wipe. Anakin helps you get dressed, noticing your pajama top was an old t-shirt that belongs to him, a piece of clothing he simply imagined he lost in the washer machine. His lips are soft when he tucks you in bed. You smile at him tiredly, kissing him back.

No more words were needed.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn’t my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya answers! #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skwalker #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #stepbrother!anakin #stepbrother!Anakin Skywalker

[cupid-styles]

puppy

Y/N has always wanted to have a threesome, and Harry is always willing to give her whatever she wants.

Word count: 3.7k

Content warnings: SMUT!!!! 18+. Like, literally just smut without plot. I wrote this as part of a longer series I abandoned and figured this was still fun enough to post!

Anyway, this is a FMF threesome with daddy kink, dirty talk, pet play, some anal, dom/dom/sub dynamics, some degrading vibes, a lil cum play. I need to take a cold shower. Enjoy!!

I wasn't entirely sure how I ended up in this position. 

Harry and I had talked about our sexual experiences a few times. We both preferred to keep our sexualities unlabeled and had had many hookups and flings with people of all types of genders and identities.

We exchanged stories about realizing that we weren't straight, and talked about the first times we kissed or had sex with someone of the same gender. It was freeing, I think, for him to be able to express that side of himself.

He said that his friends knew, but always felt a little uncomfortable talking to them about it. I was happy to provide a safe space for him, especially if it meant we could be more open with one another.

Because of our fluid identities, we'd had some conversations about potentially having a threesome, or even inviting another couple entirely. We were both on the same page about it — that we'd prefer it to happen organically instead of planning it out, which made me feel nervous.

Harry had had a few threesomes before, but I never had. In fact, I never even had a partner who was as open and understanding as he was, and when he said that he wanted me to safely explore and have any experience I wanted, my knees buckled. I knew that a threesome was something that I'd always been interested in, and I most certainly wanted it to happen with Harry and another girl.

It just so happened that Ash, a friend of a friend from nights out together, seemed to be equally interested. 

We were friendly with Ash, but we didn't really know anything about her, which made her a good candidate — we wouldn't see her in our friend group all the time, and it was a no-strings-attached type of deal. It obviously helped that she was attractive and flirty, with long hair, pretty tattoos, and nipple piercings that always showed through her tee-shirts. 

So, when Harry noticed Ash and I being flirty and touchy at the bar that evening, he pulled me aside. I had expected him to be jealous and possessive but instead, he proposed inviting Ash to join us for a night.

"Y'can say no if you want, puppy," he mumbled, his thumb finding my bottom lip as he searched my eyes for a semblance of my feelings towards his question. He gently flicked my lip, making me pout, which always made him smile. "Jus' figured that you two were getting along so well, and I know you think she's pretty, so it could be fun."

"Yes," I had breathed out, nodding, feeling like a bobblehead at my immediate affirmative answer. I didn't have to think long before I started envisioning it — Ash's lips on mine while Harry's hands wandered my body, her soft fingers as a contrast to Harry's more calloused, rough ones. "Yes. I want that."

"Yeah?" Harry smirked, "Y'want me to ask her, or do you?" 

From there, it all just kind of... happened. The three of us had a few more drinks at the bar — I needed at least one more to get me feeling floaty and confident, but not enough to the point where I was teetering on drunk — before we headed back to Ash's apartment since it was the closest. I was silently grateful for that. I trusted Ash and Harry, and I trusted the situation, but I didn't want to always think of her whenever I laid in Harry's bed.

On the walk back, I started to feel a little bolder. The mood was definitely starting to settle in between us, and fizzles of excitement popped amidst us as we each tried to predict what would happen first. It was just a matter of time before one of us broke, tearing down the walls and giving into the thick sexual tension. 

My hand was tightly clasped around Harry's as we entered Ash's place. We were both quiet as we politely slipped off our shoes as she gave us a small tour. 

"Y'doing okay?" Harry asked, peering down at me. Ash looked at me with concerned eyes, and I appreciated that they both wanted to make sure that I was still feeling safe and interested. Though, with the fact that they both were looking at me like that, it was clear that I had unintentionally assumed a submissive role in the dynamic, making my core warm. 

"Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "Are... are you guys still doing okay?" 

Harry smiled and nodded, a dimple popping out of his right cheek. Ash stepped towards us and intertwined her fingers with mine so that now I was holding both of their hands. 

"Do you guys have a safe word?" she asked, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Just in case any of us wanna stop at any point, no questions asked."

"We'll just go with red," Harry spoke, answering for me. "That okay, puppy?" 

I nodded my head and looked up at him, then back to Ash. 

"Puppy, hm?" Ash smirked, wandering her hand to the back of my neck, squeezing gently. "Are you gonna be our good pup tonight, sweetheart?" 

My mouth went dry and Harry squeezed my hand, as if he was urging me to answer. I was starting to feel overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. I began to feel wetness pooling in my panties at the domineering tone of Ash's voice. 

"Go on, angel," Harry encouraged, his other hand finding the small of my back. "Don't you wanna be good tonight?"

"Yes," I swallowed, blinking owlishly. "Yes, I wanna be good for you both." 

"That's sweet," Ash murmured. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth as her head angled towards mine. "Can I kiss you, puppy? Is that okay?" 

I looked up at Harry. We hadn't exactly discussed limits before going into this, so I wasn't sure what was appropriate and what wasn't. Harry smiled gently at my submissiveness, and I could tell that he was pleased I wanted his permission before I answered. 

"You can kiss her if you want," he said, tapping my butt gently. "'s fine, baby, I can tell that you want to. You're nearly drooling over it."

My cheeks warmed up in embarrassment and Ash snickered, waiting for me to make the first move. I leaned forward to close the gap between us, pressing my lips against her soft ones. She was eager in her movements, but I didn't mind it. She licked over my bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore my mouth, which I quickly granted. I felt Harry's arm wrap around my waist, pressing me closer to his body as our tongues licked at each other. My core was starting to ache, and I was surprised at how turned on I'd gotten in such a short period of time. Apparently, it didn't take much with these two. 

Ash was the first to break apart, and she smirked at my spit covered lips. She pressed her thumb against my bottom lip, tapping it once, and I opened my mouth, allowing her to push it against my tongue. I closed my lips, sucking gently on her thumb. 

"Pretty girl," she mumbled, flickering her gaze to Harry. "Does she always look this sweet when she's sucking your cock?"

I felt myself flush at her words. Harry's dirty talk always got me off quicker than anything else, and Ash's was no exception. 

"Mhmm," Harry hummed, brushing my hair behind my ear as he watched me. Ash pushed her thumb further into my mouth, gently testing the waters of how far I could go. When she got to the tip of my throat, drool started to leak out of the sides of my mouth, making her coo. 

"Look at that," Harry whispered, wiping away the spit steadily leaking down my chin. "Such a good fucking girl. Bet you're all wet down there already, hm? We've barely even touched you yet and you're gagging for her fingers." 

I nodded submissively and Ash smirked, removing her fingers from my mouth. She grabbed our hands and guided us to her bedroom. Harry laid back on the white bedding and pulled me into his chest, Ash automatically finding her way between my legs. They moved so quickly that it made my head spin, but I was so excited and thankful that the teasing seemed to come to an end.

"Is he right, puppy?" Ash asked as she leaned forward to unbutton my jeans, gently pulling the zipper down. Harry helped to shimmy them off my hips and down my legs. "Have you already made a mess in these pretty little panties?" 

I glanced down at the sheer pink underwear covering my bottom half. I was grateful that I'd gone with something cuter today, complete with pretty lace detailing and a bow. 

"Answer her, puppy," Harry said. "Use your words."

"Y-yes," I spoke up, clenching my thighs together. 

"Can I see?" Ash asked as she lifted her tee-shirt, leaving her in a lacy black bralette, "Ask your daddy if I can get a look between this thighs."

I swallowed and looked up at Harry, who's pupils were already blown out. I felt his cock harden from beneath me and I bit my lip, his hand squeezing my hip. 

"Can she look, daddy?" 

"Jesus Christ," Harry mumbled, hooking his fingers beneath my underwear. "Yeah, baby, she can look."

Ash smirked and lowered down to her knees. She pushed the strip of fabric covering my modesty to the side and I nearly moaned at the way she gently blew against my pussy lips, then used her fingers to separate them, revealing my clit. 

"What a pretty pink pussy," she murmured, leaning forward to kitten lick my clit. I gasped and Harry gave my hip another squeeze, a wordless demand to stay still. Ash's movements were slow and deliberate. It was suddenly clear that she wasn't done teasing me — in fact, when her lips wrapped around my clit to gently suck at it, I felt my hole clench around nothing, making her giggle. 

"Aw, you want something to fill you up?" she asked teasingly, making my eyes nearly roll back, "I'm sure your daddy is just dying to see how messy you've gotten down here." 

Harry nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. 

"Would it be okay if he helped me, puppy?" Ash murmured, her fingertips circling my hole, making me clench again. "I think we both wanna see your sweet pussy cum."

"Please," I immediately gasped out, my hand reaching out to grab Harry's, squeezing it. 

"Ask politely, pup." Harry said curtly, adjusting himself below me. He was undoubtedly growing uncomfortable with his cock quickly swelling in his trousers. 

"Please make me cum," I said, biting down on my lip as I felt Ash's fingers lightly trail up and down my pussy, "I want it so bad. Please help make me cum, daddy." 

Harry smirked at that. He pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek and nodded, untucking himself from beneath me and sinking down to his knees next to Ash. 

"Oh," Harry peeped out once he looked between his legs. His hand gripped my left thigh while Ash's fingers kept me spread open. I felt slightly embarrassed at having them stare at me, but I was too overwhelmed to say anything. 

"Pretty, hm?" Ash muttered, her thumb finding my clit and rubbing it small circles. 

"Gorgeous," Harry breathed out, allowing his own finger to brush against my hole. He watched it flutter and I moaned out, wordlessly begging for more. 

"Can we make you feel good, baby?" He asked, looking up at me. I sat up on my elbows and nodded quickly, feeling my chest and neck flush. 

"Yes, please."

I was grateful that they were finally done with their teasing, because I didn't have time to breathe before Ash's lips wrapped back around my clit. She sucked harshly as Harry slowly pushed his finger inside, curling it upwards to brush up against my g-spot. 

"Fuck," I sighed out, squirming beneath their grasp. They each had a hand wrapped around me, with Ash's nails digging into my hip and Harry's fingers splayed over my thigh. I loved the way Harry made me feel, but there was something about having two pairs of hands on me that pushed me over the edge. 

Harry steadily pumped his finger inside of me, stretching me out slightly before adding in a second. His fingertips pushed up against the soft spot inside of me while Ash's tongue moved quickly, alternating between flutters and sucks. I felt her moan against me and I sat back up, looking down to see Harry grabbing her ass, giving it a harsh smack. My eyes widened and he slapped her ass again, staring back at me with a smirk. Ash whimpered again, pushing her ass out further against his palm. 

"Thought my puppy here was the only slut, but it seems like we have two," he mumbled, give her other ass cheek a swift slap. I was surprised when I felt myself get wetter at the sight of Harry touching another girl, but feeling Ash groan out against my clit was only pushing me closer to my orgasm. "Hm? Is that right, angel? Daddy's little slut, yeah? Gon' cum for us?" 

I nodded quickly, my jaw falling slack as he smacked her ass again, continuing his assault on the spongy spot inside of me. Ash moaned out once more before I came, pushing my hips down against her mouth to create more friction as my hole pulsed around Harry's fingers. 

"Pretty fuckin' pussy," Harry muttered, withdrawing his fingers to lick them clean. I shivered at his words and Ash placed a kiss to my pussy lips before crawling up my body. She hovered over me and pressed her lips against mine, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I groaned at the taste and wrapped my fingers around her torso to unhook her bra. She sat up to allow me and smirked when my eyes instantly shot down to the silver bars in her nipples. She moved upwards a bit, then lowered her breast into my mouth, encasing my tongue around her nipple. 

"Shit," Ash mumbled, lolling her head to the side. Her hand came up to fondle her other breast, tweaking her nipple slightly. I switched to the other, biting at it gently, making her squeal. 

When I looked up, Harry had ditched his pants and was palming himself through his briefs. I could only imagine how painfully hard he was, and I wrapped my arms around Ash's hips, motioning for her to move up. 

"Can I taste you?" I asked, my eyes finding hers. She still had her skirt on, but I was too eager to even think about anything else but making her cum on my tongue. 

"Yeah, bunny. You've been so good," she murmured. Her hand dipped below her skirt and pushed her panties to the side, and she whimpered as she slowly circled her clit. "Want me to ride your face while daddy fucks your sweet pussy?" 

I nodded quickly and glanced over at Harry. His jaw was slack as he watched me, and I knew he was waiting to see a glimpse of me eating Ash's pussy. 

"Fuck me, daddy," I whined, licking a long stripe up Ash's pussy, eliciting a moan from her lips. "Please?" 

"Whatever you want, puppy," Harry said, quickly ditching his briefs and positioning himself over my lower half. I heard him pumping his cock, which was undoubtedly slick with pre-cum. I felt him nudge at my hole, which was still slightly sensitive from my previous orgasm, but still welcomed him, especially when I heard the lengthy groan tumble from his lips when he bottomed out. As he slowly started to build up a pace, I moaned against Ash's pussy, trying to keep my focus as my tongue darted in and out of her. 

"Fuck, your cock looks so good fucking her," Ash mumbled out. Her hands found my tits and she squeezed over my bra, slowly testing out the waters as she began to ride my tongue. 

"Mhm, mhm!" I whimpered out, the sensations quickly becoming overwhelming again. I could feel Ash's pussy clenching over my tongue and I reached up to circle her clit, using my fingertips to press against the pearl. Between her taste on my mouth and Harry thrusting in and out of me, I was beginning to unravel again. 

"You're gonna make me fuckin' cum," Ash sighed, picking up the pace on my tongue, "Rub my clit faster, puppy, y'can do it." 

"Make her cum, sweetheart," Harry slurred out, his fingers finding my own clit. "Be a good girl for us and make Ash cum all over your tongue." 

I moaned loudly and rubbed at her clit faster, just as she instructed. I listened to her chants of "just like that, baby", looking up to watch her come undone. Her head fell back as I felt her hole clenching violently, her swollen clit slick with her juices and my spit. 

"Shit!" She exclaimed. "Fuck, what a good mouth." 

I heard her let out a sigh as she dismounted, laying down next to me to give me a kiss. Her tongues danced together but Harry's thrusting caused me to moan into her mouth, making Ash smirk. 

"Talk to him," Ash instructed, trailing her fingers over her breasts and back down to her pussy. "Is he fucking you good, pup?" 

"Yes," I whimpered, my pussy gushing as I felt his balls smack my ass. "'M gonna cum again, daddy." 

Harry smirked, his fingers pressing harder against my clit. "What do you need, angel?" 

I couldn't even think with the way my core was winding up so tightly. Feeling Harry's cock so deep inside me and watching Ash touch herself made me speechless, my brain going fuzzy at the sensations around me. 

"Aw, are you all cockdumb, puppy?" Ash teased, flipping onto her side and lifting her leg up, allowing us both to see her finger herself. "Your daddy asked you what you need. Are you gonna answer him?" 

"I— I need more," I slurred out, my eyes fluttering. 

"More?" Ash asked, her eyebrow quirked. Harry nodded, quickly understanding and pulled out, tapping my ass. 

"All fours, sweetheart," he instructed. I scrambled to get onto my elbows, pressing my face into the pillow and pushing my ass into the air. Harry pushed his slick cock back into my hole and he grunted out, spreading my ass cheeks apart. 

"Oh!" I gasped when I felt him spit down into my asshole, his fingertip circling. 

"A little anal whore too?" Ash asked, shifting on her knees, "You really got lucky with her, hm?" 

I couldn't think as I felt Ash's smaller finger press into my tight hole. My eyes rolled back, spit steadily leaking from my mouth as my pussy clamped around Harry's cock tightly, signaling that I was close. 

"Show her how hard you cum for me, puppy," Harry instructed, continuing his constant assault on my g-spot. I trailed my fingers down my chest and to my pussy, where I found my wet and swollen clit begging for attention. I moaned loudly as I began pressing circles into the pearly nerves, making Ash giggle. 

"So fuckin' desperate, aren't you?" she cooed, a hand — I wasn't sure if it was hers or Harry's — coming down to harshly slap my ass. "Greedy puppy, having your daddy fuck you and some random girl finger your ass. That's all you're good for, hmm? Silly little pillow princess."

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, the knot in my core finally fraying. My limbs let out and I trembled, muscles contracting harshly as my orgasm came over me in intense waves, making me scream a myriad of curses. I heard Ash crooning behind me, encouraging Harry to continue fucking me through it, but my vision went white, my body hot and sweaty. My body flush against the sheets, I felt Harry pull out followed by a spray of warm cum dispersing on my butt. 

I was barely aware of what was going on around me, still twitching and coming down from one of the strongest orgasms I've ever had. I shivered when I felt a wet sensation from behind me — it took me a second to figure it out, but when I heard Harry groan out in sensitivity, I realized it was Ash licking his cum off of my body. 

I whimpered at the feeling of her soft tongue slurping up the liquid. She crawled up to me and I shifted my head, leaning on my side to look at her. She had a smirk on her face and I nodded willingly, knowing what she was looking to do. 

"Open up." Ash mumbled before pressing her lips to mine. It was mere moments before both of our mouths were open, tongues dancing as we swapped Harry's cum between us. I moaned as I swallowed the remaining bit, backing away and licking my lips. 

"You two are trouble," Harry muttered from behind me. Ash let out a giggle and I looked up to see him pulling his briefs on, his tee-shirt from earlier in his hand, the other wrapped protectively around my shoulder.

“Lemme grab you two some water,” Ash said, climbing off the bed. She picked up her shirt from earlier and pulled it on her form. “You can stay the night if you want, there’s a guest room down the hall.”

Harry glanced at me as I bit my lip, “That’s alright, I think we’ll probably grab an Uber and head home.” He replied, grateful that he could read my expressions without a second thought.

"Don't worry about it. Just make sure she gets some aftercare, she's looking a little floaty." Ash murmured, stroking my cheek. I smiled gently, still buzzing from my orgasm. Harry chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his tee-shirt over my body. 

"Was that good, baby?" he asked quietly, running a hand through my messy hair. 

"Mhm. Thank you."

"Anything for you, puppy. Now, let's get you home and in the bath."

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles au #fanfiction #fan fiction #harry styles x reader #love on tour #harry's house #harry styles daddy #fine line

[yuyinesque]

KREIDEPRINZ | “𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝖻𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾.”

⚘ précis. ≡ he was a little curious as to how the female anatomy reacts to arousal; you were the individual that incessantly muddled his mind with this idea. because of this, he managed to charm you into laying you down on his table and taking his fingers in order to conclude a few factors.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ afab!reader; sub!reader x top!albedo, finger-fucking/excessive clit play, overstimulation, implied pussy worshipping, pussy studying, edging, squirting, gentle praise, albedo’s simply playing dumb with you.

⚘ category. ≡ nsft smut drabble/headcanons.

⚘ wc. ≡ 1.5k.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list.

𖤥 The holder of Princeps Cretaceus, mm mm mm… anywayyy — This little chalk-based AI is a little too curious for his own good. I believe that you had to been not only aesthetically interesting to the eye, but have a mind of wisdom in order to have such an obsessive interest towards you. With this mind, it’s only a matter of time before he uses you as both a subject and a partner for his experiments, with your consent, of course, for you have an adoration towards him as well. (Un)fortunately, this only set you up for failure, for he was beginning to wonder how you would look in various positions.

𖤥 Now, I may not know much about Albedo, but I’m sure that an enabler would provoke these said thoughts. This said “enabler” is no other than you, the individual who is incapable of holding back their feelings for someone who could read you like a book, ESPECIALLY because he’s been studying you since you carry such a mysterious intensity within you.

𖤥 Hell, he may be an AI, but because of this he’s beyond stupid. It’s clear at times that you’ve been experiencing arousal, but he was unsure as to if you were experiencing it because of him specifically. Besides, he didn’t want to outwardly just ask without any context. Not only that’s an intimate question, but he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, let alone scare you off, now suffering from rejection. Still, the idea couldn’t be left undiscovered, I fear… Really, this whole thing is not about him studying it because he was clueless, he not only wanted a confirmation, but ponder about how YOU would behave if aroused … like like like like like listen-

𖤥 “I must take into account factors such as your temperature, texture, and contractions per minute after each orgasm,” He would divulge as his pallid fingers plunged deeper into your clenching hole, one that was greedily memorizing the taste of his skin to the point where it was her favorite dessert. His statements were definitely rhetorical and you knew it, seeing as you were incapable of formulating comprehensible words with the way he was finger-fucking you without any reasonable restraint bounding his actions. He was destined to complete his experiment, and he was sure that you were on your thirteenth- fourteenth clench. “As long as I have your approval, I do not believe that I’m overstepping any boundaries. You do agree, right Y/n?”

𖤥 NAAA LEMME COOK? HEAR ME OUT!!!

🧷 𝓗ad you haven’t been in a predicament where you could formulate appropriate thoughts, let alone speech that didn’t involve loud, lecherous blubbers, you would’ve retorted with an impish smile with corresponding titter, seeing as he was simply being careful despite his monotonous tone. It’s merely impossible to strangle out a few words since you were practically hyperventilating from overstimulation; there was quite literally never been a time where you’ve felt this overwhelmed during an experiment. Albedo is very considerate of your safety.

He claims that this would be safe as well: Sketching down a memorable image of your pretty pussy rapaciously contracting for his fingers, though instead he decided to use his fingers to polish your clit with vast zeal, earning a pearlescent drool of cum to cascade from your hole. He noted that he should add a glimmering adaptation to accentuate how the rushing river of cum titillate under the pale LED light, also the image of your fingertips delving into your plush thighs as you attempted to keep them up for as long as possible. Albedo however sighed in misfortune at this observation, especially at the way your thighs palpitated endlessly; there was only a matter of time until your body were to finally give into exhaustion. You were only human, after all. Therefore, he made sure to assert underneath his sketch of you that the three components were completed.

One: Temperature. How hot could it get? Normally the temperature inside the vaginal canal equates to a high fever when not aroused, but how hot does yours get during both stages? Unfortunately, Albedo was unable to determine the temperature during its natural stage, for you were already unbearably drenched before he could even give your pussy the time of day, tainting the steel table with the voracious drooling since she terribly craved him inside of her. He also concluded that utilizing a thermometer during the session would possibly bring down your mood (or heighten it, considering that he also noticed that you’re very fond of edging as much as overstimulation). He wondered if he should ask to take its temperature after he cleans everything up, but it wouldn’t correlate with his initial hypothesis.

Two: Texture. Generally speaking, the inside has an identical texture to the inside of your cheeks but… he still wanted to finalize that it stays that said texture before, during, and after sexual activity. Albedo certainly has definitely used his tongue to poke at the inside of his cheek while curling his fingers deep inside of you, carefully massaging your spot as your squeals sang saccharine tunes, whispering poetic praises that caused your noises to induce and circulate throughout the vast vicinity. As anticipated, the resemblance is there, but your walls were softer, but that could be because of how inundated you are. It was another uncompleted draft that he had to address on another occasion; it was beginning to miff him, though at least you were willing to trust him in one of your most vulnerable states.

Three: Contractions. Would it be too selfish for him to wonder how many times you’ll clench before each orgasm? Surely it was quite the push, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that’ll be the last time the two of you would perform something so intimate, therefore it’s best to have most if not all of his questions answered before departure. Not only has he determined how many times you’ve clenched before each orgasm, also determining that the number accumulates the more you cum, he’s estimated that you’ve contracted much more without his fingers rather than with them. Was it due to your acts of desperation? Yes, of course, that he figured as much, and he found the ideal flattering and promising, or even exciting. He could proudly deem that you were one of his favorite experiments yet, and truly desired more of you in different positions in later references.

And Ideally, Four: En–

“‘Bedo, Beh- ff-uh.. fuckfuckfuckfuck- please!” His train of calculations and concentration was vengefully disrupted by the guinea pig in question: you. The one who sobbed out hardly comprehensible beseeches in hopes Albedo has finally calculated enough data to grant you the opportunity to fucking breathe without hiccuping and choking on saliva. The one whose cum spluttered erotically out of their pussy, their juices acting as a varnish on your tumescent lips in order to preserve such finest chef-d'œuvre, and giving the steel table a shrine that’s never been achieved before. The one whose left leg was occasionally being pried away from their right by the alchemist’s gloved hand, seeing as he couldn’t help but feel selfishly miffed at the fact that they’re incapable of keeping them open for the sake of the hypothesis. However, it’s safe for the two of you that this experiment will require addressment… over a few shots, of course.

“What perfection…” Albedo’s cerulean blooming eyes eased with awe as he watched your writhing body twitch and writhe with each time he thrust his fingers inside you, but even when he decided to slow down a little, you were still too sensitive to inure the overbearing pleasure, therefore he decided to stop altogether by finally retracting his pallid fingers that were submerged with a thick ivory. For a moment he had the intrusive urge to give you a taste, but he already broke one of his promises, which was to go easy on you. “The moons surely favor you, don’t they?”

Your mind was too muddled to even comprehend the fact that he was praising you at the moment; you were still trying to find a way to close your legs without any more exertion, let alone rid the seething pain between them. Surely you weren’t complaining, but you were just as shocked as him. Rarely does he lose himself, especially during something of importance. “Perhaps I was being too edacious… it was never my objective to test your endurance … This was my mistake.”

With a sigh that could only disclose disappointment, he stood up from his chair after using a cloth to wipe his fingers clean. Then, while his expression still mordantly stoic, he gently lifted one of your legs to place them on his shoulder, cautiously wiping you down, squeezing your knee reassuringly when you jolted and whined when he began dapping your numbing clit with the cloth.

“We should conduct this on a later date, I'd say… next week. Certainly after your convalescence.. That way the both of us may conclude how well your body responds to penetration.”

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.

#𖧷 𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 #divider crds : benkeibear #divider crds : gigittamic #albedo genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo x y/n #albedo genshin x reader #genshim impact #genshin imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin albedo #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #albedo genshin fanart #genshin fanart #albedo #albedo kreideprinz #genshin x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin x f!reader #fem reader #genshin mondstadt #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #kreideprinz #the chalk man