#fic: Til I Tasted You

[hua-fei-hua]

hey! i stumbled across you on ao3 through genshin (i think? that was in september i have no idea at this point), went to check out your profile and saw my hero academia works there. i am currently very much into it, so i was like let's gooo sooo I found B♭ and that has been a wild journey.

firstly, i don't have any experience with american school system, so a lot of worldbuilding was new for me. moreover, marching band is something from another universe(aka music lover but never got educated on the matter), so fic constantly challenged me with new details-concepts-vocabulary. stepping outside of your comfort zone while reading? great idea! i think i never learned so much from a fic while enjoying it so much ^^

secondly, i am simply amazed by sheer amount of effort you put into it. i decided to read in publishing order, so non-chronological really impressed me. you're honestly a mastermind being able to pull that off. also, having a song for every chapter with specifically picked out lyrics relevant to the content is so, so cool! the diversity of your playlists should be astonishing, i'm jealous :)

thirdly, the characters are just so real. i love all the canon references, i love the reactions that don't feel exagerrated or too mild. they are acting...exactly as i would expect them to in that circumstances and setting. i just accepted leads' ways of thinking and reflecting so naturally

i also read the extra notes when they were available and just...how much thought is put in is mezmerising. for some reason i never thought pulling directly from your life experiences when writing? but it actually makes a lot of sense and it brought me some ideas to try out so hehe ;)

as i am very smart and hadn't scrolled down on the order post, i didn't see until quite late in the reading that the end of perfect harmony is published as notes, so that was a surprise. i understand your reasons and the fact that you're not even in the fandom anymore, but you mentioned in some extra notes that it's ok to ask for them even if years passed so...here i am three years after, complimenting B♭ :D

anyway, i finished it a couple of days ago, and even the notes are quite detailed. images of described shenanigans popped into my head just like that, and i really appreciate that you published them and i got to know what happened next!!

i actually wondered why were the comments disabled since i really wanted to comment on a few chapters bc your work deserves it so much...but yeah, that's what led me here so i guess congrats, you get my thoughts all nicely packed in one place ^_^

there's probably a lot of specific pieces, details, ideas i liked about B♭, so that is merely a summary of exciting things i remember!

i'll say goodbye using my favourite oneshot title:

thank you for the music ✩°｡⋆⸜(ू｡•ω•｡)

not gonna lie i'm kind of obsessed w/the way you just glossed over the fact that you (probably) found me through my (anonymous) genshin fics, which means you jumped through the (minimum three) hoops required to get here, my (named) fandom blog, and then proceed to gush abt a bnha series i did. like i would assume that if someone put in the effort to find my other fandom fics from my genshin stuff, then there must've been smth really worth looking into w/the genshin stuff lmao

for the sake of my mutuals' dashboards, since this ask is so long i'm just gonna chuck the whole (long) answer under a cut lol

anyway yes Bb!! the amt of effort n planning i put into that series was legitimately insane. i made school schedules for EVERY SINGLE BNHA CHARACTER and PUT IT ON A SPREADSHEET so that i could PLAN WHO COULD WALK WITH WHOM TO THEIR NEXT CLASSES n have PLOT-RELEVANT CONVERSATIONS LIKE THAT. i made little profiles for each of the characters, where i chose their favorite musical key (and why), how many years/instruments they play, and gave them each a funny little quote/catchphrase!!!

what possessed me to do this for ~20 different characters i honestly could not tell you

i definitely loved working on Bb a lot. i remember sitting down three years ago, practically to the day by this point, n hashing out the events of every single chapter to the epilogue, then reorganizing them into a proper timeline (i also kept a calendar in my notes with the chapters in order), all while occasionally looking out my bedroom window n thinking how wonderfully bright n warm n sunny the world was becoming again. bc really, 2019 was a very struggle year for me, n i didn't take the time to appreciate the sunlight then the way i have every year since. from there, i worked off that very strict outline, and most of the note-chapters that were eventually put up are primarily just copy-pasted straight from there.

i remember being on youtube a lot for music recs when working on perfect harmony too!! a bunch of them changed in the years btwn walking away from the series n actually publishing the notes (which were actually published mid-december last year, then backdated to 2020 a few days later ahaha), with a number of the tour arc alternate chapter title songs coming from songs that didn't even exist at the time of the fic's original planning. my mp3 collection grew a lot during the planning phases of Bb lmao.

i'm glad the characters felt so real!!! while no one character was based entirely off one single person i knew irl, one could say that writing Bb was a bit of a love letter to my time in high school band in some places, both the events i partook in n the people i knew there. it was a very "write what you know" type of fic.

anyway haha yeah the end of my bnha days were not fun, but i still loved Bb enough to hold onto the idea of returning to it Soon(tm) that i put off publishing the chapter notes for almost two years. even then, that was a difficult decision for me to make bc a part of me wasn't ready to close that chapter of my life. i think ultimately it was the best decision to make though, since the fics are p heavily tied up in a much sadder part of my life that i'd just rather not return to.

the main reason comments were turned off of Bb (and indeed, the majority of my bnha fics) is most simply described as "resentment". it's different from how i feel abt my old snk fics (where i turned comments off of them so that i could pretend no one's really reading them anymore), which is more impersonal "oh my god i was so young back then and i give fewer than negative shits abt any mistakes i might've made on them or what anyone thinks of them" bc in bnha it's kind of hard to avoid the fact that i had a Name in the circles i typically traversed for a while. it wasn't that big of a name, but it's certainly more than nothing.

it's not really a feeling i like to dwell on, so i just archive-locked the responsible works n turned off comments for the most heinous culprits (mostly sparklers, but even tho i love Bb as a story, i do not love Bb as a publishing experience, if that makes sense), and for the most part, that keeps the resentment contained.

still, i'm genuinely happy that you enjoyed the au so much!!! i honestly love love love how goddamn SPECIFIC the premises are for this fic. the world was truly built with love, and the music puns for every title were always such a joy to come up with c':

thank you for the ask!!!! :D

#asks #kid-of-yesterday #long post #if you really did come here from my genshin fics last SEPTEMBER then boy howdy do i know Exactly which fic you came from #(if it was in september then it Must have been the saucy xv fic abt the sharp teeth bc pure identity didn't come out til oct) #i have a lot of Feelings abt my time in the bnha fandom that i just don't rlly like to talk abt publicly tbh #mostly bc (most of those Feelings are 'resentment' lmao) i try actively to not be a bitter person anymore #but also i hate admitting that people Knew me bc it feels like vanity or bragging #(bc if my name had ever been ''worth anything'' then why did Bb not garner the attention i'd hoped?) #i know that those thoughts aren't true n all but they're overall very complicated feelings #regarding how fandom at large treats fan creations and creators that ultimately led to my current decision to publish anonymously #ofc my feelings towards fandom n the fan-fan creator relationship have shifted w/time again n i do often consider just de-anoning #but it's... Tricky.... to say the least #haha sorry for unloading a little gloomily onto your lovely ask but i also think you deserve my honest thoughts #and not a saccharine falsehood / partial truth (oh hey that's the main thesis of rhythm lol) #ALSO to have an izch fic as your fave is exemplary taste when combined w/krbk #i am handing you a plaque that says 'certified good taste in ships'

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

MDNI/ 18+

Thinking of Shy Choso

Shy Choso who stumbles over his words when he talks to you. How his cheeks blush, how his stomach gets butterflies. Who is so head over heels for you.

Shy Choso who swears he’s gonna pass out when you smile at him, when you laugh at his jokes. Who isn’t used to all these feelings welling up inside him the moment he hears your name.

Shy Choso who’s the exact opposite in the bedroom. Fucking into your throat while you gag around his cock. Tears brimming on your eyes as he pushes his length even further in. Holding your head in place, with his fist in your hair, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Such a good girl, knew you could take mall of me in that pretty throat of yours.”

Shy Choso who feasts on your pussy like it’s a gourmet meal. Who is anything but quiet, slurping your wetness, moaning, fucking his tongue in and out of your hole resulting in wet squelching sounds. Who bullies two fingers into you, scissoring them inside of you while sucking on your clit, til you’re screaming his name as your orgasm racks through you, drenching his chin with your juices. “F-fuck, you taste so good, I wanna stay like this forever.”

Shy Choso who has you ride him, slowly at first, so he can play with your tits, rolling the nipples between his thumb and index finger. Grabbing a hold of your ass and digging his nails in until just the tiniest dots of blood form. Pulling you down into a kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, groaning into your mouth as you suck on his tongue. Biting your lip as he pulls away before gripping your hips and fucking up into you, causing your tongue to loll out of your mouth, and your eyes to roll back. “Fucked out already, huh?”

Shy Choso who flips you into a mating press, pounding you like his life depended on it. One hand wrapped around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. Grinding his hips in circles so his pubic bone gives your clit stimulation. Bringing his lips to your nipple, nipping at it, swirling his tongue around the bud.

Shy Choso who needs to get you to cum again, so he guides your hand down to your clit, and shoves his fingers into your mouth. Who feels you clamp around him while you cum, his fingers muffling your moans as you twitch around him. Who puts his whole body on top of yours as he finally cums, panting, whining, and moaning. Who wraps his arms around you as his thrusts turn sloppy fucking his semen up into your womb. “K-keep it all inside you.”

Shy Choso who goes right back to being shy the next time he sees you, knowing how much you love how he’s able to switch so effortlessly.

(Ive got a major case of writers block rn, working on another fic and got the plot out of the way but the smut is not coming to my brain. Just wanted to write a quick lil thing tho)

#choso x female reader #choso smut #jjk smut #choso x you #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n

[mydearesthrry]

the morning after - h.s.

a/n: so its soooo rare that i see what happens the day after a friendstolovers fic sooooo i wanted to make one but have it actually he realistic (lolol) so fhis is what that is. enjoyyy (also wrote this high as shit so if it doesnt make sense idk)

wc: 700 of fluff

Y/N rolled over in her bed, eyes clenched shut as she tried to adjust to the bright light shining through her curtains, her hair a mountain of frizz atop her head. She burrowed herself deeper into her pillow as she tried to hold onto the last bit of sleep she had, only to fail when she remembered what had happened last night.

She kissed him. She kissed Harry.

Her eyes shot open when she’d remembered what she’d done, her heart jumping out of her chest and making its way up to her throat. What was she going to do?

She gnawed on her lip as she got distracted in thought, trying to plan out how she was going to bring it up with Harry. But… there was no time like the present to rip off the bandaid, she guesses

Pushing her covers off of herself quickly, she marched to her door and threw it open before she could even regret it, the loud creak notifying Harry almost immediately that she was awake.

“Hey, princess!” Harry called from downstairs, making her nearly fall down the stairs.

“H-hi, H,” She stumbled, cursing herself when her voice broke. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, good,” he nodded, eyes still downward, watching the frying pan. “Wha’ about you?”

“Oh, good, yeah,” She cleared her throat, pulling out a stool at the counter to sit on. “Have any plans today?”

She was honestly surprised at how nonchalant she was being, especially with her best friend, who, not even 12 hours earlier, had his tongue down her throat.

“Umm, not that I can remember.” He shook his head, turning his head quickly to smile at her.

“Oh, cool, cool.” She said through a yawn. Fuck. So much for keeping cool. Now he probably thinks she’s bored of him.

A few beats of silence passed before Harry pushed the pan up to the back burners of the stove, turning to face her. “So?”

“So…” She continued.

“Y’gonna come over here and give me my morning cuddle, or wha’?” He held his arms out expectantly, almost annoyed that she hadn’t gone over to him in the 5 minutes she’s been in the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry,” She squeaked, hopping off the stool and making quick movements to get to her best friend. “Hiiii.”

“Hi, lovie,” He sighed, wrapping his arms around her neck tightly in a hug, his nose burrowed into the top of her head, inhaling her scent.

“Sorry I forgot about your cuddle,” She whispered, pressing the side of her face against his chest, her arms around his waist. “Didn’t mean to.”

She didn’t know how quite to feel. The fact that he hadn’t brought it up at all was stressing her out, because she didn’t know if she was supposed to. Or if he was waiting for her to bring it up like she was waiting for him to.

“‘S okay,” He promised, pressing a kiss to her head. “But, y’know how y’can make it up t’me?”

“How?”

“By givin’ me a kiss. Fact that y’making me wait s’long to taste your lips again after I was nearly insatiable last night feels a little mean t’me.”

“Oh!” She said, pulling back just enough to see his face. “I didn’t know if you remembered that or… or still wanted it.”

“Baby,” He sighed, walking them over to the couch and pulling her onto his lap. “I will always, always want you. I will always want this. Jus’ having you here, close— closer, just how I always wanted to? ‘S a fucking dream, baby,” He murmured, leaning in to just touch the tip of his nose to hers. “You’re a dream.”

And with that, he placed the softest of kisses to her unexpecting lips, humming in content. “I’ll always want you, and I’ll always need you.”

“Promise?”

“Til’ the day I die, sweet girl.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #harry styles drabble #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles au

[sonamytrash]

Lust For Life

Levi Ackerman x F!reader

Warnings: Sex, oral sex, fingering, creampie, more sex.

Note: Purely self-indulgent smut. Inspired by Lust For Life by Lana Del Rey ft The Weekend. Song fic, but the lyrics are in a different font, so skip if you like. I left it a little open to interpretation. Levi and reader have been apart for some time, having been in a past relationship. At last reunited they fuck on his desk. Enjoy!

_____________________

In these stolen moments,

The world is mine,

There's nobody here, just us together,

Keepin' me hot like July forever,

He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, the proximity between the two of you making him feel alive again.

"You were always worth treating well," he says, his eyes locked with yours. "I never wanted to do anything to hurt you."

He leans in closer to you, the proximity between the two of you causing his heart to race. "I still care about you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I always have, and I always will."

'Cause we're the masters of our own fate

We're the captains of our own souls

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, the kiss full of longing and tenderness. All the years you have spent apart, all the pain and suffering, melt away in that moment,

There's no way for us to come away

'Cause boy we're gold, boy we're gold

And I was like

The kiss between you and Levi grows deeper and drips with passion. His tongue explores your mouth and tastes every inch of you. The electric chemistry that exists between the two of you is palpable, each knowing exactly what the other desires. After all, you have danced this dance so many times before. Your bodies entwine together, the heat and passion impossible to ignore. Completely lost in one another.

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all of your clothes

His hand finds its way to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily. He moans into the kiss as he feels one hand trailing down his chest, another finding the waistband of his trousers, fingers working on the button. He groans as your hand travels south, caressing his hardness through the confinement of his clothes, the sensation driving him wild with desire.

They say only the good die young

That just ain't right

'Cause we're having too much fun

Too much fun tonight, yeah

One of your hands finds its way back to his muscular chest, having discarded his shirt. Removing each other's clothes, desperate to be as close as physically possible. Years of longing and desire, having been apart for so much time.

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

Levi groans loudly as he feels your hand now wrap around his cock, the sensation driving him wild with pleasure. He had missed your touch so much, and now that he's finally here, it feels like a dream. You had always known just how to drive him wild and cloud his thoughts with nothing but you.

He uses his rough hands to caress your breasts, feeling your nipples hardening against his palms. He can feel the wetness seeping through your panties, and he can't resist dipping his fingers down to tease your clit.

'Til we run out of breath, gotta dance 'til we die

You kiss along his jaw and neck, slowly pumping his cock in your hands "Remember the things we used to do together Vi, dirty teenagers fucking like animals everywhere and anywhere." You say seductively, reminding him of the days where he would pull you into an alley or storehouse to fuck you senseless. A wanton moan escapes your lips when you feel those fingers you've missed so, so much.

My boyfriend's back

And he's cooler than ever

There's no more night, blue skies forever

Levi groans as he feels your lips on his neck and the feel of your hands pumping his cock, every touch and moan you bestow upon him, driving him wild with lust.

He can't help but smile at the memory of your wild teenage years, filled with sex and passion. The two of you sneaking around to fuck in the most risqué of places, always craving the feel of each other's bodies.

'Cause we're the masters of our own fate

We're the captains of our own souls

So there's no need for us to hesitate

We're all alone. Let's take control

"I remember," he says, his voice husky with desire. "I could never get enough of you, y/n. And I still evidently fucking can't." He says almost breathless.

And I was like

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Take off, take off

Take off all of your clothes

He runs his fingers along your slit, the wetness making it easy to slide in between your folds, back into familiar territory. "I want to make you scream my name again," he whispers lustily in your ear. "That was always my favourite sound."

They say only the good die young

That just ain't right

'Cause we're having too much fun

Too much fun tonight, yeah

Levi groans at the feeling of your soft pussy clenching around his fingers, the thought of the sensation around his cock after so long. He loves the way your body sings for him, the way your pussy sucks him in hungrily.

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

Without any more hesitation, he picks you up by the hips and sets you down on his desk, spreading your legs wide open. Kneeling down between your thighs, breathing in your sweet scent before his tongue begins lapping at your wetness hungrily.

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

He sucks on your clit, fingers playing with your folds as he explores and enjoys every inch of you with his tongue again after so long apart, the picture of you having been etched into memory. The sensation is intense and the pleasure that he delivers almost too much.

"You're so fucking wet," he whispers seductively against your skin. "I've missed the taste of you, y/n."

Levi continues to lick and suck on your clit hungrily, worshipping the temple that is your body. He had missed this so much, missed the feel of you under his tongue, the taste of you, and the sound of your moans as they fill the room.

He speeds up the pace, his tongue working harder while he adds another finger into the mix. He plunges two fingers deep inside of you, working them in and out while his tongue laps at your folds.

My boyfriend's back

And he's cooler than ever

You come undone as he devours your cunt. Arching your back in pleasure as your orgasm rips through you.

There's no more night, blue skies forever

I told you twice in our love letter

There's no stopping now, green lights forever

Levi continues to work his fingers inside of you, lost in the pleasure of making you cum. Desperately trying to resist the urge to hump the air as his cock twitches in anticipation for the heaven he knows is yet to come.

You moan his name loudly, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

He drinks up every drop of your sweet nectar, the taste of you driving him wild with desire. He stands up, kissing you deeply and passionately as he shares the taste of your essence with you.

"You taste incredible, you always do," he coos, hands gripping your hips tightly. "I want to be inside of you so badly. I need to mould this pussy back to the shape of my cock." He says, telling you what he's going to do rather than asking.

You look at him, eyes heavy with lust "Fuck me levi." you pant, your legs open wide and your fingers spreading your swollen cunt for him to see before he stretches you on his cock.

And I was like,

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

Levi growls at your words, he positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and throbbing with need as he readies himself at your entrance.

Without warning, he plunges himself deep inside of you, feeling the warm wetness of your body enveloping him in a tight embrace.

Take off, take off

Take off all your clothes

"Fuck" he hisses, almost a whimper. "You feel so fucking good." he grunts, hips slamming hard into your own. "I've missed the feeling of your pussy around my cock like this."

As he thrusts into you again and again, he can feel the pleasure building inside of you once more, your moans becoming louder and more desperate with each passing moment.

"This pussy was made for me."

Take off, take off

Take off all of your clothes

He picks up the pace, gripping your hips tightly, thrusting harder and faster into you as you both become one. The sound of your moans fill the room, your bodies moving together for what feels like eternity.

And a lust for life, and a lust for life

He can't get enough of the sound of you and the sight of you quivering from pleasure, as you cum again on his cock, tits bouncing from his relentless movements, he relishes the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With one final thrust, he feels his cock pulsing inside of you as he reaches his own orgasm, hot cum spurting deep inside of you as his cock kisses your cervix.

Keeps us alive, keeps us alive

He kisses you deeply, the taste of your lips forever etched into his memory. He knows that there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you, nothing that would stop him from loving you endlessly, worshipping you for the rest of his life.

#levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #levi x reader #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi smut #fanfic #smut #aot smut #aot x reader #levi x you #rivaille ackerman #Spotify

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

we're drunk and in love (but i'd never tell)

Summary: At the Last Light Inn, you and Rolan get to know each other a bit better...

Pairing: Rolan x gn!Tav

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, sexual content (to a certain degree)

Words: 3k

A/N: I had realized I had wrote nothing on Rolan's tail in my previous fics, so I had to fix that. Enjoy <3

Tagging: @tripleyeeet @fictionobsession @elfinbloodbag @adequate-superstar @sapphiccloud (if you don't want to be tagged, or if you want to be added, let me know <3)

\_/

Sitting at a table in a corner of the Last Light Inn, you and the rest of your party have managed to drink an incredible amount of alcohol. The pile of empty mugs and bottles stands perilously on the unsteady wooden table and some of them have even crashed onto the floor, littering it with pieces of broken glass and sticky remains of booze.

Karlach and Gale are somehow still drinking, caught up in a game of their own of which you don’t know the rules but that Astarion seems quite too eager to referee. It’s quite entertaining: the tiefling, barely even tipsy with the biggest mug of ale you’ve ever seen in her hand, and the wizard, muttering something unintelligible in his drunken haze, a bottle of wine tightly held in his grip which, despite his complaints about the cheap taste, keeps meeting his lips every few minutes. Mostly whenever Astarion reminds him that the game is still on, with that mischievous smirk of his cutting his face.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel have quietly opted out from the drinking game, but have instead entered a staring contest filled with insults going from one end to the other and back. Wyll, sitting in front of them, tries to ease the tension as best he can, with no other result than finding himself at the end of some drunken — and not too subtle — threats from the both of them.

Despite the nearby amusement, your eyes keep drifting away from your companions further into the Inn; precisely, to the spot next to the counter where Rolan is leaning against as he chuckles at Cal and Lia’s drunken shenanigans. You can’t help but focus on the crow’s feet appearing around his eyes and the way his features soften everytime he looks at his siblings, hiding his smile behind his pint.

Every once in a while, when his siblings are too busy bickering with each other, Rolan’s gaze also wanders around the room, skimming the clientèle quickly before stopping on you. Everytime he does, your eyes meet as if they’ve been searching for each other all night, lingering for as long as they can before Cal and Lia demand Rolan’s attention back to them, or someone in your group calls for your opinion for whatever silly question has crossed their minds.

“Hey soldier!”

With a quiet sigh, you move your gaze from Rolan’s and turn to Karlach. You immediately notice the smirk on her face — mirroring Astarion’s — as she rests her head on her closed fist. “Fancying someone, aren’t we?”

You roll your eyes and take another sip of your drink as she and the vampire chuckle at your ever so slight embarrassment. “You should really care about your own personal life.”

“I’d truly rather not think about it,” Astarion hums, stealing Gale’s bottle and taking a sip. “Besides… this,” — he says as his fingers move between you and Rolan — “is much more fun.”

“Ch’k. And pathetic.”

Turning to your side, you find Lae’zel staring at you, spine straight as a mountain and arms crossed on her chest. She would look even more intimidating if it weren’t for Shadowheart sleeping on her shoulder.

“If you want him, go and take this ridiculous pining far away from me.”

“Wow. Really?”

“You know I’m nothing short of a romantic,” Wyll starts, kind and sympathetic as ever, although his smile trembles as he continues, “however, I must admit this is quite unbearable to watch.”

“Thanks for your honesty, Wyll.”

“He does have a point,” Karlach nods before smiling and winking at you, “and I’m sure the tiefling would be more than happy to get railed by you ‘til dawn.”

“Yeah, I-” — you pass a hand over your face, your cheeks burning as many filthy thoughts start filling your brain — “I got that, Karlach. Thanks.”

“Oh, don't be so awkward about it,” the barbarian roars as her laughter almost makes the table shake, “you also deserve some good-”

You stand up, way too quickly given how much you’ve drunk until now. Your head swirls for a moment before it settles back down.

“I’m leaving. And you should all get back to camp.” Your eyes move to Gale as he’s sleeping with his cheek squished against the table, his face flushed by all the alcohol. “Especially him. And Astarion, stop giving him the wine.”

The vampire, who had just handed the wizard his bottle back, takes it away once again with a smirk and drinks another sip from it, earning a disgruntled groan from the drunken man next to him.

You sigh, downing what remains of your ale before piling the mug with the others on the table. “Try not to die while I’m gone.”

As you walk off, you hear a loud clapping, accompanied by some whistling. You take a deep breath as you rub your eyes, trying to ignore the attention that your companions cheering has brought down on you. You suddenly remember the poison vile in your bags… mixing the deadly content in Gale's stew has never seemed such a good idea.

“What was that about?”

Stepping closer to the counter, you turn to Lia, her questioning eyebrows raised mostly with amusement than actual curiosity.

“Just a drunken bet,” you lie, leaning on the wooden surface and sliding until your elbow doesn't meet Rolan's. Even if he notices your not too subtle maneuver, he doesn't move away.

“I love bets!”

Cal’s speech is slurred by the alcohol as he speaks. He tries to take a step forward but helplessly stumbles back, leaning against his sister for stability. Lia rolls her eyes and sighs in resignation but doesn't move away.

“What did you bet on?” she asks again, taking a sip of ale.

Despite the drunken haze blurring your mind, you notice her gaze has suddenly sharpened. There's a glint of mischief behind her eyes, as if she's already seen through your true intentions and is simply wanting to tease you about it. You wouldn't put it past her — especially if it were made to get a reaction out of Rolan — and, normally, you would never indulge in her teasing.

Normally.

It's been a while since things have been nothing but abnormal. And there's a way too abnormal amount of ale running through your veins for you to hide the desire you feel for that sarcastic tiefling.

“We were merely wondering if I could manage another kind word from the snarky wizard,” you shrug, turning towards Rolan with a smirk as you lean — ever so slightly — more into him. “After all, I think I've deserved it.”

 The tiefling next to you scoffs, chuckling softly as he takes a sip of his mug before meeting your half-lidded gaze with his own. “I've thanked you once already.” He leans closer, his face stopping a few inches away. “Don't be greedy.”

A teasing smile pulls his lips on that last word, contradicting that last word as the tiefling keeps staring, his eyes darting to your mouth and then back to your gaze, almost daring you to press your mouth against his and savor the lingering taste of alcohol on his tongue. An invitation you’d gladly take on, if Lia’s gaze wasn’t still piercing through your right temple.

“Perhaps,” you utter softly, tapping your fingers on his arm. “I want something different than your gratitude.”

Rolan raises his eyebrows, his pupils widening as he looks at you. Despite the surprise painted in his eyes, his smirk doesn't quiver once.

“The ale makes you quite bold.”

As your hand moves up and down his forearm, you lean closer to him, until you're whispering into his ear. “If you like that, I could be even bolder, away from prying eyes.”

When you pull away, the smirk has left the tiefling's face. His cheeks, already flushed because of the cheap booze, are the same shade of red as the blood running through his veins — perhaps even darker. You chuckle lightly at his dumbfounded expression, the back of your fingers brushing against his scorching skin before you walk past him. You sway ever so slightly towards the stairs that bring upstairs, stopping just before the first step and leaning against the wall. Waiting.

“Lia.”

The summoned tiefling turns to her brother, whose gaze is still focused on you and your smirking face. “If you could leave the room to us for… an hour or so,” Rolan continues, his words stumbling over one another. “I- we need to discuss some important business,” — he nods to himself — “magic… wizard-y business.”

“Yeah,” she hums while swirling the remaining contents of her drink, a grin on her face. “I bet your dick has a lot of unfinished business with that ass.”

“Lia!”

His whisper is so loud that for a moment it seems to bring back to the present moment even Cal. His head, however, falls soon back onto his sister’s shoulder. Chuckling devilishly, Lia downs her ale and asks with a wave to the innkeeper for another one.

“I’ll give you two hours,” she agrees, cocking her eyebrows. “But you’re paying for the ale.”

Rolan rolls his eyes. “As always.”

“And tomorrow you’ll take care of this.”

She points with a nod to Cal, once again asleep and drooling all over her shirt as his snoring grows by the minute — a loud omen of how insufferable he will be the next day, complaining about his hangover. Rolan takes a deep breath before huffing it out, frustrated but unable to quarrel, given that you’re still waiting for him.

“Fine! I will do my due.” He turns to leave but stops, facing Lia for another moment as he gently squeezes her arm. “Thank you, sister.”

“Just remember this when I’ll need some business time of my own,” she screams at his turned back, but she might as well be talking to a wall. Rolan’s attention has left her and Cal, focusing completely on you and the way your figure is still leaning against the wooden, dirty wall.

As he steps closer, your brain finally catches on to what's going to happen in a handful of minutes and you can’t help the way your heartbeat quickens at the mere thought. You had often considered the possibility, fantasizing about the tiefling before going to sleep. They were simple dreams, delusions really, a way to ease the struggles of the day with a gentle thought to yourself. But there’s no time left for the fantasy: Rolan’s standing in front of you now, with his blood coloring his cheeks and his hand — real as the flesh and bones that’s made of — stretched towards you.

“Come. I’ll show you my room.”

You take it with a smirk, rubbing your thumb on his fingers when they close around yours. “Who’s the bold one now?”

He remains quiet as he pulls you with him into the stairwell. You leave behind the light of the tavern, stepping into a darkness so sudden that it blinds you. In the time that it takes to regain your sight, Rolan’s hands slither to your waist. You hold your breath as they gently guide you backwards until your back meets the wall. You don’t even see the tiefling’s face getting near yours, you simply feel his warm breath dancing on your lips and sending shivers down your spine.

There’s a pause, a moment of stillness as you both get adjusted to the novel closeness, to the warmth that spreads between your clothed bodies and the heaviness of his hands and legs, pressed against and between yours. Rolan doesn’t move back, giving away none of the inches he’s gained towards you, but he doesn’t even close the distance that separates the two of you, leaving you in a limbo of desire that’s slowly driving you crazy by the second.

You nudge your nose against his, smirking when you feel his breath catching in his throat. “What are you waiting for, wizard? A written invitation?”

The question still rings in your mouth when Rolan shuts it with his own lips. They simply press on yours at first, sitting awkwardly on top of each other like all first kisses turn out to be. Then you move, opening and closing your lips onto his bottom one as you've pictured so many times in your dreams, and the dance begins. A dance made of drunken mouths and tongues desperately looking for one another, for a momentary pleasure, and perhaps for something more than a fire that extinguishes in the span of one night.

With all your attention focused on the way his teeth teasingly graze your jaw, you almost forget his hands; that is until they grab your ass and pull you even closer against him. Your fingers dig into his arm as you whimper ever so softly, mentally cursing the leather and clothes separating his bare skin from your touch.

A second later, it all disappears.

His mouth. His hands. The painful and blessed heat rushing through you. Completely gone.

You open your eyes to find Rolan staring at you, his golden irises piercing through the darkness like a lighthouse in a moonless night.

“Come now,” he whispers, a quiet order that you’re more than happy to comply with.

He slides his hand back into your grip and you follow him as he guides you up the stairs. You’re unsure how — despite the alcohol that's flowing and clouding both your brains — you manage to climb the two stories without faults or stumbles; what you know for certain is that the second the door closes behind the tiefling, your hands are pulling him back in before he can utter a single word.

Your mouth sloppily moves on his with the hunger of a starving wolf. With your fingers stroking and pulling his air, you drink in the soft moans that escape his lips — coal to feed the fire that burns within. His hands go back to your hips, squeezing them before his fingertips make their way under your shirt. The grazing touch of his claws on your bare skin is enough to make you gasp.

“Losing your breath for so little, my hero?”

As his whisper and the shivers caused by it linger on your skin, you grab him by the collar. You can feel him swallow as you do, his throat brushing against your knuckles.

“When I’m done with you,” you hum softly, taking a few steps back and dragging him to the bed, “you’ll be lucky if you still remember your name.”

You're not used to giving — or receiving — this kind of gentleness: your hands always find themselves more at ease when covered in blood than wrapped in the gentle hold of a lover. Yet, this softness seems to spring naturally from you as your fingertips inch tentatively along his bare skin, patiently tracing the shape of his bones and muscles instead of devouring every inch of flesh in sight. Despite your newfound care, his chest trembles under your touch, his shaky breath mixing with a soft whimper when you climb in his lap, legs spread and knees pointed on either side of him.

With his face even more flushed than ever, Rolan opens his mouth. Whatever thought crosses his glowing eyes, nothing leaves his lips other than a breathless sigh as he silently and wide-eyed stares at you. Chuckling softly, you turn him around and sit him down on the consumed mattress of the inn. You undo his belt and the knots of his leather bracers, despite the alcoholic numbness slowing your fingers down, before messily helping him out his light armor and tunic.

“You look scared.” You drag your fingers along his jaw before settling them on his burning cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbone. “We can stop here, if you want. It's been a lot of fun already.”

Rolan chuckles quietly but his eyes don't leave yours. “I'm many things right now. Drunk, mostly. In utter awe of your beauty, most definitely. But frightened?” — he holds his breath, shaking his head ever so slightly — “How could I be afraid of something I desire so deeply?”

“And doesn’t that scare you?”

“Wanting?”

“No,” you mutter softly, your thumb digging deeper into his skin. “Not wanting.”

Since you’ve been old enough to recognize it, you’ve known the thrill that desire can set alight within you and others. You’ve cherished it deeply, abused it at times and chastised yourself for it afterwards. Because where there’s wanting — where affection and love and attachment grow stronger — the looming threat of losing’s always following closely behind. You’ve witnessed that pain, tested out on your own skin, and it never left you. It’s constantly with you, a sleeping presence that lives in the back of your mind, awaking like clockwork at the slightest hint of closeness and intimacy and filling your head with dark whispers that always manage to draw you away. From what was left of your family. From friends, lovers and anyone else you’ve ever cared about.

Even now its honeyed whispers stick to your ears, a reminder that despite the rush flowing through your veins — despite the kindness that spills from your heart, this will be one of the many nights spent with a stranger in a dirty inn in the middle of nowhere. After all, you might’ve met before and bickered like an old married couple before parting ways, you might’ve thought endlessly about his hands roaming your naked body every night you were apart and you might want him just as much as he wants you, but Rolan remains nothing but a stranger.

“Then what-”

The tiefling’s words are lost in your mouth. The same gentleness from before spreads from your lips as you softly push yourself more into him until he’s laying down on the covers. His hands glide along your legs as his tail also wraps around one of them, with its pointy end brushing along your inner thigh. You can't help the sighs full of pleasure that slip through your kisses while that involuntary response continues to tease you. Or the way your insides seem to stir at Rolan's moan when you gently squeeze the bulge in his pants.

“Just relax, wizard.” You linger once again on his lips, a smirk pulling your mouth when you move away. “I'll take care of it. Then if you want, you can return the favor.”

He nods with a mischievous smile. “I’d be delighted to.”

As you keep kissing, slowly getting to his waist, you feel his muscles relax more and more under your touch. His breathing slows, getting more and more regular by the minute. Too regular in a way, unwavering even when your hands start pulling down his pants.

Chuckling lightly, you kiss him again, deeper this time. You move to his jaw, then lower, leaving a trail of spit and sloppy kisses from his neck to his chest. When you look up at him, he’s closed his eyes while his head rests on the mattress, mouth slightly open and lips shaking every once in a while whenever your tongue laps over a sensitive spot. Everytime you feel his chest tremble, you stop and torture that part of his skin, revelling in his quiet — and not so quiet — whimpers.

Another noise escapes his lips seconds later, a vibration that shakes his entire body and stops your movements on the spot.

“Are you kidding me…”

Rolan’s sleeping. You poke him in the abdomen with a finger but he doesn’t even flinch. You’ve definitely underestimated the amount of alcohol he’s managed to drink, or simply his resistance to it.

It would feel almost insulting, falling asleep like that with you about to give him head, if only he didn’t look so peaceful.

“You’re lucky you're cute,” you whisper with a pout as you get off him, ready to go back to camp and take care of your arousal in your own tent. However, as soon as you try to take a step from the bed, something pulls you back. Lowering your gaze, you find Rolan’s tail still wrapped around your leg.

“Really?”

You tap gently on it, pulling it to loosen its grip around you, but your maneuvers only make the tail tighten more. Sighing heavily, you consider every option that could aid your silent exit, but there isn’t one in which you don’t wake the wizard up. Then, as the weariness and alcohol start to take over your tired limbs, you consider staying. Not leaving, for once. Daring to want something more, something that lasts longer than a night. Maybe something that could last forever.

The mere thought awakes the dark presence in your mind. It’s louder than normal, ringing in your head like the most annoying headache. You push your hands into your eyes, rubbing quickly to soothe away the pain but to no avail. Normally at this point, with the reminder of the pain of losing so close, you’d be running away without thinking of anyone but yourself, selfishly guarding your heart like the frailest of glass sculptures.

However, once again, there’s nothing normal in your life lately.

Ignoring the shadowy voice that’s now screaming in the back of your head, you slip in bed with Rolan, snuggling next to him in the small space left. As soon as the mattress tilts under your weight, the tiefling turns towards you, his face resting so close that his nose brushes against yours with every breath.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in every detail in his face until the candle in the room runs out. Even when the shadows have wrapped you in their arms, your eyes keep searching for him in the dark. The longer you look at him — at the way his lips curl or the few scattered freckles on his cheeks and nose, the quieter the voice in your head gets.

When the door opens again and Lia and Cal step in, you’re still awake, still studying his features — the voice is a mere whisper. You hear Lia mutter something to herself, probably about the fact that you’re still there, but her voice is soon replaced with the sounds of regular breathing and soft snoring. It doesn’t take long after that for you to also give in to the pull of sleep.

However, before you shut your brain off, you let your hand slip in his hold. The last thing you feel before Selûne welcomes you in her realm is Rolan squeezing your hand.

#rolan x tav #rolan x reader #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #annie writes

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Smut Favorite Recs

I thought about sorting these further, but there's so much overlap. Click below for a compilation of favorites! Among other things, you'll find some praise, glasses, lingerie, competency, piercings, somnophilia...maybe a cheeky threesome or two.

Meet Me In The Middle by @clottedcreamfudge. M, 1k. Henry is sitting at the table, scribbling something in a familiar notebook with one hand, while he does a Rubik's Cube with the other.

He's. Doing a Rubik's Cube. With one hand. He's not even looking at it. Alex isn't prepared for this. He thinks he might have dropped his jacket, but he can't say for sure, because he can't feel his fucking hands.

As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine. by barthelme. E, 1k. Henry has a history of falling into what Alex affectionately calls a ‘dick coma’ when he’s getting fucked just right. His eyes roll back and his eyes close and his pleads for Alex to fuck him harder, right there, yes, etc. turn into guttural moans and maybe,maybe, once or twice he has drooled. Not a lot, but enough for Alex to give him shit about it and whatever, it’s not a big deal.

second finger to the right, and straight on til morning by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries. E, 1.2k. "Sweetheart, where's my prostate?"

or, 1286 words of irredeemable porn wherein Henry makes Alex come really hard. Twice.

Temperature's Up, 'Bout to Erupt by @sparklepocalypse. E, 1.2k. Alex’s senses spark with the taste of Henry’s tongue, the smell of leather and sweat, and the feeling of their bodies pressed together from knee to chest. Through Henry’s shirt, the small of his back is a hot, shuddering plane beneath Alex’s palm, and Alex wants.

Volume Control by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. E, 1.5k. Prompt Fulfillment: I need someone to write a FirstPrince fic where Henry overhears Alex saying "Henry is so annoying I can't stand him" so Henry says "kneel then" and it short circuits Alex's brain.

Modification to the map of you by colorfulmoniker. E, 1.6k. Henry comes back from a month-long trip with his ear pierced, and Alex has no idea.

only bought these shorts so you can take them off by buttercupblues. E, 1.6k. alex accidentally buys a pair of short shorts, but when he discovers he likes them, he buys more. henry's brain short circuits.

this night just can't end by ironwords. E, 1.6k. Henry, beautiful, wonderful Henry, instantly pulls Alex off his dick—by his hair, a move Alex finds just as arousing as whatever the fuck just happened—breathing out an apology before asking if he’s alright.

Alex takes stock of himself. His jaw kind of hurts, but that’s not anything out of the ordinary, and he’s panting, mouth full of drool he has to take a second to swallow, and– Oh. His underwear is sticky. His underwear is sticky. Hesitantly, he rolls his hips against the mattress and immediately hisses and stops as the sensitivity hits.

Did he just–

“Did you just come in your pants?” Henry asks.

kiss it better by lem0nademouth. E, 1.7k. Alex had a long day. Henry is fine with making it a long night.

has been rough (kinky!) by @lem0nademouth. E, 1.8k. Henry tries lingerie. Alex has...feelings.

the one in which everything is the same, but Alex has piercings and Henry has no idea by Poutini. E, 2k. Henry's brain goes momentarily offline when he clocks it - the hard, round metal of a barbell, positioned horizontally, piercing Alex’s tongue. He lets his tongue trace around each end, and he can feel the curve of Alex’s smile as he realizes what Henry has just discovered.

“Find something interesting, sweetheart?” he murmurs against Henry’s lips when they finally pull apart for air.

Give Me Your Confession by Mags (sparklepocalypse). E, 2k. He stares at the photo and makes an incoherent sound. He blinks. Blinks again. But the photo is still there, and in it, Henry, love of his life, man of his dreams, his heart’s greatest desire…

Henry is wearing a confident sneer and leather. Fucking. Pants.

in control of what i do (and i love the way you move) by countingto15. E, 2.2k. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” Henry says, one hand creeping down Alex’s side. “Dancing up against me.”

“That’s just how I move, corazón.” Henry’s hand reaches Alex’s hip, and Alex narrows his eyes mischievously. “It’s not all about you.”

Henry’s fingers tighten around Alex’s hip. “Don’t test me,” he whispers.

Biting his lip, Alex curls a strand of Henry’s hair around his finger.

“Hmm. Testing you’s kind of fun, though.”

warm from the inside out by @cricketnationrise. E, 2.2k. “Can I pull you away from what I’m sure is fascinating research for a bit of a break?”

“Mmm, depends on what kind of break,” Alex teases. “Tax law is pretty captivating.”

“I was thinking,” Henry begins slowly, smudging kisses from Alex’s shoulder and up his neck, “that the break could go something like this.”

Trick Rider by @orchidscript. T, 2.5k. Alex stepped up into Henry’s side, pressed the center of his hips to the rise of Henry’s denim-clad thigh. His light fingers trailed along the small of Henry’s back, chin perched on his shoulder as he watched the dance floor. “C’mon, baby. That could be us.”

“Love,” Henry whispered as he pressed back against his boyfriend. He wrapped an arm around Alex’s waist as he swiveled his hips, adding pressure. “That is us.”

a demonstrable fact, or Alex makes an assumption and Henry makes it all better by Poutini. E, 2.6k. Alex’s view becomes jumbled as Henry keeps his phone in one hand and leans far over, reaching to open his nightside table drawer. There’s a flash of David, curled up at the foot of the bed, a glimpse of a stack of books next to a lamp, fuzzy socks in the open drawer and -

an open box of condoms?

Uh.

Alex feels ill.

oh, honey, pray to me between the sheets by captainegg. E, 2.8k. Henry comes home after being away for three weeks and Alex is very eager to welcome him home properly.

I love it when you call by clottedcreamfudge. E, 3k. "I'm really fucking angry that other people are looking at your collar bones," Alex admits. "Tween girls and very confused boys everywhere are looking at them and swooning over them, and I'm annoyed about it." Henry's quiet again for a moment, and when he speaks his tone is low and private; it's his bedroom voice, the absolute fucker, and Alex is weak all over again.

"Alex, have you been swooning over my collar bones?" If by 'swooning', Henry means 'getting well on the way to a raging hard-on', the answer is 'absolutely,’ but Alex would rather swallow his own tongue than admit that.

a quick study by @whimsymanaged. E, 3k. Alex is new to bisexuality, and he turns to a friend for some guidance.

attention by @jackwolfes. E, 3.1k. “Hello, darling,” he replied, “Making friends?”

“Always,” he said, “Pedro’s nice.”

“And touchy.”

“Jealous?” 

Study Buddies by Jaistiel. E, 3.3k. "Take my cock in your mouth, Alex." The words were said breathlessly, as if Henry had never desired to say anything more and wasn't quite sure he was allowed. "But don't suck. Don't lick. Don't swallow. Just hold me on your tongue until I tell you otherwise."

You'll be Glowing, Chasing Shadows Away by Mags (sparklepocalypse). E, 3.3k. In the weeks leading up to Alex’s eighteenth birthday, he spends hours meticulously crafting a list of things that adults are legally permitted to do, and minors are not. It takes nearly twice as long to decide which items to sidebar, so he can narrow the list down to a manageable number. Finally, he’s left with four: 1. register to vote; 2. buy a lottery ticket; 3. get a tattoo; 4. go to the adult novelty shop.

(Or, five times Alex tries something he's seen on the internet, and one time he involves Henry.)

Rabbit Hole by TuppingLiberty. E, 3.6k. Some sort of non-famous au, don't worry, there's not really a plot.

Alex has been going down a research rabbit hole for hours and Henry comes to rescue him.

thank you for your service by Anonymous. E. 3.7k. “Yeah,” Alex said, “Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” he gasped, and Henry smiled, slow and laced with honey.

Alex has energy to burn. Henry knows how to help. Alex accepts it like a good boy should.

and i'll lay right down in my favorite place by mangotarts. E, 3.9k. “Speaking of your boyfriend, all you mentioned was that Alex was watching some show then made some off-hand comment but it wasn’t so off-hand if it’s what landed us here, was it?”

Henry clears his throat. “Um, yes, that’s right. He’s been obsessed with this one television series that’s set in seventeenth-century England. I watched a few episodes with him the other night and I will admit, the plot is rather captivating.” Henry glances at Bea and sees that he has all of her attention. He continues, nerves starting to settle into his body when he recalls what Alex said. “We were both immersed in an episode when he suddenly blurted out how good I’d look in the attire of that era.”

in which henry takes alex's supposed off-hand comment into consideration and alex is. well, alex is unprepared for the repercussions of his words.

Baby, You're Gonna Lose Your Own Game by @affectionatelyrs. E, 4k. Alex thinks he understands why people get stupid, impulsive tattoos like their ex’s name now if the sudden urge to etch the word darling onto his hip in permanent ink is anything to go by.

So, yeah, Alex supposes. Henry may still be maddening, but his mouth? His voice? Maybe it was always hot, actually, and the irritation he previously felt was just thinly veiled complete and utter attraction. That would check out. Hate has always been a multifaceted word, after all.

Or, Alex decides that he wants to fuck the British out of Henry while watching him speak at a gala

Body Count Baby! by orestespdf. E, 4.2k. “Okay,” Henry says eventually. “What do you want to know?”

Alex raises an eyebrow. A small smile plays on his lips. “Can I ask you anything?”

“Within reason, you hellion.”

Alex flops back down and grins, a new vigor running through him. He rubs his hands together, clearly thinking hard. When he finally looks back at Henry, his smile has turned mischievous. “Am I the best you’ve ever had? Like, has anyone been better than me?”

Henry and Alex talk about how many people they've been with.

that look in your blue eyes, it makes me lose my mind. by seafloor. E, 4.2k. Alex Claremont-Diaz, on discovering the wonder that is Henry Fox’s mouth. And what the man wants to do with it.

// an ode to Henry’s beautiful lips, basically.

Dirty Looks by clottedcreamfudge. E, 4.3k. "You… Alex. You're wearing glasses."

"That Oxford education hasn't failed you yet, Hen," Alex drawls, marking his place and closing the book so he can slide it onto the desk. He then has no choice but to look up from his chair, and what he sees when he does is -

Well. It's something.

Henry sees Alex in his glasses. He apparently has a few feelings about them.

Wrap Me Up, Unfold Me by @sparklepocalypse. E, 4.3k. After the Kensington confrontation, Henry gets on the plane with Alex.

(Or, Henry and Alex join the Mile High Club in filthy, spectacular fashion.)

sometimes we break so beautiful by Anonymous. E, 4.4k. It’s his own damn fault; Alex knows this.

It’s his fault for having everyone over for a small birthday party only to spend the evening whispering filthy things to Henry when no one was looking. (And when they were looking, because it’s his goddamn birthday and he can be as inappropriate with his boyfriend as he fucking wants to be.) It’s his fault for pushing Henry, for bratting off with antagonistic words like ‘what are you going to do about it—give me birthday spankings?’ and ‘do you actually think you could put me in my place? Because I’d like to see you try.’ It’s his fault for taunting Henry by suggestively licking the birthday candles, for doing anything he could possibly do to bring attention to his mouth, to his ass, to his fingers.

It's his fault that he’s now on their bed, lying on top of Henry, arms stretched out in front of him on either side of Henry's head and wrists tied to the headboard.

Talk About A Puppet Monarchy by largepeachicedtea. E, 4.5k. Alex has a proposition. Henry is all too happy to take it like a champ.

it's you (it's always been you) by @coffeecatsme. E, 4.7k. “You mean to tell me you named your vibrator after another man because you thought the pun would be funny?”

Alex names his vibrator after Han Solo and Henry gets jealous.

I just wanna tell you that you're really pretty (boy) by Anonymous. E, 4.8k. “I can’t believe you just called me weatherboy, oh my god-”

“And what would you prefer I called you?”

“Alex, ideally,” he muttered, and Henry laughed.

---

Henry discovers a new way to get under Alex’s skin, in the best possible way.

you paint dreamscapes on the wall by @littlemisskittentoes. E, 5.1k. “Fuck, H. What are you? A damn vampire?”

And Henry loved this too. The way the fire in Alex never quite went out, just smoldered down to embers. He didn’t think he’d ever quite get used to Alex’s wit, his sheer audacity to taunt and pick at him. But Henry was sure he never wanted to, anyway. He loved that that audacity snuck through the cracks of following orders, and waiting in positions. In between the begging, and Alex only ever finishing with permission dripping from Henry’s lips, it was still there. And Christ, if it wasn’t the single-most precious thing Henry had been gifted the honor of experiencing.

or, Alex is in his own head too much of the time. But Henry can always bring him back.

it doesn't make sense, but still by @smc-27. E, 5.2k. He’s not going to say that his desire to sleep with men exclusively in an anonymous capacity is because no man he’s ever slept with has lived up to the feeling he had with this one.

handprints & good grips. by seafloor. E, 5.7k. Henry and Alex have some fun on the way to a party.

a prince and a president by citydreaming. E, 5.8k. “Alex I’ve met your mum, lots of times in fact. You were there for most of them, remember?” Henry says, snapping Alex’s attention back to his phone.

Alex barks out a laugh at that because no, that’s not what happened at all.

“Baby that wasn’t my mom, that was the fucking President. And she met Prince Henry, not you, not my Henry.”

“Your Henry huh?”

“Yes, he has a dog with a stupid name, horrendous taste in pyjamas and the blandest collection of ties I’ve ever laid eyes on, but he’s aside from that he’s pretty fucking hot.”

OR: before the election is won, henry flies to texas to spend the week with alex.

Something New by AHistoricDistraction. E, 6.2k. After the first few times he bottoms for Henry, Alex has realized something new about himself. But before he's willing to bring it up to Henry, he needs to figure out what exactly it IS. So Alex does what he does best: research.

Gunpowder & Chocolate by Angelic_Disaster. E, 6.2k. Henry was used to spending his heats alone, he was more than content with his toys but then Alex (Alex, oh, Alex, always stupid, handsome Alex) had to come and ruin him.

Or, alternative summary: Henry is in heat, and Alex gets so horny through the phone that he gets on the first plane towards the U.K. to fuck Henry into oblivion.

Feels Like Home by @indomitable-love. E, 6.4k. 'Henry takes David out into the garden while Alex tidies up in the kitchen, putting away the dishes still on the drying rack from the morning. He’s not turned the main light on. He’s just carefully putting things away by the dim spotlight. He doesn’t need the light – it’s like muscle memory, so easy and natural he could do it blindfolded, and it’s all so domestic it makes Henry’s heart leap and turn in ways he didn’t know it could.'

making the headlines by @stardisnight, @athousandrooms, @villiageidiot. E, 6.5k. For no other reason than sheer boredom, Alex decides to set up a Google alert for the exact phrase "HRH Prince Henry." When Henry asks why, he quite literally cannot come up with a reason for the decision. He just… wants to.

Also: five times Alex overreacted to a Google alert (and one time Henry did)

it's a scene (and we're out here in plain sight) by @annnesbonny. E, 7.3k. "I don’t want us to be in the press for anything other than how good I am at polo, and how charming you look in that shirt.”

Henry just wants the Fifth Annual Okonjo Foundation Polo Match to run smoothly, but that's harder than it seems.

snakeskin. by seafloor. E, 7.3k. Henry Fox, on embracing his softness, overcoming familial abuse, and being unapologetically queer.

get fucked (or die trying) by @rmd-writes. E, 7.5k. Alex has a paper to write, but he's been procrastinating. When Henry leaves the house to give him space to actually write the damn thing – distraction free – Alex learns the true meaning of procrastination.

jump in with your heart first by @dumbpeachjuice. E, 7.5k. Pez sets it up. Some guy from work, he says. Gorgeous, too smart for his own good, a mouth that will get him into trouble.

Henry raises an eyebrow.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Pez sings, wearing a smirk, “the answer is yes.”

The Key to My Body series by Mags (sparklepocalypse). E, 8.2k. 

It started with a Red, White & Royal Blue rimming fic, that expanded to a sex marathon... that expanded to include a second rimming fic... because Henry and Alex are never going to not be completely into one another and willing to do all the things sexually.

you handle it beautifully by @hypnostheory. E, 9.7k. “And I may have an idea for the libido problem too.”

Henry sighs. “I don’t think this has risen to the level of therapy just because I can’t get hard.”

“First off, nothing has to rise to the level of therapy, there’s no threshold for misery,” Alex says, parroting the words his therapist has told him about half a million times. “But no, I wasn’t thinking about therapy.” Henry raises a brow. “I was thinking we try party drugs.”

Alex, discovering Henry is having a hard time getting out of his head enough to enjoy sex, has a clear solution: recreational drug use! While on the road to self-discovery and self-actualization, Henry surprises Alex more than once.

(3 times Henry surprised Alex + 1 time Alex shocked him right back)

five times alex and henry tried something kinky (and one time they didn't) by @omgcmere. E, 10k. Alex knew Henry loved his stupid fucking dirty talk, but if he were pressed to admit it, he loved it too, especially knowing that they were doing something they very much weren't supposed to—and that even though it wouldn't be the same scandal it once was, it would still be a fucking shock to someone's delicate sensibilities and most likely get them in a lot of trouble.

What Alex loved most was that Henry got off on this shit as much as he did, too.

OR

five times Alex and Henry tried something kinky, and one time they didn't

this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical. by seafloor. E, 10k. Society collapsed in the early 1980s. The weather controls humanity, and the ruling class controls the people.

Amidst it all, two boys find time to meet up.

ocean waves. by seafloor. E, 10k. Henry Fox wakes up with a toothache one morning, and has a lot of feelings about certain things for days afterwards.

Wildest Dreams series by @myheartalivewrites. E, 13k. Once Alex has pulled out, Henry turns over to face him. He strokes the hair softly away from his face and Alex smiles at him.

“So… that happened again.”

Henry leans forward and kisses him on the forehead. “Indeed.”

There’s a sort of thoughtful pause, where Henry can see Alex working to pull together the right words. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you that… thirsty?”

“Oh, bugger off,” Henry says, but he’s laughing. It’s a fair description.

“No, but I mean it. You were like… urgent. It was hot.”

“It felt hot. I liked waking up like that. With you up against me, trying to have your way with me.”

Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process

Twice the speed (of you and me) by myheartalive. E, 17k. “Hey. So, you know Pez?” Alex asks bluntly. No easy way into this, he’s decided.

Henry looks up from his phone, frowning. “My best mate?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Alex has an idea.

let him be soft (let him be mine) by @congee4lunch. E, 18k. “I’m always cute,” Alex kisses the mole on Henry’s cheekbone.

“Yeah? Does your work wife tell you that?” Henry grumbles.

“I don’t have a work wife,” Alex breathes out, smiling against his mouth. “Why need one when I got the real deal waiting at home for me,” He licks at the mole on Henry’s upper lip. “All pretty and mine for the taking?”

in which henry wants to be alex's wife, in so many words. alex wants all that and more. their relationship ebbs and flows.

the only thing on my mind series by HypnosTheory. E, 31k. Piercer!Alex teaches Henry about the inner workings of BDSM in mid-90s New York.

More Amour by surveycorpsjean. E, 45k. Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[moremaybank]

RAFE CAMERON ! ⊹₊ ✰ ⋆

fics !

a taste of both worlds [18+]

jj and rafe both find out that you've been seeing the other behind their backs. what are they supposed to do now?

change your life

as you and rafe fall in love with each other, you take great strides to ensure that he sees himself through your eyes and recognizes the potential for greatness within himself. (based on the song "change your life" by kehlani feat. jhené aiko)

retribution [18+]

rafe finds you in an interesting position when he comes home early from a work trip.

wrong [18+]

you and rafe have an agreement. just sex, no feelings. (based on “wrong” by zayn feat. kehlani)

all dolled up [18+]

rafe has plans to hangout with the guys, but you come up with a way to convince him to cancel on them.

extravagant [18+]

lusty moments of passion between you and your boyfriend rafe. (based on the song “extravagant” by lil durk feat. nicki minaj)

everything

five moments in which rafe’s heart clenches with love for you. (based on the song “everything” by kehlani)

do it yourself [18+]

rafe wants to watch you do his job for him.

'til death do us part [18+]

the night before your wedding, rafe reminds you that you'll always belong to him.

eyes on us [ DARK — 18+]

the man you've been having an affair with enlists you in a devious and downright evil plan to get back at your husband. the husband that owes him a million dollars.

fic events !

obx week '23, kinktober '23

blurbs !

overstimulation & squirting with rafe [18+]

dacryphilia blurb [18+]

rafe being the king of overstimulation [18+]

find the rest in concepts, concepts (two)

headcanons !

lazy morning sex with rafe [18+]

prompts !

"go get one of your toys. let's make this even better." [18+]

"your boyfriend doesn’t need to know about this." [18+]

"i’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard." [18+]

"i love that we both already finished, and your legs are still shaking." [18+]

"i bet i can make you cum without even touching you." [18+]

tag !

#rafe cameron

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[peachesofteal]

Sunlight

Part six of the Sassy series

Simon Riley/female reader 3.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI (no smut but this fic has mature themes), mentions of violence, blood/injury and bombs, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, PTSD, dissociation, fluff, little bit of angst, comfort, caretaking. Simon was due home four days ago.

The clock reads two in the morning. Your tea sits cold on the coffee table, television droning on mindlessly in the background at a low volume, so it doesn’t wake Theo. You’ve given up the incessant pacing for laying on the couch, the cushions sagging in the middle where Simon usually sits, the creak in the armrest on his side a surprisingly comforting sound compared to the repetitive tick of the clock's second hand.

His bag waits by the door. Theo sleeps in the wrap that has him tied to your chest, his face squished against your skin, long lashes laying flush against his cheeks. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” you whisper, notching your fingers into the crook of Simon’s elbow. You apply soft pressure, just enough to draw him closer to you, until he’s standing with an arm around your back, leaning down to nuzzle Theo. 

“I’m sure, Sass.” You swallow a rebuttal, the anxiety of him leaving for an op crawling up your throat, threatening to spill out in the form of unnecessary pleas for assurances that he’ll be coming back. 

Promises that he’ll be coming home. 

Promises that he’ll never be able to make. 

He pulls away with a sigh, cradling your face and tilting your chin upwards, before sealing his lips over yours, parting your mouth with his tongue and tasting you. 

“Only a few weeks, yeah?” his thumb strokes along your cheekbone while he presses a whisper soft kiss to the top of the baby’s head. You nod. 

“Only a few weeks.”

“Where are you, Si.” It’s the fourth night of this, the waiting. The overdue arrival bears down on you, reducing you to a nervous mess, something you’ve never been before Theo, before him.

You used to sit still, sit silent.

Now, you’re pacing holes into the floor of your house, waiting for the missing piece of your family to come home, four days overdue.

Four days overdue. The first night you tried not to let it eat at you. Things happen. Combat engagement, recon, overwatch, anything could take longer than initially planned or expected. The second night, your rational thought started to slip. Worst case scenarios started to play out in your mind, the stress of not knowing what’s going on keeping you awake, keeping you on edge. You’d cuddle Theo for hours, nose pressed to the crown of his head, hand softly patting his back as you rocked him, trying not to watch your phone as you waited for the text from the restricted number. By the third night, you were dread spiraling. Who would make the call? Would it be Price, knocking on your door with regret in his eyes, carrying the news that your son’s father, your partner, is dead? Would it be Kyle? Or Johnny? Fear spread through you like a virus. He can’t be gone. He can’t. He promised. 

Tonight, you were uncertain. It would take a lot to kill Simon Riley, would take even more to kill Ghost. But what if he’s been taken again? What if he’s being tortured? Or worse. What if he needs you? Your stomach flips violently as you freefall through all the possibilities.

“Where are you?”

“Yeah Johnny, I’ll tell him. Be safe.” You hang up the phone and look at Simon out of the corner of your eye. 

“Simon… why didn’t you tell me you took indefinite leave?”

“I told ya I took leave.”

“You didn’t want to mention that it’s indefinite? That you didn’t give him a return date?”

“Didn’t know when it’d be. Didn’t want to commit to anything.” You roll over slowly to where he’s lying on his back, propped up slightly with a pillow. Fingers drag under his sweatshirt and up his stomach, until your palm lays flat over his heart. 

“Are you planning on going back? To the 141?” 

“When he really needs me, he’ll call. ‘Til then, I want to be here. With you.” His fingertips stroke slowly over where your belly is covered by the blanket, until he’s moving it aside and the heat of his skin is against yours.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake. You sit up, blanket pooling around your lap, blindly groping for your phone when the mass of a shadow shifts just at the very edge of your line of sight. Almost like it’s not there at all.

It takes you three, maybe four, seconds before you rationalize everything. Your eyes adjust, and you can make out the lines of his body, the extremely dim light from the hallway illuminating the balaclava, the way his shoulders are hunched forward, hands curled atop his knees.

“Simon?” your throat scratches. He doesn’t respond. You stretch to the side, pulling the chain on the end table lamp, and the light dances across his face. You blink in surprise.

He’s still wearing the paint. 

“Ghost.” The call sign comes out more like a command, but calm, and his muscles tense under his clothes, fingers digging into his legs. You reach for his hand, keeping your touch as light as possible.

“Don’t.” he snaps, jerking backwards. You can hear the harsh line of his breathing, the tense crackle between his lungs.

“Okay.” Your mind is cycling, your own memories gnawing at you until you refocus, and then your phone vibrates in the spot where it’s fallen between the couch cushions. He lurches. “It’s just my phone.” You keep your voice soft, nearly as gentle as when you sing to Theo. A beat passes, and then he nods. You breathe a very small sigh of relief. He’s in there. “Do you want to take the balaclava off?” you coax, and he grunts out the first words you’ve heard him say in weeks.

“The paint.”

“We can take that off too.” His eyes flick up towards yours, and you see him, Simon, for only a second before he’s shuttered again. “Will you come with me?” He doesn’t answer. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. “Okay. Wait here.” You instruct, pushing a little more authority behind your voice, and step away slowly.

After you dart to your room to grab some sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, both Simon sized, you plug the sink in the kitchen. This will be easier than trying to get him up the stairs. Your first step is to get the balaclava off, and then the paint, if he’ll let you touch his face. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get him out of his clothes and into the clean ones.

You’ve seen this before. Not often, not enough that it’s comfortable, but enough that you know more or less what to do, so when you duck back into the living room and see he hasn’t moved, you square your shoulders.

“I’m going to bring you into the kitchen. You’re going to take my hand and follow my lead.”

“On you.” He rasps, and tears smart at the corners of your eyes.

“On me. I’ve got you.”

“We’re moving on second location. Sassy, what’s your status?” 

“I’ve found the bombs.” You don’t elaborate, too busy studying the heap of melted plastic. You think it’s Semtex, or some form of it, but can’t be sure. It barely has the odor, the one you can usually smell nearly half a mile away, and the rubber casing is green, not red. “Captain, I’ve got a situation. Gonna need more time, over.” 

“Copy. We’ll give you all we can.” You pull the gun from your shoulder and put it on a table before crouching before the greenish blob. There’s a small cut in the casement, and you lift it with slow fingers to reveal a square piece of metal, blinking with a red light. Detonation. 

“Nice and easy,” You mutter, disconnecting it from its power supply and watch with satisfaction when the light dies. “No explosions here today, folks. All-“ There’s a click, and a hiss, and then yellow fog explodes directly into your face. “What the fuck.” You choke, hands shooting forward. Your eyes begin to burn, and you frantically try to pat away whatever it is with your sleeves. 

You blink a few times and try to focus, pushing past the stinging sensation and the tears that are dripping down your cheeks. Your body felt fine, you weren’t experiencing any major pain that could be associated with injury, and you still had feeling in all extremities. You could hear the rumble of the HVAC system in the building, and the echo of shots coming from both inside and outside, but your vision was still dark. Black, like someone had flicked the lights off. 

A blackout. It was like you were in a noxious, corrosive blackout. 

Your mind starting turning. Not good, this was not good. This was worse than not good. You were physically blinded. Alone, in hostile territory with no way to navigate an escape route. 

A sitting duck. Ripe for the picking. 

“Captain-“ your finger releases the button and you take a shaky breath. “Price. I need extraction. I’ve been hit with something. A chemical. It’s critical. I won’t make rendezvous on my own.” 

“Stay your position, Sassy.” The answer is immediate, and you breathe a very small sigh of relief. 

“Copy.” You hold your hands out in front of you, one high, one low, and walk slowly in what you think is the direction of your gun. One step, two step. Right, left. Your fingers slide along the edge of the table, moving across the top until you feel the cool metal of your weapon and take it into your hands. You try to remember the layout of the room, where the door was, how many tables and chairs, but your panic is starting to bear down on you, and your thoughts are growing more erratic, clouded with fear. 

The sound of metal on metal, the door banging open into the wall, startles you.

 You swing, unsure where it is you’re even looking or even pointing. 

“Sass! Lower your weapon.” A voice barks. His voice. 

“Ghost.” You croak. The word sounds broken. 

“Bloody hell. What’re you doing?” You can barely hear his footsteps, but his voice is moving closer. Damn stealth operators and their light feet. 

“I can’t see you.” you try to explain, try to make it make sense but even saying the words seem ludicrous. “I can’t see anything. The… the Semtex, it gassed me, or something.” 

“Let me see.” Big, gloved fingers hold your face, turning it from side to side. “Can’t see at all?” 

“Nothing.” You gulp. “I’ve never… I’ve never had this happen, it was a chemical, I don’t know what-“ Blind. Poisoned. It could be permanent. The air in the room suddenly feels thin, and then the gun is being pulled from your grip. 

“Simon.” You say his name with a gasp for the first time since Belize and he draws a sharp breath. Your own is coming in frantic gasps, the taste of panic souring on your tongue, compressing your spine until it hurts. Blind. You’ve been blinded. 

“Sass, hey. Sass! Listen to me.” The only thing you can hear is your harsh panting. Blind. Poison. Blind. Poison. “I’m right here with you. I’m going to get you out.”  

“You’re g-going to get me out.” 

“That’s right.” He pauses, and you hear fidgeting, the clink of metal and rustling of something you can’t place. “I’ve got you, Sass.” You sink into the grit and grain of his voice, settling your wildly thumping heart, and a rough, calloused hand takes yours, thumb stroking over your knuckles. “I’m going to take lead. You’re gonna hold onto my vest and stay right on my heel, yeah?” 

“O-okay… Hostiles?” 

“Negative. All clear.” He guides you to a strap at his side, and you grip as tight as you can. You hear him shifting and then the comm clicks. “Price. I found Sass. Making our way to exfil now. Out here.” Another pause. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” A hand squeezes where you’re latched onto him, and you nod, even though you don’t have a clue if he’s looking at you or not. 

“On me. I’ve got you.” 

“On you.”

He sits stiffly in the kitchen chair that you’ve dragged over to the sink.

“I’m going to take the balaclava off.” He nods once, in acknowledgement, and your fingers find the edge of the fabric. It’s hard, crusted with something, blood, you assume, and you roll it upwards, careful not to make any sudden movements. When he doesn’t jerk away, you give him an encouraging smile, pulling it up past his mouth, and then over his head as gently as you can. “That’s good, Simon. You’re okay.” You tell him, and the corners of his eyes soften a fraction. You dip the washcloth into the sink, below the surface of the lukewarm, soapy water, before squeezing it out. “I’m going to try to get some of the paint off now.” You narrate every step, grounding him, guiding him through your actions so that he knows what’s coming, so he can prepare in all states of his mind. “You’re doing really well, Si. Really good.” You soothe, pressing the cloth gently to his skin, dabbing the paint away slowly and timing the pace of his breathing in your head.

“Have you seen LT?” Soap slings an arm your neck, pulling you in for a half hug, and you try to push him off. He’s still sweaty and gross, and a little bit bloody, while you’re freshly showered and bandaged. Why he waits so long to get cleaned up, you’ll never know. 

“Nah, haven’t. Did you check his room?” 

“Thought you might want to.” He raises an eyebrow and you cut him a glare. He’s been onto the two of you since the 141 left Belize two weeks ago, and he’s smug about it.

“Shut up, Soap.” You silence him, but unease gnaws at you like it’s burning a pit in your stomach. Where is he? “If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.” You assure the sergeant before he gives you a mock salute and takes off. 

He isn’t in his room after all, he’s in yours. Still in full tac gear, hard mask on over the balaclava, he sits like a stone on the edge of your bed. 

“Hey, Johnny was looking for you.” you say, kicking your shoes off. Your muscles scream when you bend to pick them up, your body sore from a forty-three-hour op that felt like it was never going to end. “Hello?” you push when he doesn’t answer you, turning to study him. His muscles are coiled, everything so tight that he looks like he’s a second from breaking apart, and he has his eyes trained on the wall, on the blank space between the closet and the bathroom. What is happening? 

“Simon?” you hedge, but he just stays shock still. “Hey…” you step a little closer, leaning down to get into his line of sight. He doesn’t even blink. “Ghost?” you try, and it ripples through him like a wave, his jaw shifting, molars grinding against one another slowly. Okay, you breathe deeply. Okay. Should you go get Johnny? You look at him again. Yeah. Johnny will know, Johnny will be able to-

“Sass.” His voice sounds different. It’s still the same, deep gravel that you dream about, but something about it is lighter. Unsure. “I… can’t get the paint off.” You frown and try to cover your confusion. The paint? He’s still in his combat gear. You study him again. His body is still frozen, like he’s stuck, and you chew on a lip. Something is very not right here. 

“Okay. Let’s take care of that then.” You keep your voice even and smooth, moving slowly. He closes his eyes when your fingers brush against the sleeve of his shirt. “I’ve got you.” you whisper, arm snaking around his back to unbuckle the pulley strap on his vest. He nods, nearly imperceivable to a civilian, but to you, someone who knows, who understands that every muscle, every fidget is accounted for in combat, it’s enough. After you get the vest free, you skate along the hem of his shirt to where the balaclava lays, and then up to the edge of the mask. “I’m going to take the mask off.” You release the clip that holds it in place, and let it fall into your waiting hand, revealing the black paint spread around his eyes and across his nose. He blinks, a harsh breath coming from his now shaking body and you still, fingers hovering in his line of sight. “It’s alright.” You voice wavers but you shove it down, adopting a firmer tone, something more commanding. “Let’s get the balaclava off, yeah?” His hands flex on your mattress, and you glance over the sight of the blood crusted in the creases of his knuckles. “I’m still right here. With you.” you remind him, pulling it up his face and then over in one movement, not eager to draw it out. The tendons in his forearms pulse, but he doesn’t move. “I’m going to go get a… cloth. Or something. For the paint. Okay? Everything’s… gonna be okay.” He gives you another miniscule nod, and his eyes flicker to yours for a brief second before returning to the spot on the wall.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you.” You smile, and he starts to relax more, the harsh lines at the corners of lips easing.

“The sunlight.” He says, and you glance at the window where the first rays of morning are peeking through the pane.

“Yeah, must be close to dawn.” You can feel his muscles turning soft underneath your hands, his shoulders gradually sinking lower and lower, the tension in his face melting away with every second.

Theo cries from his room.

Simon’s eyes flash, and his hand darts forward to wrap around your wrist, thumb pressing to where your pulse beats.

“It’s just Theo.” At the sound of the baby’s name, his stress decreases, but he doesn’t release you. You reach for your back pocket, where your phone is, thumbing the screen open to your photos, scrolling through the favorites until you find the dimly lit picture that the nurse snapped for you the night Theo was born. You turn it towards him, and his brows crease slightly, realization, recognition working its way through his mind. “It’s my favorite.” You insist, pressing the phone into his palm, while pulling free from his grasp. You watch his pupils contract and dilate, his lips parting when he sees himself, stiffly holding his newborn like Theo is actually a bomb. “I think we got all the paint.” He makes a noise in his throat, thumb swiping to another picture. It’s one from when Theo was three months old, and Simon is shirtless, asleep on his back in the bed, one arm propped behind his head. Theo is also asleep, snuggled in the crook of his dad’s arm, empty bottle discarded on the pillow. Your face is in it, tired eyes lit with mirth where you positioned yourself in the frame of the selfie, little grin tugging your mouth to the side.

“Yeah.” He’s still staring at the picture.

“Can you get undressed so I can wash those?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you into him, pressing your palm to his lips and closing his eyes. You count to five, taking long deep breaths in sync with his, before you point to the clothes on the table. “Get changed. I’m going to go get Theo, okay?” You try another question, hoping you’ll be able to switch out commands and to your relief, he clears his throat and gives you another ‘yeah’ before you step away. He reaches for you one more time, face fixed towards the sunlight before turning his gaze back up into yours.

“I love you.” His voice breaks. Your eyes start to burn with tears again.

“I love you too, Si.”

#sassy series #simon riley x reader #simon x sass #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #peaches writes

[millersdjarin]

My Hands are Shaking (From Holding Back From You)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (AFAB)

Rating: E (EXPLICIT CONTENT! 18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6k

Warnings/Tags: SMUT, i am a slut !!!!, light d/s, joel in charge, communication, praise kink, pu**y slaps, just filth!!, aftercare, pet names, rough sex, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, established relationship

Fic Masterlist

notes: my god, sweet lord, just look at him. [title from "dress" by taylor swift]

Joel’s bedroom door is hard against your back, feels solid like a wall, but it rattles on its hinges with the force of him pinning you against it. 

His hips press flush to yours, one of his thighs lifting slightly and just about brushing your centre, but not quite. He doesn’t kiss you, not at first. Just hovers his face inches from yours, his breath hot and fast and enticing. It’s like he wants you to beg. He probably does. 

He takes a hold of your hands and threads your fingers together. It’s a moment of tenderness, the first one since he grabbed you and brought you in here and shoved you against the door as soon as it was shut. 

But then he lifts your joined hands, instead joining your own together on the door above your head. He holds them there with one of his palms, smoothes the other down your shoulder, your clothed chest, your waist. He’s so close, his wet mouth right there for you to kiss—but he told you not to. Told you to follow his lead.

And if there’s one thing you love just as much as Joel’s kiss, it’s hearing him tell you how good you are for him.

So instead you bite your lip, staring down at his hungrily, waiting for him to tell you where he wants you.

He breathes out, hot against your mouth. 

“Joel…” you whimper, throbbing getting intense between your thighs as his leg teases just below your cunt. “Joel, please…” 

Somehow he pushes closer without ever touching his lips to yours. He’s so close that you can feel the hairs of his beard brushing against the space between your nose and lips. His breath is right there, so familiar, you can taste it on your tongue. It’s not enough. “Please what, darlin’?” 

“Please, kiss me…” 

He smiles. You feel it. Finally, he hitches his leg up further between your legs, and presses there just enough to coax a moan from your throat, thin and breathy. “Such good manners,” he praises, then does exactly as you ask, like he can’t ever say no to you even though he’s supposed to be calling the shots. His lips are just as beautiful as always, diving in to your mouth with wild abandon. With every kiss since the first, it’s like it gets more perfect. Like he’s always taking the time to memorise the noises you make, the way you respond beneath his mouth and his hands and his tongue, remembering what drives you crazy and just how you like it.

Your hands twitch underneath his, still pinned against the wooden door. You want to reach out and touch him, run your hands over his face, through his beard. But you can’t, and the restriction sends a throb of need to your pussy where he’s still applying just a tiny bit of pressure. 

“Mm,” Joel murmurs, the vibration strong against your mouth before he’s pulling away again, not far but far enough to observe you. “Goddamn, darlin’. You want me to just kiss you all night instead? Make you wait ’til the mornin’?” 

“Joel…” you plead as your hands instinctively try to move again, but he feels it and presses them firmer into the door, harder. “I need you. Please.” You’d beg all night, if he told you to. You need more. His kiss is perfect and all you could ever really need, but the promise of his leg between your thighs and his warm hand caressing your hip is too much to stop just here. 

He smiles again, teasing glinting in his eyes. You gaze up at him with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, until he reaches up and pulls at it, freeing it and smoothing over the red marks where you’d bitten. “Easy, tiger,” he says lowly, “don’t hurt yourself.” 

He keeps stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. You can’t help it; your tongue darts out to lick him, pulling him into your mouth. 

“I keep your hands out the way and you still manage to find a way to touch me, huh?” He says with a lopsided grin, moving his hand down to grasp at your jaw, his wet thumb on one side and his fingers on the other. He grips you hard, anchoring your gaze to him. “Be good,” he tells you, “can you do that?” 

Just short of frantic, you nod. 

“Use your words.” 

“Yes, Joel. Yeah, I’m gonna be so good for you.” 

“Good girl,” he praises softly, loosening his near-painful grip on your jaw but keeping his hand there, stroking at your skin. “Now you tell me if you want me to stop, alright?” 

You nod again, barely able to form a sentence, but at the expectant quirk of his eyebrow when you don’t give a verbal answer, you say, “I will. And you, too.” 

His face softens for a second, appreciative. He nods, then leans in, presses a soft, close-mouthed kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he breathes. 

“I love you, too.” 

Satisfied with that, he pulls back. His hand is slow as it pulls away from your jaw, like he’s trying to make the most of the touch. Keeping his eyes on yours, he slowly releases your hands. They’d started to go a little numb with the lack of blood flow. You couldn’t care less.

“Now, if you want me naked, you’re gonna have to do it yourself,” he steps slowly back towards the bed, and you follow him like you’re tied to him, like anywhere he goes you can’t help but go with him. 

Already nodding, you reach out your hands and start unbuttoning his green flannel shirt. He’s wearing a grey T-shirt underneath and you’re tugging it from the waistband of his jeans before you’ve even removed the flannel, too keen to get to his bare skin. When his navel is on show, you can’t resist; you bend down and open your mouth, going in to kiss his scarred stomach, but then his hands are rough on the back of your head as he pulls you back up to his level—

“I said undress me,” he says, raising a disapproving eyebrow. “Nothing else.” He’s pulling your hair, grabbing it in his fist. 

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, but open again in an instant, sensing his impatience. “Sorry,” you offer a sheepish smile, chin tilted up to look at him, “I couldn’t help it.” 

His thumb strokes at your cheek. “Be patient, darlin’. You said you’d be good.” 

“I will. I promise.” Your hands are shaking from holding back as you slowly remove the flannel from his shoulders, your palms brushing over the shoulders of his T-shirt, eyes falling over the bare skin where the neckline dips. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips without you even realising it. 

The T-shirt is off soon, messing up his hair as you pull it over his head. He didn’t say you could play with his hair, but you really, really want to, so you use the excuse of neatening it again to at least get a little feel. He smiles knowingly, probably seeing right through the ruse. 

“Messed you up a bit,” you explain, glancing at his eyes for a second before you pull your hands away. It takes every bit of your strength; you could run your hands through Joel’s brown and grey locks for the rest of your life and never get bored. 

He puts his hands on your waist and squeezes. It’s partially fond, partially a warning. Like he’s saying I know what you’re trying to do; get back to it.

So, you do. 

You unbuckle his belt, throwing it across the room once it’s free of its loops. Then your fingers fiddle with the button on his jeans, the fly, and you’re tugging them down towards his ankles. God, bending down in front of him like this, seeing his bulge through his boxers and the thickness of those fucking thighs…

His boxers follow the denim, springing his cock free. It’s vulgar. It’s stunning. You can’t get enough.

“Don’t get distracted,” he tells you as he steps out of his jeans and underwear and lazily kicks them towards where his belt landed. 

You drag your eyes away from his dick and nod obediently, standing back up again. Your mouth is watering, torn between wanting to kiss him or suck him off. His body is so familiar, you’ve got a map of his scars in your brain; you don’t need to look to find them. You know how his skin feels beneath your hands, know exactly where he likes to be touched. The memories of last time are still fresh in your mind, but that doesn’t dull the ache between your thighs, the burning desire in your stomach to just touch him. Let him know how fucking perfect he is. “You’re perfect,” you tell him quietly, reaching out tentative hands to press against his ribs, unsure if he’ll allow it.

He softens just a little. Reaches up one of his hands and brushes the backs of his fingers down your cheek. You just watch him, eyes locked onto him, wondering what he wants you to do next. He leans in, then, and brushes a barely-there kiss to your mouth. “Your turn,” he whispers. Before you know it, he’s tugging your shirt from your head, leaning down to unbuckle your jeans and push them to the floor. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you step out of them, absently noting the pile of clothes that has quickly developed beside you.

Before you know it, only your underwear is left. It’s a lacy pair that you saved just for tonight. Normally you have no time for something this sexy, but you were expecting this, and you wanted something special. 

“Christ,” Joel curses under his breath. He’s standing a foot away from you, softly shaking his head as his eyes look you all over from head to toe and back again. “New underwear?” He asks, eyes twinkling when they meet yours again. 

Biting your bottom lip, you nod. You know that he’s only admiring you, that not one part of him is thinking you don’t look good. But standing here under his gaze in the middle of the bedroom, far enough from his body that you can’t feel his warmth anymore, you start to feel a little self-conscious. Maybe he doesn’t like the lace. Maybe you look different today. Maybe your new cuts and bruises have turned him off. 

You cover your body with your arms, crossing them in front of you. 

Noticing, he steps closer. Reaches out and gently pulls your arms apart, gazing down into your eyes with a heart-clenching mix of desire and adoration. “Don’t hide that beautiful body,” he says, soft, not a demand but a gentle request. “Please.” 

You nod, forcing yourself to relax your shoulders, to stop closing in on yourself. 

His hands in yours, he gently leads you towards the bed, walking backwards so he can keep his eyes on yours. “Lie down for me, baby,” he says softly, sliding his hand around to the small of your back and gently pushing you towards the bed. 

You do as he asks, and feel his eyes on you as you crawl up the bed. You can feel your wetness already, leaking through the thin lace of your panties. It makes you feel self-conscious to know that he’s watching you, your ass in the air. 

“On your back,” Joel instructs. 

With a nod, you turn, and lay your head back against the pillows. Your eyes find him, standing there at the end of the bed, looking down at you in the dim light of the room. He just stares. You know it’s because he can’t get enough. But that self-doubt starts to creep in, the awareness that you’re almost entirely naked before him and at his mercy suddenly all you can think about.

Your body instinctively starts to close in on itself again, but before it can, he climbs onto the bed and crawls up so he’s lying on top of you. “You,” he says, holding your gaze, “are so beautiful.” 

You swallow a lump of something, maybe emotion, maybe anxiety. Your hand finds its way to his chest, pressing against one of his oldest scars, right above his left pec. “Joel,” you whisper. “Please. Do what you want with me. I just—I need you.” 

Like that’s just what he wanted to hear, he smiles, taking a second to brush some stray strands of hair from your face before he moves that hand down, ghosting his fingertips over the curve of your breast. “Can’t decide if I want this bra on or off,” he mutters, gazing down at it. “Makes your tits look so good, but I love seeing ’em bounce for me, too.” 

The wanton moan escapes your throat before you can think to stop it, and your hips try to grind down onto something, thighs trying their hardest to squeeze together even though Joel’s knee is between both of yours, stopping them from getting closer. 

“Oh, you like it when I talk about your tits?” 

Grasping at the back of his neck, you nod, staring at his lips with a new level of hunger. “Yeah, Joel. I do.” 

“Mm. Well, they’re fuckin’ gorgeous. How about we keep it on for a bit, then I’ll take it off and watch them bounce while I fuck you?” 

Want pulses through your core, your pussy throbbing so hard that it almost hurts. “Joel,” you whimper, “please, touch me.” 

He grins. The hand ghosting over your bare stomach moves downwards, torturously slowly, and he watches with immense pleasure as your expression gets more and more desperate, your thighs trying their hardest to press together, knees pushing against his. “So needy,” he says quietly, voice gruff and husky. Just how you like it. 

Then, his hand finds the place you want it to be. Over your panties, he presses against the hood of your clit, hard enough that you really feel it. You gasp, unable to help it.

“Joel, please, more,” you beg breathlessly. 

Cruelly, he removes his hand. You’re about to protest before he gives you a firm look, raising an eyebrow like he’s challenging you to tell him what to do and see what happens. So you close your mouth, desperate above all else to have him praise you for doing exactly what he wants. 

He takes your hands, one in each of his. At first, you expect him to pin them above your head again, but then he stretches out your arms so you’re making a T shape. He turns your hands over so your palms are against the sheets. “Keep those there,” he instructs, holding your eyes so intensely it’s like he’s looking right into your soul, “and stay still. You can grab the sheets, but that’s it. Alright?” 

Biting down on your bottom lip to the point where you can taste blood, you nod. God, you’ve gone beyond throbbing now. You’re aching. Desperate. Leaking for him, probably already making a mess on the sheets even though you’re not entirely naked. 

Joel waits for a second in case you protest or tell him to stop. Then, after a quick kiss to your lips, he ducks his head down and presses them between your breasts. Your instinct is to grasp the back of his head, pull at his hair. Your hand is moving before you give it permission, but before it can reach where it’s not supposed to go, Joel’s hand shoots out to catch it like he’d been expecting you to break the rule.

He looks up at you. “What did I say?” He asks. 

“Stay still,” you repeat, “just grab the sheets.” 

“That’s right. This was your warning. I need you to focus on doing what I tell you, okay?” 

Gasping for air, you nod. After returning your hand to its spot, he places a little kiss on your sternum, then trails his lips all the way down, stopping when they reach the lace of your panties. 

Too slowly he pulls them down, unhooking them from your ankles after what seems like hours, throwing them onto the pile. When he looks back to you, your pussy now naked and flush and glistening before him, he smiles. “Now, I liked that lace, but this is a better view, huh?” He asks rhetorically before dipping his head again, and you feel his hot breath against your wetness before anything else. 

It’s perfect, he’s just leaning in, just about to press his lips to your clit when your hand moves without permission again, out of habit reaching up to grab hold of his hair. 

He pulls away in an instant and the lack of his warmth against you is almost painful. “You’re normally so good,” he sighs, giving you a disappointed look. “Come on, on all fours. Clearly your hands need to be somewhere, so you might as well hold yourself up.” 

Throbbing, leaking onto his knee where it’s in between your legs, you nod, and manage to pull yourself up on shaky arms and turn yourself over. You start to lean down on your forearms, pressing your head into them, but Joel wraps an arm around your chest and lifts you up. 

“On all fours,” he says again, just a gentle reminder this time instead of a warning. Because you had genuinely missed the part when he said that. 

It’s only just possible to hold yourself up when you’re shaking so much, so full of desire and want and need. If you could, you’d have your hands all over him, have his cock in your mouth, his nipples beneath your fingers, his hair in your hands. 

Instead, he spreads himself out over your back, hot and heavy. He keeps the one arm around your chest, the hairs of his forearm brushing against the lace of your bra. The other hand snakes around your hip, over the curve of it, across your navel. It’s quiet in the room, just the sound of his breathing heavy in your ear.

Then, slap.

He slaps your clit, just gently, but enough to make the throbbing even worse. “You said you’d be good for me,” he mutters in your ear, “so you’re gonna take this, and then you’re gonna take my dick, and you’re only going to touch me when I say you can.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut as tears of sheer desire sting at them, you nod. You want to reach backwards, put a hand on the back of his neck. Hold him to you.

But you do as he says. 

“I’ll be good,” you promise him, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss his forearm. “Tell me how good I am while you do it, please?” 

He kisses the shell of your ear. “Always, darlin’. Always.” Then he slaps your clit again, harder this time, the sound echoing through the room. He reaches down to pull back the hood with his spare hand, then slaps again, this time even harder and more intense now that it’s making direct contact with the bundle of nerves. It stings but sends jolts of pleasure and need right to your core as more wetness gathers at your entrance. 

“Joel…” you breathe out and are cut off when he slaps again, this time three times in a row.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs against your neck, pressing his nose there and leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin, “Taking it so good, huh? Just letting me hit that gorgeous pussy as many times as I want. God, baby, you’re so perfect. So good for me. Make me feel so good…” He’s grinding against the curve of your hipbone, cock hard and hot against your skin. You gasp at the feeling, entrance pulsing with need for him to be inside you.

He keeps slapping, emphasising each one with a kiss to the pulse point behind your ear, whispering praises into the soft skin there, letting them sink right into your bones. “So good for me. Such a good girl, baby, I love you so much. Gonna give you everything you need, that's right, I got you. Think you can come just from this? From me slapping that clit?” 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to form the words.

He slaps hard. “Answer me,” he growls. 

You moan in surprise and pleasured pain. “God, Joel, I…no, I think I need…” 

“Hm? Tell me what you need, baby. Tell me, or I’ll keep slappin’ till you can’t feel anything anymore…” 

“I need you—I need you inside me, Joel, and…oh, God, that’s good,” he starts rubbing circles against your swollen clit, so hard it’s almost too much as the nerves light you up from he inside. “Just like that. Just touching me.” 

“Think you’ve learned your lesson to keep still,” Joel decides, giving the gentlest of taps to your clit before easing on the pressure a little. You sigh, unsure if it’s out of relief or disappointment. Either way, Joel soothes it with a kiss to your neck and a gentle press of his fingers returning to the swollen nub. Then he slides them down, gathering wetness from your entrance. He slowly pushes a finger inside, and it’s like heaven. The digit is warm, though too small, not enough. He’s breathing against the back of your neck, one arm still wrapped around your chest and pressing you totally flush against him. 

Then, withdrawing his wet finger, he lifts up away from you for a minute. You sigh sadly, but then realise he’s working on the clasp of your bra. It parts with a gentle click, and falls down your arms, landing on the bed in front of you. He taps at your hip. “Turn over,” he instructs, “wanna see those tits bounce will I fuck you.” 

You moan and do exactly what he says. The bra gets tangled in your arms, but he frees you from it, chucking the final piece of clothing into the pile on the floor. 

Once you’ve rolled over, Joel holds himself up over you, and you see sweat on his forehead, his jaw clenching from restraint. He looks down at your pussy, smiles at what he sees. It feels swollen, sore. It feels good.

“You good to keep going?” He checks in, softening his voice for a second as he reaches out to brush some sweaty hair from your forehead. 

You’re throbbing, aching, and the answer is yes. “Yes, Joel. I need you. Please fuck me.” 

He smiles in affirmation. Then he lines his dick up, gently sliding it between your folds, gathering wetness. The tip of it brushes against your entrance and your hips instinctively buck down against the feeling, inviting him inside. 

“Do I have to stay still?” You ask him, breathless.

He gives you an appreciative look. “As much as you can.” 

“Can I touch you?” Your hands hover in the space between you. “I don’t think I can not touch you right now.”

He sees the sincerity in your face, hears it in your voice. Nodding, he leans down to kiss one of your fingertips. “Go right ahead, baby. Do what you need to do.” 

Grateful, your hands fly to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair and holding him there, never wanting him to move. He closes his eyes briefly. His cock is still brushing through your folds and you hear it, so wet and slick and filthy.

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding down to hold his cheek. His perfect, perfect cheek. He opens an eye to look at you. “Please, Joel. I’ve been good, haven’t I?” 

He tilts his head to kiss your palm. “The best, as always,” he says. Then, in one fluid motion, he pushes inside you, buries himself right to the hilt.

A cry leaves your mouth. Your head tips back, eyes going to the ceiling. 

But his hand slaps under your chin, then grabs it, pulling you back to look at him. “That, I won’t have,” he tells you. “You look right at me. Focus, right here. Got it?” 

It’s never been a chore to look at him. You nod desperately, grasping onto him because it’s all you can do.

He uses one hand to spread your legs as wide as they’ll go, bending them at the knee then laying them down against the bed, leaving you in a frog-like pose. You’re completely exposed before him, entirely naked and at his mercy. You couldn’t close your legs if you wanted to. 

Then he’s back inside again. This time, the thrust is harder. It hits right against your cervix and he lingers there, revelling in the way you have to try your hardest to not let your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“I’m gonna fuck you real hard,” he tells you. “Is that okay?” 

Frantic, more frantic than you think you’ve ever been in your life, you nod. “Yes, Joel. God, please, that’s what I need—”

He doesn’t wait for any further confirmation.

He pulls out, shoves back into you with as much force as he can. The first few thrusts are every few seconds, giving you a chance to adjust. But as the whines get more desperate in your throat, as your nails start to dig in to the top of his back, he gets faster. You can feel your tits bouncing just like he wanted, so much that it stimulates your nipples with each thrust and feels so good. You want to play with them, want to squeeze your breasts in your hands, but Joel didn’t say you could touch yourself, so you don’t. 

Instead, you keep your eyes locked onto his face where he closes his eyes, his mouth hanging open just a little. You could take the opportunity to look away while he’s not paying attention, but you want him to open his eyes again and see that you’ve done exactly as he told you to. 

“Fuck,” he moans as his thrusts get faster, harder. He grabs you by the hips, pulling you down onto him. His dick is hitting the highest point it can get to, and it hurts in the best way, the kind of pain that turns instantly into pleasure, shooting out to every nerve ending in your body. 

“Fuck, Joel, that’s so good—yes, fuck me, fuck me hard—”

“You’re so perfect,” he opens his eyes again and looks proud when he sees that you’re still looking at him. “So good for me. Such a good girl. God, look at you, those tits bouncing with my cock…God, I bet you wanna touch ’em, don’t you, darlin’? You wanna touch yourself?” 

Your clit literally needs it, and you know that Joel knows that, knows that that’s what it takes to get you over the edge. But he’s leaving you without it for now, and it doesn’t worry you. He’ll get to that. He always does. 

For now, you just enjoy the feeling of him fucking you into the mattress, your spread legs straining with the force of trying to keep them still. They start to raise up a little, knees lifting from the bed. He slaps a hand down on each one, pushing them down. 

“Oh, God, Joel,” you curse as your nails scratch down his back, trying to find purchase.

“You wanna press those thighs together, don’t you?” He asks gruffly. “You wanna lift those legs and grind against my dick, touch your clit til you come, that right?” 

“Yeah,” you pant. “Yeah, Joel.” 

“I’ll do it for you,” he promises, and lifts a hand from your knee to press it against your clit. The sensation is white-hot, overwhelming, sending sparks of pleasure all through your centre and as far as it can go. “Yeah, darlin’, that’s it. That feel good? You gonna come?” 

“Mm!” Is all you can manage. The knee that he isn’t holding in place is trying to twitch up, trying to bend more comfortably. But you don’t let it. You won’t. He told you to stay still as best you can, and you can do this. 

“I know you wanna move,” he leans down so he can rest your forehead against his. “I know, baby. But you’re doing so good. Look at you, baby, doin’ what I ask. God, I’m so proud of you. Taking me so well. Come for me, please, baby.” 

You cry out as he starts rubbing harder circles against your clit, in time with his hard thrusts that somehow are getting more intense, harder—

“I said,” he stops suddenly, just pushing in once against you, burying himself to the hilt. “Come. Come on my cock now, baby. Be good for me. I know you can do it,” he starts to thrust again as pleasure coils tighter in your stomach. “That’s it, atta girl…keep your eyes on me now, don’t look away, let me see that face…”

You’re clenching around him, practically gushing. Pleasure sparks behind your eyes and you fight with all your might to keep them locked on Joel’s face at all times. It’s hard, but as your orgasm rises, the little itch of self-consciousness is gone and all you can do is chase your pleasure, unbothered by how you might look beneath him, fucked-out and trying your hardest to stay still. Your orgasm washes over you slowly and all at once, hitting you with force and keeping you up high for as long as it can.

His hand is rough on your hip, fingers digging in. “Shit, baby, felt so good…I’m gonna…” 

“Come inside me,” you say to him, holding the back of his neck. His eyes find yours again, asking a silent question. “Please, Joel. Please.” 

He does. 

His face relaxes, and it looks like he’s forcing himself to keep his eyes on you, too, like he’s returning the favour. You cradle his face through his climax, feeling every muscle tense and then relax all at once. He spills inside you, and as his thrusts get more erratic, it starts to squeeze out from your core with each push and pull of his cock. 

He stills. All you can hear is both of your panting breaths, feeling the sweaty skin of his back, his muscles flexing over his shoulder blades. His chest rises and falls. His face hovers above yours, panting into your mouth. 

"Oh, fuck," you whisper. "Fuck."

“You okay?” He asks, breathy. 

You hold the back of his neck. “Yes,” you answer. “Are you?” 

“Never better,” he smirks, then presses a kiss to both of your cheeks, your nose, your chin. He’s still inside you. You’re already dreading him pulling out. 

Self-consciousness creeps in again. There’s sweaty hair sticking to your face. He just fucked you into oblivion, you can’t even remember the noises you might have made. His hands have been all over you. You didn’t move your eyes away once. 

Until now. You cover your eyes with the crook of your elbow, shielding yourself from view as best you can. 

Joel presses tender kisses to your forearm. Then he lifts a hand and slowly coaxes your arm away. “Please don’t hide from me,” he whispers. “Darlin’, you’re perfect. I already told you.” 

“You weren’t just saying that cause you wanted to get lucky?” You tease, peeking out from behind the remaining cover. 

He chuckles. “You’re always perfect,” he says, like it’s a promise. “You don’t have to hide. I love you, you know that.” 

You let your arm fall back onto the bed, but close your eyes. “I just…I just need a minute,” you whisper to him, letting the darkness behind your eyelids soothe you, enjoying the moment of a little privacy. 

He strokes your cheek. “You did so good,” he whispers. “So, so good, darlin’. Kept your eyes on me the whole damn time. You take as much time as you need; I ain’t going anywhere.” 

You nod, and let the promise sink in. 

One of your hands lifts to stroke at his side, all the way from his hip to his ribs. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest as his breaths start to even out. He’s still propped up above you, still inside you.

“I’m going to pull out now,” he says quietly. “So I can clean us up a bit. Is that okay? Do you need more time?”

You think about it for a second, then shake your head. “I’m okay. Just—go slow. I’m already a little sore.”

He waits just in case you change your mind. Then, slowly, carefully, he pulls out his cock. It leaves your hole with a wet pop, and it hurts just a little, your insides and your clit sore from the action. 

A whimper escapes your lips.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning up to kiss your face. “You alright? That hurt?” 

“I’m alright. It did, but it’s okay.” 

“It got pretty intense there for a bit. I didn’t take it too far?” 

With your eyes still closed, you shake your head, and give a blissed-out smile. Pleasure is still buzzing beneath your skin, warm and comforting. “No.” 

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingers there for a second. “I’m gonna draw us a bath, how’s that sound?” 

“Perfect,” you sigh. Then, taking in the throbbing still in your core, the swelling of your clit, “I’m still feeling really sensitive.” 

“Mm,” he hums sympathetically, stroking at your face. “Just relax, honey. I gotcha. You need painkillers? Ice?”

You don’t need to look at him to find his beard, running your hands through it comfortingly. Warmth settles in your chest, peace as you recover. “No. Just you. And a bath sounds good.”

“I’ll go turn on the water.” 

As he starts to get up, you pull him back on instinct. Your eyes open, finding him looking down at you with a soft frown. “Joel…” you feel vulnerable, so open here below him, so raw and aching. 

“I know, I know,” he soothes, “it’s alright. The damn bath takes near twenty minutes to run, so I’ll switch it on, and then I’ll be back. Okay?”

You hold his hand for a moment longer, then nod.

He’s back before you know it, a warm, wet washcloth in one hand. “You feeling up to me cleaning you off?” 

You wrinkle your nose, thinking about it. “Be gentle,” you say, “try it.” 

He nods. Kneeling down between your legs, he starts to gently wipe at your lingering wetness, taking extra care around your over-sensitive clit. Everything feels heightened and numb at the same time, but Joel’s hands are so soft and familiar that it feels comforting, makes you feel cared for.

Once he’s done, he reaches over to the bedside table and hands you a glass of water. “Have a drink, honey,” he says, gently coaxing you to sit up a little, holding the glass up to your mouth. You do, enjoying the cool water as it hits your throat. You’d moaned more than you realised; your throat feels sore. 

Joel has a sip too, then he pulls the blankets up from the bottom of the bed, tucks you both in beside each other. “You wanna cuddle, or do you need some space?” 

You shake your head. “Cuddle,” you answer without needing to think about it.

He pulls you in, turning you over to press your back to his chest. He’s so warm, his arm strong and familiar wrapped around your waist. His lips press to the back of your head, nose pressing against your hair. “You did such a good job, baby. I love you,” he whispers, “so much.” 

You kiss his knuckles. “I love you, too.” 

“Don’t fall asleep. We might flood the place if we forget the bath.” 

“I won’t,” you laugh a little. “Still too wired.” 

He presses a comforting kiss to your shoulder, hugs you in tight. “I'm here. I got you, baby.”

{end}

notes: yes hello i have been in a state of peril since my joel miller brain rot was reactivated (it never deactivated) with the show. i hope this eased it for y'all like it did me 😩 good luck out there fellow horny babes, take care of yourself, ily very much xo if you have any joel smut requests, hit me up ❤️

ps: this is fanfiction during the apocalypse so we make allowances but in real life don't forget to always practice safe sex!!! ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller story #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel smut #joel miller smut #my fic: joel #my fic: joel smut

[lipglossanon]

Ease Into Passionate Suspense

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

an anon request from a couple of months ago; thank you for your patience and hope you enjoy! 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, dirty talk, use of sex toys (vibrating panties), dirty talk, oral (f receiving), semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✌️just a little short and sweet fic

title from Punchline by Chevelle

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

The car ride is something out of a nightmare. Well not really, but it’s close enough. 

The vibrating panties are on the lowest setting and yet you feel like you’re gonna lose your mind. Leon keeps grinning at you as he drives you both a little ways out of town for this date. 

You’re excited, in more ways than one, and have been really looking forward to tonight. You dolled yourself up by your standards and preened under Leon’s hot and heavy gaze when he knocked on your door to drop off the surprise toy for you to wear. 

Pressing you against your vanity, he knelt down in front of you, eyes dark, sliding your lace panties off only to help you into the vibrating pair he bought.

Coming back to the present, your body feels hot—feverish, tucked away in a booth across from Leon in the back of this busy diner. 

He’s smirking, pushing his sandy fringe from his hungry eyes as he stares at you. 

“Doing okay, princess?”

Nodding in reply, you keep quiet, afraid if you stop biting your lip a moan will slip out instead. 

You watch as Leon fiddles with his phone and the vibrating panties buzz a little stronger, making your pussy clench around nothing. 

Eyes fluttering shut for a moment, you whisper, “Please, Leon, I can’t take it, you’ll make me cum.”

His eyes dart down to your shirt to see your hard nipples showing through. 

“But our date just started,” he grins, lowering the vibration down just a little making you slump back in your seat. 

“Good thing they’re so busy huh,” he leans forward, grabbing your hands to tug you closer so both of you have your elbows on the table to lean into each others personal space.

He kisses you, soft and wet, tongue gliding along your bottom lip as you sigh into his mouth. 

He pulls away enough to whisper, “Mmm bet your little cunt’s soaked. Can’t wait to taste it, gonna eat you out in the backseat for hours after this.”

You shiver, hands clasping tightly around his as he kisses your earlobe. 

“Lick that swollen little clit over and over,” he kisses the shell of your ear, “then suck it in my mouth til you’re begging to cum. I’m just going to tongue that hot drippy pussy as long as I want tonight.”

Your thighs press together so tightly that your shorts bite into the skin.  

“Keep going,” you breathe out, glassy eyes making him smirk.

“But baby sis, you already know how much I like tasting your cunt,” he rumbles in your ear making your eyes cross, “we haven’t even ordered yet and you want me to take you out to the car and make out with that pretty pussy, is that right?”

“Big brother,” you whine, voice soft, “you’re being so mean, ‘m soaking through my panties, what if my seat’s all wet when we leave?”

His nostrils flare and he grabs your hand, pulling you to the entrance. 

“We’ll eat somewhere else,” he tosses over his shoulder as your feet clumsily follow after him. 

Briskly walking through the parking lot, he pushes you in the backseat once you both reach the car. He follows after, making sure to lock the doors.

“Fucking hell,” he groans once he yanks off your shorts and sees how wet you’ve made the panties, “they’re practically see through, princess.”

He’s pushing them to the side as he licks across your swollen clit.  

“Leon,” your back bows, legs finding their way over his shoulders as you grind against his mouth. 

Leon grabs your ass and raises your hips so he can lick into your pussy easily, eagerly lapping up all the slick dripping from your hole. The vibration is still set to a low buzz making your toes curl.  

“Oh fuck, big brother,” your hands tangle in his hair, “your mouth feels so good, ‘m gonna cum really fast.”

Pulling away, he yanks the panties off of your legs and drops them into the floorboard, eagerly shoving his back into your soaked cunt. He groans, the vibrations running through your fluttering walls as his tongue fucks in and out of your cunt. Shaking his head back and forth, he rubs his nose against your swollen clit making you whine and hump his mouth. 

His tongue slides out of your pussy with a wet schlick and his mouth hungrily latches onto your clit and sucks. Your back bows, shoulders pressing harshly against the arm rest of the door as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Quickly covering your mouth, you cry out as you rub your messy cunt against Leon’s face, his dark blue eyes watching as you cum against his mouth. 

He eases you down into the backseat, fumbling with his button and fly, shoving his jeans and underwear down to his thighs and rubbing his dripping cock all across your sensitive slit. 

“Leon,” you whimper.

He bottoms out with a loud moan as you whine, nails scratching against his covered chest. 

“Such a wet fucking pussy, baby sis,” he grinds his cock deep into your pulsing walls, “just let me fill you up and we’ll go to dinner.”

Your legs wrap around his waist as your hands slip from his chest up to clasp around his neck. 

“Fuck me, Leon,” you murmur, eyes hooded and brain fuzzy with endorphins, “wanna feel full.”

“God damn,” he bites out, eyes flashing down at you as he grins, “slutty cunt needs to get creamed by big brother’s cock?” 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. 

He pistons into your squelching cunt over and over again, slick dribbling from your stuffed hole as he rubs against your g-spot. 

“Oh big brother, I’m gonna cum again,” you tug him in, lips ghosting across his swollen mouth, “I’m gonna cum all over your big cock.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groans almost sounding pained, “fuck dinner, gonna take you to a hotel instead and rail your goddamn brains out.”

“Yes, please,” you rock into his thrusts, both of you chasing your own climax, “just keep me stuffed with that fat cock all night.”

“Yeah, pussy needs to be bred as much as possible,” he kisses you hotly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

That’s the final straw for you, legs tightening around him as your pussy clamps down on his dick, orgasm making your spine arch as you cry out against his lips.  

Leon grunts, pistoning his cock deep into your pulsing cunt. Burying himself to the hilt, he spills inside all hot and sticky stuffing your pussy full of cum. 

“Take it, take it, like a good girl,” he pants, eyes shut tight as he bucks forward, “take every fucking drop, princess.”

Whining, you scratch red lines against his bulging biceps and tense forearms, needing to dig your nails into his skin as he creams your pussy. 

“Big brother,” you whimper, “s’hot inside.”

“God damn,” he hisses, burying his face in your neck, “gonna get me hard again.”

You pet your hands through his sweaty hair as you both lay there in the backseat trying to catch your breath. He pushes himself up on his arms, eyes staring down at you. 

His lips twitch up into a smirk, “Wanna go for round two or should we actually go to dinner, princess?”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepbro!leon s kennedy #stepbro!leon s kennedy smut #stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #stepcest #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #one shot #short and sweet

[emotionaldisaster909]

Hi! I discovered "a long and slow recovery" thanks to your art, and let me say, I will never be over it. I loved it so much I was wondering if you had any other hualian fanfic recommendations?

Hello!!! Oh I’m sorry for such a late reply, but thank you so much for asking!!!

I’m thrilled to share with you and everyone my pride and joy, my precious, handpicked treasure hoard:

✨My TGCF bookmarks ✨

More than 200, all of them hualian

Besides ALASR, my beloved, mwah, here are some of my

Absolute favourites:

1. The bestest of them all, Mt. Taincang reunion postcanon fic that i consider my personal canon

“and I will surround you with a love too deep for words”

2. The best huge-ass slow-burn modern AU in the best Hua Cheng POV

“possibly, maybe”

3. The most heartbreakingly adorable de-aging memory loss Hong-er fic

“Little Red”

4. Absolutely amazing modern au where trans!Xie Lian decides to start a family with Hua Cheng, literally brought me to tears ,-,

“Orchids in Bloom”

5. The best vampire!Hua Cheng canonverse fic I’ve ever dreamed of, literally all I need

“Sweeter than Wine”

6. A different take on the reunion, my close second favourite first time fic, so soft and tender y-u

“Ever After”

7. THE bottom Hua Cheng fic ever, no words, just READ IT

“desire”

8. THE bottom WU MING! Fic ever, oh my god it’s so freaking good

“Let me be devoted, let me be greedy”

9. And this. Oh god. I have FEELINGS about this one. An awesome concept modern-AU fic that blew my mind

“We Stan Scrap Gege!”

10. This pure genius of Human by day/Animal by night AU by the same author

“At Night I Rose and Fell”

11. And THIS. Oh fuck. It’s huge. It’s awesome. It’s different first meeting, slow-burn, hidden identity, it’s

“’Til our compass stands still”

12. And this ohmygod this is one, omg, small, but the best reincarnation au, I’m crying

“reaching for heaven is what i'm on earth to do”

13. Aand this is the SECOND best reincarnation au from the same author i’m sorry I just have to include

“and the rain won't make any difference”

Aaand by now this list might become too long, so I just must separate some of my

Favourite authors:

Boomchick, Linisen, Natterina, Saenda, miska_za, debwriting, citronverveine, corduroyserpent, demihualian

Practically every fic by them is my favourite, but god, there are so much more, they all deserve recognition, so, if my taste is to your liking, ask away for more hualian fic recs!!!

THANK YOU AGAIN!

You’re very very welcome! 💖🌿

#heaven officials blessing #tian guan ci fu #tgcf #tgcf fic #tgcf fics #tgcf fic rec #hualian #hualian fic #hualian fics #hualian fic rec #xie lian #hua cheng #tgcf fandom #天官赐福 #花怜

[claymorexpunisher]

Brats Have More Fun (Ch. 6/?) (18+ Fic)

Pairing(s): Drew McIntyre/Fem. Reader

Summary: Bratty Reader decided she can't wait til her Daddy wakes up. So, Drew decides to teach her a lesson.

Disclaimer: This series is mostly NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately, so if you choose to click on my work regardless, use your own discretion. Thank you for the love always and enjoy this cheesy porno! 🥂

Chapter Tags: 18+, forced orgasms, kink, consensual somnophilia (if you blink), oral sex (male and female receiving), throatfucking, vaginal fingering, squirting, PIV, overstimulation, Daddy!Drew, Bratty!Reader.

Word Count: 1,501

As the morning came and my body slowly began to wake up along with the morning sun.

Patience wasn't my virtue by any means, and at this point in our relationship, Drew understood that.

But that didn't mean that he didn't have fun punishing me for my impatience.

I couldn't wait to have my boyfriend- my Daddy- inside of me...

So, I didn't wait.

No, I let the pads of my fingers dance along his shirtless broad chest, down to his navel and back again.

Each time, I got dangerously close to the waistband of his boxers, my fingers inching ever so slightly inside every time.

The plan wasn't to wake him, so every time his sleeping body would shift, I pulled my hand away only to bring it back to his muscled body.

I let myself finally reached down and cup his balls over his boxers before I softly stroked his cock, delighting in the way in hardened in my grip.

I giggled to myself as Drew's hips bucked lightly into my hand and I finally slipped my hand inside to pull him out of his boxers, giving his cock a few firm tugs before I adjusted my body, kneeling between his legs and taking him into my mouth.

My cheeks grew hot, and my body followed suit as Drew released soft grunts the more my mouth sucked and my tongue swirled, moaning softly myself as the taste of him landed on my tongue.

I wasn't at all graceful, messily distributing my saliva along his shaft as I sucked on the head of his cock, lightly tapping it against my mouth, once again delighting in the way his cock and his hips seemed to follow my every move.

My delight was short-lived as my eyes raked up his body, only to see his blue eyes looking down at me.

A single dimple creased his cheek as I realized I was caught, and my body immediately froze.

"Oh no... don't stop now, love. Keep going." Drew mumbled; his voice gruff with sleep mixed with amusement.

It took me a minute to process his words before he took his cock firmly in his hand and guided it back into my mouth, filling my throat with its thickness.

I let out a muffled noise of protest, my eyes watering quickly as I gagged a little.

But his forcefulness only served in waking every nerve ending in my body that much more...

I could feel the wetness of my juices pooling inside my panties.

I didn't have to look to know there'd be a dark wet stain in them, my arousal over being used clearly visible for him to see.

"What? You wanted my cock so fucking bad. Now you don't wanna take it?- Keep your hands up here." Drew commanded, moving my hands to either side of his body just as I went to reach between my legs to give my clit some relief.

The tense muscles in his neck were prominent and my fingers gripped the sheets as his hips thrusted relentlessly.

I watched through teary eyes as Drew's head lolled back onto the pillow and he cursed gruffly as I managed to swallow, my throat squeezing him tight.

He pulled me off of his cock by my hair, letting me take in a deep gulp of air every so often before he brought my mouth back down again.

Muffled whines vibrated against his cock, spurring him on until the salty tang of his cum shot down my throat.

I obediently swallowed, blinking back tears and clearing my now scratching throat as Drew's body momentarily sagged.

"Lay back." Drew ordered and I did as I was told, satisfied that I'd gotten his attention.

"What-" My eyes widened as Drew dragged his body underneath the bed and he grabbed our little toy stash, pulling out some silk ties that he fastened onto the discreet metal rings on the sides of our bed.

"Nooo...Daddy, I wanna-" My whines were immediately cut off as Drew firmly gripped my chin and his stormy blue eyes pinned me to bed just as effectively as the silk ties.

"You wanna what? You wanna touch?... You wanna cum?" He patronized as I nodded profusely.

"It seems like you've forgotten to do as your told. And you can't keep your hands to yourself. So no, you don't get to touch anything until I say so." Drew snapped.

Once he knew my hands were securely tied, he ran his hands along my torso.

Drew focused intently on the ways I responded.

He paid attention to every sharp intake of my breath, every arch of my back, every whimper and moan I tried to stifle, until his hands finally reached my damp panties.

Sure enough, Drew confirmed that my arousal had definitely seeped straight through my panties, and it only heightened due to the friction of his fingertips stroking my clit over the thin fabric.

"Yes, please..." I whimpered, my eyes shutting tight before Drew ordered me to open them again.

I begged and begged him to take my panties off and touch me properly.

I begged him to give his fingers, his mouth, his cock- anything to soothe the searing ache between my legs, but to no avail.

He didn't bother telling me to quiet down.

He knew my pleas would eventually stop and that I would eventually give in and understand who was in fact in charge.

No, instead, he found endless amusement in hearing my pitiful begging.

Amusement in the way my voice began to crack and give the more he toyed with my pussy over my panties.

My hips bucked into his face, and I let out an anguished keen that seemed to come from deep within my very soul as he situated himself between my legs just as I been between his not even 5 minutes earlier.

He flattened his tongue over my panties, giving my pussy a single lick from my clothed entrance right up to my clit.

I let out a lust-filled sob as he switched to from a flattened to flicking the tip of it over my clit, around it, and back again.

My thighs quivered, warning him that my orgasm was close, but that didn't stop him.

Drew's tongue flicked over my clit and lightly against my entrance until my whole body shook and I came for the first time with a loud and guttural shout.

"That was number one. Good job, darling." Drew praised and I preened at his words before my brain caught up to his words and I realized what his plans were.

A devilish smirk light up his features just as the realization of what was to come hit me.

But he didn't give me too much to sit on that realization.

My brain sputtered to a stop as Drew finally pulled my panties to the side, gave his cock a few firm tugs, bringing himself to full hardness once more and he slowly trailed the head along my slit.

Just as I let out a choked sob, I felt him shiver, letting me know that he was carefully restraining himself from giving himself what he wanted just to teach me a lesson.

Once again, I pitifully begged onto deaf ears.

"This is all you're gonna get until you learn your lesson, sweetheart." He grunted, continuing his lazy thrusts along my wet slit and watching my thighs tremble every time his cock grazed the most sensitive areas of my pussy.

Again, he brought me a body-shaking orgasm with my nothing more than friction and this time, he chuckled as my body shook and my juices erupted, coating his cock and the inside of my thighs like a fountain.

My legs felt numb, and my body felt tingly as my juices continued to flow the more Drew's cock slid up and down my pussy and once again, I heard him shudder.

I smirked in satisfaction despite the fact that my body and mind felt like they were floating, as I noticed a twitch in his hand as he gripped his cock firmly, clearly willing himself not to cum just yet.

Drew wiped that smirk off my face, thrusting deep into my wet and welcoming pussy.

My brain shut off and all I could do was lay there on the bed as he gripped my thighs, guiding me onto him relentlessly.

I could hear my loud moans mixing in with his, feeling those tingles along my body get more and intense.

Tears of overstimulation coated my cheeks and the sheets underneath me as Drew's expert fingers reached down to stroke my sensitive clit as he continued drive deep into me, giving me orgasm after orgasm.

Every orgasm was more powerful than the next, my juices flowing until they couldn't anymore.

It was like I could feel him all around me, consuming me, wrecking me and putting me back together again.

Sometimes it serves me well to not to what I'm told...

Next Chapter

#drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre x female reader #drew mcintyre smut #wwe smut #wwe fanfic #wwe oneshot #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wwe fan fiction

[ddymarie]

☀︎ Bakugo x reader

OPACAROPHILE

☀(n) A Person Who Loves The Sunsets

☀You had a rare weekend with katsuki and you both decided to spend it with a beach date

☀includes: kissing, rubbing, water, body worship, use of good girl, car sex (back shots) .

☀ a/n : I haven't uploaded in a while ik but I have so many fics in my drafts ready to made! Also some song suggestions are scattered throughout the fiction from my 'random' writing playlist! Speaking of music I haven't been able to get bad by wale outta my head

The sky was filled with orange reds and yellows. The setting sun adding a glow to your brown skin. Katsuki eyes looked as if they glowed from the way the sun had affected them, as he towered overed you, even sitting down.

"Katsu~ " he mocked holding your face in his hands "katsu~, let's go to the beach" he mimicked your voice.

Rolling your eyes lying back on the towel. Black bathing suit (design of your choice) highlighting your curves. Your pretty jewelry added a glow to you. You looked like a goddess.

Your Bluetooth playing partynextdoor. The smirk on your face was quickly wiped away when your boyfriend suddenly picked you up " katsuki! " you screamed giggling "ahh! " the loud splash you caused-caused katsuki to laugh.

" you son of-" swimming back to the surface looking around for your petty ass boyfriend-only to not find him anywhere in sight. Just then you were lifted up from underneath. Katsuki arose from the water with you on his shoulders "look not so bad right, pretty?" he teased looking up at you.

The water dripping off him had you hot and bothered. Fuck he looked like he tasted better then he smelled in this moment. And your favorite thing about him was his caramel scent. It drove you crazy when he sweated.

Retreating from your position on his shoulders. Standing in the water. It came just up to your neck. Paddling your hands on the water as you splashed him. Your small smile soon grew bigger once he began to splash you back " oh, pretty it's on! " he looked into your eye's with a glare hinted with a bit playfulness.

Hours passed before you both decided to call quits on the water fun.

The sky had shined bright even during the night. Stars causing nothing but your silhouettes to appear. Together you both looked like Greeks God's. Especially with your arms around his neck and his on your waist kissing away like you would loose each other to the deep, dark depths of the water. It was majestic.

The sound of your bracelets jingling as you allowed him to lift you up by your thighs. Escorting you outta of the water. Lips just now breaking apart. You both gasped catching breaths you hadn't realized you'd lost.

" you look beautiful in that bathing suit. Might have to buy you more " he said squeezing what he could of your plump ass before smacking it,french kissing you.

Lying you you both down on the singular orange towel. Orange and black the same color of his trunks. Your glasses that once sat on top of your head now falling on the the tip of your nose.

Removing them off your face and setting the black shades a side.

Bakugo began trailing his hands down your body. Lifting a leg of yours over his waist. Licking his lips as he dove in stealing another kiss from you

"Uh-uh" you said looking at the blonded lover in the eyes waving a finger in his face 'no' was what it symbolized " wait til we get home, play boy" you said pushing the muscular man from a top of you

Getting up, taking the blue tooth with you to the car. Katsuki sat there for a moment mesmerized by your jiggling ass before abruptly getting up snatching the towel and your shades up with him trailing behind you...

Laughing as you jumped into your shared foreign car. Katsuki pulling outta the now empty parking lot.

Driving on the empty road one hand on the steering wheel the other on your thigh. It was a small simple gesture of his until it started to trail up your thigh. The car slowed down... Pulling into yet another empty parking lot...it was 10:30 pm

Unbuckling his seat belt while leaning over the the arm rest grabbing your face and kissing you causing you to drop what ever treat you had in your hand. You two had been on the breezy road for about 27 minutes. The large shirt that pulled over your bathing suit. Was now being lifted. The shirt was off within seconds along with your top... And panties.

In this foreign car let it go

You went from kissing in the front seat to receiving back shots in the back of your truck.

" mm~ " you whimpered this man was knocking the air outta your lungs. Leaving you breathless "fuck" he growled throwing his head back. Hands gripping tightly on your waist which was sure to bruise later. Your hips collided. You throwing your ass back meeting his hard forward thrust. " ah-ah ahh~" you moaned as he pulled your hair, Leg up on the seat spanking your ass leaving a visible hand print on your brown skined ass. " fuck, pretty, just like that " he said removing his hand off your ass and onto your neck.

You cried out begging.. Pleading " please~" what were you begging for? Shit you ain't even know. His thrust slowed as he tilted your head down putting you in a face down ass up position and he lurched forward " love this body, baby" he worshipped hands roaming with no destination in sight. The feel of your skin. Your curves. Had this man on his knees everytime he seen em. Whether at home or on the feild. As his thrusts slowed they got deeper. He drew his hips back further it was torture to you. But it felt "soo good~". The pleasure he was giving to you made you arch your back more. You stopped throwing your hips back letting him do his thing. And from there it was nothing but praise~

"Mm~" you whined at his words " ass so soft. " he said gripping your soft ass spreading your cheeks. Slipping a thumb in your butt "ahhh, katsu~" "yea thats right say my name, good girl~"

Take the time to find you out

You love when a young n! go down on it

"Say it baby" he groaned.

" in this foreign car, let it go" he whispered in your ear.

That was all you needed to hear before you let go. " I'M COMING,KATSUKI!" you moaned his name Cumming all over the seats. You both sat there in silence for a couple of moments.

"Guess someone couldn't wait til we got home" you said looking back with a smirk before passing out.

You woke up to the car pulling into your shared pent house parking lot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

#bakugo smut #bakugo x black reader #bnha x you #bakugou katsuki #mha smut #bakugou x reader #katsuki smut #bakugou smut #bakugo x reader #mha x black female reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou headcanons #Spotify

[morallyinept]

A list of all my favourite JOEL MILLER Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 11

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Gun Cleaning - @avastrasposts

Vertigo Series - @jenna-ortega

Joel Masterlist - @holacia3 So much Joel to choose from!

Be Good, Be Quiet - @undercoverpena

Sticking It To The PTA - @walkintotheriveranddisappear Dad!Joel SingleMother!Reader

Three's Company Part 1 & Part 2 - @wardenparker Cowritten with @absurdthirst Featuring Frankie Morales

What Happens After - @hellishjoel

Up In Your Arms Series - @cherubispunk 1940sGangster!Joel

Never Pegged You For A Quitter - @seventeenpins QZ!Joel

Wanna Be Felled By You, Held By You - @seventeenpins Non Binary!Reader

Fire Walk - @motherofagony No Outbreak!Joel

The Stranger - @nala2811

Candy Girl - @kiwisbell

I Know It's For The Better Series - @planet-marz1

Can't Help Myself - @fettuccin-e

Medicine - @goodwithcheese GN!Reader

A Knight In Dusty Clothes & A Tally Of Good Deeds - @linzels-blog

Just A Fantasy - @romanarose GN!Reader

Told You I'd Be Back - @palioom

Daddy Next Door Series - @cavillscurls DaddyDom!Joel

Pretty When I Cry - @awesumsaus

Nobody Does It Like You Do - @mandoisapunk

Lonesome & Mad - @hyzer34

Best Idea You've Ever Had - @amyispxnk

Sated - @softlyspector Female Vampre!Reader

Seeking What Is Desirable Series - @chloeangelic

Better Luck Next Time - @chaotic-mystery DBF!Joel

Hard Light Series - @joelmillers-whore Professor!Joel

When My Time Comes Around Series - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Hoe-l Miller - @noxturnalpascal Drunk!Horny!Feral!Slut!Joel

Ride, Cowgirl - @cowboymarcs

Window Shopping 'Til They're Closing - @chloeangelic

Smother Series - @beardedjoel Dark!Joel

What You Need - @alwaysmicado FWB!Joel

Hoofbeats - @psychedelic-ink Featuring Agent Whiskey

Ghost (Mimi's Version) - @mrsmando

Swim Lessons - @pedge-page

Meet The Millers Series - @musings-of-a-rose Featuring Will & Benny Miller from Triple Frontier

Delicate Series - @hellishjoel & @thetriumphantpanda

She's Got A Boyfriend Anyway - @youcancallmeelle

Helping Hand - @dilfity Sub!Joel

You Know You Never Stood A Chance Series - @corazondebeskar-reads QZ!Joel

Second Chance - @kteague

Grays - @softlyspector

Sticky - @ezrasbirdie No Outbreak!Joel

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x male reader #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fic #fic recs #jett's fic recs

[thefairylights]

iwtv fic recs?

Hello! Apologies for the wait. I have a rec list right here for you and for anyone else who wants to read high quality incredible fanfiction written by talented authors. I have read all of these fics over five times. Even the wips. 💕

Practical Ethics by @prouvaireafterdark

Bitter is the Sorrow by @lesfleursrouges

Laden as the sea by @nalyra-dreaming

Like time stands still by @lesfleursrouges

Music when the sun goes down by @mythicaltzu

Drunk on you by @dreamofme9

Bury me deep inside your heart by @prouvaireafterdark

Thrill by @lesfleursrouges

And what I thought was gone by @nalyra-dreaming

Love is patient, love is kind by @lesfleursrouges

The devil you know by @aryastark-valarmorghulis

A tailored experience by myself and @lestatthelittlelion

Anatomy of a love seen by @amc-iwtv

The most unkindest cut of all by @lesfleursrouges

The right regrets by @dreamofme9

If I cannot bend the will of heaven, I shall move hell by @aryastark-valarmorghulis

Restraint by @lesfleursrouges

Love hath a bitter taste by @prouvaireafterdark

Silk hiding skin by @nalyra-dreaming

God complex (crazy in love) by @amc-iwtv

A love like This by @lesfleursrouges

It’s a sin by @amc-iwtv

Once again I love and I do not love by @aryastark-valarmorghulis

For a kiss so fatal and so warm by @prouvaireafterdark

Carnal by glittercake

An empty hell by @lesfleursrouges

Familiar taste of poison by @amc-iwtv

Painting love with crimson flow by @prouvaireafterdark

The plans we made by @showmey0urfangs

The Splendour of Us by @lesfleursrouges

The Saint by @revolution-starter

To keep you satisfied (hold you) by @amc-iwtv

The taste of your lips by @nalyra-dreaming

Ancient wounds so deep and so dear by @prouvaireafterdark

One night of many by @lesfleursrouges

Not discuss it (fighting & fucking) by @amc-iwtv

Walking Mojo by @darkangel1791

Sore must be the storm by @louisredsuit

Days of beauty by @lesfleursrouges

Shame by @amc-iwtv

A simmering pot of resentments by @louisredsuit

Valentine Medley by @amc-iwtv

Til forever falls apart by @lesfleursrouges

The measure of a man by @louisredsuit

As the day turns to night by accideadly

The end of all things by @lesfleursrouges

Filthy/Gorgeous by Craftnarok

I’m a fool to want you by @amc-iwtv

Delicate by @lesfleursrouges

In feverish need by @fablesdelightme

The Fall by @lesfleursrouges

#Loustat #Loustat fic #Loustat fic rec #interview with the vampire #iwtv 2022 #the vampire chronicles #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt