#that would occasionally fool around together

[childotkw]

I've been thinking of this for a few days and didn't have anywhere to put it, so here it goes.

Viserys has ordered for a feast, perhaps his last he will ever get to witness, and he has made the mistake to give the organizing responsibility to Alicent. Alicent worships the Seven however, so she is very much against partying. So is Otto, and the other Greens. Save perhaps Aegon.

Rhaenyra hears this, for Daemon still has friends in the court in King's Landing, and she sends two of her children to help these miserably serious people out. They desperately need the help, it seems.

These two children of Rhaenyra are Lucerys and Rhaena, they are to inherit Driftmark together one day, and they have been in the bestest of celebrations, for House Velaryon loves to show everyone just how rich they are.

Lucerys and Rhaena comes to King's Landing to help for this supposed feast, only to find that Mother had been right. King's Landing is silent. There are no children running around, no celebrations being held in Flea Bottom, no tournaments, no nothing. Red Keep is stripped from its cultural Targaryen patestries and arts, instead Seven Pointed Star is everywhere they look. This simply cannot do. They quickly understand that they have to interviene, or else this isn't going to be anything fun like the ones Rhaenyra and Daemon throw back in Dragonstone, or the ones Rhaenys and Corlys throw in Driftmark. These people just dont know how to party. So they take it upon themselves to organize this feast, and the Greens are furious.

Lucerys notices Otto and Alicent first, the looks they give especially to him. He supposes Alicent is justified though, for he was the one who had taken her son's eye all those years ago, but Otto looks at him like he is some feral animal that needs to be put down. Then he notices that he has missed Helaena, his aunt and the least irritating of the Greens. Helaena tries multiple times to involve her creepy crawlies in this feast, Lucerys and Rhaena do not let her however. Then comes Aegon, who is more than happy to have them take over and put an end to the castle's suffering. Aegon claims the keep's walls cry at night, he hears them, he tells Lucerys. He tells him that he is grateful they are stepping up to bring Red Keep back to its full glory again.

Then there is Aemond. The looks he gives Lucerys dont go un-noticed. Lucerys has changed, yes. He is not the small boy he was anymore, he is still quite young, but not a literal kid. This change must've been peculiar to Aemond, for he comments on his choice of clothes and jewelry, he tells him that he looks like a maid more than a man. This does upset him, Lucerys cannot lie. He prefers to look good is all, he isn't some maid. He is very much a boy. Rhaena shoo's Aemond away whenever she can, but his uncle finds ways to cross paths with him. Lucerys is tired, he is tired from the constant organizing of this big feast, so he decides he'll ignore Aemond.

Days pass and the keep is more lively than its been for years, Viserys is content and praises Lucerys' and Rhaena's work. The servants are happier and the knights aren't as miserable. Rhaena sends Lucerys down to Flea Bottom, she tells him to do his magic there too. In the mornings when there is still light he helps the people with their errands. And when the sun sets and night life begins he visits pleasure houses and bars and all the other places. He provides the owners of these places with coin and advices. When the smallfolk starts calling him the new Realm's Delight, and the new Prince of the City he cannot help but smile.

With these new titles given to him, Lucerys notices Aemond even angrier than before, and he cannot take it anymore. He goes to him, one night. They are in the God's Wood. He sits down beside him and they talk, they talk for hours. Lucerys admits the remorse he feels towards Aemond, not because he stopped him from possibly killing Jace that faithful night, but because his actions has caused him so much loss. An eye, for godssake. Aemond admits his ignorant behavior and his insulting words too. He admits to find Lucerys' care for his looks endearing too. They look at each other, all these years, they have been away from each other, and for something that they solved in one night, with one talk. What they do after is only for them and for the gods to know.

When Viserys speaks to Lucerys and Rhaena of his wishes for a tournament they get to work quickly. With this, they struggle. They are all about the aesthetic and the food and the scent and the everything. What they don't know are the safety measurments of tournaments. Lucerys goes to Aemond, and Aemond agrees to help them. So now the three of them are running from places to places, always occupied with some Lord or servant or maester asking for their opinions on the seat arreangments or the colors of the carpets and the curtains or the songs that will be needed to play.

It is exhausting, they do admit. But it is so worth the effort when it is finally done, for there are so many guests. So many high lords and ladies of Westeros are present, there are even Martells, people from Essos, the Summer Islands. It is a sight to see.

Rhaenyra and her bunch come next and Lucerys sees in her eyes that she is proud. It is even better when Aemond asks him for a dance, in the same feast he has been so busy with organizing.

And when Aemond asks for Lucerys' favor in the tournament, and wins the whole damn thing, Lucerys feels as though he could spend all his days with him.

Oh god I love this so much. Mainly the fact that it all starts because Rhaenyra goes "oh those poor repressed fools have no idea how to have a party" (sympathetic). And then Lucerys and Rhaena both get there and immediately are like "oh gods these poor repressed fools have no idea how to have a party" (derogatory).

Perfection.

When Lucerys is first told he and Rhaena will be going to King's Landing to assist with feast preparations, he's both excited and nauseous. Excited, because a small sliver of him will always consider the Red Keep home, and nauseous because...well...it's obvious why.

But arriving there and seeing what's been done to the place - no red and black, no Valyrian art, no heritage carefully, meticulously chiselled into the walls, no three-headed dragon - it's distressing.

Rhaena takes one look at Lucerys (her brother, best friend, confidant and maybe, hopefully, future husband), sees his little frown and sad eyes, and decides then and there that they would bring the glory of their family back to this bland and disappointing keep.

Luke's always been her favourite, after all, and it's not like anyone can judge her because he's everyone's favourite - so silently declaring war on the Queen's idea of what makes a good feast is par for the course.

It's Rhaena who slips into the King's chambers one afternoon, not even blinking when it takes him a long minute to remember who she is. It's Rhaena who, with the smile and eyes of her father, convinces Viserys to pass control of the feast over to her and Lucerys. It's Rhaena who stands, arms linked with her favourite person, before the Queen and the Hand and her Hightower cousins and members of the Small Council, as the King makes the change known publicly.

Lucerys' smile makes the oncoming headache worth it, in her eyes.

Initially, the adults in the room grumble and nod and stiffly smile, thinking they still have control, but Lucerys and Rhaena quickly debase them of the notion.

(Why people always assume she and Lucerys are the nicer of their siblings, Rhaena will never understand. Daemon had chortled when he saw them off, ruffling Luke's hair and kissing Rhaena on the forehead, and actually ordered them to behave.

Daemon Targaryen, asking for restraint from someone else.

If anyone else saw that they would think themselves going mad.)

But regardless, Lucerys and Rhaena are now in charge. A boy of fourteen and a girl of fifteen, coordinating an entire keep of people. It would be ridiculous if they weren't, somehow, good at it. They're a team, making decisions with an easy confidence, and there's a begrudging sort of respect that crops up in some members of the Small Council.

Because bastard or not, girl or not, Lucerys and Rhaena have been educated in a variety of subjects, and they put that knowledge to good use.

And they might be outnumbered by Greens but they stand back-to-back and protect each other, and nothing is stronger in the world than two Targaryens in agreement.

They steamroll over detractors, aware of the eyes on them, and slowly the wider social circles begin to whisper of how delightful the Princess' children are.

That Princess Rhaena is warm and kind and engaging. That she remembers the names of servants she has met once and goes out of her way to thank them for even the smallest tasks. That when her smile goes impish she is the image of her father, a man still remembered fondly by many of the small folk despite his absence.

That Prince Lucerys is gentle and sweet and compassionate. That he walks through the halls with a dancer's grace and dazzles the ladies of the court with shy grins and compliments. That he is the Realm's Delight come again, and the very image of Jocelyn Baratheon.

(Rhaena, again, is the one to slip that into conversations, and she watches with deep-seated satisfaction as people start to think Baratheon when they see Luke's dark hair, rather than Strong.)

Her decision to send him into King’s Landing is just another step in her master plan; and the compliments keep rolling in. Rhaena knows just how effective Lucerys’ charm is, and she revels in inflicting it on others.

Alicent is frustrated at how quickly things are spiralling out of their control; but Otto is seething. He thinks Lucerys and Rhaena are the worst of both their parents, but no matter what he says, Viserys is adamant the children are to remain in charge.

As for Aegon, Helaena and Aemond...

Aegon is, in a word, relieved. He wants to feel guilty for thinking it, but the fact remains that whenever Lucerys is around, attention is off him. His mother tracks his nephew's movements with half-wistfulness, half-fear. His grandsire is too deep in his scheming to pay attention to Aegon. He's free of the stifling weight of their expectations, if only for a moment, because Lucerys is there to take the heat.

Helaena is content in her own world, but surfaces occasionally to watch in quiet joy as her nephew and cousin work. The Dance isn't stopped, not yet, not so easily, but they are a step closer and Helaena whispers thankful prayers to the gods for giving them this chance.

And Aemond - well. Aemond. Lucerys does his best to avoid his uncle, shamefully using Rhaena as a shield whenever he approaches, to her endless amusement. He doesn’t ask what the two of them speak about the few times he has seen them together, he only knows that Rhaena always makes sure to touch him, to hold his hand, to press a kiss to his cheek (damningly close to the corner of his mouth) whenever Aemond is nearby. Rhaena abuses the closeness they share, delighting in how her cousin flares up in jealousy mistaken as anger.

But she also knows Lucerys better than most, and so she sits back and watches the slow, slow, slow progression Aemond and Lucerys make towards each other.

Lucerys will very likely be her husband one day, but Rhaena isn’t so insecure as to worry that he might drift towards his uncle as well.

(And if in some nebulous future, they’re amicable to it, she sees no reason why she can’t have two handsome, intense men in her bed.)

#anonymous #HOTD #lucerys velaryon #rhaena targaryen #aemond targaryen #lucemond #lucerys x rhaena #god #i love this so much #rhaena is the MVP #and a genius #and daemon is definitely proud of her cunning little mind #far far in the future #aemond is *upset* when luke and rhaena marry #only to be invited to their bed within the week #luke and rhaena are platonic soulmates in my eyes #that would occasionally fool around together #and rhaena is definitely the one to proposition aemond purely so she can see his reaction firsthand

[theostrophywife]

agora hills.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: agora hills by doja cat.

author's note: as always, this unhinged fic idea started in chlo and i's endless chats about these pesky men. enzo has a special place in my heart because he's so golden retriever sunshine (don't be fooled by that face though he's filthy).

Enzo Berkshire was your best friend. 

Despite what your friends seemed to think, the relationship between you two had always been strictly platonic. Perhaps it was easy to misinterpret your actions as romantic. After all, you and Enzo were very touchy and affectionate people. It was typical of you two to hold hands in the halls, cuddle in the common room, and even share the occasional cheek or forehead kiss, which you deemed completely normal. This type of behavior has been the standard since you were eleven years old. 

Still, you weren’t blind. You knew your best friend was attractive. Enzo had always been handsome in your eyes, but then fourth year rolled around and everyone else started to notice it too. To be fair, he had grown at least a foot over the summer and quidditch definitely helped him pack on lean muscle. Needless to say, girls flocked to him like a swarm of bees to honey, but he never really seemed interested in any of them. Not that you were paying attention. It was a natural thing to notice when you spent every waking moment with someone. 

The point of the matter was that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for Enzo whatsoever. Or so you thought. Until the bloody dream that flipped your friendship on its head. 

It was a normal day. You and Enzo were studying in your dorm like you usually did after class. Enzo was sprawled out on the rug scribbling away for his assignment on Ancient Runes. You were on your bed reading up on History of Magic. You knew you should be focusing since there would be a test tomorrow, but the chapter was boring and you were absolutely knackered from attending classes all day. 

Before you knew it, you were fully knocked out. A part of you was aware that you were dreaming, but the surreality of it blurred the lines of reality. 

In your dreams, you were still in your room studying with Enzo. Except your best friend was no longer hunched over his homework on your rug. Now Enzo was standing at the edge of your bed, blocking out the afternoon sun. You stared up in confusion as he took the book from your hands. 

“Enz? What are you doing?” 

Enzo stared intently at you, his soft hazel eyes flickering down to your lips. It was a little like being hit with a beam of sunshine. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“I want to try something.”

You held your breath as Enzo leaned over. The bed dipped from his weight as you sat frozen in place. He rubbed soothing circles along your wrist, causing you to melt into his touch. It was a familiar sensation, one that always calmed you down but right at that moment, you felt anything but. The beat of your heart echoed so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. 

Enzo leaned in close, his face mere inches away from yours. He stroked your cheek gently. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, the low whisper of his voice conjuring goosebumps along your arms. “Can I?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly. He was so close that you could smell the woodsy smell of his cologne, combined with a hint of fresh laundry and citrus. 

“Yes,” you responded breathily. 

Before you could think better of it, Enzo was kissing you. It was soft and sweet, his kisses gentle while he tested the waters. The quick little pecks soon evolved into deeper kisses as your body responded to his touch. Your hands moved outside of your own volition, fingers tangling in Enzo’s hair as you pulled him closer. He groaned and tilted your head back for a better angle, your bodies pressed close together and radiating heat underneath your clothes. 

Enzo scooted back on the headboard and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss. You gasped when his hands roamed underneath your skirt, gripping your thighs so that you were fully settled over his length. What started as a sweet innocent kiss escalated into a full on heated makeout session. Kissing till your lips were swollen. Moaning into each other’s mouths. Grasping at every inch of skin the two of you could reach. 

When you felt him grind his hardness against your backside, you gasped. Enzo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, swirling and sucking until you were panting above him. 

“Y/N,” he grunted huskily. “I need you.”

The desperation in Enzo’s voice made you shudder. You didn’t even think twice before unbuckling his belt and tugging his boxers down. Enzo groaned as he stroked himself, pulling your panties to the side. You whimpered as he teased his tip at your entrance. 

“I want you so fucking bad.”

“I want you too, Enzo.”

Friendship be damned, Enzo gripped your hips and watched as you sank into him. His eyes rolled back when he felt your warmth and wetness hug around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Gods, you feel so fucking good. Better than I imagined.”

You clenched at his words and he inhaled sharply before rolling your hips to set the pace. Once you established a steady rhythm, Enzo pinned you with his lust blown gaze and watched as you rode him. He lavished you with sloppy kisses, stopping every now and then to moan into your mouth while you continued rolling your hips against him. 

“That’s it, princess. Feels good, yeah? Keep rolling your hips just like that,” Enzo said, thrusting upwards to fuck into you. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Just as Enzo hit that perfect spot, your eyes flew open. 

You were startled to find yourself back in your dorm, warm, sweaty, and alone in bed. You nearly fell off altogether when you found Enzo still sitting on the rug below you. While you were dreaming about doing filthy things with him, Enzo was completely oblivious and focused on studying. Like you should’ve been. 

Enzo perked up, concern written all over his face when he saw how flushed you were. He immediately rushed over to your side. Your cheeks were so red that he thinks you might be running a fever. Enzo pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning. 

“You’re burning up, Y/N.” Enzo sounded genuinely worried. If only he knew the reason why you currently shared the same temperature as the common room fireplace. “Maybe I should walk you over to the infirmary?” 

“No!” Your voice echoed shrilly in your dorm, causing you to wince. “I’m fine. I just…I just need fresh air.”

“Oh good, I’ll come walk with you.”

“No,” you said rather harshly. Enzo frowned. “I, uh, I think I should go alone.”

Now Enzo was truly perturbed. He pouted at your refusal. Why didn’t you want him to come? You always walked around the Black Lake together. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” 

He squinted at you, hoping to catch your gaze. You completely avoided looking him in the eyes before scrambling out of bed. 

“I’m fine, really. I’ll see you later, Enz.”

You were out the door before Enzo even had a chance to respond. 

You were acting like a bloody idiot. 

After that unfortunate afternoon, you spent the next few days avoiding Enzo. The dream had completely flustered you. It was impossible to be in the same room as your best friend. You couldn’t even look Enzo in the eyes without thinking of him being inside of you.  

More than that, it was making you rethink your entire friendship. You adored Enzo. He had been a constant in your life since first year. The two of you were inseparable and he was pretty much the most important person in your life. You had never once thought about him in a sexual manner, but obviously you were attracted to him given the filthy thoughts that flooded your mind like a plague. 

You were praying to Merlin that this stupid little lapse of yours would pass and take all the hormone addled aftereffects with it. Perhaps it was just lack of physical affection that was causing you to think this way. After all, you had broken up with your last boyfriend months ago. There was the casual hookup every now and then, but those never really satisfied you in the way that you wanted. It certainly wasn’t anything like how Enzo had been in your dream. 

As you cataloged and compared your most recent stints, the intrusive thought slipped in without warning. There were no secrets between you and Enzo, so you knew that it had been awhile since he hooked up with anyone else too. Come to think of it, except for a couple flings here and there, Enzo has never really had a serious relationship. 

You never really thought much about it. It wasn’t like you were running headfirst into commitment either, but now you couldn’t help but wonder why Enzo had never had a girlfriend. Were relationships just not his cup of tea? If so, why the bloody hell not?

By the time you had unraveled that string, Pansy was snapping her fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and rejoined the present. Before your little spiral, you and Pansy had been discussing the homework for Charms. 

Your friend narrowed her eyes on you. “Alright, spill,” Pansy said. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”

You peered around the common room. For the most part, it was empty. Only a few of the other Slytherins lingered in your midst, but one could never be too careful in the viper’s nest. 

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you leaned closer to Pansy and spoke in a low voice. “Have you ever had a dream about one of the guys?”

Pansy leaned back on the velvet emerald couch with an expression of intrigue. “What kind of dream?”

“You know,” you urged, picking at the cushion in your lap. “The sexual kind.”

She shook her head, her glossy bob shimmering in the faint light. “No, I can’t say that I have.” 

“I have!” Theo said cheerfully as he plopped down between you. His presence startled you, but he looked utterly unperturbed as he butted into the conversation. “About both of you, actually.”

You wrinkled your nose and smacked him on the arm. “Gross, Theo.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Pansy said with a look of disgust.

Theo was deeply offended by it all. “What? I’ll have you know that I was very loving and gentle,” you groaned and made a gagging sound. “I also had one about Reg and that one wasn’t as gentle, if you know what I mean.”

He grinned cheekily, which only made you lament further. Pansy shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Regulus? He’s the human equivalent of a grumpy black cat. All the first years are terrified of him.”

Theo shrugged. “What can I say? I’m into that. All that surliness and those curls, y’know…”

It was Pansy’s turn to smack him. “For Salazar’s fucking sake, shut it, Theodore. I want to know who Y/N had a dream about.”

“Was it Riddle?” Theo prompted.

“Which one?”

“Mattheo, obviously. Tom looks like he hasn’t had a woman’s touch in years.”

“That’s mean!” you cut in. “I’m telling Tom you said that.”

“Please don’t. I value my life, thank you very much.”

Pansy scoffed. “It’s not either one of the Riddles then.”

“Was it me?” asked Theo. 

“Gods, no.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “It can’t be Blaise because him and Pans are shagging on the daily.” Theo’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it’s Malfoy.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“But he’s close, right?” Pansy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You nodded weakly. She gasped. “Oh my god, Berkshire? Really?”

You buried your face in your hands. You were truly going to die of embarrassment. Pansy continued with her assessment. “Well, you two are practically attached at the hip, so it makes sense. Still, I truly didn’t expect it to be Enzo. He’s so sweet, I just can’t see him that way.”

The shit-eating grin on Theo’s face made you cringe. “Was it good? It had to be, right? Is that why you’ve been avoiding him all week?” 

“What? I haven’t been avoiding him.”

“Sure you have,” declared Theo. “Berkshire’s all broken up about it. Thinks he’s done something to upset you. The whole time you’ve been nursing filthy little fantasies about sweet baby boy Enzo. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the guys about this.”

Panic seized you and Theo yelped as you held his arm in a death grip. “You can’t say a fucking word, Theo. Do you hear me? It’s already humiliating enough to have a sex dream about my best friend. I will literally murder you if you tell any of the boys.”

Theo sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell. Now let go of me, woman.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Pansy. “You can’t keep avoiding Enzo forever.”

You sighed. You were completely and utterly at a loss. Pansy was right. Enzo was already starting to suspect something and you felt bad that he thought he’d done something to upset you when you were the one in the wrong. How could you possibly act normal after all of this?

“Maybe you should ask him if he’s ever thought about you that way,” Theo suggested. “That way the ball’s in his court.” 

You scoffed. “I’m supposed to just come up to him and casually ask, Hey Enz, have you ever had a sex dream about me that was so filthy that you couldn’t make eye contact for days after?” 

“I guarantee you the answer will be yes.”

As you chided Theo for being his usual ridiculous self, Pansy discretely nudged you. Enzo rounded the corner and waved at the three of you. Theo and Pansy shared a look before leaving you to your own devices. Bloody traitors. 

Enzo was unbothered by their sudden departure. “Hi, love. I haven’t seen you all week. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” 

His tone was light and playful, but it still made you nervous as all hell. “No, not at all,” you internally cringed at the forced cheeriness in your voice. “I’ve just been…busy. Yeah, that’s it. No other reason.”

For Salazar’s fucking sake. You were horrible at this. Lying to Enzo wasn’t something you were used to. 

Enzo nodded. “Okay, well we’re still on for movie night, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, about that—“

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he added thoughtfully, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Unless you’re actually avoiding me.”

Fuck. Your mind was screaming at you to say no. To make up some lame excuse. To do something other than gape at Enzo. 

Unfortunately, your brain decided to stop working as soon as those dimples of his made an appearance. Merlin’s bloody beard, you truly needed to get a grip. 

You forced yourself to smile back so he wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “”I was just going to ask what snacks you wanted.”

“Just you,” Enzo said, his grin growing wider. Did his voice suddenly sound deeper than it had a few seconds ago? No, it was likely just your delusion. “That’s all I need.”

Later that night, Enzo arrived with the projector and a handful of movie choices. You spent the entire afternoon pacing and working yourself into a fit. He was entirely unaware of the cloud of anxiety hanging over you as he loaded up your favorite movie. 

Your dorm had never felt as cramped as it did at this moment. Enzo plopped down on your bed. The scene of the crime. You climbed in on the other end and resigned yourself to sitting perfectly upright and rigid while he made himself comfortable. Enzo looked at you strangely. Usually, the two of you would be cuddling. 

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Enzo asked, spreading his arms out. “Come cuddle.”

You sighed internally. This felt like tempting fate, but what could you do? If you refused, Enzo would definitely know that something was up. As slow as a snail, you scooted closer to his side. He took one look at you and shook his head before hauling you over to him. Besides being manhandled, the position was quite familiar. You tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder while he nuzzled his cheek against your hair. 

Enzo pressed play and you started to relax while the movie unfolded. The peace didn’t last for long. As the opening scene played, Enzo absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt. Again, his affectionate nature wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet you couldn’t help but hold your breath as he rubbed soothing circles against your hip. While the gesture usually comforted you, it had the opposite effect now. 

“You’re so tense, love,” Enzo murmured. His voice sounded so deep and delicious.

“It’s been a stressful week.”

“I bet.” 

You shuddered as he trailed his fingers over your spine, drawing patterns along your skin. Temptation wasn’t knocking at your door. It was kicking it down altogether. Enzo shifted, brushing his knuckles just below the hook of your bra. 

“This can’t be comfortable,” he said, hooking a finger around the band. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed with it off. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” 

There was no time to analyze what the fuck was going on. All of your efforts were spent solely on fighting the urge to moan. Enzo toyed with the band, waiting for your answer. 

“Yeah,” you said breathily. “I think—I think you’re right.”

“Course I am. Let me take it off for you then, yeah?” 

“Okay.” 

Enzo unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers. Almost like he had long mastered the art and this was merely just child’s play. He helped you shrug out of your bra and carelessly tossed it to the side. You sighed softly as Enzo switched to long, purposeful strokes. He started at your hips, then your stomach, gradually moving up until he was barely an inch away from the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered close, completely lost to his touch. They opened again when Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Hi,” he said with a smile. 

“Hi,” you whispered. “What are we doing, Enzo?” 

“Nothing that I haven’t thought about a million times over.”

“You’ve thought about me like this?” 

“I’m always thinking about you,” Enzo admitted. “Sometimes it’s just cuddling or holding hands. Just sweet stuff cause I love touching you like this, but other times…other times I dream about you like you dreamt about me.”

Your breath hitched. “You know about my dream?” 

“I heard you in the common room earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s why I haven’t talked to you much this week. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Enzo took your hand and slid it down the front of his gray sweatpants. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your palm. “Do I feel uncomfortable to you, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t trust yourself with words at the moment. Enzo nuzzled against you, littering soft little kisses in his wake. He pecked and nipped at your neck, your collarbone, your jaw. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know that? I want you so badly I’d literally get on my knees and beg if you asked.”

The tension was too much for you to bear. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt and pressed your lips against his. Enzo groaned into your mouth. The hand underneath your shirt crawled up until he was cupping your tits, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. Enzo tried to keep the kisses soft. He intended to savor it, but every ounce of self control went out the window the second he heard you moan. 

Enzo flipped you over so that you were straddling his lap. He looked down and realized that you were wearing one of his old shirts and the sight of it made him even harder. The tiny shorts you were wearing was a pesky little barrier, but it didn’t stop him from grinding his hardness against your ass. He tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off, right now. I need to feel you, pretty girl.”

He watched as you peeled off the shirt. Enzo did the same, tossing both articles of clothing over the side of your bed. He groaned at the skin to skin contact. Enzo smiled as he drank it all in. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You’re not bad to look at either, Enz.”

Enzo chuckled. “Cheeky girl. Come on, then. Shorts off too.”

You took off your shorts as Enzo slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers. He kissed you again, sloppy, filthy, and downright obscene. There was plenty of panting and groping as the two of you explored each other’s bodies. Enzo practically purred into your ear as you rubbed over his shaft. He felt like velvet in your hands. When you flicked your thumb to spread the bead of precum over his tip, Enzo released an animalistic growl. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Gods, I need to be inside of you right fucking now or I’ll die.”

There was no time to slide off your panties. Enzo merely yanked it to the side and guided you over him. He kept his eyes on you as you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. Enzo groaned, digging his fingers into your hips while you adjusted to his size.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet and so fucking tight.” 

You had no idea that such filthy words could sound like music in your ears. Enzo may have been sweet as sugar, but you knew that he wasn’t innocent. He was far too cheeky to be anything but downright dirty in bed. 

Enzo was also extremely responsive. He made sure to praise and worship like your body was an altar and he was the most pious believer. 

“Enz, gods,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue over your nipple. “You’re really good at that.” 

“Yeah?” He asked cheekily. “You think so?” 

You chuckled. It was such an Enzo comment. If you weren’t actively losing your mind, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him. Whatever fantasy your mind has conjured paled in comparison to reality. Sex with Enzo was easy. You knew him and you trusted him. It was like breathing air. 

Every moan and whimper only helped you grow more and more attuned with each other’s bodies. The sounds you made were a special language of its own, one that only you and Enzo understood.

“That’s it, princess. You’re taking me so well.” 

“Like that?” you asked, rolling your hips. 

Enzo groaned in response, which made you smirk in satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed you deeply. “Ride me harder, sweetheart. Fuck…yeah just like that.” 

He moaned into your mouth, meeting the roll of your hips with thrusts of his own. Enzo pressed his forehead against your, his long lashes kissing the tops of your cheekbones while he pressed you closer. The deep angle in which he drove into you had you clawing at his back. 

“Oh gods, oh fuck. I can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”

“I’m so close.” Enzo flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the mattress. The tension uncoiled in your core until you were panting, chasing after that sweet release. “Oh—oh gods, Enzo.”

The orgasm knocked the very breath from your lungs. It was a total out of body experience. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you screamed his name, but none of it registered past the pleasure of coming. As soon as Enzo felt you creaming him from base to tip, he came too. 

It was strangely beautiful to watch. Enzo was mesmerizing. With his sweat slicked skin and swollen lips, strands of his dark hair clinging onto his flushed cheeks. You’ve never seen such a pretty sight. 

The two of you stayed curled up into each other. Enzo slowly pulled out and placed a tender kiss on your temple. This time, there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation as you cuddled up against his side. He was warm and comfortable, lulling you into sleep as he tangled his long legs with yours. 

You didn’t know how long you drifted off. It only felt like a few seconds later when you found yourself on your stomach, blinking sleepily up at Enzo. He smiled, kissing along your spine as he pried your legs apart. You groaned into the pillow as he thrusted lazily from behind. 

It was dark as night outside when you were finally done. You couldn’t even remember how many times he made you cum. All you knew was that you were in complete bliss as you and Enzo sprawled out on your sheets. 

You looked up at Enzo. He looked down at you. The two of you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.

“Shit. Did we just—“

He nodded, curling a strand of your hair through his fingers. “Yeah, we definitely did. Two. Three. Four times? I honestly lost count.” 

You chuckled softly. There was a moment of silence as you collected yourself. Enzo lowered himself down so that you were facing each other. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.” 

Despite your steamy activities, you had never felt more shy than when he brushed his lips across your knuckles. 

“I care about you, Enzo and I know you care about me too. Tonight was….fuck. Tonight was great. I just want to make sure this doesn’t change our friendship.”

“Of course it’s going to change things,” Enzo said matter-of-factly. “You think I can stay just friends with you after that?” 

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I know you don’t really date. I mean, half the school’s asked you out and you’ve turned them all down, so I’m not expecting to be the exception. It’s alright if you just want this to be casual.”

“I don’t. I’ve said no to everyone because I’ve been waiting for you. You are the exception, Y/N. It’s always been you.” 

“Really?” you whispered, biting back a smile. “You mean that?” 

Enzo nodded and kissed your fingertips. “Sweetheart, you’ve had me in the palm of your hands since we were eleven. Of course I mean it.” 

You didn’t try to hide your smile. You were absolutely beaming. “So you don’t want things to be casual?”

“There’s nothing casual about what I feel for you.” 

“Okay,” you said, processing his revelation. “I don’t want things to be casual either. It might be selfish, but I think I want you all to myself, Enzo.” 

He released a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking Merlin. I want you all to myself too, Y/N.”

#i hope you all see him for what he is now which is a sl*t #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire imagine

[studioghibelli]

burnt- a joel miller x reader

summary: life is sweet, but your big, tough, roughed up husband is sweeter. just for you…. only ever you. domestic life is full of happiness, bliss and….. kinky sex?

warnings: daddy kink (sorry not sorry), no outbreak!au, big fat girthy age gap (20s/late 40s), smut (finger sucking, thigh riding, light choking, f receiving oral, creampie, pinkus in vageenja sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink.) no use of y/n.

note: this hasn’t been proofread, so sorry for any grammar errors. xx

You couldn’t remember when it happened.

When the sleepless nights tangled up in his arms, where neither of you quite knew where the other would end or begin, bled into the quiet mornings spent tangled in the other’s arms. When breathy moans evolved into deep conversations about the afterlife and family values. You couldn’t remember when Joel went from the wild, rugged cowboy you rode for hours on end, to the supportive husband who protected you, made coffee for you, mowed the lawn and took care of you.

It happened quietly. Naturally. Perfectly.

No more were the nights of stumbling around drunk, fooling around behind your friends’ backs, leaving the labels far away and out of sight.

Oh, no. Not anymore.

The silver band engraved with flowers, a pretty, shimmering gemstone sitting on top, reminded you every day of that.

Now, Joel still had that wild streak in him, that dark tint to his eyes. He still let you know he could, and would, fuck you in to high Heaven, show you just how good of a girl you are. But the sweet, simple domesticity of dancing in the kitchen, grilling for friends, watching the news and shaking your head together- that was all new.

Autumn was dawning over the sticky heat of Texas, the air cooling off ever so slightly, days shortening toward cool, navy nights. Your front porch in the mornings, as the sun rose up, offered you solace away from the sappy humidity, that seemed to cling against your skin like tar.

So, each morning before the world would awake, you would sit on the rocking chair that your doting Joel made just for you, and you would drink your coffee, your tea, your chocolate milk- whatever you were in the mood for during that particular moment- and you would watch your front lawn come alive with bursting rays of light.

Occasionally, on a particularly quiet day, you would see a wild bunny hop through your yard, or a sweet black cat drag its side against the white picket fence of the house across the road.

You relished in these little interactions with nature. You craved them.

And when they were done, before the clock even had the chance to click past 8AM, you would climb back in to bed with your bear of a husband, wrap your arms around his back (which had inevitably turned away from your side through the night), and fall back into a peaceful snooze for the next hour or so, until the blaring alarm on Joel’s phone would begin ringing.

And then, he would awake.

Joel would turn to you, with a goofy, love sick grin on his face, and gently kiss your nose, pulling you flush against his warm, sleepy chest. His deep breaths would vibrate against you, his hands inevitably finding their way to the band of your panties or hem of your shirt, and you would spend the first half hour of your morning feeling his cock inside of you, or his fingers in your mouth, or his tongue against your clit.

Being married….. well now, that was a treat. One you would never get tired of devouring.

The clock had slowly been ticking towards 6 P.M.

Husband Joel would be walking in through those doors at any moment now, and you were still struggling through the recipe, the book propped up on the counter, the shiny pages now tarnished with the smears of paprika, melted butter- anything you had touched in the kitchen, really.

The house was alive with the smell of cooking chicken and boiling pasta. You had tried, and failed, to make garlic bread from scratch. You enjoyed cooking, but Joel never expected it, and what was what you loved.

He never treated you like his slave, or his subservient house wife. You were equals, partners. If whatever dinner you were cooking failed, he had no problem ordering chinese, or making you breakfast for dinner, fluffy pancakes and all.

The thought made your stomach grumble.

You figured today was a beautiful September day, and your husband was a wonderful husband, and he deserved some delicious fucking pasta when he walked through the front door.

When he walked through the front door…..

Sweaty from an honest days work, those curls slicked to his forehead, arms bulging beneath the tight sleeves of whatever old shirt he chose from his closet, worn and faded from the hand of the sun.

Oh, when he walked through that door….

Your knees were already growing weak.

You clutched the edge of the counter, nails gently digging in to the wood. You focused your eyes on the boiling pasta water, your mind wandering with thoughts of Joel. Always of Joel.

His hand had wrapped itself around your neck, belly pressed against the cool counter of the kitchen. The feeling of his fingers gently pressing in to your skin sent shock waves of pleasure rippling throughout, straight to your pussy. He hadn’t even touched you anywhere south of your tits.

Joel was kissing you like a starved man, his hot lips searing your skin, like a poker branding your skin with the mark of his love. His undying, unwavering, steadfast love.

“Joel,” you whimpered, “I need you. I need you to touch me.”

“Touch you where, babydoll? Here?” He asked, his fingers gently tweaking your left nipple. You shook your head no, stifling a moan. “Oh. Hmm. How about here?” He gently brushed his fingers against your belly, tickling your skin until a soft laugh erupted. You shook your head again. “I think I know where.”

Joel used his knee to spread open your legs, pressing you down flat into the counter, your cheeks now resting against the cold surface. His rough palms lay flat against your skin as he dragged them down to your ass, spreading them open as the searing heat of shyness spread through your chest.

“Let me see.” Joel pondered a faux thought, before a smirk overtook his face and he dipped his fingers into the soaked entrance of your cunt, knuckle deep as his body pressed against your back. You felt the outline of his hardening cock jutting through his tight boxers, a shiver running down your spine. “Here. Right?”

“Y-Yes!” You squealed, your nails digging into the wooden countertops. You felt it flaking beneath your grasp, and you knew an indent would be left. Oh well, you thought.

“That’s what I thought-”

Your deep, emphasis on the deep, thought was cut short by someone grabbing you quickly, showering your neck in familiar kisses.

“Joel!” You gasped, jumping as his hands made contact with you. You burst into a fit of laughter, his stubble tickling your jaw line as he spun you towards him.

And there he was. Just as you suspected.

His graying curls were soaked with sweat, framing the sides of his face ever so slightly, and a love sick, honey sweet grin reserved just for you was atop his perfect lips. The sun had almost set, and the amber light flooding in through the transparent curtains had shrouded his figure in a burst of light.

“Evenin’ my-” Joel paused, nose lifting into the air. “Somethin’s burnin-” The fire alarm cut him off, just in time.

“God dammit!” You turned around to see your chicken black as charcoal, smoke fanning from the pan. You were so lost in thought, you completely ignored the food. “Fuck!”

Joel had undone the fire alarm atop the ceiling quicker than you had fanned the smoke away, opening all the windows with a groan. You fell on the couch, dejected and annoyed, holding a crocheted pillow to your chest in a moment of well-deserved self pity. Joel turned to look at you, amusement behind his eyes.

“I was trying to make you a nice dinner!” You explained with a dramatic fling of your arms.

“Mhm… and what happened?” There was a sense of charming fun poking at his words.

“I was…. I was just, uh, I was thinking about some things.”

Joel was getting closer to you, his steps slow. “I’m sure. You are quite the thinker, sweet girl. What was it that was so important, you completely forgot about everything else?”

“Taxes!” You blurted out before you could even stop yourself.

He couldn’t help but laugh, sitting down beside you. His hand gently rubbed your stomach, down to your thighs, your body like jello beneath his touch. Joel’s face was close to yours now, his nose brushing against your cheek ever so slightly. “‘S that so?”

“Y-Uh…. mhm.”

“Now I trust you’d never lie to me.” His breath was hot on your face, and you shivered as his hands ran up and down your torso, paying extra attention to the hem of your sports bra.

“I wasn’t thinking about taxes.” You admitted, guilt evident on your face.

“There’s the truth. Now that’s daddy’s good girl. C’mere.” He patted his lap and you willingly obliged, straddling his thigh as Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pressing against the small of your exposed back. “Now,” he brushed a stray piece of hair away, “what was it you were thinkin’ about?”

“You.”

“Me? Well darlin’, I am flattered. What about me?” His voice was low, right against your ear.

You ignored his question, tilting your neck instinctively as his lips found their way to your skin. You whimpered quietly the first time he kissed you, right beneath your ear, squirming against his denim clad thigh, thick and tantalizing beneath you.

Joel found the waistband of your leggings, slipping his fingers down your panties, into the sticky hot mess that had made itself home in your underwear. His index finger traced your folds, your cunt aching beneath his touch.

Right now, the world was him, and he was you, and your movements were one. Nothing else was as important to you as Joel Miller making you orgasm, over and over and over.

“Oh.” Joel tutted, removing his hand, ignoring the protests that escaped you. “I know what you were thinking about.” There was a charmingly sardonic pull to each of his syllables.

“Do you?”

“Mhm. You were thinking about me fuckin’ that tight little pussy. Weren’t you?”

A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat. You felt that coil, sharp and deep within you, just waiting to be cut, waiting to be relieved.

Even after all this time, Joel still sent shivers down your spine. He still made your knees weak, still made your heart flutter.

You remember people telling you he was too old for you, that he was going to slow you down. That, one day, the honeymoon phase would wear off, that one day it would feel like you had settled for an old man who you’d have to end up taking care of- that was many moons ago…

They couldn’t have been more wrong.

You looked into the eyes of Joel, his orbs darkening as he caught sight of you. He removed his fingers from the waistband of your pants, slowly moving them up towards your mouth, lips thick and glossy with desire.

“Suck.” He commanded.

You obeyed, gently grabbing his wrist with both your hands, inching his ring and middle finger slowly into your mouth. You made a spectacle, put on a show just for him, as you began swirling your tongue around the tips of his digits, giggling quietly as he hummed out in satisfaction. With his free hand, Joel gently grabbed the side of your head, his fingers running through your hair.

“Good girl. That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

You grounded yourself against his thigh, humming softly as he moved his hands to your waist, his grip tight, secure, protective.

“That’s right, grind that little pussy on my thigh. Give me a show, girl.”

You smiled at him, that charming, dazzling smile that made Joel’s heart pound, and slowly took your shirt off, your red bra on full display in front of him. Joel grabbed your tits, kneading them in his rough palms, calloused fingers gently pinching and twisting your nipples, the friction making you moan out.

“Been thinkin’ bout these all day.” Joel murmured, leaning forward and burying his face in the valley between each of your breasts. He groaned into your soft skin, licking a thick, hot strip up your neck as you moved against him. Your clit, swelling and screaming beneath the fabric of your underwear, dragged circles against his jeans as his bare hands grasped the curves of your hips, helping you move and sway against him.

“Joel.” You whispered, begging.

“What, honey? Use your words.”

“Fuck me.”

“‘S that what my pretty girl wants?”

“More than anything.”

Joel pushed you beneath him on the couch, the leather cool and comforting against your bare back. He looked at you, devouring you with his eyes. He was drunk on you now, orbs blown black like charcoal, lips tightened in a carnivorous snarl.

He was hungry.

“God damn, girl. Never gonna get tired of this view.” He moaned out your name as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your belly before taking your pants off, his thumb dragging across the soaked strip imprinted into your panties. Joel leaned forward, following the line his thumb made with his tongue, his ears perking at the sound of your moans.

Joel thumbed the skimpy fabric down your legs, his palms rubbing against your smooth skin, before he propped your legs on his shoulders, face to face with your throbbing, soaked pussy.

His index traced over your fold, watching as it became coated with your wetness.

“All for me?” He hummed out, the pad of his digit now grazing over your clit. It thrummed against his skin, your pussy clenching wantonly against nothing. “Guess I should do somethin’ about this, shouldn’t I? Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to leave my lady hanging like this. All wet and ready for her daddy.”

You whimpered, lips pressed in a tight line, as you watched your husbands every move.

Joel leaned forward, his tongue flat against your clit, looking up into your eyes. He left his tongue there, no hint or movement, as the corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk.

“Please.” Your voice was pathetic, a quiet, distant plea.

“Ohh.” He chuckled between his syllables. “You want me to lick you? Want me to suck on this pretty clit if yours?”

“Please!” You repeated, practically a shout.

Joel chuckled, a deep, throaty, gorgeous chuckle, before wrapping his lips around your clit. His hit tongue swirled slowly around it, your pussy throbbing against his face. He moaned against you, hands grasping ahold of your thighs as he kept your legs apart, his mouth focusing on your pussy.

“Oh, Joel. Oh!” You ran your fingers through his graying hair, curls falling in his forehead as you held him there.

He pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he spread your lips open, exposing your cunt to his eyes. Joel ran a tongue over his lower lip, pushing into your tight hole with two of his digits, knuckle deep as he watched you squirm and moan for him. Your nails dug into the leather couch, marks you knew would inevitably be left there. You didn’t care right now. How could you? Joel had set you on fire, every nerve panting his name like a chant. No thoughts of the world, of taxes, of burnt dinner- only of him.

Your back arched against the couch as he ducked you with his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles around your button as he kissed his way up your belly and to your chest, stopping to pay extra care to your tight, stiff nipples. You watched as he sucked them, his every move burning in to your brain, before he came face to face with you.

The curve of his nose pressed into your own, the scruff of his cheeks burning against your face as he pressed his mouth onto yours, a deep, passionate kiss engulfing the both of you. He continued thrusting your fingers deep inside your pussy, yet your hands travelled lower, undoing the buckle of his belt, the zipper of his jeans, until all that separated his thick, throbbing cock from your pussy was the right black material of his briefs.

A shaky breath escaped you as he pulled his hand away, slowly moving it to your throat. Joel was careful not to apply any pressure, instead focusing his grip on the sides, a devilish smirk glimmering down at you.

“Use your words, baby. What do you want from me?”

“Cock. Please. Fuck me.” You were begging now, hips squirming into him.

Joel pulled away momentarily and you watched as his long fingers pushed down his underwear, a thick, veiny, angry cock falling out, slapping against your thigh with a quiet noise. He wrapped his fist around his dick, slowly pumping it with one hand as he held you in place by your neck with the other.

“I could just hold you here, ‘til I cum all over your belly.”

You groaned out in protest, dejected.

“Not want you want? Hmm. Oh. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? Want me to fill you up with my cum, ‘till it’s dripping out of you? Yeah, that’s what you want. I see it in your eyes, girl. You want me to pump you full of cum, fill this cunt right up.”

“Y-yeah.”

He shook his head no. “Mhm.” He warned, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. “Words.”

“Yes please.” You corrected yourself, watching as his handsome face became plastered with a smile.

“That’s more like it. See? Manners maketh man.” He teased, his cock now resting right at your entrance. He moved his hand from your throat, both his arms now at the side of your face, before filling you up with one swift push of his hips.

You were full to the hilt, the tip of his leaking dick pressing against your cervix, a jolt of pain, pleasurable and electrifying, rushing through you. Joel pulled away slowly, watching as the folds of your pussy spread again his shaft, a dirty and sexy sight just for him. He groaned, lip caught between his teeth as he started fucking you proper.

“So tight. So fuckin’ tight. You’re such a dream, darlin’. Such a fuckin’ pretty girl for me.”

Joel reached down, thumbing your clit. He watched the way your back curved off the couch, the way your baby hairs stuck to your forehead, the way your lips parted, singing their sinful song of lust- oh, Joel could’ve cum just from looking at you.

“Wanna cum.” You gasped for air, his fingers dancing against your button as he pounded in to you, hips on hips cracking like whips, sweat forming between your bodies, glueing you together like puzzle pieces.

“I’ll make you cum, honey. Don’t you worry.”

His cock was thrusting deeper and deeper, his tip hitting against that spot that made you shudder. Your shoulders rocked forward as you threw your arms around him, bringing him closer to you. You kissed him again, hungry and wanting, fingers knotting into his hair as you felt your belly clenching. Your cunt wept against his cock, and you felt your orgasm brewing.

“Gonna cum.” You whispered. “Gonna cum on you. Gonna- gonna-“ Your orgasm washed over you, hips thrusting into him as you came.

“Thatta girl. Good girl.” He cooed, his hand rubbing your belly gently. “Look at me.”

You looked at Joel, face slack with tiredness, your orgasm wiping the energy out of you. Nonetheless you held him tightly, legs tight around his waist, his movements now sloppy and wanting as he drove in to you.

When your eyes met, Joel’s face softened, the hint of a smile on his mouth. “So pretty.” He whispered, gently holding your throat again. “I love you, you know that?”

You nodded, rubbing your nose against his. “I know. And I love you.” You whispered, promising, smiling against his mouth as he kissed you once more.

“I’m gonna cum.” Joel snarled into your mouth as his cock twitched, spurts of hot cum painting the inside of your pussy, his body tensing as he held you close and tight, groaning your name into your hair. “Oh, fuck.”

You sighed into his chest as he fell into you, rough hands massaging the softness of your sides as Joel drew you in closer.

You laid against him, packed tight like sardines on the couch, before he looked down at you, eyes glimmering with a sparkle of amusement.

“So.” He began.

“So?” You giggled.

“What’re we gonna do about dinner?”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel tlou

[solaireverie]

f1 | i'd be the man

summary: [ drabbles ] you're the formula one driver and he's your wag. (aka the toto wolff-ification of the fast car boys)

warnings: mentions of racism and sexism

author's note: i had so much fun coming up with non-f1 jobs 😂 i'm convinced that most of the boys would still be obsessed with f1. considering doing this for other drivers, drop some suggestions? 👀

→ CHARLES LECLERC

Charles is a fashion designer who works for one of your sponsors. You find his designs slightly... peculiar and aren't afraid to tell him. Determined to prove you wrong about his vision, Charles volunteers to be your primary point of contact for your partnership with the fashion house.

Your meetings are contentious in the beginning, neither of you understanding the other. You leave each consultation with a throbbing migraine and a barely suppressed urge to throw something at Charles. If only he weren't so damned stubborn. (At the same time, you know that his passion for his craft is half of why you even deign to meet with him.)

A grudging respect forms between you after months of friction and endless banter about what exactly you want your sponsorship to look like. If hard-pressed, you might even call it a friendship.

Charles has been a Formula 1 fan since childhood and is secretly a fan of yours. You find out after you meet him for a design meeting after a rough race and he suddenly goes on a rant about how the driver who took you out was being ridiculous and how you deserved better. You're completely charmed and interrupt him by asking him out on a date.

He's the absolute best boyfriend that you could ever ask for, following you to all the European races and supporting you from Monaco when he can't make it. Charles delights in being able to provide a bit of stability for you in your hectic life. He puts up photos of your race wins in his studio and proudly tells all of his clients about his girlfriend and her achievements.

(You still won't listen to his fashion advice, though.)

→ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Max runs the cat shelter that you adopt your cat from. You notice how cute he is the first time you meet him but you're too shy to make a move — besides, Max cherishes his quiet life and you don't know how open he would be to associating with a public figure like a Formula 1 driver. Still, he's funny and kind and you somehow keep talking.

It starts out innocuously, just pictures and updates about your new cat (because Max cares about all of the cats that he's ever taken care of, even the ones that have been adopted into good homes) and occasional behind-the-scenes updates when you find out that Max likes Formula 1.

Without realizing it, Max becomes one of your closest friends. He catsits for you when you're out of the country for races, picks you up from the airport after international races, and cheerfully beats you at sim racing whenever you have the opportunity to game together.

Max realizes that you're basically dating around a year into your friendship. You sleep at his place, in his bed, more often than not. Sassy likes you more than she likes him. You have his coffee order memorized and he knows your parents. (Your mother adores him and constantly encourages you to make a move.)

He's patient, however, and waits for you to realize your own feelings as well. Dating comes as naturally for you as your friendship did. Although Max doesn't always enjoy the media scrutiny that comes with dating a Formula 1 driver, he takes full advantage of the attention to defend you at any given chance.

In fact, you've been asked multiple times by your team principal to get your boyfriend to calm down before he offends another driver, but you wouldn't change Max for the world.

→ LANDO NORRIS

Lando is a Twitch streamer with a decent following who specializes in gaming, especially e-motorsports. He gets the chance to visit your team's garage when he wins a e-sport tournament. He's an unabashed simp fan and immediately makes a fool of himself when he meets you, but you find it adorable.

(Lando swears up and down to anyone who'll listen that he didn't mean to blush and accidentally propose on the spot.)

You cheekily tell him to take you out on a date first and he surprisingly gets his act together and actually follows through. Lando is incredibly kind and clumsily charming despite his awkward exterior. You can tell that he genuinely likes spending time with you and wants to hear what you have to say.

Lando switches to Youtube and vlogging when your relationship stabilizes so he can spend more time with you. His fans — and yours — love catching glimpses of his elusive Formula 1 driver girlfriend in his videos. It's a running joke among his fans that Lando is your sugar baby, which Lando finds extremely funny and shamelessly accepts.

Eventually, both of you realize that you've found the love of your life and you start thinking about marriage. You propose to each other at the same time, on the vacation that you each planned for the other, while your mutual friends who knew about both sides die of laughter from the sidelines.

Lando insists on taking your name as well and declares that he's now officially your trophy husband.

("Get it? You get trophies from your job, which brought us together, so technically I'm a trophy now too?" "Yes, Lando, I understand double entendres perfectly well." "Ooooh French, fancy!")

→ LEWIS HAMILTON

You meet Lewis in your childhood. He karts at the same track as you and you bond over the shared experience of being "other" from the other drivers. No one ever bets on either of you to be fast, to win, so you bet on each other. Lewis supports you with his entire being, even when he chooses to leave racing to chase other dreams. You dreamed of reaching Formula 1 together but Lewis, in this world, is happy cheering from the paddock.

Everyone around you is convinced that you're dating Lewis, who has become a highly successful model and philanthropist. Who else would would take time out of their insanely busy life to follow you around the world? The closeness between you doesn't help either — Lewis acts like your partner more often than not.

Despite appearances, however, Lewis is just your best friend, and it stays that way until a PR disaster with your respective relationships calls for extensive damage control. The best distraction that your media teams can come up with is that you fake-date each other: what better to appease the masses with than the ever-beloved tale of childhood friends to lovers?

The fake relationship changes something in your previously stable friendship. Suddenly, you can't stop seeing Lewis in a different light and you find yourself wishing that the romance was real. You're terrified of losing one of the most important people in your life, so you keep quiet about your true feelings for months as things calm down.

Eventually, your manager gives the all-clear to end the ruse and you end up scrambling for a reason to maintain it. By that time, Lewis has caught on to you. He stops by one night with a bottle of wine and your favorite movie. As the credits play, he leans over and kisses you softly — the first time he's kissed you out of the eye of the public.

You're lost for words and he quietly assures you that no matter what happens if you pursue a real relationship, he'll always be your Lewis.

Ten years later, happily married with a couple of championships under your belt, you couldn't be happier that you had chosen to say "hi" to the boy at the karting track.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist | taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii

#solwriting #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine

[thegnomelord]

yk how they cover fighting dog's eyes in order to calm them down? would that work on Hound or just rile him up more? if it'd calm him down I can imagine when/if he's "better" enough he'd start shoving his face into price or any of the other 141 to feel safer/calm, like nuzzling in between their shoulder blades/neck or if they're lying down together just pushing his head into their arms 😶‍🌫️

hmmm Price holding Hound against his chest to calm him while he claws and begs into his captain's skin for forgiveness because he acted out again, even if Price had already forgiven him🤔

if the loss of sight just makes things worse then I can see all of them always making sure Hound can know where they are, making noise when they can and maybe even dragging their feet a bit so he doesn't swivel his head around constantly to look for them😚 ignore this if u want tho reading it back is making me cringe a bit-

No, no, anon this is great! Y'all are giving me so many ideas♥️

I definitely think Price would have done that to Hound before he got captured, putting his beanie or just his hand over Hound's eyes and talking about Hound like he wasn't even there to basically calm him down. Like you know how you're a kid sitting between your parents and they're talking about you but you're snoozing or something like that. It would have just been comforting for Hound.

But Makarov soured it by using sensory deprivation as a punishment. And a pretty severe one at that, so Hound gets extremely violent when his sight is deprived.

But also like, when Hound's better, letting them cover his eyes as just this huge show of trust just melts my heart. Like:

CW:SFW just a bunch of fluff, cuddle piles

This feels. . . strange.

You're laying on top of Price, practically crushing him beneath your weight, your head and shoulders pushed beneath his loose shirt so you can lay your head on his naked chest. It's dark, and warm, the scent of musk and sweat curls in your nose as his thick chest hair tickles your face with every even breath, his heart beating so calmly beneath your ears.

It's strange. It's the best way you can describe it; a part of you is disgusted with the proximity, panic occasionally jolting through your system and lining your muscles with lead as your body expects for the hit to come any moment. Only for a calloused hand to run down your spine gently, turning your tense muscles into mush.

"You're alright lad." His voice rumbles in his chest, a type of tone that is both calming and commanding. "Just listen to my voice yeah? Good boy," A pleasant shiver runs up your spine as the praise, a low whimper escaping you as you nuzzle your head further into his pecs. Your head feels stuffed with cotton yet his low praises still reach your brain, and it feels strange to get them without any work, to be praised just for simply existing, but it's also. . . nice.

"Oi Price-" You tense immediately as the door suddenly opens, loud voices shooting lightning into your muscles. Price scruffs you through the shirt before you can react any more, calming you down to the point you don't even notice what they're talking about.

"Wh- Soap!" Price shouts.

You feel the bed dip, a disgruntled sound leaving your chest as a body shuffles under Price's shirt next to you. Soap's scent hits your nose before his head bumps into yours, "Yer like a pig in shite pup." His hair scratches your face as he makes himself comfortable on Price's other pec, and you don't need sight to know he's grinning like a fool. "Cozy in 'ere."

"How comfortable are his tits?" Ghost's voice reaches your ears, and it must be his body that lays down next to yours, supporting some of your weight that you're not crushing Price by wrapping a loose hand around your waist. His body is solid against yours, both of them are, Johnny's arm wrapping around you just bellow Simon's hand, unapologetically groping your ass.

"Boys!" Price sputters, and without sight you can only imagine how flushed his face must be, he always got red as a lobster when you'd tease him. "Can't you be decent for one day?"

"We're wearing pants aren't we?" Gaz's laugh sounds somewhere behind you, and you're pretty sure it's Gaz that lays down between your legs, using your ass as a pillow. "Oh, wow," You hear him mumble as if astonished, heat burning across your skin as you feel him nuzzle into your ass.

A low whine escapes your throat without notice, and you're not sure why, just something about the way they handle you, like you're made of glass, makes lightning crackle down your spine.

"Do you want to stop?" Price's voice is non-judgmental, his hand brushing your hair that peeked through the stretched taught neckline of his shirt.

You shut your eyes, breathing in deeply. "No." You say, your arms gripping Price's pudgy stomach even tighter.

You feel Johnny shift closer to you, his lips blindly brushing against yours. "Aye, yer fine bonnie." He grins, and pushes his head to meet your lips in a proper kiss. You can taste the aftertaste of tobacco from his cigarettes and the mints on his tongue.

This is nice. You could get used to this.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #male reader #polytf141 #poly 141 #captain john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #good dog fic #Hound-reader #cod modern warfare

[ghostandsoap]

Feeling You

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader Tags: Light smut. Cockwarming. Ghost being a softie. Word Count: 1.0k "Just happy you're here."

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

In the quiet sanctuary of your shared solitude, you and Ghost sat chest to chest, your hearts beating in a rhythm that echoed the symphony of your love.

The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other's presence, your souls whispering secrets that only you could understand.

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, blurring the lines between where one ended and the other began. Your breaths intermingled, a testament to the intimacy that you shared. Each inhale was a silent promise, each exhale was a sigh of contentment.

The only sounds were your breathing, heartbeats, and the occasional whimper from you when Ghost shifted his hips underneath you.

Ghost's cock was nestled far inside of you, his tip pushed against a sensitive spot that you didn't even know existed until just now. He stretched your walls so perfectly and sat so comfortably inside of you that Ghost felt high off of it.

You had soaked his thighs and lower stomach, your arousal leaking on and around him. You weren't much better, because your inner thighs were dripping.

The two of you were spending the week together, not a single plan or obligation to be had. Ghost had every intention of staying in and keeping you as close as possible. It wasn't often that he had this opportunity, and he would be a fool to let it pass him by. The week consisted of movies, snacks, cuddles, and just about anything else that didn't require either of you to leave.

The two of you had been lounging on your living room sofa, just watching some cheesy documentary that you both agreed to watch. It was more for filler noise than anything, because the two of you had managed to chat with one another through the entirety of it.

When the film was over, you turned off the TV and your side table lamp to prepare to close your flat up for the night -- however, Ghost wanted just a few more minutes.

This was about an hour ago when Ghost had set you up on his lap. Mainly just because he liked having the chance to look up at you and he loved watching you sit on his thick, muscular thighs.

Frankly though, he hadn't anticipated this.

Somewhere along the way, your cotton sleep shorts and T-shirt were discarded, along with his sweats. Your clothes were tossed aside to be retrieved in the morning.

The two of you had shared some sweet kisses, and all the shifting around prompted Ghost to slide his cock into you slowly when you were wet and ready.

However, Ghost held you still when you tried to bounce on him, which caused you to raise a brow. Ghost was sitting up straight against the back of the couch, holding onto you in his lap like you were his lifeline. It took you a few moments to settle into this arrangement that he was making.

Eventually, the two of you morphed around one another like you were the most perfect fit. Like two pieces of the most beautiful picture.

It was inevitable for you to start squirming though. After all, it was hard to resist him when he was literally right under you.

Ghost groaned and huffed when you rolled your hips forward, one of his hands coming to your hip to restrain you.

"Sit still," He said, kissing your forehead. "I just want to feel you for a bit."

"Sorry," You sighed, head still resting on his shoulder. "Just getting comfortable."

"It's alright, doll..." He chuckled. "Just happy you're here."

Ghost's fingers traced paths of affection on your skin, each touch igniting sparks that danced beneath the surface. The silence returned, filled with the unspoken words of love that hung heavy in the air.

In this moment, you were not just two bodies sitting chest to chest; you were two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of love. Your connection was palpable, a force that defied logic and reason.

As the two of you sat there, Ghost realized that he was living a life he never thought he would ever have. He was experiencing a love that was uniquely his. A kind of love that he once thought he was far too damaged and broken for.

"You're so beautiful," He almost whispered. "My pretty girl..."

You pulled your head back to look at him, your eyes sleepy and cheeks glowing. He loved you so much he could barely even understand it.

"I love you." You remarked, rotating your hips in a way that was more involuntary than anything else.

Ghost couldn't help but let out a low laugh when your grinding down against him was returned with a slow, yet firm snap of his pelvis into you. He knew that this charade wouldn't last long, because one of you was going to crack sooner or later.

"I love you." He returned, his lips meeting yours in a meaningful kiss.

He didn't stop you this time when you started to rock your hips against his cock, the feeling of moving inside of you causing a flutter of his eyes.

He couldn't deny you any longer. He had to let you have your way with him. Truth be told, it was starting to drive him a bit mad anyways.

Your movements along with Ghost's were slow and careful...sensual. He wanted to feel you for as long as he possibly could. He would do this forever and ever if he could.

His cock felt insane inside of you as you fucked him at such a glacial pace. It was insanity because Ghost couldn't believe that he could ever deserve something as good as this...someone as good as you.

The slow rise and fall of your body onto his made both of your hearts begin to beat faster. The two of you craving the other like you were the only source of life.

And in the sound of your shared heartbeat, you found a melody that only your hearts could compose.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x fem ! reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley fanfiction #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x fem! reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost smut #ghost fluff #ghost fanfiction #modern warfare 2 fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii fanfiction #ghostandsoap

[worldlxvlys]

the way i loved you

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing

a/n: hope you likeee <333

i watched as nick pulled an array of snacks from a plastic bag, setting them on the table.

today nick, matt, chris, and i were going to be filming a video where we rate snacks from around the world.

once nick set the camera up, he did the intro and explained what we would be doing.

while nick explained where he got the food, i watched Chris pick up a small pink tin, inspecting it.

i slowly began to tune out nick’s voice, focusing on the way chris’s fingers ran across the tin.

he carefully placed the tin down, drumming his fingers along the table.

god, his fingers are so long. they’re perfect-

no! stop! you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend’s fingers like that !

i quickly look away from his fingers, realizing i was staring.

luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.

as nick continued to explain the concept of the video, i watched as chris began to smile.

i love how excited he is, he’s adorable.

as i smiled at his eagerness, he happened to look at me, catching my gaze as we smiled at each other.

once nick finished explaining, we decided to try the sour candy in the pink tin first.

i watched as chris attempted to take the plastic wrapping around the tin off, but was unsuccessful.

he fumbled with the plastic, and it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands still. he almost seemed, nervous ?

he turned to me with a bashful smile on his face, “can you open it, please?”

“yeah, i got you” i said as i grabbed it from his hands, removing the plastic wrapping and handing it back to him.

“this one has vitamin c, which one’s that?” he looked at me, expectantly.

“why would i know ?” i asked, furrowing my brows.

“i don’t know, you’re the smart one” he mumbled.

“shut up” i laughed as i shook my head , “you’re smart too” .

we all tried one, and agreed that they weren’t actually sour, despite the tin having the word sour across it in big letters.

“doesn’t it feel like you have to put a lot of effort into getting that grape flavor ?” nick pointed out.

he scrunched his face up, making us all laugh, as chris put his hand on my shoulder, leaning onto me as he laughed.

i love hearing him laugh.

we gave it a rating, and moved onto the next candy.

once we realized they were slide whistles, we all started busting out laughing.

we all started fooling around, laughing at each other’s shenanigans.

chris wrapped his arms around my waist, laughing into my shoulder. the sound of his laugh, made me laugh even harder.

as we continued to try and rank the snacks, chris grew more and more touchy.

not that i’m complaining.

there were many times where i would catch him staring at me and vice versa. he made it so easy to enjoy his presence.

once we finished our last snack and agreed on the final ranking of everything, nick closed out the video and turned off the camera.

i turned to chris. “that was fun” i said trying to fight the shit-eating grin that was forming on my face.

“i agree” he said, returning the smile.

“jesus christ” matt spoke up from behind us, rolling his eyes and walking away.

“what ?” we called out.

A FEW DAYS LATER

nick, chris, and i were hanging out in the living room.

i was scrolling on tik tok, occasionally showing them videos that i found funny.

as i continued to scroll, i came across one video in particular that made my heart begin to race.

the lyrics of The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift filled the room.

what the actual fuck.

and he says, you look beautiful tonight. and i feel perfectly fine. but i miss…

clips of chris and i staring at each other fill the screen.

screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it’s 2 am and i’m cursing your name

chris holding onto my waist, hugging me, leaning on me

so in love that you act insane, and that’s the way i loved you

us laughing together, looks of pure joy on our faces.

i glance to my right, seeing chris already staring down at my phone.

fuck. what do i do ? what do i say ?

suddenly, nick yells “oh my god is that the ship edit of you and chris ? that shit’s blowing up !” he said.

“damn, nick. how’d you know ?”

“i reposted it”

“WHAT?” chris and i stared at him like he had five heads.

“well, it was good. and c’mon, doesn’t take a genius to realize y’all like each other” he said, nonchalantly.

“i’m going to the bathroom” he said, walking off.

i’m literally losing my mind. a ship edit ? a TAYLOR ship edit ? we’re never beating the dating allegations.

“well, what do the comments say?” chris asked, his voice shaking the slightest bit.

i glanced over at him, before opening the comments.

sturniolowhore

awww they’re adorable

blueeyedbesson

they’d look so good tg

abbie13sworld

they’re literally in love no one can convince me otherwise

mommysturns

i literally love them tg 💗

babydollfae22

they need to stop playing and get tg

mbbsgf

them + taylor makes me so happy

“damn. they kinda love us together” i said. i scrolled, expecting to move onto something else.

suddenly, Tattoo by Loreen came on. this edit had clips of chris and i from the recent video and over the years.

it’s like we’re watching a progression of our relationship over the past few years.

every wandering eye, stolen glance, smile that was a little too wide, touch, hug that lasted a little too long, the fans always noticed them.

it was literally right in front of our faces the entire time.

listening to the sound of violins swelling while watching chris and i’s interactions almost made me want to cry.

i turned to chris, who was already staring at me.

he looked down at my lips. “what do the comments say?” he asked.

i turned back to my phone, opening them up.

sophssturn

they’re literally perfect for each other

xhiejfy

how adorableeee

bernardenjoyer

they’re cute ig but me and jimmy would be cuter

queen161718

literally just watched them fall in love with each other

vib3swithanuk

they’re good for each other

fr3sh-love

so so happy for them

“they think that we’d be good together” i told him.

“i think i agree with them” he whispered.

“then maybe you should ask me out” i said, my gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips.

our noses touched. “will you go out with me ?”

i smiled, “hell yeah” i whispered before pushing my lips onto his.

—————-

y’all see any familiar names ? 🤨

i love y’all <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @mommysturns @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #chris sturniolo fic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fic #sturniolo fluff

[system-to-the-madness]

お米 Okome - Inumaki Toge x Reader

Pairing: Inumaki Toge x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff Word Count: 4 532 Warnings: mentions of blood and injury Summary: Inumaki hates that he can’t use his voice to express his feelings towards you

Masterlist

Inumaki Toge doesn’t usually struggle with his fate. If there’s a situation he doesn’t like, he prefers action over lament and puts his mind to work to find a way to change it. Sure, there are situations he can’t change, his cursed speech for example, then he works around those things, finds a way to deal with it somehow. He talks in onigiri ingredients, occasionally uses a notebook or his phone’s note app to communicate more difficult matters. Inumaki Toge doesn’t usually struggle with his fate.

Except now he does. His eyes fall on Yuuta and you, sitting on a bench underneath the Momiji, red leaves sparkling in the autumn sun. Even from the distance where Toge just stepped out of the building across the yard, he can tell how hard you’re laughing, can tell that Yuuta has the biggest grin on his face. He stops, several different thoughts shooting through his head all at once. He loves your laugh. He wants to make you laugh too. He can’t, because of his cursed speech. He envies Yuuta for being able to tell you joke and making you laugh like that. And suddenly he remembers this thing he read in a magazine, that said that girls like boys who can make them laugh, and his stomach sinks.

 Toge already knows you like Yuuta. Its’s obvious. Do you like him because he can make you laugh? Toge stops in his steps where he was about to walk over to join the two of you, his heart suddenly thrumming almost painfully in his chest. Do you like Yuuta? He watches his black-haired friend, watches as he lifts his hand and leans a little closer to you. You stop laughing and lean in too. For a terrifying moment Toge thinks he’s about to witness you, the classmate he may or may not have had the biggest crush on since your first one-on-one training session, kiss his friend. But you don’t. Instead, you listen to something Yuuta says that Toge can’t make out over the distance and burst into another fit of laughter.

Suddenly Toge feels like crying. He could never make you laugh like that. Not by whispering a few words into the narrow space between you, not by letting words roll over his tongue. He can write them down, or pantomime them, or fool around to make you laugh, but he can never whisper them.

He wants to talk to you about normal things too, about the stupid weather, or how pretty you look with that new hoodie, or how clever your answers in class were, or how annoying Gojo and this new homework is. He doesn’t want to have to use his notebook for every slightly more complicated conversation, but he can’t be sure you would understand him if he didn’t. It doesn’t stop him from wishing he could use his voice to talk to you. Ever since he really, truly understood his cursed technique, he’s realized just how powerful and yet intimate voice is.

It’s something he’ll never be able to use to communicate his feelings.

Once, not long after Yuuta had joined the school, they, together with Panda, had talked about it. Or rather Yuuta and Panda had talked about his cursed technique, and he had listened. Panda had joked that if he ever wanted someone to kiss him, he could just use his cursed technique, which Yuuta had disagreed on, saying he’d need the other person’s permission to use his technique on them, otherwise it’d be harassment. Panda, who hadn’t thought about that, had quickly agreed, and the two had joked around a bit longer about the possibilities this offered. Toge thought about their words a lot. But there was something inside him, that wholly refused to use his technique for these purposes. It just wouldn’t feel right. Even if the other person agreed, or even asked him to do it, it would be like he’d take their will from them. He’d never do that for his own pleasure.

Toge gets pulled back into the moment by your voice calling for him. He blinks and looks up, finding you and Yuuta had turned to face him, waving him over. As much as he appreciates Yuuta, and as much as he likes you, he doesn’t feel like going over. He doesn’t want to hear the way your voice probably rises in pitch when talking to the special grade sorcerer, doesn’t want to watch Yuuta subtly touch you, doesn’t want to feel like he’s intruding on this moment between you, doesn’t want to burden himself with more heartbreak than he already signed up for.

He swallows thickly before he crosses his arm like an X in front of his chest.

“Okaka,” he denies, continuing his way as if he had planned on moving towards the dojo, instead of towards his friends.

He doesn’t dare to glance over to see your reaction. Are you disappointed? If you were, he’d feel guilty. If you weren’t, he’d be disappointed. If he’s being honest, he can understand that you like Yuuta. The guy is sensitive, and quiet, a good listener, great at giving advice. He’s funny and overall great company. And he’s crazy powerful. Otherwise he wouldn’t be a special grade sorcerer. And he saved your life when Toge himself was of absolutely no help whatsoever, instead almost throwing up from the taste of his own blood.

Toge is nothing in comparison to Yuuta. Sure, he has a strong technique. A strong technique he can use two to three times before his throat is bleeding. And he can be funny, or at least he’s good at making a fool of himself. And he can listen, but he never knows what to answer, worried that whichever advice he gives, it might not actually be helpful, or only make everything worse. So, if you like Yuuta, he gets it. If he were in your place, he’d also prefer Yuuta over himself. Not that you have to choose between the two of them, you could also be interested in neither of them. But the point stands: Yuuta is the better fit for you, and as much as Toge wants you to be happy, it breaks his heart.

-

“What was that,” asks Yuuta, tearing his eyes away from his retreating friend and looking at you instead.

You’re still watching Inumaki leave, his posture somewhat sunken in, hands buried in his pockets. He looks defeated and somehow you want to run after him, ask him what’s wrong. But that would be too pushy, too clingy, wouldn’t it? So instead, you swallow and turn back to Yuuta.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “He’s been… weird lately.”

Yuuta nodded. “I know, right? And ever since that last mission…”

That last mission, on which Gojo sent the three of you. That last mission where Inumaki’s voice gave out before he could finish the command, which lead to the curse injuring you. That last mission where Yuuta had been the one who had finished the short fight in just a single blow. You knew better than to assume that Inumaki was jealous of Yuuta’s power. You knew he wasn’t. But still something seemed to have dimmed his formerly good relationship with Yuuta. And with you too. He avoided you, texted you less throughout the day, reduced his already limited vocabulary to the equivalents of agreement and disagreement. You feel like you’ve made a mistake somehow, said or done something that hurt him.

“Do you think he’d talk to me about it,” you wonder, your voice small, nothing left of the breathless laughter from a moment ago.

Yuuta chews on his lip as he considers your question, and you know he’s considering a few things he officially doesn’t even know about. For example that you like Inumaki, that you make an active effort to spend time with him, have conversations with him. You’re the one who understands him the best, understands his language the best, even without the notebook.

What you don’t know, is that Yuuta also knows the other side of the story. He knows that Inumaki uses his notebook with you the most, because he wants you to understand his mind. He knows that Inumaki spends a lot of time considering each and every conversation he’s had with you. Sometimes, it’s late at night, and Yuuta gets a text from Inumaki, telling him about a conversation he’s had with you and if he should have replied something else. It’s not hard to tell that Inumaki is absolutely enamoured with you, and you with him. At least it’s not hard to tell from Yuuta’s perspective. But the way Inumaki and you never seem to understand the affection the other is harbouring, Yuuta begins to think that it’s actually very hard to tell from either of your perspectives. Or you’re both just idiots. Which, honestly, as much as he likes the two of you, is more likely.

“I’m not sure,” Yuuta eventually answers your question. There’s a lot Inumaki is bottling up, a lot he doesn’t even tell Yuuta about, stuff Yuuta can only assume. “But I think he’d probably appreciate it if you asked. Maybe he won’t tell you what’s going on, but I think he’d be glad to know you care.” This is as much as he can do to be honest without giving his friend’s secret away to you. A secret, Yuuta doesn’t even know officially.

“Don’t you think he’d get annoyed? He looked pretty upset just now,” you ask. You’re torn between wanting to show Inumaki that you cared, and scared of getting sent away or even worse, him getting angry at you.

“I mean, if you’re worried about it, you can always give him an hour or two. But I don’t think he’d mind if it were you, checking up on him.”

You don’t question Yuuta’s phrasing. Everyone knows you and Inumaki understand each other on a different level, the speed at which you sometimes communicate in single words thrown back and forth leaving the others out of their wits and completely clueless what the conversation was about.

“I’ll give him five,” you decide, leaning your back against the wooden table and glancing up at the red leaves overhead. “If he gets mad at me, it’s on you.”

Yuuta laughs, knowing you’re not serious. You’re not the kind of person who blames others for the outcome of your actions.

“He’d never get mad at you.”

“He looked pretty mad at me for getting injured on that last mission,” you disagree with Yuuta.

“He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. He blamed your injury on himself, when he couldn’t stop that curse because his voice gave out.”

You winced at the memory of blood trickling down from the corner of Inumaki’s mouth. He had once told you that he sometimes got sick from the taste, and after the curse was taken care of by Yuuta, it had been easier to focus on Inumaki than your own state. You remembered how awful the bright red blood had looked against his unusually pale skin.

“It wasn’t his fault, and he knows that.”

“Rationally yes,” Yuuta agreed. “But he still blames himself.”

“I’m surprised he talked to you about that,” you admit, closing your eyes in the sun. Behind your eyelids the picture of Inumaki’s bloody and scared face haunts your memory. You open your eyes again. “He never mentioned anything like that to me.”

“He didn’t, but it’s obvious,” Yuuta said.

“Is it?”

He just hummed in agreement.

“What else is obvious?”

“A lot. But that’s not mine to talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you and Inumaki really should talk about some stuff,” Yuuta answers, “Like for example that you like him.” He almost feels bad at the way you freeze up beside him.

“I don’t,” you deny, but there is no force in your voice.

“Just saying,” Yuuta shrugs. “A lot of stuff is obvious. Just not to you and him.”

There’s a moment of silence and you have a feeling Yuuta knows what you’re about to ask, your cheeks burning with shame, but you ask anyway.

“Does he like me too?”

Yuuta turns to you then, his big eyes studying you for a moment intensely. “You don’t have to ask me that. You have to ask him.”

You exhale with a sigh a glance at your wristwatch: “Fine… maybe not today, tho.”

Yuuta chuckles, knowing that that’s going to be your response for every day to come, but he doesn’t call you out for it. He doesn’t know if he’d have the courage to confess his feelings if he were in your position either.

“Welp, his five minutes are up. I’m gonna see if he’s okay,” you declare, and stand up from the bench you had been lounging on. “Just-” you glance down at your classmate. “Just don’t tell him about this conversation, will you?”

Yuuta nods. “I can keep a secret,” he smiles, and you’re satisfied, before you head into the same direction Inumaki ran off to a few minutes prior.

He wasn’t in the dojo where you expected him to be after he had wandered off there, so left a little helpless, you began searching for him. After checking all the usual places, you finally spied him sitting hunched over on a bench next to the koi pond in one of the small, traditional gardens squeezed between the buildings. He looked lost in thought, so you made an effort to not walk too quietly as not to startle him. But when you reached the bench and he still hadn’t turned to look up you, you furrowed your brows in confusion. Was he mad at you?

“Inumaki-san,” you asked quietly, sitting down next to him with a safe distance. He wasn’t wearing his full uniform, instead of the black jacket he had pulled a warm, green vest over the white shirt sleeved shirt with the high collar that hid his curse marks. “Toge?”

At the use of his given name, he finally looked up at you.

Your breath stopped when you saw the sadness in his purple eyes. He quickly blinked it away, but you knew what you had seen, your heart hurting at the way he had seemed so lost. Maybe even worse was that he didn’t want to show his feelings to you, instead masking them up.

“What’s wrong.”

“Okaka.” Nothing. Why?

“Don’t,” you warned him, “Don’t lie to me. Please don’t.”

“Okaka, okaka!” I’m not lying!  He said it with amusement in his voice, but when you failed to smile, his eyes grew serious again. “Okaka.” Nothing’s wrong.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Shake, shake.” Yeah, yeah, I know.

“Do you want to talk to me?”

This time his answer took longer, and it was only quietly spoke when he answered with another “Shake.”

Instead of saying anything else, he began reaching for the notebook he always carried with him, but before his fingertips had even grazed the cover, you caught his hand.

“You can talk to me. I’ll understand you. No notebook needed.”

Toge looked up at you then, his eyes widened. What did you mean, you didn’t need the notebook? Would you really understand him?

“Tuna,” he mumbled, averting his gaze from yours, but from the corner of his eyes he saw you tilt your head. How the hell was he supposed to communicate his feelings with onigiri ingredients? He had words to agree and disagree, words to catch attention and swear, but how was he supposed to tell you his greatest wish was to talk to you without having to use this damn notebook, that he wanted to just use normal language, like everyone else? How was he supposed to tell you how much it hurt to see you liking Yuuta? “Okaka.” It won’t work.

“You can try. And if it doesn’t work, you can still write it down, okay?”

“Shake.” Okay. He reached his hand up, absentmindedly running his fingers over his curse marks peeking out from under his high collar. “Ikura.” I hate them.

He had more mumbled that to himself, but you nodded. “They don’t make life very easy, do they?”

“Shake.” No, they don’t. Toge focused on what he wanted you to know, that he wished he could talk to you without risking cursing you. “Furikake… saamon.”

Okay, this was new. Not just one, but two new ingredients. Rice spice and the other word for salmon. You furrowed your brows. “Can you say that again?”

“Furikake saamon,” Toge repeated, slowly, trying to convey his feelings through just these two words. This was never gonna work.

“You want to talk about your thoughts?”

His eyes widened at your correct interpretation of his words.

“Shake, shake!” Enthusiastically he nodded his head. “Furikake saamon! Nori nai!”

“Nori nai, nori na- you don’t want to use…”

“Nori!” He motioned to his mouth, then to the notebook in his pocket.

“Onigiri ingredients and the notebook? You don’t want to use them?”

“Shake, shake!”

He nodded again, and you could see how excited he was, his eyes shining with disbelief that he had managed to communicate something so out of context to you. Quickly he reached up and pulled the zipper of his collar down, so he could additionally use his mimic to tell you what he was thinking.

“Tarago Furikake.” His lilac eyes were widened expectantly, as he waited for you to decipher his words.

“You want to talk?”

He nodded, then pointed at you. “Tarago furikake,” he repeated, underlining his words with stabbing his finger into your direction.

“You want to talk to me?”

“Shake. Nori nai furikake tamago. Okaka.”

“I know. I know it’s difficult without the notebook,” you sighed. “But we’re managing. Right? It might take me a while to get used to it, but I we’re having a normal conversation right now, right? A bit like talking with someone in a foreign language, but not much different than that.”

Toge smiled, the sight making your breath hitch. You were used to seeing his eyes squeeze together when he smiled, but his mouth usually was covered by his collar. You couldn’t help but think that he was one of the most beautiful people you knew.

“Furikake nai, tamago, maguro, nori” he continued.

“Maguro,” you repeated the second last word, thinking what he might have meant. Quietly you mumbled the phrase he had just uttered, your eyes skipping away from his face and over the koi pond instead, as if the translation were written in the ripples on the water surface. Without talking, having to write everything down, he felt bad… like an outsider. Your eyes widened. Was this really what he had wanted to say? That he felt like an outsider? You looked back at him, seeing the shock on his face as he took in your expression.

“We’re making you feel like an outsider because you can’t talk to us? Toge-“

“Okaka, Okaka!” He quickly waved his hands around, signalling you had misunderstood. “Tamago. Maguro.” He pointed to himself.

“You feel like an outsider?”

“Shake!”

“Because you can’t talk to us?”

“Shake.” This time his voice was quieter, and he averted his gaze.

You exhaled quietly. You knew there was not much you could do to change the way he felt, nothing you weren’t doing already anyway. But to deny his feelings wouldn’t be right, even if you wanted to convince him that he wasn’t an outsider.

“I’m sorry,” you started. “I promise you, to us, you’re an integral part of the group, even if you don’t feel like you always are. Do you… do you have any ideas how we could help you feel more included?”

Toge shook his head. “Okaka,” he denied, and then pointing at himself: “Tamago.” It’s my negative feeling. “Tanaka-zuku mentaiko.” You’re doing everything right. There’s nothing you can do to change that. He hesitated for a moment before he added: “Furikake.”HHe hesitated for a moment before he added.

“Of course, we’ll keep talking to you. And you see that you can talk to us too. If I can learn to understand you, so can the others.”

Toge seriously doubted that, but he didn’t voice his thought, instead focusing back on what you had been talking about. “Tarago furikake mayo. Tuna-mayo furikake, saamon tamago, shiisamu. Takana-zuke tarago tuna-mayo shiisamu.”

You stared at him intensely, making his heart race. There was no way you had understood what he had just said. Was there? He was using words he had never used with you, or anyone at jujutsu high, before. He had sometimes used them when he had been younger, when he had talked to his toys as a little kid, finding ingredients for almost anything he could think of. That he still remembered them was a surprise. But there was no way you’d understand him like this, not even when he tried to embed the sentimental meaning of each word into his voice. Your eyes skipped over his face, as you were thinking hard, and Toge waited for the “Sorry, I don’t know what you mean, please write it down.” But it didn’t come. Instead, you answered him.

“I want you to be able to talk openly too. And I’d love to hear about the bad things you think and feel as much as about the good things. Because they’re part of you. Even when they’re hard, even when they’re painful and difficult to admit. But that’s why we have each other, right? So we’re not alone, so the difficult times aren’t quite as difficult. And you already make me laugh, you already make me feel happy. I’m always the happiest when I’m with you.”

You hadn’t used the word friend. The thought rang in Toge’s mind, and together with your last sentence it accumulated to the next words that spilled over his lips, words he had been certain he’d never actually say out loud. Words, which’s meaning he had thought he’d never communicate to you in any form or way.

“Tarago tuna-mayo furikake okome. Tarago tanaka-zuke okome.”I want to use my voice to tell you that I’m in love with you. I want you to be in love with me too.

The moment the words had left his lips, he wanted to make it all undone. What if you had understood him and didn’t feel the same way? All this time he wished you’d understand him, and now he hoped you hadn’t understood a word of what he had just uttered. The way you stared at him wide eyed was a good sign that you really hadn’t.

“Okome,” you asked, your heart beating in your throat. If you had thought rationally about the way he was listing food, you wouldn’t have had the faintest idea of what he had wanted to express, but somehow his emotions were swinging in his words, like the sounds accumulated to a meaning that wasn’t transported by words.

“Mentaiko,” he began, wanting to lift his hands to wave it off, to tell you that it wasn’t important.

But before he had completed the gesture, you caught his wrist with your dominant hand, raising the other between you, pointing at him.

“Okome,” you asked before pointing to yourself. Your voice was shaky, and you could see the moment Toge realized you had understood him.

His eyes widened and he paled a little, swallowing hard. You could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid you’d turn him down, you realized, and your heart broke a little.

So, what did you do, when your best friend, who you had liked for far too long without acting on it, accidentally confessed his love to you? Using the word for “rice” nonetheless, the base ingredient for onigiri. Because just like one couldn’t make rice balls without rice, humans couldn’t live without love.

You repeated the gesture towards yourself, pointing at you again. “Okome,” you said, voice just as shaky as before, before pointing at Toge.

His eyes followed your finger, the way it was pointing right at his chest, where his heart was stuttering in excitement, and then doing cartwheels, as the realization began settling in.

“Okome,” he asked in disbelieve.

But you just nodded. “Okome.”

He acted quicker than you could really perceive. Your one hand was still holding onto his wrist, to stop him from gesticulating, his skin warm underneath yours, but with the other he grabbed the hand with which you had pointed between you and him. His fingers wrapped around yours tightly, pulling you towards him, pressing your hand right over his heart, while he leant in at the same time, connecting his lips to yours.

A shiver went through you, at the feeling of his warm body underneath his clothes, at his soft lips pressed to yours, at the strange tingling of cursed energy that radiated from his cursed mark. And then you abandoned all thoughts, and just acted on instinct, moving closer to him, wrapping your hand into the fabric of his vest, and kissing him like you had wanted to kiss him for such a long time already.

A sound of appreciative surprise erupted from Toge’s throat and you could feel him smile as he met your kiss with equal fervour, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of your lips. When you parted them just the smallest fraction, he didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue past them, exploring your mouth until both of you had to pull away for breath. You were breathing heavily, your mind foggy, fingers wrapped into his vest, holding on to something, otherwise it felt like the world would just slip away.

When you opened your eyes, you found he was already looking at you. His beautiful eyes were scanning over your face as if searching for any sign of discomfort, as if he expected you to scold him for kissing you. Honestly, at this point the only scolding he’d get was that he had stopped kissing you.

Unwrapping one of your hands from where you had clung to him, you brushed a strand of his bright hair out of his forehead, the curl soft against your fingertips. With a smile you leant forward, and pressed your lips to his left cheek, then the curse mark there, feeling the cursed energy sizzle through them. You moved on to his right cheek, then his forehead, the tip of his nose, his chin, peppering small kisses all over his face until he was full on laughing and took hold of your face with both of his hands, pulling you only far enough away from him to be able to look into your eyes. His were still crinkled in joy, but his voice was serious and heavy with how much he meant this single word phrase that left his lips without hesitation.

“Okome.” And then he kissed you again, slower this time, just to make sure you understood each little detail of what he felt for you. Inumaki Toge sometimes struggled with his fate, but as long as he had you to understand him, what else could he really ask for?

Tags: @nnasv @ashy-akuma @delzinrowe

#inumaki toge x reader #inumaki toge x you #inumaki toge x yn #inumaki toge x y/n #inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #inumaki x yn #inumaki x y/n #toge x reader #toge x you #toge x yn #toge x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x yn #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x y/n #mad jjk

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!chan, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1420

a/n: my favorite chan is back<33

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlist

loser!chan who was now thoroughly and utterly addicted to you to the point where he couldn't function unless he had his daily dosage of you.

ever since that first encounter, chan knew that he would never get enough of you, but it wasn't until that fated day in which you finally took his virginity that chan knew that he was thoroughly fucked.

he couldn't think of anything but you. during any lulls in class, his mind would go straight to you and all the things the two of you could do together. when he woke up in the middle of the night, it was in a cold sweat as he awoke from a filthy dream about you. even in the moments you were in front of him, in the most innocent of circumstances, his mind would go straight to the gutter.

you had ruined former chan.

after that first time experiencing what it felt like to be with a pretty girl like you, chan had become instantly addicted to the feeling, now constantly seeking you out as much as possible.

he had become a bit of a pervert, in short terms.

instead of you seeking him out, knowing chan was too shy to do it on his own, the dynamic had shifted. now chan would text you asking to come over every other night. he'd occasionally beg you for nudes any time he you were too busy to see him. and the best worst of all had been a few days ago, when you'd caught him sniffing your panties after the two of you had slept together.

chan couldn't lie. he did become a depraved version of himself through the months in which he'd been fooling around with you. it had all just hit a peak when you took his virginity. he now understood why everyone around him was so obsessed with sex. and he believed himself to be insane for not having lost his virginity sooner. except he was thankful he hadn't, because that meant that he now had the most gorgeous girl to please and to please him in return.

at first you seemed surprised by the change, gasping whenever chan would try and take charge and jump you as soon as you stepped into the threshold of his dorm room. but you clearly seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it by teasing him or enticing him into fucking you faster and harder. you'd even left behind a few pairs of panties after having noticed that first missing pair.

~

"m-more, fuck. please ... p-push it back, i need it," he mumbled against your cunt, lazily licking at it from behind.

his arms were holding onto your hips, dragging them against his face as he ate you out.

this was yet another thing chan had recently grown infatuated with – eating you out.

whether it was day or night, chan would take any possible opportunity to get himself between your legs or bend you over in order to get his mouth on your cunt. these escapades would always result in the two of you fucking like animals on the bed, but nowadays chan always insisted in eating you out beforehand.

it was always quite a filthy sight, the way in which he'd still whine and beg for you, even when he didn't get any gratification from the act. crying against your cunt, he'd get more desperate by the minute, forcing you to arch your back more so he could get an even better angle to lick and suckle at you.

like now, as he manhandled you to his desired position in the same fashion of a petulant child, demanding things go his way. you aided him, grinding against his face, only causing him to groan against you yet again.

"cum for me?", he mumbled against you, "wanna taste it so bad ..." he pulled away for a moment, simply staring at your cunt, "its so pretty ... fuck, your cunt's so fucking good to me," he moaned before going back at it even more intensely this time.

it didn't take long for you to cum for him. with the combination of praise and his messy way of eating you out, it was impossible for you to hold back. the worst part was how he moaned and thanked you as he licked every drop of arousal coming out of you. the combination of praise and pleasure made the experience entirely blinding, eventually forcing you to drop on the bed in exhaustion.

he climbed over you, giving you a nasty kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

after months of seeing each other, chan had perfected the art of those messy, wet kisses he loved to share with you so much. sometimes he'd even have to hold back from giving you short and sweet kisses while in public, knowing that his tongue might sneak into your mouth and create a scene of public indecency.

equally as depraved as him, you grabbed onto his hair and pushed his face against your own, moaning as you suckled on his tongue. you made out and felt each other up for some minutes until chan's hands grew too greedy, attempting to flip you over so that he could fuck you from behind.

this was yet another new development in your relationship.

having taken his virginity only some months back, you had shown chan every position you could think of, teaching him the ins and outs in order to optimize his pleasure. as time passed, he became more confident in his ability to fuck you, now often opting to fuck you rather than have you take full control (though he still went crazy any time you manhandled him and rode him all the way to oblivion)

positioning you, he ignored the thought of a condom altogether, having been informed by you that you had a iud and did not feel the need to ever use one with him. chan was yet to know what it was like to fuck with one, and he didn't ever want to find out.

he also learned that he enjoyed teasing you. this would usually take form in him rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds, making you whine and push back against him to get him to slide in.

rubbing himself against you, he hissed at the warmth he felt at barely dipping his tip in a tiny bit. you were always so wet and warm for him. only him. the thought made him push in with no warning, needing to feel the physical manifestation of how much you were his.

groaning at the feeling, he leaned forward, pressing up against your back as he fucked into you. the feeling of naked skin against naked skin was one of his favorite things. he couldn't help but fall in love with the intimacy of it.

"how do you feel s-so fucking good?" he groaned, pace of his hips going crazy against your ass.

"you, channie ... you do this to me. so good. such a good boy," you sighed.

even when he was in control, you managed to take it right back with just your words. your claims of ownership over him along with your praise were things he could no longer live without. he loved that you had been the only person to claim him. he was enamored with the fact.

"y-yeah? i think its you. you gorgeous, gorgeous girl. im yours? y'know what?", he leaned as close to your ear as he could, "you're all mine too."

whining at this, you tightened around him, making him lose his composure yet again. this had been the first time he had rebutted at your usual mumbles of him being your good boy. and he loved it. he loved knowing that even as he was your good boy, you were his pretty girl. his and no one could ever have you again.

continuing to hump against each other like wild animals in heat, your highs came to you at an almost equal speed, optimizing your orgasms all the better.

chan fell limp on the bed, being immediately dragged by you so you could lay by his side and cuddle him like you always did. your aftercare of him always made him cry inside. you took care of him so well, giving him all the affection a boy like him could ever hope for.

the usual i love you's were shared, falling into your slumber without having enough energy to even clean up.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #chan imagines #chan smut #chan fanfic #lee chan x reader #dino smut #dino x reader #dino imagines #dino fanfic #dino scenarios

[nmakii]

DOMESTIC LIFE WAS NEVER QUITE MY STYLE…

— married life with alastor back in 1925, louisiana

— is this ooc :(? ive been in a ooc rut ever since school ended i miss my pookies n like i cried so much that day 😔 BTW THIS IS THE FIC I HSED THE ALASTOR AI TEXTS :>

lord above! you have to be some kind of gem to secure a man such as alastor. to be that woman, it’s almost certain that you’re someone who understands alastor in ways no one else has.

he doesn’t tend to express his affections physically, but more than makes up for it through his sweet nothings and lavish gifts

he’s most definitely the type to spoil his wife, but only if you ask him for it yourself. he doesn’t want to buy things you have no use for

has a trust fund in his will set for you if, god forbid, he died before you. he doesnt want his love to worry about money, just let him take care of it.

unlike many households at the time, alastor would help with the chores. despite his full-time job, he’d sorta understand that taking care of a house is a full-time job in itself since he’d spent his childhood watching how hard his mother works so, he agrees to always split chores with you.

because of his work, and his popularity, his boss asks that he comes in early to host the morning segment of the show. because of this, it’s not often that you two share a morning together. but, he still remembers to kiss your pretty head good morning, occasionally adding a request for dinner

his mother is MORE than happy to welcome you into the family. she’s just glad that her son found someone that makes him happy.

honestly on the fence about kids. on one hand, it’d make his mother really happy, as well as how it’s expected at the time period. but, he isn’t too interested in physically showing his desires. and, he is quite busy as well with his job and the whole murdering thing. it’s only if you ask him explicitly that he’d decide to look into it, maybe adoption? :>

quite good at putting your insecurities at ease. sweet nothings for days on end can come out of his mouth and he’s still not done.

as you sob into alastor’s chest, his arms wrap around your body warmly as he plays with your hair. "whenever you’re ready to talk, my love.” he held you close, wiping your tears until you were ready to talk.

alastor listened silently as you told him of all your doubts; that you weren’t a good wife, the whispers of every woman in town, everything. “my love, i’ll love you no matter what. it’s the woman inside that i am in love with.” he says as he brushes the hair out of your face, gazing down at you lovingly. “i won’t lie, there are times when you are… feisty. but, it’s your passion and intelligence that always bring me back to you.”

your lips quiver as you try to quell your tears. “can… can you swear that? that you’ll love me no matter what..?” his gaze became gentle as he saw the genuine doubt in your expression. “you have my word, dear. no matter what happens, i’d never stop loving you. even if we fought everyday, i would still be a fool for you. because, well… i suppose the heart wants what the heart wants. and, it is you that my heart yearns for, love.” alastor assured you, his eyes falling as he spoke.

as the sweet nothings fell from his lips, your tears ceased, finding the warmth in his touch. “thank you, dear… you always know how to make me feel better, i love you so much…” you sighed, curling into his touch. “mmh, i love you as well, my pretty girl.” he grinned, kissing your forehead.

as stated above, alastor is not particularly attracted to your looks, but moreso your intelligence and your ability to see right through that charming facade of his. funnily enough, it started a healthy relationship for one of the most deranged men out there.

he’d also be quite attracted to you if you joined him one night. nothing’s more attractive than your beautiful wife in a pretty dress he bought for you all bloodied up with a knife in your hand.

he loves to show you off to the newspapers as his pretty doll, not only because you’re quite the eye candy, but to also make you confident in yourself

he’d still get jealous whenever he’d catch someone staring too long though. ironically enough, he thinks it’s adorable when you get jealous and pout your face. he’s your’s after all, body and soul! why fuss over something that’s not gonna happen?

arguments are quite rare since alastor doesn’t tend to do things that are argument worthy. one of the few reasons you tend to argue is when alastor heads to the club after work and comes home drunk and much later than he intended to. and, after all that, he still apologizes for coming home late, probably tries to come home early so he can cook dinner the next day as an apology :>

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #alastor the radio demon #human alastor

[totalswag]

Can you write a headcanons that Drew meets actress!reader for the first time and that they end up dating. (she's not in the cast of obx)

Like reader doesn't know who Drew is at all but Drew knows her from some movies or series, they meet at a party of their mutual friend and their relationship are friends to lovers.

I'd like to know who makes the first move between Drew and Reader

love at first sight — DREW STARKEY

authors note i’ve never done headcanons before and always wanted to do one but didn’t know what topic to do so THANK YOU for the request lovie. please let me know if this is what you were looking for. it's my first time making one of these.

paring drew x actress!reader

➪ You two happened to be at the same party at one of your good mutual friends parties one night in LA.

➪ You were a well known actress from your popular tv series that's been going on for two years now and two movies you were in as well.

➪ Drew noticed you standing with a few of your friends, talking and laughing, from across the room and couldn't keep his gaze away from you the entire time.

➪ At the time, Drew was contemplating whether or not to approach you and introduce himself, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself.

➪ Instead of going up to you, he continued to stay with his friends and occasionally look in your direction. You felt eyes on you during that time but didn't know who.

➪ You noticed Drew and his friends as you walked back from the bathroom with a few of your girlfriends. You didn’t know who he was either.

➪ There was something in you urging you to turn around and start conversation with this mystery guy. A good feeling. Also couldn't get over the fact how good looking he is too.

➪ Your girlfriend whispered in your ear, "That's Drew Starkey, who plays Rafe Cameron in Outer Banks," she says.

➪ You remember glancing at her with a puzzled expression before inquiring who he was. She stared at you like you were living under a rock.

➪ You were amazed by his acting when she showed you a scene from the latest seasons of Outer Banks.

➪ "I'ma go talk to him!" You told your girlfriends right before you walked over to the handsome tall 6'3 foot man.

➪ Let's say you definitely caught him off guard when you approached him with a toothy smile, introducing yourself to him and cast mates from his tv show. He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him looking all beautiful.

➪ You making the first move is bold and it's very unlike you. Especially when you find someone cute.

➪ "I think you're really handsome, Drew," Gazing at the man in front of you.

➪ You two didn't stop talking once you started. The rest of the night was spent hip to hip. By the end of the night, you had discovered a lot about each other. He couldn't believe you'd never heard of him before, despite the fact that he knew about you.

➪ "We should go out sometime together, are you available next Friday for lunch?" Drew asked as people began to leave the party. Of course, you gave him your number and went to lunch.

➪ The more hung out, the more feelings began to grow for one another in ways you never expected. Never felt so comfortable with someone before until you met each other.

➪ Three months later, Drew asked you to be his girlfriend by taking you to a private beach with all of your favorite snacks and drinks laid out on a blanket and lights that said "Be My Girlfriend?" It was the most beautiful scene ever.

➪ Being together was meant to be. Supportive of each-other in your careers. Always baking your favorite desserts together with oldies in the background. Couldn’t be more happier.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @solanathascientst

#drew starkey #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey headcanons #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x you

[ellieslittlewh0re]

based on this request ♡

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒓𝒚 - ellie williams x fem reader

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 - degradation/praise, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, public sex/masturbation (?), oral (both reader and e! receiving) fingering (reader receiving) vibrator usage (reader), dom! ellie, sub! reader, name calling (baby, slut, whore)

From anyone else's perspective, it looked like a normal family dinner. Your parents practically begged to visit your and Ellie's home, claiming it was to get a house tour of the new place, but knowing them, it was truly just an excuse to see their baby girl.

Ellie looked as relaxed as ever, making light conversations with your dotting parents, occasionally looking down at her phone that rested on her knee below the table.

No, she wasn't checking her email or responding to a text message; she was adjusting the speed of the bullet vibrator that was lodged deep inside your cunt.

You didn't talk much- you couldn't, only occasionally mumbling a short "mhm" when your parents would ask you questions.

"How's the new job going, do you like your boss okay?"

"M-mhm." You nodded absently, poking around the food on your plate with a fork, pressing your lips hard together to stop the moans building in your throat.

"Did you install those cameras yet? I really don't want anything to happen to you when your home alone, honey." Your mother asked, a sincere worry in her tone, and you couldn't fucking respond, head ditzy from the tingling inside your tummy.

Ellie eyes you from the side, her tongue poking against the inside her cheek to hide back a satisfied grin.

She placed her hand on your upper thigh, squeezing the fat dangerously close to your cunt before turning up the intensity.

You cry out, your head dropping to rest on your forearm on the table, hand squeezing the side of your chair, and your nails digging into the wood.

"What's wrong, baby? Are you sick?" Your mother practically leaps over the table, worried about the state of her only daughter.

Ellie takes this time to answer for you, her hand coming up to stroke your hair.

"Are your cramps back, baby?" She asks, sounding so sweet and concerned.

It was all bull shit.

In your mothers eyes, Ellie was the perfect angel, the only one who she trusted to take care of and love her daughter they way you deserved.

And your father?

He loved Ellie. He loved having a daughter-in-law that would work on the car with him, help him build furniture and other dirty jobs.

Oh how well Ellie had them fooled.

They didn't know her like you did; they didn't know about the positions she'd put you in, fucking you so deep and rough that it left you bedridden for the next couple of days.

You felt the bubbling, tightening feeling building in your tummy, and you were close. Your legs started to quiver, your toes curling inside your white laced socks that were propped against the legs of your chair.

"E-excuse m-me." Your breath is shaky as you stand, using the table to brace yourself before retreating down the hall, closing yourself in the bathroom.

Back at the table, Ellie excuses herself to "go check on you."

What a sweetheart.

Your hands latch onto the sides of the sink, your head dropping low between your shoulders.

You interlock your ankles, squeezing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to ease your building orgasm when Ellie enters, shutting the door and positions herself behind you.

Her fingers dig into your hips as she grinds herself against your ass. Your back arches upon instinct, feeling her crotch against you.

She uses her fingers to rid the hair that covered your neck, leaving an opening for her lips to paint the maroon-ish splotches that she loved seeing so much. She just had to mark you, let everyone know that your hers, and you didn't want it any other way.

A whine finally escapes your lips as suckled the sensitive skin, purposefully grazing the area with her teeth.

"El-Ellie.." you whined in the pretty pitch that Ellie fucking went feral over, knowing only she could get you all needy like this.

Her hand rubbed down your back and over your ass, squeezing harshly. You whine some more, feeling your lips part as she tugs at the flesh, already coated in a sticky mixture that was starting to dripple down your legs.

"Fuck- I can hear how wet you are. You poor thing." Ellie mocked, getting off by her own choice of words as she sunk her teeth into your neck once again.

A gasp leaves your mouth, pressing your back to feel her on you in any way you could. She holds you tightly, her arms enclosing around your waist, and her hand caressing over your breast. She squeezes, and draws a whine from you when she tugs at your hardened peak through the thin fabric.

You moan her name, and grind your ass against her, not really caring how pathetic you look- you just needed her to touch you.

"Pleasepleaseplease.." you begged for her help, knowing she's the only one who can fuck you the way you wanted to be fucked. The vibrator inside you was not enough by itself, only ever slightly bumping against your sweet spot.

"What baby? You want to cum, huh? Is that it? You're such a slut.. begging for me to touch you." Ellie voice oozed arousal, breathy and hungry for a taste.

She had you just where she wanted you, shaking and dumb, like putty in her hands.

She turned you around and her lips met yours, she slowly kissed you, but occasionally backed away to watch you chase her lips. She'd give you so little, her lips barely grazing yours while you went completely feral, wanting- needing to taste her.

"elliee.." you cry her name, your eyebrows knitted together, and your eyes glassed over from the tears that threatened to spill.

Ellie smiled at you, a sinister smile that made your skin erupt into goosebumps; her hand came up to your jaw, holding it in place and smushing your cheeks together.

"Use your words, baby." She pressed herself against you, completely caging you between her and the sink.

You couldn't escape even if you wanted to.

"W-wanna cum, please.." A tear slipped past your lash line, trailing down your cheek, and Ellie finally decided to take pity on you; how could she not? You're so pretty when you cry.

A guttural growl emits from Ellie's throat, and her fingers come down to the waistband of your shorts, yanking them away along with your panties.

The cool air brushed against your slick coated cunt and thighs, making you yelp upon impact.

Ellie bites down on her bottom lip upon seeing your glistening cunt, seeing how wet you were for her- how fucking wrecked you were before she even touched you.

"Fuck... all for me?" She asked rhetorically, almost to herself as she slipped a finger between your folds, just watching how your slick coated them and how your thighs shook uncontrollably.

She was calm and collected, at least that's what she wanted to portray. On the inside she was burning, and holding herself back from tearing you apart.

You on the other hand? Not so much. You felt dizzy and lightheaded, using Ellie's stature and sink to keep your knees from giving out on you.

You look up at Ellie with desperation, a half-hooded and lazy gaze and a pout on your spit coated lips, slightly parted as little breaths escape them.

She closes the empty space between your two, this time- fully kissing you the way you've been begging for, rough and messy, as her tongue explores the spongy walls of your mouth.

She moans into the kiss, impatiently tugging up your shirt by the hem and cupping your breast with her calloused fingers.

She breaks the kiss, slightly panting, and you follow her eyes. They were dark and narrowed, almost threatening, as she lowered herself to her knees.

Your jaw hung open, her eyes never leaving yours as she placed her hands in your thighs, spreading you out further before flat-lining her tongue over your core.

You moan, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you mumble curses to yourself. Her warm tongue worked skillfully over your leaking cunt, lapping up your juices without shame.

Your place your hand on her head, tightening your fingers against her skull as she flicked her tongue over your clit.

You felt your orgasm building at a rapid pace, vibrating throughout your fingers down to your toes. Ellie chuckles into you, her finger slipping inside to push the vibrator further into your pussy. You take a sharpe inhale, feeling it grind and pulsate where you needed it to, her tongue relentlessly flicking your clit.

"Fuck.. fuck- ohmygod els, m' gonna cum." You say breathless, suppressing your cries to the best of your abilities.

"gonna cum all over my mouth, huh? You like having an audience? fuckin' slut-" she growled between licks, entranced and drunk on your taste, slick running down her chin and neck.

"Fuckfuckfuck-" and just that that, you come undone, clenching and tightening as you held her in place, grinding against her tongue.

She pulls away, wiping her mouth the the back of her hand before pulling out her phone. The vibrating inside you came to a stop, her fingers grabbing the hot pink cord and carefully pulling it out of you.

You were left breathless, panting as your body started to dull. She pulled your shorts up as she stood, her hand finding your neck and squeezed it as she kissed you, her tongue swirling around yours.

You moan into her open mouth as you tasted yourself, not noticing her hand unbuckling her jeans.

Your eyebrow slightly furrow in confusion as she pulls down her pants and boxers, letting them fall to her ankles. She barely gave you any time to comprehend, her hands pushing you down to your knees by your shoulders.

"You got me all worked up, baby. You gonna put that pretty mouth of yours to use?" She questions, but not in away that sounded like you had a choice- not that you would ever pass up such an opportunity.

You swallow your tongue as you became eye level with her cunt. You look up at here through your eyelashes, lips parted in arousal upon seeing how wet she was, and it was all because of you.

Ellie would never let herself show how needy she was, instead she'd shove your face into her pussy, holding you there until you couldn't breath. You didn't even have time to tease her- to place kisses to her bundle of nerves like you wanted to. You simply stuck out your tongue as she thrusted her hips on your face, fisting your hair to the point it stung.

She grunted as she worked harder and faster against your mouth, her eyebrows pinched tighter as the sensation built in her stomach, jaw clenching and relaxing as breathy moans part her lips.

Small whimpers vibrated in her cunt from your own mouth, being turned on by your girlfriend using you like a toy to get herself off.

Your hand snakes past your waistband and your panties. You moan into her as you rub tight circles around your clit, bouncing slightly against your fingers.

The sight of you by itself was bordering porno level, and to be honest, Ellie wished she had thought of that before because she'd definitely film it and rewatch it whenever you were away from her for too long.

"You're such a whore.. m-hmm- fuck.. can't ever get enough, can you?"

You shake your head no at her in a pout, denying her words that were definitely true, after all, she knew you best.

Her hand released on your scalp, coming back to brace against the sink as her hips sputtered. Her eyes squeeze shut and her head falls back, muttering curses and shameful words as she reached her peak.

You pull away from her cunt, and rest your forehead against her thigh, too fucking brain dead to focus on anything else besides your fingers on your clit.

Split pooled from the corner of your parted lips, heavy, hallow breaths tickled Ellie skin as you cum on your fingers.

You slowly lift yourself off the tiled floor, bruises surely to appear in the following days. Ellie pulls her pants up, and buckled her belt.

Her hands meet your face, cupping it gently as her thumb wipes away the spit and cum mixture that still lingered.

She leaned down to kiss you, pulling away so her lips hovered over your ear.

"I'll deal with your parents- wait for me in the bedroom."

#ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou smut #ellie tlou x reader #tlou2 ellie #ellie tlou fanfic #the last of us 2 fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie tlou #tlou smut #tlou x reader #tlou2 smut #tlou2 x reader #tlou2 fanfic #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

[mouvs]

Love, expired? - Joost Klein

(Angst & fluff based on bittersuite<- singer reader)

You and joost have always been close, from his youtube days to his crowded festivals, always doing the craziest things together. You were his rock and he was yours, always finding each other in your miseries, finding comfort in one another as you smoked cigarettes and watched the night pass.

Always by one another’s side, cheering each other on. Some would say you come as a set, a bundle of joy spreading where ever you guys came, always giggling by his side as he made you smile trough and trough. Always holding him close on those harder days as he found his way to you, listing to music as you played with the blondes locks as he rested on your lap.

It was on those memories that had your head spiralling, seeing him sleep so peacefully next to you, seeing those bright blue eyes disappear as he smiled at you, feeling his strong arms around your body in a warm embrace. All of it felt like a bliss of warmth, comfort and… love?

You cant lie, a part of you always knew you loved him. But you denied it and you would deny it until you couldn’t anymore. Hes busy, he doesn’t have time for all of that, he doesn’t have time for me, i cant make him happy you told yourself. It was all a joke to him.

You two had been trough so much. It wasn’t his fault you took his jokes a little too seriously right? The nights, you danced together, swaying your hips to the loud music beaming trough the speakers, his hands on your waist and yours occasionally going around his neck, locking eyes from time to time as you held each other close.

“You look so gorgeous i could kiss you” he had said. “I love you” he had said. Giggling as he held you against his chest. Hovering over you the entire night with his hands on you, sharing intimate moments as his lips brushed against your neck occasionally as you danced against his chest. Holding you on his lap as he chatted with friends, gently laying his hand on your thigh. He made you feel so special.

Like it was meant to be, finally.

Until she came around.

The usual group of friends had dragged everyone to a party the week after, inviting a bunch of other people around. Surely one had to take an interest in joost. Your joost. The sweet sweet boy that lid up ypur heart every time you saw him, the sweet boy that made your heart beat faster every time he opened his mouth.

And he shamelessly enjoyed it. Crushing your party mood in an instant as you saw them dance how he danced with you. And you wished that was the only time you had to see it.

But no, surely she became part of the group. Coming along on the smallest things you all did together. And part of you felt so stupid, why do i feel this way you thought. He is free to do what he wants. But this was yet another sign.. that you had fallen hard for him. The way your heart aches for him was surreal.

Part of you felt like you were over reacting. Why cant you let him be happy.

But why do i need him to be happy..

You grew more distant from joost over some time, there was no confirmation they were together but one night at a bar with your friends, hearing the conversation, questions they asked, hearing the girl joke slyly next to him about ‘all they share’ and seeing her around his arm just was to much. You thought it was better to get rid off these feelings, which was painfully slow. You had known each other for so long it felt like a piece of you was missing each day you didn’t talk to him.

And he felt it too. He missed you.

You stopped showing up at his concerts, stopped hanging out with him and your friends as much. Telling them you’ve been working on new songs. Which wasnt a lie, you were drowning yourself in work on purpose, as not to think, not to hear not even breath joost.

Seeing the pictures she shared clinging onto him only making you burry yourself even more.

He felt concerned, he knew you, he knew you all too well to be fooled by your facade. Making your phone explode with texts and calls, only receiving short replies from you or smiley faces.

“Hey the concert for my new album is tomorrow hope you guys can make it!” The message popped up on his phone as he chugged back the remains of the beer he was holding.

He sighed. Remembering the times you were on stage together, dancing together, singing and screaming just living your wildest dreams. “Why wont you talk to me” he thought to himself as he scrolled trough your pictures. Reviving all the memories you guys had together.

Biking to school together, spending hours in grass fields as you both drew or wrote, enjoying the warm summers, going to parties together, smoking together. Suddenly everything reminded him of you. It made him so confused, he had a crush on you for a while but he had settled it was never the right moment as you gotten out of a rough relationship.. but his feelings.. it never really went away.

He wanted to make you smile, make you feel safe, be your person.

He exhaled briefly before pressing the call button..

Hearing it ring more then three times made him anxious as he looked at the screen, his heart stopping for a second as the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” Your voice sounded. Your voice.. he missed your voice. He listened to your songs a lot but it was never the same as actually hearing you talk to him, just him.

“Hey- uhm yea i saw your text in the group i wanted to congratulate you” he smiled softly “i hope im still invited..” he mumbled

“Aw thank you thats really sweet and ofcourse you are joost don’t be silly” you spoke, feeling a little nervous as you heard his quiet odd tone.

“Yea.. okay” he nervously chuckled “but.. why havnt i seen you y/n..” he paused as he sighed “i miss you” it usually took him a lot of courage to open up like that, but the feelings of missing you mixed with alcohol made it slip his lips easier.

It was silent for a while, you didn’t know what to say as you heard him speak.

“I- im sorry joost.. uhm i promise ill make some time for you tomorrow depending how busy it is you know” you nervously laughed. But you only meant one thing. You wanted to only see him, and not with another girl around his arm.

“Thats all you seem to say lately but i don’t believe you y/n” he bites back.

“Wh- what?” You frown as you hear his tone shift on the other side.

“I know somethings up and your not telling me.. did i do something wrong why are you so distant from me all of a sudden?”

Tears prickled into your eyes as you listened, feeling guilty as if you tossed him away.

“I-“ you sniffled “im sorry i dont know okay” you cleared your throat as you tried to compose yourself.

“Y/n sweetheart you can talk to me.. i want you to talk to me please?.. i know we both have it rough sometimes but thats why we have each other.” His words sounded trough your head.

So comforting yet feeling like a knife trough your heart as you sighed. You cant let this continue longer, torturing yourself, leaving him confused. You were already separating yourself from him, might as well take the shot.

“You know just come tomorrow, i do want to talk to you thats not it joost.. you know its not” you mumbled the last part. “After the show we can meet up? Just the two of us?” You asked.

“I would love that y/n” joost said, a soft smile spreading across his face.

-

“You should really listen to the last song by the way”

He frowned at the text as he and your friends walked too the venue.

“Oh? Why?:)” he typed back,

“If i talk you’d listen right?”

He only got more confused as he read your message

“Ofcourse y/n”

You didn’t reply back as the group went to find a spot, waiting for your entry as they gather drinks.

As you walked on stage joost motioned to get closer as he dragged the group to the front. His eyes glued on you at every given moment, paying zero mind to everyone screaming your lyrics as he tuned it out to only listen to your voice.

Patiently analysing every song, it was painful how mysterious you could be sometimes yet your music unfolds you perfectly.

You laughed as the music ends slowly “thank you all for being here i love you all” you breath trough the mic as you made eye contact.

“Well one more?” You asked as everyone cheered on you chuckled “alright alright i got one more for you guys” you smiled briefly looking at joost as your smile fades a little softer.

Nerves spreading across your body as everything was so real all of a sudden. Normally it feels like a fever dream standing on stage. But this was a little more.. you wrote this song thinking about him.. your feelings for him.

Just like you he stood there nervously listening to the music playing, interested what the last song was about. Carefully listening to the lyrics.

I cant fall in love with you

Your voice sounding trough his head, he frowns a little as he listens, watching your every move, so tender, so elegant.

I see the way you want me i wanna be the one

Your hair falling perfectly over your shoulders as your voice sounds trough the mic, joost eyes on you as you briefly made eye contact, swiftly looking away as you sang the next lines.

But i gotta be careful gotta watch what i say

God i hope it all goes away

Cause i cant fall in love with you

Suddenly it hits him, all those moments, all those heartfelt memories. He was truly in love with you. But.. is he the one you cant fall in love with? His mind raced as he watched you in the dim orange stage lights.

“Fuck” he breathed out as he walked out of the crowd as he ran trough the people trying to reach the back stage, the music ended.

“Thank you all so much” your voice sounded trough the venue as you looked at the crowd, not finding joost in his previous spot. Well fuck. You thought as you nervously smiled, adrenaline rushing trough your veins from the performance you turn around as you went off stage.

Only to be met with those piercing blue eyes you were looking for.

“Y/n..” he said walking towards you “i love you” he blurred out, out of breath from running as he looked down at you.

You stood there for a second with a sheepish grin on your face, serotonin rushing trough you as you pressed your lips against his, his arms comfortingly wrapping around your waist, holding you up as you hold him close.

The smell of his cologne hit you as you feel whole again, his hand tangled into your hair as his lips feel soothingly cool against yours, sounds of him groaning into the kiss only making you smile more as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you too..” you give him a little peck “maybe a little to much”

“Don’t be silly you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to spit that out” he whined before chuckling as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“How silly are we hm” you giggled as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, only making him want more as his hand brushed over your cheek and his lips meet yours again in a heartbeat.

#joost klein #joostice #justice for joost #free joost #stand with joost #joost klein fanfic #joost #joost klein fans #joost klein x reader #joost klein x fem!reader #joost klein fluff #joost klein angst #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein x you #joost klein fic #joost x reader #joost klein eurovision #joost klein short story #joost klein one shot #eurovision

[lustkillers]

WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN, THE BEAST COMES OUT !

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - she only sees him in the night, and he's waiting for her.

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit. dom!euronymous, sub!reader. unprotected sex, cheating on readers behalf, corruption kink? degradation, praising, euro is jealous oh my god, he's possessive ladies!! name calling - "slut," "bitch," "whore," and "good girl" toward the end, scratching, THEY ARE FREAKSSSSS!!! ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - euronymous x fem!reader. ❪ not the actual euronymous, only rory’s portrayal. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ note - just listen to the song + first time writing smut LMAOOO

EURONYMOUS knew who you were. He wasn't playing into your games, let alone letting you slide with them. He saw you occasionally in his record store, with your boyfriend. He would watch you both from afar, your boyfriend's hands snaking around your waist as he went through records.

He burned with jealousy, wishing he was the one feeling those same hands, to have the chance to clasp onto something or someone so fervently. But he knew that his dreams of being with you were nothing more than a fools errand.

But he wasn't a fool, anyway. He was cold and calculating, possessive and controlling. And he had an intense fixation on you, the glares he gave leaving no doubt as to his feelings.

Every time you and your boyfriend checked out, you and him always shared glances, and it always ended with you winking at him before leaving. The type of wink only secrets held. You held onto Euronymous as a secret, your forbidden fruit.

He was nothing like your boyfriend. Euronymous was rambunctious and unpredictable. He was someone that brought your fantasies to life, the side of you that your boyfriend never discovered.

It was only a matter of time before he lured you in with his charm and you eventually succumbed to his advances. On the first night, it felt like an escape and before long, something more.

You knew deep down that it was wrong but something about forbidden love kept drawing you back again and again. Despite knowing the risks of being involved with someone like him, you found yourself meeting him at approximately 12 in the morning every. day.

Now, he was sat in his dark room, and the room only held dirty secrets between you and him. He was waiting, the clock striking midnight, and you knew it was once again time to carry out your secret romance. You slipped through his door, wearing clothing that you would never dare to show your boyfriend.

Euronymous stood from where he sat, his eyes only holding lust. Not saying anything, he pulled you closer and closer, his breath tickling your neck as he whispered promises of a love that you knew he didn't mean. His hands explored every inch of your body as he kissed you, and you knew that this is what it felt like to be truly alive - only Euronymous had such power over you.

You unconsciously grind up against him, needing him like oxygen. You knew, deep down that this was dangerous and risky but you didn't care anymore. Everything melted away again until it was only the two of you in the room together, safe from the world outside for a few brief moments.

The air felt thick, your head getting dizzy from the rough, yet passionate kiss. His hands traveled from your face to your waist, groping at it. You sighed at the touch, your hands wandering around his waist.

Euronymous now shoved you onto his bed, his body hovering above you. His hair was dangling above your face, yet you had a clear view of his flushed out face. Yet, everything felt so incoherent.

You could feel a sudden rush of adrenaline going through your body, yet you couldn't stop it. Euronymous eyes locked with yours as he slowly crackled a half smirk.

"You're such a slut, huh. Getting with me while your boyfriend is at home." He said in a low voice, his hands sliding under your pants. You shook your head slowly, not knowing what to do or how to react; you were too transfixed by his gaze. God– the pool of your arousal grew more.

His fingers found your clit, drawing slow and tantalising circles. You whimpered as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, and Euronymous knew it, too. He chuckled. He found it sort of pathetic how you were about to come undone from his fingers this fast.

Your back slightly arched from the pleasure, letting out whimpers into the atmosphere. Sooner or later, he shoved his fingers into you, and the pleasure was too much for you to keep eye contact with him, so you closed your eyes in pleasure.

Euronymous noticed this and cocked his eyebrow, He grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to look at him. Then, he leaned into your ear and whispered, "You like that? Then keep your eyes on me, whore."

You only nodded, but you couldn't help yourself but look away again. His hands stopped its motions, sending you an annoyed look.

"N-No...! M'sorry! Please keep going..." You muttered, your eyes shooting open again from the loss of contact.

Euronymous smirked and resumed his torture, but this time a bit more rough. You gasped in pleasure as he picked up the pace. His hot breath caressing your neck sent you into overdrive, and before you knew it...you were coming undone in front of him– screaming for more.

However, he didn't have enough. He suddenly pinned you against the bed, whispering in your ear, "You want more? You'll get it, bitch." He unbuttoned his pants frantically, his cock lined up against your cunt. As if on cue, you spread your legs for him and grabbed onto his back as he pushed in eagerly.

He stretched you out, the bliss filling you both. Your fingernails dug into his back, earning a hiss from his as he groaned into your ear. As he increased the pace, you could only moan and scream out his name in pleasure.

"E-Euro! Fuck, M'so close...!" You shouted, feeling the heat between you two.

"Yeah? He doesn't fuck you like I do, only I can make you feel like this... Don't forget that, bitch." He grunted, his words making you melt into his body.

His thrusts grew erratic, groaning expletives into your ear, while you moaned his name out like a god. Every touch, kiss and lick that he sent against your body sent you over the edge.

The feeling flooded you with pleasure, biting down on his shoulder as he finally thrusted into you. You came undone, but he wasn't done yet. He kept at it, with a heat that seemed like it could never be quenched. His thrusts increased in urgency, wild and feverish.

"F-Fuck! Take it like a good girl..." He yelled, cumming into you.

A shudder ran through his body as he came undone, and the heat between you two seemed to cool.

He let out a deep breath and pulled out of you, rolling onto the bed beside you.

However, you needed to get home, quickly cleaning yourself up. You got dressed and before you left, you pulled him in for a deep kiss, and as you attempted to leave, he grabbed your wrist.

"Leave him," he said in a low voice. Causing you to freeze.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, confusion written all over your face.

"You heard what I said." He said, his gaze unwavering. "Leave him. I don't want you with someone else."

You tilted your head at him, "And who are you to tell me that?"

He rolled his eyes and let go of your wrist. "I want you for myself," he said, his voice low and husky. "And I know you want me as much as I want you."

You bit the inside of your cheek. He was right. You did want him. But, how could you possibly leave someone for someone else? You had come into this arrangement aware that it was only every night and nothing more.

You smiled, tilting your head at him. "I can't simply leave him," you said softly. "But, I still want to be with you."

He nodded and pulled you into his arms again, holding you close as he kissed the top of your head. "Then stay here," he whispered in your ear.

You stepped away from him and peered into his eyes, a warmth sweeping over your body. You couldn't help but feel the chemistry between you two, and it was too strong to ignore.

You stepped closer to him again and nodded, your voice a whisper as you spoke.

"Don't make me regret it, Euro."

#rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #lords of chaos #smut #rory culkin x y/n #euronymous #euronymous smut #euronymous x reader #rory culkin smut #rory culkin lords of chaos

[crguang]

lost virgins with broken wings that will regrow

You’re an ordinary person with a void in your chest. Black Swan means to fill it.

smut, afab!reader, virgin!reader, sorta stalker!black swan (im just going with canon here…) so mention of voyeurism, oral sex on both parts, fingering, overstimulation, switch!r and swan, 9.3k words and 6k of it is just smut……………

A/N: um…… i just think she’s neat.

black swan: they are such a loser, weirdo, freak, social outcast i have GOT to fuck them

It’s under low, pulsing lights and seated between intoxicated bodies, sensual music in your ears and a half-empty drink in hand, that you feel the most alone. The irony burns your throat not unlike the alcohol you’re sluggishly sipping every five minutes as you take in the sea of strangers on the dance floor of the club rhythmically moving with the beat on the speakers.

Beside you at the bar, a couple converses lowly to themselves, staring into each other’s eyes and laughing quietly like there doesn’t exist a world beyond their intimacy. To your right, friends argue over who will be the designated driver tonight and draw from actual straws provided by one of the bartenders. The unlucky one pouts and the rest cheer before enthusiastically ordering colorful cocktails from a pink haired bartender. The bass reverberates through you, inciting you to join the sweaty bodies losing themselves in the music, but the throb of your head is louder. You feel fatigue at the corner of your eyes while you swirl the clear liquid in your glass and watch its hypnotizing movement, briefly lost in it. You tune out the drunk laughter and shameless flirting happening around you and feel the familiar sensation of your heart constricting in your chest. No one is interested in your sulking, people come and go in the seats beside you, oblivious to your inner struggle. When the feeling spreads to your lungs, forcing you to breathe in the smell of alcohol and sweat, you turn on the stool to search for your friend in the crowd. You catch a glimpse of her red hair as she sways against a tall woman with dark coily hair; she seems to be having fun, occasionally giggling when the woman bends to whisper in her ear, so you sigh and rest an arm on the bar. It was an unspoken rule that if you went clubbing together, you would either leave together or make sure the other would be sober enough to walk out the door with a stranger. You’ll give her another half hour, maybe, before ruining her night by telling her you want to go home.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself,” a smooth, sultry voice sounds near you.

You smell her before you see her; strong traces of resins and dried fruit, like incense sticks burning through the air, easily overwhelm the different odors assaulting your nose from the variety of people around. The pleasant fragrance makes you pivot in your seat. A woman sits on the stool to your left and drums her gloved fingers on the counter thoughtfully, keen gaze already on you and a small, easy smile on her lips. They look bare in the low lighting, though you can discern a soft sheen on them that suggests she must have applied lipgloss not too long ago. Her thick, pale hair frames her cheeks and disappears down her back in two wavy parts that would undoubtedly reach the back of her thighs were she to stand upright. The purple veil over her head matches the color of her dress— you think it’s a dress, maybe a tight strapless top?— and the sort of stained glass accessory between her collarbones that connects her top to the lacy piece around her neck. Your first thought is that she looks out of place amongst the flimsy, provocative clothing everyone is flaunting. Your second is that she’s gorgeous, the kind you can’t help but stare at like a fool. Which you are currently doing. Her head tilts in question and you blink, remembering the words she’s spoken to you a moment earlier.

You suddenly feel shy under her gaze as you try to come up with a reply.

“I’m not,” you say, mentally cringing at your lack of tact. Your honesty seems to amuse her though, sunset eyes glimmering with mirth.

“Not your kind of scene, I presume?” She has to lean closer for you to hear each other over the music and you meet her halfway.

You shrug dismissively, not wanting to admit that being surrounded by people only made you feel terribly lonely. It would ruin the conversation, you’re not that socially inept for you to know that. “Not really, no. The drinks are nice, though.”

You can barely hear her hum as she replies, “And yet, here you are. What makes you suffer through such an unpleasant experience?”

You find her way of speaking a little odd. Evidently, she’s not from around here. You turn around to face the dance floor and her eyes follow the direction you point your chin towards.

“I’m here with her,” you gesture to the redhead cheekily grinding against the same woman from before. The sight is a little funny, despite your mood you’re glad that she’s enjoying herself.

“I see. A friend of yours?”

You nod and steal a glance at the woman beside you. Her posture is impeccably straight, chin resting in the palm of her hand while she leans an elbow on the counter, and she looks at you with a sense of familiarity that you can’t reciprocate. You’ve never met her before, you would have remembered. You’re not the type to be embarrassed by every little thing but her attentive stare makes you feel exposed, as if you’re standing in front of her with your flesh turned inside out and she could see the gross parts of you usually hidden from sight. You want to evade her gaze, if only to compose yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to. She pulls you in effortlessly with only a look and you lean towards her when she speaks up again.

“I realize I haven’t asked for your name.”

You tell her your name, having to speak a little louder to be heard over the music. She repeats it, trying the feel of it on her tongue, then her eyelids lower in appreciation, a knowing smile on her face.

You ask for hers in return and she offers a gentle hand after answering you. “I am Black Swan.”

Black Swan. An odd name, like her odd behavior and turns of phrases. She stands out like a sore thumb and doesn’t seem to care enough to try to blend in. Her politeness is endearing, so you grasp her hand to shake it half-jokingly. Her fingertips linger on your skin when you slowly pull away.

“What about you? Are you here alone?” You don’t see anyone else acknowledging her presence around you. Black Swan confirms your suspicions with a nod. “Ah. A party girl, then.”

Her quiet laugh is beautiful, low and velvety. It makes you suppress a smile. The music blasting through the speakers is now much more energetic and worsens your headache.

“What makes you say that?”

You shrug. “You don’t seem from here but you also look totally at ease. I thought maybe you were either the sort to adapt quickly or to love this kind of scene.”

Black Swan hums, a forefinger tracing shapes on the surface of the bar. “I suppose that assumption is not entirely incorrect. I am not a local, no.”

“Where are you from?”

“That is… a complicated question to answer.”

You raise a curious eyebrow and she pushes some hair out of her face with a hand before leaning into you, closer to your ear. You pause as her soothing scent fills your nose and you feel her breath on your cheek, words meant only for you.

“Let’s talk somewhere quieter, if you wish. We can continue our conversation without having to yell to be heard.”

You consider her offer, hesitant. Your stomach tightens at her proximity and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep talking to her. Her subtle charms lure you in and lower your defenses, and that is both refreshing and concerning. Black Swan feels like the kind of person you only meet once, you want to make the most of it. Not to mention that it would be stupid to deny how attractive she is. You look back at your friend in the middle of the dance floor, suddenly envious of how easy it is for her to be comfortable among the crowd. She hasn’t spared you a glance since she was approached by her dancing partner and while that doesn’t really bother you, part of you wants to prove that you’re also able to make immediate connections with strangers, that you’re not an antisocial freak who only keeps to themself.

“Okay,” you accept and look away at the pleased glint that shines in Black Swan’s eyes. “I have to warn my friend, it’ll take a second.”

You stand from the bar stool and clumsily make your way to the middle of the room, narrowly avoiding sweating limbs and their intoxicated owners. You hate the way anxiety buzzes uncomfortably in your guts as you’re closely surrounded by so many people. You make it to where your friend is, breathing heavier from the stress, and tap her shoulder to get her attention. She wears a grin as she sees you and jumps a couple times in excitement, grabbing your shoulders.

“You wanna dance?!”

“I’m leaving with someone,” you say loudly, pointing to the bar. Her eyes squint, looking in the same direction. She stands on her tiptoes to see over the heads of some clubgoers but doesn’t seem to find who you’re referring to. “Are you gonna be okay?”

She looks back at you and smiles with a quick nod. You don’t think she’s drunk, maybe just a little tipsy, because her eyes are clear and she hasn’t pulled you into an intricate dance only she knows the steps to yet.

“Have fun! Don’t worry about me! Go get laid!”

You make a face, embarrassed by the idea. She only laughs loudly and turns back to the woman she’s been with all night. You make your way back to the bar as fast as you can, eager to be away from the crowd and deafening music. Black Swan waits for you near the end of the counter and gently takes your hand in hers when you get close enough. Her gloved fingers delicately curl around your hand, an unexpectedly comforting sensation. She expertly navigates through the sea of bodies, tugging you along with a firm hand until you’re both out of the club and standing under the moonlight.

From outside, the music has dulled to a faint pulsing and you feel like you can finally breathe properly. You briefly close your eyes to take in a slow breath, inhaling the crisp summer breeze and exhaling softly through your nose. Black Swan is still holding your hand as you do, she turns to face you and observes the way your shoulders relax a little more with each calming breath. Your eyes blink open. You feel a bit sheepish under her stare but her small smile assures you that she doesn’t think any ill of you. Your hand slips from her gasp so you can wring them together.

“Do you want to walk as we talk? My place isn’t too far from here,” you realize how that sounds and falter, glancing away. “Not that we have to go.”

“I would enjoy that. Lead the way.”

You scratch your temple awkwardly. There’s a silent pause as you start to walk through the empty streets and closed businesses, almost close enough that your fingers brush with every step. You take your time, your pace measured to bask in the night air and the way the light winds blow Black Swan’s perfume towards your face. The quiet is a reprieve for your throbbing skull, you feel your headache shift to a dull pulse with every passing minute. You look up at the round moon in the sky, then remember your question from earlier, the one she had trouble answering. You start to cross a wooden bridge over a wide canal and clear your throat.

“You didn’t tell me where you were from, earlier,” you say, slowing down slightly to look at the moonlight reflecting off the still water.

“Ah, that’s right.” Black Swan trails her fingers over the railing before coming to a halt. She follows your gaze on the water and leans her forearms on the railing, seemingly lost in thought. You turn the other way, your back against the wooden bars, waiting for her to sift through her thoughts. Finally, her head turns to look at you and she asks, “Are you familiar with Memokeepers?”

You take a second to remember where you’ve heard that word before. “Memokeepers… from the Garden of Recollection, right? Beings who preserve humanity’s memories for the Remembrance.”

“Yes.” She doesn’t add anything else, only rests her cheek in the palm of her hand and gazes at you like she’s able to see past all your barriers and it only fuels her interest in you.

“…Are you saying you’re…?

“I am.”

“Oh,” you ponder the admission for a short moment. That explains why she stands out from the crowd. You think you remember that Memokeepers choose who to be seen by; you must have looked like a crazy person if no one else could see her at the bar. “I don’t think I have any memories worth preserving to attract the attention of a Memokeeper.”

“Mmm… We seek to protect humanity against the irreversibility of time. I, for one, believe there is nothing more human than loneliness, wouldn’t you agree?”

The smile that stretches her lips is a soft one, far gentler than you think you deserve. You look away from her to observe the discoloration of the wood beneath your feet. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised she knows about that considering what she is, but you feel slightly irked at the idea of somebody intruding on your mind without your knowledge or consent. Your thoughts and experiences are yours to keep, no matter what any Aeon may believe.

“I don’t appreciate you looking inside my head.”

Black Swan shakes her head. “I haven’t. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You’re just that astute, huh?”

“Or you don’t hide it as well as you think you do.”

You hum. You can feel the warmth of her stare against your face and when you meet her eyes, you feel small. It’s hard to imagine all the things she has witnessed and lived through, you are nothing compared to her time among mortals. You don’t understand why she’s here with you, who is painfully ordinary and inexperienced in most matters of life.

“I still don’t think I have anything unique to offer to the Remembrance. You’re wasting your time.”

“Collecting every aspect of life includes the mundane, not every memory worth preserving is extraordinary. Besides, I don’t believe you to be ordinary.”

“That’s a bold, but misguided, assumption.”

Black Swan chuckles lowly, straightening up to face you better. She stands slightly shorter than you, even with her heeled boots. A step brings her closer to your body, a hand loosely holding onto the railing.

“I have plenty of those,” she drawls, a little quieter, “and I don’t need to look into your memories to know that they are true.”

“You got all of this from one conversation? I doubt it.”

“Then let me presume something else.”

Your breath hitches as her fingers delicately cup your jaw like it could break under her touch. You’re unable to tear your gaze from hers and you want to shrink faced with the bright sunset colors of her eyes, there’s a knowing sheen in their depths that makes you feel vulnerable in a way you refuse to be with anyone. Her thumb moves across your skin, the gesture almost tender.

“There is an ache in you,” she says, eyelids lowering to watch the movement of her thumb near the corner of your mouth, “a profound desire that creates an immeasurable crater inside of you. You feel that this void makes you fundamentally different from your peers, so you hide behind tall walls and attempt to ignore the cries of your heart.”

Your lips part but the words get stuck in your throat. Black Swan’s smile is without malice and you feel emotion swirl in your gut, tightening the muscles and quickening your breath. A chill passes through you, raising the hair on your arms, and you don’t know if it’s from the temperature or her hold on your jaw. The smooth fabric of her glove rubs against your skin in soothing motions, the smell of incense fills your nose from her proximity, you feel bare in front of her, exposed to her judgment— it’s all too much. You take several steps back to catch your breath and she lets you go somewhat reluctantly, observing your struggle as another breath of wind makes you shiver. The temperature has dropped since you left the nightclub; though you know nights can get chilly, you thought you would be going home in your friend’s car, the same way you got there, and wouldn’t need to bring a jacket.

You rub your arms, hesitantly glancing at Black Swan. “What do you want from me?”

“Let’s get you home, shall we?” She kindly replies instead, extending a hand. “You’re freezing.”

You look at her outstretched palm with slight suspicion. She hasn’t done anything to make you believe that she’s ill-intentioned, quite the opposite, but you’re used to being careful around others. Still, she isn’t wrong. There is a gaping hole in the middle of you and it makes you incapable of letting anyone past the walls you’ve built for yourself, afraid that it would consume whoever ventured too close. You long for something you can’t bear to think about anymore, but Black Swan is… different. Somehow, she sees you for everything you are, and while that thought is uncomfortable at first, it soon develops into something deeper, desperate. You don’t know how it feels to be known. Black Swan materializes behind your defenses and gazes at you with genuine interest. Against your own practiced sense of self-preservation, you let her.

Her hand is warm as you lead the rest of the way to your apartment. A shiver runs through you occasionally and her free hand trails up your arm after each one to warm you. You try to ignore the pulsing of your heartbeat in your ears and the yearning in your gut growing with every casual touch on your skin. You don’t speak much while you walk. It doesn’t take too long to reach your apartment, maybe around twenty minutes or so. You fiddle with the keys when you stand on the doorstep of the building. The door opens with a soft click and you keep it ajar with one hand, turning to face Black Swan.

“Do you want to…”

“Yes.”

She enters the building after you, following you up the stairs to the first floor where you live. Her presence makes you a little anxious since not many people have been inside your living space and you thank the Aeons that you’re a fairly clean person before opening the door and stepping inside. There’s a gust of wind as you walk in and you realize you must have left a window open because the place is colder than usual. You discard your shoes near the entrance to slip into indoor slides, toss your keys into the bowl on the small table and scratch your temple, wondering what you’re meant to do next. You don’t play host often, so for a moment you simply stand in your living room as Black Swan looks around, trailing her fingers on framed pictures and leather chairs. You suddenly feel self-conscious about your taste in interior design but she only looks at you with a smile once she’s seen everything she needs to see.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I have wine.”

Black Swan shakes her head. “I don’t feel thirst— not that kind anyway. You’re sweet to offer.”

You don’t ask her what she means by that, thinking it might be Memokeeper related.

“You should change into something more comfortable,” she adds. “I can see you shuddering.”

It’s not a bad idea. You nod, adjusting the room’s thermostat to a higher temperature and feeling her eyes on you all the while before disappearing into a hallway. Your bedroom is warmer than the rest of the apartment. You let out a breath as you rummage through your drawers for casual clothes, hesitating between sweat shorts and sweatpants. You’re already warming up a little, so you pick the former. You change into a t-shirt and step in front of the mirror to check that you don’t look as tired as you feel. You rub the fatigue out of your eyes then pinch your skin to make you seem more awake. You fiddle with your hair a little until it looks good enough. Thinking of Black Swan in your living room causes your stomach to flutter uncharacteristically. It’s a different kind of nervousness from the one you’re familiar with, anticipation lingers in your belly and you don’t even know what it’s for.

There’s a soft knock at your door that has you pivoting towards the sound in surprise.

“Come in.”

The hinges creak as it opens and Black Swan slips her head through the opening, eyes briefly running down your figure.

“Is everything alright?” You ask.

“Of course. I wanted to check in on you.”

“Oh.”

Her attention catches you off guard still. She walks further into the room, taking note of the various tapestries and images on your bedroom walls, and you sit on the bed as you watch her. Her hands trail on the desk of your vanity, on your low dresser’s wooden surface, around the bottles of perfume you keep on it. She seems entirely at ease in your room like it was her own, her composure not faltering for a moment. Her eyes stop on a polaroid of you and the same redhead you went out with tonight that is stuck to the full length mirror on the door of your closet. She observes it for a while, a finger tracing the picture’s edges.

“When was this?” She addresses you without turning around, immersed in the sight of you doubled over with laughter while your friend stands to the side with icing all over her face, a pout on her lips. A fingertip touches your frozen form. You think maybe she can sense the emotions through the captured memory.

“About two years ago, when we were still rooming together. We used to prank each other when the other least expected it.”

“You seem… lighter, less burdened than you are now.”

She’s right, once again. It feels as though there’s nothing you can keep hidden from her, like she’s already learned you from the inside. She said she hasn’t been inside your mind but you’re not sure if you’re inclined to believe her words. How else can she accurately perceive who you are? Something takes over the uneasiness you would normally feel at being so acutely exposed to another’s gaze, something you recognize and have desperately been trying to ignore for years. The profound yearning for closeness; for fingertips in your hair, for low confessions into the night, for a synergy that can only exist between two beings completely attuned to each other— it swallows you whole and leaves you writhing in its belly. Your fingers sink into the sheets as they curl to grab a fistful of them. You look away from Black Swan to stare at a point on the other side of the room, willing your treacherous heart to be steady.

You don’t notice Black Swan watching you until she steps into your peripheral vision. She walks around your bed, heels muted on the carpet, and takes a seat beside you. Her fingertips brush your fist as her head tilts, sunset eyes dimmed. You just now realize that she doesn’t have any pupils.

“Poor thing,” her voice lowers to a sultry tone, a hand tenderly resting on your cheek, “you’re scared, aren’t you? These emotions inside of you, itching to leave the confines of your heart…” She watches your lips part when you exhale softly through your mouth. Her fingertips trace your jawline before tilting your chin up. “I can sate this hunger, if you wish.”

You swallow, staring into her appreciative gaze. “Why?”

“Why?” She repeats almost to herself. Her thumb slides up your chin to your bottom lip and follows its curve. “I’m afraid that eludes me. There is something unattainable about you, a part of you that is locked away, perhaps. I feel… inexplicably drawn to it.”

Black Swan slowly leans closer as if gaging your reaction and giving you time to react should you want to push her away. You can almost feel her breath on your lips, then she pauses to look up into your eyes, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. She seems to find what she’s looking for and when you think she’s going to kiss you, a persistent fluttering in your lower belly, her head dips to the side and her lips press against the skin of your neck. You tense as her fingers brush your curled ones on the bed, moving over your knuckles to your wrist, then up your forearm in a deliberately gentle touch. You feel her open mouth trail down your neck. Her hand leaves your face to settle on your bare knee. You let out a shuddering breath, frozen in place.

“Your pulse is racing,” she murmurs into your skin, pressing a firm kiss to your pulse point, “I can feel it.”

“What… are you doing?”

“Enjoying you.”

The hand on your knee slides higher, fingertips brushing the fabric of your shorts on your thigh. The other coaxes your muscles to relax with soft touches up and down your arm. You feel overwhelmed by her closeness and you’re unable to do anything but breathe out at the sensation of her slow kisses up your neck and to your jaw. A shiver runs down your spine and she hums in delight. The tip of her tongue tentatively darts out to lick a stripe up your jawline to your ear, causing you to inhale sharply through your mouth and drawing an amused chuckle out of her.

Black Swan pulls away slightly to take in your facial features as her hands sneak under your shirt to hold onto your waist, squeezing once. Your lashes flutter with every blink, the rise and fall of your chest quickening under her seductive touch.

“How adorable,” she mutters with a lustful sunrise in her eyes. Her hands travel over the expanse of your stomach, one of them separating from the other to trail up your back. She rubs the skin over your ribs. “I’ve barely touched you and here you are… so breathless for me.”

A meek sound escapes you at her forwardness and an appreciative gleam brightens her gaze. With her insisting hands on you and her scent all around, you feel entirely at her mercy. When she leans closer for her teeth to graze your neck, your head tilts to allow her better access. Her thumbs rub circles on your waist, enjoying its pliable curves. Your hand sinks into her long hair, messily tangling around the soft locks, and you bite your bottom lip at the low hum that follows. Black Swan finds a sensitive spot on your neck, sucks on the tender skin and your fingers grip her hair tighter at the pleasant sensation of her mouth on you. You relax against her like butter left in the sun. You can’t help the sharp exhales that leave you and with each one, her fingers dig into your sides almost possessively.

Her tongue swipes over the bruising spot at the base of your neck, soothing the dull pain caused by her teeth and earning a quiet, breathy noise from you. Black Swan smiles into your skin.

“So responsive, aren’t you?” Her voice is a sultry purr. Her touches grow bolder, lifting your shirt to pull it above your head in one smooth motion. She discards it somewhere on the bed and leans to gently bite down on your shoulder.

“Oh!”

Her palms roam over your torso, nails brushing the band of your bra. You fleetingly wish she would take off her long gloves so that you could feel her without any barriers and she seems to be thinking the same; a moment later she takes her hands from you to pull the garment off her forearms. You don’t see where they end up, nor do you care, because the feeling of her soft, unscarred palms sliding over the plane of your stomach steals your breath away. They reach your chest, squeezing your breasts over your bra as her wet kisses travel to your collarbones. Her fingertips slip under your bra, grazing your hardening nipples, and something resembling a quiet whimper escapes you.

“I wonder… How long has it been since you’ve been touched like this, mm?”

“I’ve never…”

Her lips pause near your throat. You feel her breath on your skin with every exhale.

“Is that right?”

You nod hesitantly, apprehending her response.

Black Swan pulls her mouth away from you, fingers expertly unclasping your bra to get it out of the way, and firmly pushes you further into the bed. Her gaze is hungry as she straddles your thighs and looms over you, a palm over your breast.

“No one has ever held you so close… had their hands on you like this?…”

“No.”

A possessive glint flashes in her eyes. She squeezes the flesh of your breast, the friction of your nipple brushing deliciously against her palm has you gasping out at the same time Black Swan eagerly claims your mouth. Her tongue pushes past your lips to swirl around yours and she readily swallows the soft moan you let out. You hold onto her hips while she presses breathy kiss after breathy kiss on your lips. You feel a mix of her saliva and yours at the corner of your mouth and her tongue licks it off before meeting your own once more, leaving you breathless. Two fingers pinch your erect nipple, coaxing more needy sounds from you and a low, appreciative moan on her part.

Her thumbs roll your nipples in tight circles, occasionally twisting this way and that to draw a whimper out of you, and she reluctantly separates from your lips to allow you to catch your breath. Her own chest heaves as she looks down at you, at your bruised lips and hard nipples under the pads of her fingers, arousal pooling in her belly. She is the only one privy to the sharp gasps you make, to your soft moans and quiet whimpers. Black Swan fills the void inside of you with her lustful and unrelenting touches, claiming you with her hot mouth and nimble hands. She leaves an imprint on your body with every kiss to your skin, every graze of her teeth or nails across your chest. You feel your arousal ruin your underwear, clit aching to be touched. You bring Black Swan’s mouth to yours with a hand around her neck, lips locking in desperate, messy kisses. Her hums of pleasure only turn you on more and you have to squeeze your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure between your legs.

A thin string of saliva connects your lips as she pulls away to press the flat of her tongue over your nipple. The tip teases your sensitive bud before she takes it into her mouth and sucks, hard and fast. She fondles the other breast, twisting your nipple between two warm fingers, and you can’t help a choked moan at the feeling. Pleasure courses through you in short, intense jolts down your spine, and your cunt throbs in your panties, begging for her attention.

“B-Black Swan,” you breathe out, biting your lip when she hums in satisfaction around your nipple. Her teeth graze the bud teasingly but she doesn’t bite, instead she opts for long suckles and the occasional flicks of her tongue. “Please…”

Her mouth leaves your chest and stretches into a smug smile, desire apparent in the way she gazes at the faint marks she’s left on your skin.

“What are you pleading for, darling?”

You forego timidity to focus on the burning need in your belly. Your fingers curl around her wrist and guide her hand down your stomach, over the band of your shorts. Her eyes narrow though the smile doesn’t leave her face as she lets you slip her fingers into your shorts. Her middle finger sinks between your outer lips over your panties and feels your slick through the thin fabric. You hold onto her wrist to keep her hand over your covered sex, sighing in relief.

“How rude of me,” she says lightly, finger running up and down your slit, “to neglect you like this. I was caught up in my own desire, it seems.”

Black Swan settles between your thighs. Her lips leisurely trail wet kisses down the curve of your stomach and her pussy flutters in response to the whimper that comes out of your mouth. She’s so wet already and all she’s done is kiss you. Her gaze is intense as she looks up at your brows furrowed in anticipation of her tongue on your cunt. How stunningly helpless you look under her ministrations. So sensitive, so responsive… she wants to ruin you, devour you until your thighs tremble pressed to her ears and your throat is sore from crying out her name. It sounds beautiful in your voice, even more so with unashamed desire lacing your words.

Black Swan discards your shorts without ceremony, tossing them on the floor next to the bed. Her tongue swipes over her lips at the sight of your wet panties. Her fingertips trace the edge of the material, hooking under it to watch the sticky string that connects it to your cunt as she pulls it away from you. Part of her wants to take her time ravishing you, she’s waiting this long, after all, but she also desperately wants to indulge her desires. How can she resist when you’re panting under her this way, a hand around your own breast and gazing down at her figure between your thighs?

Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs, lost in the sight of your glistening cunt. Arousal slides down your pussy in slow drops, the tip of your pretty, aching clit poking out from between your lips. She almost wants to curse.

“You have no idea how long I’ve craved to have you bare before me like this,” she purrs, two fingers spreading your lips to fully appreciate your cunt, “how much I’ve wanted you.”

You exhale shakily, brows twisting for a second. “We just met…”

“Officially, perhaps.” Black Swan presses a kiss on your wet folds, tongue licking a stripe up your slit and collecting your slick. You moan, eyes squeezing shut. The taste of you makes her greedy and she has to contain herself not to lick you silly. “I’ve had my eye on you for quite a while…”

Your brain barely registers the words. Your thighs threaten to close in around her head with every flick of her tongue against your needy cunt. You pinch a nipple between your fingers as Black Swan places wet, open-mouthed kisses on your pussy and you almost forget to reply to her statement.

“What— What do you mean?” You ask breathily, hips jerking forward further into her mouth.

She laughs softly at your confused tone. Her fingers keep your lips spread wide to allow the flat of her tongue to collect more of your arousal. She feels your thighs on her ears and makes no move to stop you from squeezing them together.

“What do you think? Memokeepers are rarely eager to show themselves, and this pull I feel towards you… I had to understand it.”

You don’t know what to say. She’s admitting to stalking you while in between your thighs, tongue greedily swirling around your slick folds. She feels so good that you can’t focus on anything but the way she spreads her saliva on your pussy and swallows your arousal. You vaguely recall that this is the thirst she meant earlier, this bottomless need for more of your taste coating her lips and chin as the tip of her nose bumps against your throbbing clit.

You have trouble forming full sentences in your mind when she sucks your folds into her mouth and you don’t even care about the invasion of your privacy.

“You…” A finger teases your entrance and you whine, momentarily forgetting what you meant to say. “You’ve been following me.”

“Mmm…” Black Swan tentatively pushes the tip of her index finger into your cunt and swallows a moan as it effortlessly sinks inside you. “I needed to know who you were, what makes you tick, your unspoken desires. And after observing you for so long, committing your every heavy sigh to my memory, I could not resist meeting you myself— to touch you with my own hands and hear my name fall from your lips the way curses escape you on the brink of pleasure.”

You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle a moan, the tip of her finger brushing against a sensitive spot inside you. Her pace is steady, careful not to overwhelm you too fast or too soon, and it takes you two full minutes to understand what she’s implying. She takes your clit between her lips and sucks, long and hard.

“F-Fuck,” you whine, hips jerking forward in need. You feel your orgasm build in your lower belly and grip a fistful of the sheets under you, grinding your pussy against Black Swan’s experienced tongue. “You’ve— You’ve watched me… watched me touch myself?”

A throaty chuckle leaves her like she’s amused by how hard you’re trying to follow her sentences. She pulls away from your puffy clit for only a moment, looking up at you with unbridled desire. She drinks in the quiver of your bottom lip and the creases around your eyes, your parted lips and your hand palming the flesh of your breast. You are as beautiful under her as she imagined you to be when she would take a look around your empty bedroom, piecing together the puzzle of you with the help of your possessions.

Black Swan quickens the thrusts inside you, feeling her own cunt clench inside her shorts at the sensation of your warm walls around her digit. “How could I not? The way you fall apart under your own hands… your quiet moans as you play with yourself, oh…”

She moans into your cunt and you feel yourself gush into her mouth at the thought of her gaze on you all this time, watching you pleasure yourself and having to restrain herself from touching you, quietly suffering while she ruins her underwear. You wish you could have seen her and you wonder if she squeezed her thighs together as you played with your clit or sucked in a breath as you thumbed your nipple. She’s usually so composed, to think that your bare body can bring her to the edge of her self-control makes you so wet you’re sure you’re ruining your sheets.

“I can be a very patient person. I’ve had to restrain myself all this time, to be content simply watching you.” Black Swan circles your clit with her thumb, applying pressure on the tip as her slender finger drills into you the same way you do it when you touch yourself. The pleasure is too much and has you moaning into your forearm, uselessly trying to contain the noise due to living in an apartment building. “And… I think I deserve a reward for my patience, don’t you agree, darling?”

There’s a tightness in your stomach begging to snap; the pad of her thumb presses against your clit and the jolts of pleasure that course from your cunt to the rest of your body is heavenly, you’ve never felt more desired than with Black Swan’s uneven breaths fanning over your pussy, tongue darting out to taste you in soft, sweet kitten licks. You can’t control the tremble in your thighs and the stutter of your chest, or the hand that tangles into her pale hair to pull her closer to where you ache for her. Broken, high moans fill the room along with the wet sounds of her digit inside of you and her lips around your clit. You can’t think of anything but the pleasure that suddenly crashes over you and makes you shiver. You come hard around her finger and on her tongue, thighs squeezing against her ears and fingers tightly gripping her hair, and Black Swan laps up your cum with a rumbling hum of satisfaction. She helps you ride your orgasm by slowly massaging your walls, but her mouth doesn’t leave your cunt even as your high subsides. She licks long stripes up your slit, teases the base of your sensitive clit, then attaches her lips to your gushing entrance.

“S-Swan…” you manage to utter, back arching.

Black Swan inhales sharply at the soft sigh of her name. Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs and spread them wide, keeping them pinned to the mattress. Her colorful eyes have dulled, the shine of your cum on her lips alike the lipgloss she’d applied earlier tonight. Her gaze is hungry and smug at having you shake for her, at being the first to make you come, to hear the mewls spilling from your open mouth. The thin layer of sweat on your skin gives it an intoxicating glow and she can’t resist dragging two fingers between your folds to watch your slick envelop her digits.

“You are a vision,” she drawls, unhurriedly rubbing your sensitive cunt. “Beautiful and so, so responsive to my touch…”

The pad of her thumb presses against your twitching clit and your hips jerk as you whimper, helpless under her. Black Swan hums appreciatively and gives you some reprieve, hovering over you to plant a tender kiss to your jaw. Your fingers grip the back of her neck to pull her body closer and the friction of your hard nipples on the fabric of her clothes makes you exhale audibly. She uses sticky fingers to tilt your chin upwards. Your lips part almost instantly to welcome her hot, wet mouth. It’s a softer kiss than the urgent ones from before, her lips slowly slide against yours and you feel her breath in your mouth, her firm tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Your arm sneaks around her waist, pulling her body flush on yours, earning another long hum from her. Her weight on you is a delight as she leads the pace of your mouths and your heart constricts as if squeezed between loving fingers. This is intimacy, you realize; Black Swan’s thigh between your legs and her wet digits under your chin, her tongue past your lips and the warmth of her skin on yours. You feel breathless in an entirely new way.

The ache of your pussy dulls to a soft pulse, your hands run down her sides to squeeze her waist and you’re suddenly hungry for everything she has to offer. You rub circles into her pliable flesh, your touch growing insistent as you keep her pressed against you. Black Swan moans low into your mouth when your palms slide down her body to grasp her ass. Her breathing is a touch heavier against your lips and you prop up the thigh between her legs, drawing an exquisite gasp from her.

“Need you…” you mumble, fingers slipping under top to pull at the mesh of her bodysuit over her back. It slaps her skin when you let go and the needy sound that leaves her almost makes you moan. “Off.”

“Demanding…” Black Swan sits up, lavender hair cascading down her back, and grips the material of her purple top from the bottom to pull it over her head in one smooth movement.

Your pupils dilate considerably at the sight of the intricate lace of her bra. She leans forward to capture your mouth in an eager kiss. You run your hands up her stomach and fondle her heavy breasts between your palms, enjoying their plushness. Your fingers tug on the cup of her bra to free one of them and you whine in the middle of the kiss at the feel of her hard nipple under your thumb. Black Swan leans into your touch with a quiet sigh. You harshly twist her nipple for the surprised moan that escapes her. Pulling her tight bodysuit down her waist only takes a few seconds and your hands greedily take fistfuls of her breasts and squeeze once, then twice, as your mouth chases hers, her tongue wetting your lips in a sloppy, hurried kiss.

Black Swan helps you pull her clothes past her hips and takes the rest off herself, revealing the creamy skin of her plump thighs and the dark lace of her underwear. Slick clings to the fabric in a thick, sticky string when she slides it off her legs to discard it on the floor. Two of your fingers run down her cunt, grazing her engorged clit, and she lets out a breathy moan, resting her forearms on each side of your head to support her body. She’s incredibly wet, so ready for your touch between her folds. Her entrance gushes with another wave of arousal, breath heavy, as the tip of your index teases her hole. Her forehead rests on yours, the tip of your noses brushing. You nuzzle into her at the same moment you push a finger inside her throbbing pussy, tentatively thrusting into her to feel the warmth of her walls before slipping a second digit into her.

Black Swan squeezes her eyes shut with a needy moan against your lips and her cunt clenches tight around your fingers. The slight stretch of her pussy brings her considerable relief; it’s not long before her hips follow the pace of your thrusts inside her. Her breasts move with the rest of her body, baby pink nipples grazing your chest with every roll of her hips. Her breath is hot on your face and she stutters out soft gasps as you quicken your pace, drunk on the feeling of her cunt sucking in your fingers like she never wants to let you go.

“Yes—” she gasps against your mouth, “You feel so good…”

You plunge into her up to the knuckles, determined to have her gush over your hand. Your name is a half moan past her lips and her brows twist in pleasure, the filthy, wet sound of your digits drilling into her fluttering pussy filling your bedroom in an intoxicating melody. A quiver goes through her thighs. Black Swan lifts one hand from the bed to bring it between her legs and swipe her aching clit in tight circles, low oh’s and ah’s spilling from her mouth. Together, you bring her closer to the edge. You masturbate her the way you know how, the way she’s watched you do to yourself so many times, fingers curling inside her and making her see explosions of colors behind her eyelids. She’s tempted to curse, her who never does, and she feels the coil in her belly snap as white hot pleasure washes over her. Her hand stutters on her clit and she comes around your fingers with a sharp moan, squeezing them tight and forcing you to slow down your pace, her limbs trembling over you. Her orgasm is intense, she shivers from head to toe and struggles to keep herself above you, chest leaning into yours.

Black Swan barely has a moment to catch her breath as you slip out of her and rub comforting shapes into her love handles with one hand while bringing her wrist up to your face. You take her fingers into your mouth and her eyes blink open at the sensation of your tongue swirling around her digits, sucking her clean. She gazes down at you, lips parted.

“Swan…” you breathe out around her fingers, the hint of a whimper in your words. “Want you on my face.”

Black Swan applies pressure on your tongue, making you moan. “Is that right?” Her voice is low and throaty, each word carefully enunciated despite her heavy breathing.

You nod eagerly, squeezing the dip of her hip. The thought of her plush thighs around your head, trapping you between their soft flesh as she grinds her cunt on your tongue makes your head spin. You want to bury your nose in her slick folds and have her come in your mouth until she’s too sensitive to handle your ministrations. Black Swan hums, a fondness in her lidded eyes as she takes her fingers out of your mouth. They leave a wet trail on your skin when they cup your cheek.

“So eager to please,” she says softly to herself, thumb tracing the curve of your top lip. “Alright.”

Like she was ever going to say no to the needy look in your gaze; you look up at her with twinkling admiration and she feels herself pulled to you once more.

Black Swan positions herself over your face, thick thighs on each side of your head, and your arms wrap around them to pull her closer. Her pussy glistens, puffy and pink, as she gently tangles her hand in your hair and the sight is breathtaking. The short hairs on her cunt are only slightly darker than the ones on her head, they shine with her slick and entice you further into her folds. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up her slit, delighting in the soft hum that follows the gesture. You’ve never done this before, but you try your best to apply theory to practice, rubbing the flat of your tongue on her cunt and collecting her tangy cum. The grip on your hair pushes you closer to her wet pussy, but she’s careful not to be too harsh.

“Just like that,” her quiet, breathy moans encourage you as you suck her pulsing clit. The drawl of her words sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy. “You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”

The taste of her fills your mouth, the smell of her arousal takes over your nose as it coats the tip of it, you can feel her all around and it makes you moan into her throbbing cunt. The vibrations reverberate through her pussy, pulling another long moan of your name out of her lips. She’s sensitive from her previous orgasm, already twitching against your tongue, yet her hips rolls into your mouth to chase release a second time. You stare up at her head thrown backwards in blind pleasure, at the sheen of her lips and the movement of her breasts, nipples like pretty pebbles on her chest. Sweat clings to her brows and dampens the bangs framing her cheeks. She’s a painting above you, one that you can’t tear your eyes from.

“You’re so pretty, Swan…” you mutter into her pussy, flicking your tongue on her clit, and she almost melts at the compliment.

Her hips grind into your face as she feels herself getting closer to release, gripping your hair a bit tighter to keep your mouth on her cunt.

“Oh…” Black Swan moans, two fingers closing around her nipple to pinch it softly. Her cum drips down your chin and her eyes shut in bliss.

Her orgasm comes embarrassingly fast— after having to rely for so long solely on the thoughts of you as she touched herself, hearing your muffled sounds into her pussy is enough to bring her to the brink. You’re enthusiastic, licking up her slit and between her folds, sucking her clit hard and fast, and she can’t resist bucking into your mouth as she comes on your tongue. Her body trembles and you welcome the gush of her cum in your mouth with a pleased moan, eagerly lapping up her release. Your hands tighten their hold on her thighs, keeping her flush against you while she rides her high, slightly leaning forward. Her clit twitches, her cunt throbs and she can’t believe how wet she is, cum staining her thighs and the bottom of your face.

You don’t let her pull away, gripping her tighter when her hips jerk away from your mouth, and she gasps out, the feel of your tongue pushing into her entrance quickly overwhelming her.

“Aeons—“ A moan breaks her sentence and the words get stuck in her throat as you wriggle your tongue inside her to swallow more of her cum.

Her thighs shake around your head and her eyes almost roll back into her skull at your desperate need to draw more of her needy sighs and throaty moans. Your open mouth won’t leave her pussy, sucking her lips, nose grazing her sensitive clit. Black Swan makes a pretty mess on your face and her hips greedily grind into you despite the overwhelming sensations, clutching the headboard in a tight grip.

She breathes out your name, eyes shut and brows twisting in pleasure, “Ah… Mmh—!”

You wrap your lips around her clit and suck, making her choke out a strangled moan as the hand in your hair attempts to pull you from her pussy.

“T-Too sensitive…”

Black Swan sees stars behind her eyelids, a broken whine in her throat when you relent slightly and opt to tease the base of her aching clit instead. Her stomach is so tight, orgasm rapidly approaching, and she can’t do anything but rub her cunt desperately onto the flat of your tongue. She needs to come so badly she forgets to take into account the fact that you’re having difficulty breathing with your nose in her pussy and her thighs around your head. There’s a throbbing in your skull not unlike a coming migraine, but you focus on making her feel so good her teeth sink into her bottom lip to muffle a needy cry.

With the tip of your tongue teasing her entrance, Black Swan comes hard and shakes above you as a drawn out moan of your name rips from her throat. You can’t breathe with how much she’s squeezing your head, you have to tap her thigh a couple times to get her attention and she finds the strength to pull herself from you, a tremble in her legs. You’re both panting heavily when she collapses on the bed beside you, catching your breath as the throb of your skull slowly subsides. Black Swan has the back of a hand on her eyes and you can see the quiver that runs through her with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

You bury your face in her chest and she sighs in satisfaction, absentmindedly stroking your hair as you press soft kisses to her breast.

“Was that okay?” You murmur into her skin, rubbing her waist.

Black Swan laughs, disbelief sending ripples through her abdomen. She tilts your head to face her and gazes down at you with a mix of endearment and amusement.

“It was more than okay, trust me.”

Her hand pulls you to gently kiss your lips, tasting herself on your mouth. You’re putty against her and she has no difficulty flipping you over so that your head rests on your pillows. A thumb swipes over your jawline when she separates her lips from yours. You watch the sun rise in her eyes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, mmh?”

#honkai star rail #hsr black swan #black swan x reader #hsr x reader #hsr smut #black swan x you #hsr x you #black swan smut #hsr fanfic #sub!hsr #dom!hsr #hsr #hsr black swan x reader

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi! I really love your writing 💖

Can I request fluff with Eddie Munson x reader?

He has a big crush on her, but he's very shy. Also, he has never been known for affection with his friends, so they rarely even hugged.

But one time at a party, the reader realized he's a big cuddler while he's drunk.

Some time later, Eddie would love to cuddle with her again but he's too shy, so he pretends to be drunk and giggly again. 😅

Can we get a happy end, please? 🙏

Thank you so much! And aww, this is such a cute idea!

shy!eddie x extroverted!fem!reader

cw: mention of alcohol, both reader and Eddie are drunk

It was no secret that Eddie had a huge crush on you. Even though he was very shy, the heart eyes that would form in his eyes when he looked at you were so obvious to everyone. Even you. And you liked Eddie too. How could you not? He was always so sweet and caring and never failed to know what you needed.

You wanted to tell him that you felt the same way, but you felt like you should have let him take the reins. You hoped that he would eventually be comfortable enough around you to tell you the truth, but you had been hanging around him for six months and nothing. He wouldn’t even touch you which you knew was because of his trust issues and you were willing to help him through it.

You showed up to Steve’s party with the sole intention of finding Eddie. He had told you he was going to be there which you found odd since he didn’t really care for being around that many people at once. You had no idea what that was like, but you sympathized.

You grabbed a drink for yourself and made a beeline for the curly mop. He paused mid conversation and pulled you in for a tight hug which caught you off guard since that was very abnormal for him. He arms wrapped around your waist tightly, burying his face into your neck.

Turned out that Eddie just needed a few drinks in him to be down to cuddle. He held onto you the whole night, his face buried in your neck while he occasionally pressed kisses to it. You loved seeing that side of him. The physically affectionate side of him that had no probably holding onto you tight.

Although, you felt bad that he felt like he needed to get drunk in order to hug you. You hoped that he knew that he could hug you whenever he wanted and didn’t need to drink to do so. You guys were friends and despite his nervousness around you sometimes, you hoped that he knew that you’d be there for him no matter what.

After the party, Eddie found himself pretending to be drunk just to get cuddles from you. At first, you played along, but over time, you were getting tired of the act. You were going to finally tell him how to felt to finally put a stop to the madness. You thought that maybe if he knew that you felt the same way, he’d stop.

You both were lying on your bed and Eddie was acting like a fool once again. He was all giggly and mumbling in gibberish which were the telltale signs that he was faking. Enough was enough.

You pulled him into your arms and he snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You ran your hand through his hair while pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I really like you,” you told him and he just snuggled further into you, letting out a contented sigh.

“I like you too.”

“No, Eddie,” you pulled his face away from your chest and forced him to look you in the eye. “I like you.” His eyes went wide and his mouth was agape at your words. He didn’t see that coming at all. “So you can stop pretending to be drunk just to cuddle me.”

“You knew about that huh?” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“I know everything,” you smiled. “So are you going to be my boyfriend or not?”

“Oh, I’m so going to be your boyfriend.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek then snuggled into your chest once again, the two of you falling asleep peacefully know that you were finally together after months of dreaming about it.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #shy!eddie munson #extroverted!reader #shy!eddie x extroverted!reader