#just suddenly had the urge to draw them
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Book
Summary: Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Breeding kink. P in V. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Creampie. Overestimulation. Cumplay.
Word count: 1.7k
It wasn't unusual for you to find yourself on your back, knees bent and legs spread apart as Astarion's hand worked diligently in between them.
“You know… I came across this book in Rivington."
Two fingers rubbed slow yet measured circles between your slick folds. His dexterity truly shined through in these moments, as he lured you closer and closer to the edge of your sanity.
“A book?”
“A most interesting book.”
His lips pressed lingering kisses across the exposed side of your neck, and you struggled to keep your eyes fixed on his hand.
He adored it when you watched him deliver unprecedented pleasure, and the sight was positively maddening with your wetness coating both his fingers as lewd sounds echoed in your ears.
The cluster of pillows strategically placed behind you aided you to take in the view more clearly, and you couldn't help but moan softly.
Suddenly, you jolted at the feeling of one fang raking across your sensitive skin. “What of it?”
“Do you really want to know, darling?”
His purring voice alone could edge you so effectively that you had to grip the bedsheets under you, balling your fists and silently praying to the gods above to help you stay grounded.
“Yes…” you moaned, eyes nearly fluttering shut.
Astarion quickly bfound your pulse point and planted an open-mouthed kiss.
Just bite me…
That would surely be your undoing, but he merely chuckled and you felt him smile.
“It spoke of dhampirs - half-vampires.”
Gods…
The implication that dangled from his silky words wasn't particularly subtle and you found yourself clenching around nothing.
“It is not an easy feat, but with the right amount of dedication and… perseverance,” he punctuated each word with a roll of his fingers, drawing soft whimpers from you. “... I'm quite certain we can explore it.”
You clenched again, and your legs faltered, almost dropping from the chill that ran down your spine.
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No, no, my sweet. Keep your focus and your legs up high for me.”
Astarion thrived on your pleasure and basked in your praises.
He was good.
He knew he was good.
And he wanted you to show him.
Stroking his ego was a sure way to get his complete devotion.
The throbbing between your legs intensified tenfold and you could see it swollen and peeking through your folds as he dragged his drenched fingers all the way up to your lower abdomen.
“What do you say?” He purred in your ear, massaging you tenderly.
Another agonising clench.
You parted your lips in search of a reply, but the words died in your mouth at the sight of his fingers spreading your wetness across your skin.
“Well? Will you let me breed you?”
His crude words had you gripping the fabric in your hands tighter, and you wondered how much longer until it finally tore.
“Astarion…”
Slowly but surely, you felt something prickling at the skin on the back of your hand.
It was slightly cool and you needn't need to look to know his cock was leaking precum.
Just for you.
The liquid began dribbling down your skin as he began pressing soft kisses along your jawline.
Silently, he grabbed your hand until your fingers instinctively wrapped around his hardening cock.
And then he hissed.
“Tighter,” he urged, placing his hand atop yours to squeeze down hard. “You're tighter than this…” he finished with a sigh.
This time, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you rolled your hips in desperation.
He fucked your hand slowly, occasionally bringing your thumb to swipe across his tip, earning delicious and urgent moans from him.
Your breathing quickened and you felt the mattress shift under you as he carefully slid his cock from your grip, positioning himself on top of you.
“Eyes on me.”
You took a deep and shaky breath and your gaze dropped to witness an elegant finger disappear inside you.
A swift gasp escaped your throat and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him.
The corner of his mouth quirked up in an approving smile. “So eager…”
You were mesmerised by how he so easily slid a second one, the wet sounds nearly doing it for you.
He shifted until his cool lips were on yours, nipping at the lower one with the razor-like fang, easily drawing blood and gently suckling on the bruised flesh.
Your back arched when he removed both fingers from you before pressing his cock at your entrance.
By this point, you were too soaked to offer any resistance as he slowly sank into you.
You broke the kiss first, greedily looking in between your bodies just so you could watch his cock slide in and out, bulging veins glistening with your wetness.
“Enjoying the view, darling?”
You bit down on your lip, tasting your own blood as you nodded through half-hooded eyes.
Countless sweet rolls of his hips pushed you further and further along the inevitable precipice, and the familiar coiling and throbbing had your mouth drop open, unable to rein in your spilling whimpers.
He dipped his head to glide his tongue across your lower lip, both his arms caging you in and allowing him to angle his hips so he could sink fully into you.
You were visibly pulsing, your folds parted slightly, and his gaze soon followed yours.
A guttural grunt rumbled in his throat. “Let go, darling… and let me feel you tightening around me.”
You gripped his arms, bracing yourself for the impending wave of overwhelming bliss that took over your entire body, and through gasps and pants and moans, you plunged down the spiral of bliss.
A distant groan from Astarion was heard as your vision blurred, powerful contractions rippling through your lower half.
He was mumbling something, but you couldn't make out a single word, far too lost in your high to focus on anything else.
You felt his lips on your neck and you threw your head back, offering it fully to him.
As the waves of your contractions finally subsided, you came back to your senses, trying hard to even out your laboured breathing.
He was still buried deep inside you.
Had he come with you?
The answer came when his fangs began prodding the skin along your pulse point, as if barely containing himself.
He had yet to reach his peak.
“Can you give me another one?”
Your eyes widened and you struggled to form coherent words. “I… I don't… know.”
He brought one hand to grip your knee, pushing your leg against your torso, and spreading you further apart for him.
The pace he had set was contained and slow, a constant reminder that he yearned for his own release.
His tongue darted out to swipe across your flushed skin, and you turned your head, granting him easier access.
“Use your words.”
You swallowed, gasping from how oversensitive you suddenly felt from the constant friction in between your legs.
“Please…” you could only bring yourself to plead.
His fangs taunted the fragile barrier of your skin, but not with enough pressure to draw blood.
“Use. Your. Words.” He rasped impatiently, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.
You brought your hands to his chest, feeling the taut muscles tense under your touch.
“Bite me…”
The sharp sting had you grip him hard, his hardened nipples digging into the palms of your hands.
As soon as he got to control the flow of your blood, he quickly matched the rolls of his hips with each mouthful of warm liquid he downed.
Your senses were full of him.
Filled with him.
Dragging on hand to settle on his throat, you moaned as you felt him under your palm, eagerly swallowing your blood.
It didn't take long before his skin began to heat up against yours, and you could almost swear you felt his cock hardening even more inside you.
His pace didn't falter. If anything, he was simply indulging in the newfound vigour that only your blood coursing through his body could provide.
Wanting to further tease him, you circled his nipple with the pad of your thumb, earning an approving grunt.
The crescendo of pleasure began to throb deep within you with each passing moment, and you felt him take one of your hands in his, dragging it down to settle where his body connected with yours.
He slid out just enough for your fingers to trace along the bulging and pulsing veins that slithered around his cock.
He quickly withdrew from your neck with a low, rumbling groan, his handsome face hovering yours, droplets of blood dripping from his lips onto yours, which you quickly swiped clean with your tongue, tasting the metallic aftertaste.
You kept teasing his nipple, feeding your own pleasure from how responsive he was.
Astarion was about to come undone, and you realised that having your blood dripping down his chin and neck, was enough to catapult you steadily yet rapidly into the heights of your own pleasure.
Your eyes watched his face twist beautifully as he reached his peak, mouth dropping agape in a raging growl that made you shudder.
Under the touch of your fingers, you felt the underside of his cock spasm rhythmically as he emptied himself inside you.
It was too much.
You felt some of his cum overflowing and staining your fingers, and you immediately dragged them to the pulsing swell between your folds, coating it in the warm liquid and gasping as the violent wave of bliss had you contracting around him.
Astarion buried his face in the crook of your neck as he cursed and whimpered and pleaded for you to have mercy on him.
You truly wished you could grant him such relief, but you were far too gone to be of any comfort as both of you rode out your peak.
With a final grunt from him and a moan from you, he slumped against you, cock still buried deep.
You pressed a hand to the back of his head, slipping your fingers along his damp and soft curls, cradling him in your embrace.
“Just so we're clear,” you began in between pants. “What are the chances of this actually happening?”
He didn't reply right away, instead pressing his lips to the bite marks on your neck, cleaning up the mess.
“Not that high, I reckon?” You managed to chuckle, raking your fingers along his scalp.
“Not high at all.”
Just as you had suspected.
“But we're so used to turning the impossible into possible, that I can't see why this should be any different.”
Oh.
Oh.
A/N: I'm... sorry.... hahaha
Masterlist
#astarion smut#astarion x female reader#astarion x tav#astarion x f!tav#astarion x female tav#astarion x you#astarion x reader#astarion x f!reader
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Always Walk Me Home
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Pt I
Strawberry Wine Series
Masterlist
Summary: You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?
Word Count: 4.3k
a/n: Heeeeere we go, his number is in my bio for a reason, it’s my other favorite boy! This one is heavily inspired by some of the prompts on this list. anyways enjoy!
Warnings: alcohol/mild intoxication, mild sexual references, google translated Dutch
Things with Max are… brand new. Everything is still fresh. Everything he does gives you butterflies, makes your heart skip a beat. It’s the honeymoon phase, as everyone calls it.
It’s so brand new that nobody knows. Nothing is… official, yet. You’ve just been on a few dates, had a few movie nights. You’ve stayed at his place a couple times, waking up with his arm around your waist and Jimmy and Sassy curled up next to you. It’s casual. You’re keeping things casual. Max seems content to feel things out, to keep seeing you without labeling it. You’re trying so hard to be casual about it that it’s almost embarrassing.
You feel like everyone sees straight through you. On top of spending time alone together, you and Max are friends, so you see each other at group outings and clubs and dinners with your other friends. Max acts the same there as he always has- kind, courteous, and friendly. You won’t lie, sometimes you wish he’d hold your hand or pull your chair out for you or something, anything to show you that you’re not the only one feeling less than casual. But you’re scared of scaring him away, so you keep your mouth shut.
…..
You’re out to dinner with friends, somehow ending up sitting next to him. It’s nice, really nice. You can smell his cologne, can feel the warmth radiating off of him at the packed table. You have to fight the urge to nudge his foot with yours, to press your knee against his. That wouldn’t be very casual of you. You can do this, you can be normal.
He’s saying something to the person next to him, laughing and leaning towards them. You want to be the reason he’s laughing, want to be in on the jokes. You keep your mouth shut and look at the menu instead.
“What are you going to get?” Max asks.
He’s suddenly in your space. He’s leaning close, his shoulder brushing against yours. Be normal. You shrug, sliding your finger down the menu.
“Probably the shrimp scampi,” you say, pointing at the item.
Max nods. “You love seafood.”
You blink, breath caught in your chest. He’s right, but you didn’t know he knew that. Let alone for him to say it as fact. It’s not like he’s whispering either- someone else could hear. It’s silly, because it’s such a small thing, but you’re overanalyzing everything about it.
“I do,” you agree, turning and smiling at him.
“I remember things,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and now your face is growing hot.
Someone draws his attention away, and you look back to the menu. You nearly yelp in shock when something brushes your knee, but- it’s Max, you realize with a start, his hand searching for something. You hold your breath. His fingers find yours, and he interlaces your hands, palm to palm. He keeps them resting on your leg.
You try to take even breaths. He’s holding your hand in public, with your friends right next to you. Sure, it’s under the table, but this is the most you’ve gotten from him in a setting like this. He’s held your hand on dates, done much more in the privacy of his home, but here it feels overwhelming. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, and you resist the urge to hold on so tightly to him that he can’t let go.
Eventually the food comes, and you both let go so you can eat. But it was nice while it lasted.
…..
Max’s apartment is spacious and cozy, despite the fact that he’s gone from it so often. There’s a warmth here, an aura that just screams Max. His cats roam freely, though while you’re there they have a tendency to follow you around.
“They are traitors,” Max accuses as Jimmy and Sassy weave around your ankles in the kitchen.
“Maybe I’m just better than you,” you say.
“Oh, you are,” he says, sending up a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. “But I feed them. So they are traitors.”
You laugh, leaning down to pet the cats. They nudge their heads against your hands and legs, paw at your socks, and when you walk into the living room, they follow after. Max just watches with disappointment.
By the time he joins you in the living room, drinks in hand, both of them are curled up in your lap. He lets out a huff and sets the drinks on the table. Then he’s nudging at the cats, and you cry out when he pushes them both off your lap.
“Max!” You say, appalled.
He laughs, lays down on the couch, and promptly placed his head exactly where the two cats had been. He stares up at you with a wide grin, eyes squeezed nearly shut.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you answer.
He reaches for one of your hands. He squeezes your fingers softly before bringing your hand up to his hair. You laugh and take the hint, start running your fingers through the blonde strands. He lets his eyes fall shut. Then you watch as he brings his hand up, purses his lips, and points at them.
You take that hint too, lean over and plant a kiss on his lips. When you try to pull away, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and keeps you there. He deepens the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold you there. It’s not the best angle, but it’s nice, always nice to kiss him.
He finally lets you go and collapses back into your lap, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips.
…..
“I can’t open it!” You squeak. “What the fuck, how do they make it look so easy?”
You’re holding a bottle of champagne in your friend’s apartment, trying to get the cork out. It doesn’t help that you’re scared- one too many horror stories about someone getting a cork to the eye, or breaking a window. You huff and try again, gently. No use.
“Lando slams it on the ground,” your friend suggests, her eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, and he also shattered one of Max’s trophies,” you say. “So maybe not the best example.”
You hear familiar laughter, then, and you drop one hand to your side, still holding the bottle in front of you with the other. Max makes his way through the kitchen, a smile on his lips that paints his whole face. You hold it out to him, pouting.
“No, no,” he says. “I’ll show you.”
He wraps his hand around yours, around the bottle. You can’t lie, your mind goes somewhere else for a second, but you tamp those thoughts down and try to focus.
“See, you put this hand on the cork,” he instructs, “and this hand on the bottom.”
His hands are warm over yours. Your face feels hot. Does he feel the sparks when his skin touches yours, too? Or is this normal for him? Is it just a friend helping another friend? You wish you knew, wish he’d say something to quell your worries and calm your racing heart.
“-and then you twist, like this,” he demonstrates.
The bottle hisses, and you jump, but there’s no dramatic pop, no shooting of the cork. You just pull it out, and you stare at the bottle with wide eyes. Oh. That was-
“Easy, right?” He says. “You are already a pro.”
You laugh, shake your head, and hold out the bottle to your friends, standing there with their empty glasses. You want to study their faces, ask them if they noticed anything. You want to ask if they saw the sparks, too. Someone takes the bottle, and your hands fall to your side, the cork still between your fingers.
Your knuckles brush against something- when you look, it’s Max’s hand. He’s still standing there, watching as everyone passes the bottle around. You swallow tightly, bump your hand into his. Deliberately. You want to look up at his face, want to gauge his reaction, but you resist the urge.
Max reaches his pinky out and hooks it with yours. For just a moment, standing in the kitchen, surrounded by your friends, you’re linked. The sparks run from his finger, up your wrist and arm and straight to your heart. Your chest fizzes like the champagne, bubbly and overflowing.
…..
You weren’t even planning on seeing Max tonight. It’s a girls night, one that’s been suggested over and over, each of you being too busy to make it happen until tonight. You’re at your favorite bar, bass thudding in your chest, your friends all around you.
And then, there’s a tingling feeling in your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone is watching you. You turn over your shoulder and lock eyes with Max.
He’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He has a black t-shirt on that’s always been one of your favorites- it hugs his upper arms and his chest so perfectly. He’s watching you, a soft smirk on his lips, a drink in his hand. Everyone is moving around you, but you’re stuck on him.
You smile, wave, and force yourself to turn back to your friends. You like him, you want to spend time with him, but you’ve been neglecting your friendships because of it. Your friends have been teasing you all night about how you’ve been too busy, how you keep checking your phone, how there must be a guy. You’ve denied it at every turn. You can’t leave them now. Ditching your friends for the guy who isn’t even your boyfriend would be the opposite of casual. You force yourself not to look at him, but you swear you can still feel him staring.
Ten minutes later, a bartender appears with a tray of shots and lime wedges. “For you,” she says, pointing at you, and your friends squeal in excitement. She points behind you, then. “From him.”
You turn over your shoulder again. Max is watching, and waving this time. You laugh and wave back, and your friends all do the same. He’s far away, too far to make it in time as you each grab a shot and throw them back in unison. You put the lime between your lips and turn to look at him again, raising your brows. He laughs, eyes lit up so bright you can see the blue even across the room, you swear. Then he juts his chin in the direction of the hallway when nobody else is looking. A message just for you.
You find him out there ten minutes later, trying not to make it obvious and taking the time to come up with an excuse- you fake a phone call. The hall is empty when you walk out, and you wonder if he’s given up on you- you know you saw him walk out. Then he pops his head out from around a corner and waves you over frantically.
He’s leaning against the wall, the same way he was in the club. You stand against the wall on the other side of the hallway and stare at him.
“I’m not leaving right now,” you say. “I promised I’d stay out late.”
“I know,” he says. “Just wanted to see you.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? Seeing me across the bar wasn’t enough?”
The tequila running in your veins has you feeling braver than usual. It doesn’t seem to scare Max. He just grins wider, brow quirked.
“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re pretty from far away, but even prettier up close.”
Your face feels hot. He pushes off from the wall, leans towards you. He could box you in if he wanted, could pin you right there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes your hand in his and pulls you away from the wall, too. The kiss he sweeps you into is sweet. He wraps his arm around you, and you sling yours around the back of his neck. One of his hands cradles the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. Out of all of it, you’re much more focused on the feeling of his thumb on your cheek than the feeling of his lips on yours. It’s strangely intimate, strangely soft, the way he holds you as he kisses you in the hallway of a bar. The way his nose nudges against your cheek, the way he pulls you closer and closer like he can’t get enough.
He pulls away, leaves you gasping for air.
“You taste like lime,” he says.
You nod, dumbfounded.
“You should go back to your friends,” he suggests, kissing your temple. “If I keep kissing you I won’t want to let you go.”
You breathe out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “If you keep staring at me in the club I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”
He laughs. “I know,” he says. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you’re fun to watch.”
…..
Three days later, Max is holding your purse. He’d taken it from you when you were all standing in the lobby of the restaurant and your friend dragged you into the bathroom. He’d promised to keep it safe. Now you’re back, your friends are gathering their things and saying goodbyes, getting ready to go home. You’re watching him.
The little black bag looks even smaller in his hands. His fingers are wrapped around the clutch, thumb rubbing back and forth across one of the stitches the same way it had on your skin the night before. He’s talking to someone else, but when there’s a break in the conversation, you nudge him.
“I can take that back,” you say, holding your hand out.
He tilts his head, blinks softly. “That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”
You’re sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “Okay, but I’m leaving, so I need my purse.”
He nods. “I thought maybe I could walk you home. If you wanted.”
You nod in response, feeling a bit dumbfounded. The two of you exit the restaurant, waving goodbye to your friends. He takes your hand the second you’re outside, your purse still in his other one. Your fingers knit together like second nature, now. You could predict the pattern of the brush of his thumb against your skin like clockwork.
Your apartment isn’t far, but you find yourself walking slow on purpose, prolonging the moment. You pass people on the street and you know that to them, the two of you look like a real, actual couple. It’s nice to pretend. You lean into his shoulder, and he stumbles and laughs and keeps both of you upright. The two of you talk the whole way there, about everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.
When you reach the apartment building, he finally holds your purse out to you. You open the clutch, digging through it to find your keys and the front door access card. He watches in amusement as your fingers fumble through the bag.
“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. “I have some of that wine you like.”
You pull the card triumphantly from your bag. You look up at him, and he’s smiling softly, something sparkling in his eyes that makes your breath hitch. Makes the champagne bubble in your chest all over again.
“That’s okay,” he says, softly. “I’ve got to get back to the cats. But can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You blink, card still pinched between your fingers. “Yeah, sure.”
He tilts his head at you. “Maybe brunch. You are going to need sleep. How about you text me when you wake up and we’ll go from there?”
You nod. He nods back. Then he reaches up, cups the side of your face in his hand. He’s so gentle about it, more so than he normally is. When he presses his lips to yours, he tastes like gin and he kisses like… like he cares for you. Like this isn’t leading somewhere else, like he’s not going to pull you into his lap and start trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses you just to kiss you, just to say goodnight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when he pulls away. “Goodnight, liefje.”
You smile up at him. “Goodnight, Max.”
He smiles back. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead softly. You swear you’re melting into the sidewalk. You must be a puddle under his feet. You want to press yourself into his chest, tell him to wrap his arms around you, ask him to never let you go.
But you’re trying so hard to be so good at being casual, so you kiss his cheek, turn around, and walk inside. You take the elevator up, leaning against the wall and covering your giddy smile with your hand. When you get into your apartment, kick off your heels, and drop your bag on the counter, your phone buzzes. It’s a call. You look at the screen and see Max’s face.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Did you get in alright?” He asks.
Your heart squeezes fiercely in your chest. He sounds so soft, asking it. You walk over to the window, peel back the curtains, hoping you’re right about what you think you’ll see. There he is, still standing in front of the entrance, phone to his ear. He’s staring up at your window. When he sees you, he waves.
“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”
But I’m so glad you did.
“Yes I did,” he says, voice soft and scratchy from the night out. “Had to make sure you were safe.”
“Okay,” you breathe. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”
“I will,” he says. You watch as he waves again, smiling up at you. “Goodnight.”
…..
He picks you up for brunch the next day. By the time you’re in his car, it’s nearly 10:30. He drives with his hand on your knee, like always, fingers dancing across your exposed skin below the hem of your sundress. You like watching him drive, like being here with him. He pulls up to the restaurant and runs around to open your door for you, leaving you laughing. He hands the keys to the valet. Then he slips his arm around your waist and leads you inside.
You’ve been on dates with him, but none this fancy, none where you feel a little out of your element. Max seems comfortable, though- it’s moments like these where you’re reminded he’s not just your-friend-Max. He’s F1-world-champion-Max-Verstappen. Of course he can get a reservation here with such short notice. They’re honored to have him here.
A waiter leads you to a booth in the back. The restaurant is bright and airy, fresh flowers on every table. Max asks for a pitcher of water and orange juice before the waiter leaves. He pulls your chair out for you, pushes it in when you sit down. Your palms are sweating, heart beating rapidly. It’s just- this is the closest you’ve come to feeling like you’re actually dating him. Suddenly, it’s terrifying.
You ask him what’s good on the menu. He points out his favorites- the French toast, the eggs Benedict, the omelettes. He tells you he’s going to order a fruit sampler for the two of you to share, and you smile softly.
“They always have the best strawberries,” he tells you, eyes lit up. “You love strawberries.”
“I do,” you tell him, warmth filling your cheeks. “You do too.”
You’d bonded over that, when you first became friends. A strawberry wine that nobody else wanted to drink. Too sweet. You’d split the bottle with Max and went to bed with a sugar rush, your lips still tasting like strawberry. Ever since, for every special occasion, the two of you have gifted each other that same strawberry wine. It’s a running joke, among your friends- you’ll open the bottle, ask if anyone wants a glass. They’ll ignore you, but Max will come running.
He opens his mouth to say something, but over his shoulder, you spot something that makes your blood run cold.
“Shit,” you mutter.
He looks at you in concern. “What is it?”
“Nothing, just-“ you sigh. “Your coworker is here.”
Charles Leclerc has just walked in the door, a girl on his arm. The waiter is pointing in your general direction, towards an open table a little ways away. There goes your whole morning. He’s going to want to leave now.
Max turns to look, brows raised. “Oh. At least it’s one I like.”
You can’t help the laugh. “Should we go?”
Max turns back to you, perplexed. “What, get up to say hi? I don’t like him that much. He’ll come over here when he sees us.”
Us. You wish he meant it how you want him to.
“No, like-“ you sigh, gaze flickering down to the table. “You don’t want people to know, so-“
“What?” He asks, wide eyed. “What do you mean, I don’t want-“
“You didn’t want to tell anyone,” you say, quietly. You can’t look at him. “We haven’t even really talked about this, and… I figured you…”
You trail off, because you can feel him staring at you. He reaches over and tucks his finger under your chin. He tilts your face upwards towards his. His gaze is soft, a small smile on his face.
“Schatje, you have to be joking,” he says, and you stare back at him. “Of course I want to tell people. I have wanted to tell the whole world since I kissed you the first time.”
You blink. “But you- you didn’t want to put a label on it. You never…”
“We never talked about it,” he says. “I was giving you time. I’m a lot. Dating me is a lot. You are… I was following your lead.”
“Oh my god,” you blurt out, a giddy feeling in your chest. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”
The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile spreading across his whole face. You’re so done being casual.
Charles appears at the end of your table seconds later, smiling at the two of you. “Max, hi, good to see you. And I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he adds, turning to you.
“Charles, this is my girlfriend,” Max says, reaching across the table to take your hand.
When you greet Charles, you can’t wipe the giddy grin from your face. It stays there the whole rest of the day- through breakfast, through a walk through a park, through a late lunch at Max’s with the cats winding around your ankles. Every time it starts to fade you think of Max, bright blue eyes, his finger under your chin. You fall asleep still smiling. You’re pretty sure it’ll be there when you wake up.
…..
The next time you go out with your friends, Max carries your bag the whole night. He also keeps his hand on the small of your back nearly constantly. He orders and pays for all of your drinks, includes you in all the conversations, and brushes his lips against your temple every time there’s a lull in the talking.
Nobody questions it. None of your friends even bat an eye. You find out why when you end up in the bathroom with the girls, a tradition as old as time itself.
It turns out they all already knew.
“Max told us all the day after he kissed you the first time,” someone tells you. “And then he told us we all had to act like nothing was different, because he didn’t want to scare you off.”
You collapse into a fit of laughter, bracing yourself against the sink. All this time, you were worried about it, and he’d told everyone right away. You’d thought you were the one struggling to be casual. God, you’d have saved yourself so much trouble if you’d only asked. If you’d only told him straightforward what you wanted. If you’d only been up front.
You’re giddy with it, then. You can feel it coursing through your veins and buzzing in your fingertips. You won’t call it love yet, at least not out loud. It’s too soon, right? It can’t be love. But it’s something, and now you want him next to you. You want his lips on yours again. You’re missing him even though he’s just through the door, waiting for you, your bag in his hand.
When you return to his side, you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. You watch his smile grow and his cheeks turn red. You place your hand on his shoulder and put your lips against his ear.
“You should take me home,” you tell him.
His cheeks get even redder, and he turns to you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “You’ll walk me home, right?”
“Always,” he agrees.
He takes your hand, squeezes lightly. You feel like you’re glowing brighter than the neon lights above your head.
…..
You slip up over your morning cup of coffee three days later. The cats are in your lap. There’s the perfect amount of cream and sugar in the mug, he’s made it exactly right. The sun is shining through the windows, bouncing off his hair and painting his skin in golden light. You weren’t going to say it out loud, you really weren’t, but it slips past your lips anyways.
“I love you,” you say.
Max laughs, takes the mug from your hands, and kisses you.
Then he says it right back.
read the prequel/ sequel, Someone Sane
okay, now I’ve got my three favorite boys in the masterlist! thanks for reading! come say hi, or check out more of my writing here. drop an ask or a dm to be added to the tag list!
taglist: @4-mula1
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#formula one fic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#max Verstappen#fanfic#max verstappen fluff#fluff#honeywrites#mv1#strawberry wine verse
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hi! could u write a fic about is the first time of the reader with spencer helps her and them made love so romantic *im sorry im so romantic 🙈* :)
I luv all ur writings <3
xoxo
(18+) soft spencer x inexperienced reader. 1.4k
Love was a foreign concept until he met you.
-
Spencer has savored the taste of chocolate, relishing its rich sweetness as it melts on his tongue. He's indulged in the smoothness of honey, its velvety texture spreading across his palate. And amidst his love for the sugar in his coffee—slightly bitter yet abundantly sweet—none of these flavors could compare to the taste of you.
Because you tasted so divine, it was the only way he could describe it. His hands were pressed on the back of your thighs, forcing you to spread your legs further apart as he worked his tongue over you, swallowing every drop of arousal that dripped down to his mouth.
The thought of ever going back to a life without the taste of you seemed absurd now—It was a crime against his senses. So he devoured you eagerly, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, completely lost in the spell of your flavor and scent. He couldn't get enough, and honestly, he didn't want to stop.
He was hooked, addicted to the way you writhed and moaned beneath him; your fingers tangling in his hair, your desperate pleas, and the way your hips bucked against his mouth. And when he sensed you teetering on the edge of release, he doubled his efforts, sucking and licking with a feverish intensity, intent on drawing out every last drop of your bliss.
It wasn't until you gently pushed his head away that Spencer finally drew back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. You couldn't help but giggle at the satisfied grin that spread across his face, his breathless chuckle mirroring your amusement as he crawled over your trembling body.
"That was..." you trailed off, running your hand up his arm as he settled between your legs.
"Good?"
You sighed.
"Amazing. Splendid. Marvelous."
With a soft laugh, he reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Someone's been hitting the thesaurus."
You swatted at his shoulder playfully. "Shut up and kiss me again."
The smile on his face widened into a grin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin before capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss. He pressed himself closer to you and the unmistakable sensation of his cock brushing against your clit made you gasp in surprise.
"You're so perfect," he muttered, slowly grinding his length along your wet folds. He fought the urge to take you right then and there, but your comfort was his priority. He needed to make sure this was what you wanted. "Are you sure you're ready?"
You stifled a sigh. While you appreciated his concern, it was starting to get on your nerves, after all, it was just sex... You might be inexperienced, but how difficult could it be?
"Mmhm," you answered, though your voice came out a pitch higher than you intended. "Of course, I am."
He slightly pulled away. "You don't sound so sure."
You stared at him for a moment before finally letting out a sigh.
"Fine, I'm a little nervous, okay?" Biting your bottom lip, you voiced the question that had been weighing on your mind.
"Is it—" you suddenly sighed, or it was more like a moan that escaped your lips as the underside of his cock continued to rub along your wetness. "Is it... going to hurt?"
His expression softened as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. "It might be uncomfortable at first, but I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassured. "We can stop anytime you want."
"I don't want us to stop."
A surge of warmth flooded him at your words, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Then we won't," he promised, slipping his hand between your body. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
You made a noise in the back of your throat as you watched him bring his cock closer, dragging it through your folds before he thrust his hips forward. The sensation was overwhelming and unfamiliar, and you couldn't help but tense up in response.
"Is this okay?" he asked. You nodded, though your breathing had become erratic. Your eyes fell closed as you started to feel him stretching you, the sensation both strange and uncomfortable. It was like your body was resisting him.
"Honey, I need you to relax," he murmured soothingly. "Can you do that for me?"
You winced when you felt him pushing further, a sharp pang of discomfort shooting through you. "S-Spence... it hurts..."
"I know, honey, I know," he whispered, his thumb continuing its gentle caress against your cheek. "Breathe with me."
You opened your eyes, meeting his reassuring gaze. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart, and he followed suit, matching your rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Hold.
Breathe.
"Good, that's it," he encouraged softly. "Just like that. You're doing great."
Despite the initial discomfort, you focused on relaxing your body, allowing him to stretch your tight walls. He watched your lashes flutter against your cheek before his gaze dropped between you, taking in the stretch of your cunt, slowly allowing him to press deeper and deeper.
He then buried his face in your shoulder as he sheathed himself completely and you stifled a shocked yelp as you clung onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin. You hadn't expected to feel so full, for him to reach that deep.
The room fell quiet, broken only by the steady rhythm of your breathing and the faint rustle of sheets. He waited patiently, his body pressed against yours, allowing you time to adjust. Then, he pressed a lingering kiss on your collarbone, his lips warm against your skin.
"Tell me how it feels," he whispered. You weren't sure you could form proper words, becoming so lost at the feeling of him inside of you. But you managed to take a moment to gather your thoughts.
"It feels... weird," you replied.
He lifted his head from your shoulder. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shook your head, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you stared up at him. He was beautiful like this, pressed against you, cheeks flushed with desire, damp hair tousled on his forehead—his cock finally buried deep inside you.
"You're doing so well for me, you know that?" he said, and the words made you sigh in response as his hips moved slightly back before rolling back into you, causing you to close your eyes with a quiet gasp the same time he let out a groan.
Something shifted after that. The air crackled with electricity. The blood in your veins pumped a little faster and your breathing deepened, each inhale filling your lungs with the heady scent of him. With growing urgency, your hips began to buck forward, eager to meet his slow, deliberate pace.
"Th-That feels good," you couldn't resist whispering to him. The initial pain you had felt had quickly faded, replaced by a rush of pure, hot pleasure that overwhelmed your senses.
"Do you think I can go faster?" He whispered, and you could hear the slick noise as he thrust his cock into your dripping walls. "Can you take it?"
A breathless yes escaped your lips and it was enough for him to get lost in you completely. His lips found their way to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin as he quickened his pace. The sensation was overwhelming, it was too much yet not enough, and all he could do was kiss every inch of your skin and tighten his grip on your body.
Spencer never understood the term making love, for love itself had often felt like a foreign concept to him. But with you in his arms, nothing else seemed more fitting, it was as if you were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.
He now realized that love wasn't something to be analyzed, it wasn’t something his big brain could understand—it was meant to be felt, deeply and profoundly, and his love for you was as natural as the beating of his own heart.
#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader smut
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BLOCKING THEIR KISSES + CREEPYPASTA MEN.
Masterlist. / Requests?
SYNOPSIS: How they'd react to you dodging one of their kisses.
PAIRINGS. Jeff the killer x reader , Ticci Toby x reader , Eyeless Jack x reader , Hoodie x reader , Masky x reader , Homicidal Liu x reader , Ben Drowned x reader
GENRE + WARNINGS. Nothing too explicit. It's mostly fluff overall.
ﾒ JEFF
Usually — he isn't very affectionate. So one of the fairly rare times he decides to press a chaste kiss onto your cheek, and you dodge? He takes it as disrespect. Will probably and very suddenly — take a hold of your collar rather roughly, pull you into him, lips colliding as you were completely dumbfounded. He wouldn't even be gentle about it either, he'll probably give your lips a rough tug if he's feeling especially petty. The kiss he gives you will calm him down in a few moments, but he will grunt in annoyance, becoming conscious of the reason he had been slightly irritated with you.
ﾒ TOBY
He is extremely affectionate — he's constantly pressing kisses against your skin, and muttering compliments. So the next time he leans in for a kiss, and you press your hand against his mouth before he can manage — he's a little oblivious, he genuinely thinks you just want him to kiss your hand. He brought your hands to his cheeks to rub their backs against his skin. You absolutely flush when he begins peppering them with kisses so soft it almost made you question if he was even making contact. This man is so persistent with his affection.
ﾒ JACK
Will most likely bite your hand. Contrary to popular belief — Jack isn't as mature as most people think. Yes, he's usually one of the more level-headed and mature ones among the creeps, but it doesn't mean he doesn't have his petty moments. The moment you press your hand against his face before he has the chance to kiss you— he's sinking his teeth in your hand with an annoyed expression. The bite isn't hard enough to draw blood, but just enough to basically tell you to stop your shit, and give him a kiss already. He deserves it! (He thinks he's entitled to your affectionation, and you feed into this delusion.)
ﾒ HOODIE
It's been an incredibly long day for him, he's finally home after an unnecessary amount of proxy work, and he's ready to just fall asleep with you. He leans in for a kiss — but when he's denied of it, he definitely just ignores your action and attempts to kiss you again. Making the mistake of pressing your hand against his mouth before he can kiss you will result in him glaring at you a little. Watching you, Hoodie smirks as he lands a gentle yet sharp slap on your backside — just to get back at you for being a little shit.
ﾒ MASKY
This man. He's so petty. As soon as you decide to dodge him, there’s a pair of auburn eyes burning holes in the side of your head and you can feel the gaze penetrating further and further into your skull with each passing second. Will actively ignore you until you decide to just give in, and kiss him — he might even ignore your affection if he's really feeling petty. He bites. Not just your neck, he bites your shoulder, your arm. You assume he’s going insane since he has you pinned against the bed.
ﾒ LIU
This man is so cute — if you playfully press your hand against his mouth when he tries to kiss you, he'll only smirk a little before grabbing your hand. He'll turned them around, rubbing his calluses with his thumb as he admired them. Hid lips drew a trail in kisses as they made their way up your hands from the base of your palms to the tips of your fingers. He'll compliment you — tell you how your hands are one of his favorite things. Your heart racing and breathing quickening, before you pulled his hands to your lips for a kiss of your own.
ﾒ BEN
Will fight you. Finds it annoying at first how you straight up dodged his kiss. Trying to fight back the urge to pounce on you and giggle with you like a shy school boy. After he resorts to tickling your sides he gives up and spins around to grab your hands, tumbling on the bed and wrestling with you. He doesn’t need any strength to keep you down, you’re too busy laughing under him — he presses a few kisses to your face and has a goofy little smile on his face.
#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x you#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer#ticci toby#ticci toby x reader#eyeless jack#eyeless jack x reader#hoodie x reader#masky#masky x reader#homicidal liu#homicidal liu x reader#ben drowned#ben drowned x reader#creepypasta fluff
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౨ৎ. CHOCOLATE LIPSTICK ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt
tags fem reader. enemies to ( ? ). mike is mean + angry. 2-3 year age difference. sexual tension. oral fixation. semi-brat taming + 1k words.
mike was staring at you funny, it made you feel weird — annoyed, actually.
“what?” your voice was harsh, muffled by the sweet frozen yogurt coating your mouth.
he raised a brow at your tone, a little vexed from your sudden attitude. it reminded him of the bratty kid he happened to escort out of a toy store just an hour ago. he’s in a bad mood already, but there was no reason to get mad right now.
“don’t talk with your mouth full.” mike tiredly mumbled. an honest suggestion, but half of what he really wanted to say.
you rolled your eyes at his critiquing words. he always seemed to lecture you about the littlest things. how you’re not as productive during your usual security checks or even that one time he was finding the mall keys during your shared nightly protocols — making sure to make a sly comment and sprinkle in an unneeded suggestion about how untidy your bag was. exactly how an obnoxious parent would.
it was annoying. being treated like a child and especially by someone like mike. so what if he was a few years older? slightly more mature than you, much more responsible, and definitely not hot. just a little bit tho, but you’ll never admit that.
but ninety-percent of the time he pisses you off, and this is one of those times.
you swallowed down the yogurt that melted from your seething irritation, brows furrowed at the snarky comment he had to make about your dining etiquette. it’s a fucking mall food court, not a fine dining restaurant.
“do you always have to be a dick to me?” your words were laced with venom, all the suppressed anger managed to bubble out your throat.
his calloused fingers suddenly stopped twisting on the volume of the two-way radio, usual soft hazel eyes darken to a muted brown, stubbled jaw clenched. mike swallowed back the urge to say a few fighting words at your childish retort.
your tone wasn’t a big deal. well, until now.
his day has already been ruined. parents weren’t so attentive when it came to their bratty children, that meant he had to parent them himself — awkwardly standing until their tantrums fall silent or escorting dozens of children that happen to run off for some ridiculous toy. he didn’t need anymore whining from you, especially about something he’s done without the intention of malice — you were childish, immature.
“i don’t need to hear this right now.” mike was too tired to argue. a heavy sigh escaping his lips, his rough hands brushing away the tired feeling in his eyes. “you’re acting like a kid right now, you know that?”
you swore your blood pressure just went up.
“see that’s what i’m talking about! you treat me like a kid and you have to be a total asshole about it. why?”
passing families and teens curiously looked towards your table, the sudden blast of your agitated voice drawing unneeded attention. just what mike needed.
he turns away from their prying eyes, flustered that he was a victim of your grownup tantrum. mike continues the silent treatment as he listens to your incoherent babbling, colorful words like “old man” and “asshole” passed through his eardrums like a sour tune. the grip of his arm was deadly tight. yet, your pouting made his heart skip a bit. it was adorable, it always has been. but not when it’s accommodated with your high-pitched whines, your brows knitted with all these negative emotions, cheeks redden from breathless insults. the angry look in your face looked so familiar — it was the same look everybody seemed to give him.
all this over a smudge of frozen yogurt on your mouth. he would laugh if he wasn’t at his breaking point.
“fuck, i hate yo – !“ with sudden force, mike grabs you by your chin, the pouring insults latched shut with a firm grip.
the reddish hue on your face that was once from your vexation became brighter from mike’s unusual forcefulness — he has never been this angry with you before. weirdly enough, you don’t hate it.
the chocolate remnants blotched over your cheeks, dribbling from your unwiped mouth, was he pointing this out the whole time?
“watch your mouth.” you didn’t know if he meant the mess you made or your little tantrum session that set him off.
maybe both, you can’t tell anymore.
you both stare at each other for a second, the tension so thick in the air — the invasive looks felt like a blur in the background, or rather, seemingly drawn away by this peculiar exchange. hazy eyes slowly peered down at your mouth, deliciously glazed with chocolate yogurt. it was tooth aching, he could imagine the taste on his tongue. if only he was a little closer, he never had to daydream about this ungodly sight for weeks.
his thumb slowly drags over your pinkish flesh, gathering the sweet residue that coated your quivering lips. he reached over the corners of your mouth, studying every hitch of your breath and the way you nervously fiddle with the plastic spoon. someone so loud, bratty, could be silenced with a single touch.
pushing past your pursed lips and clenched teeth with ease, his sweetened touch swirled all over your taste buds — the subtle hints of sweat somehow tasted sweeter than the chocolate goodness. mike watches you closely, his slacks suddenly feeling tight. you’re letting him do this to you, without a protest or your usual dirty look.
for another second, his fleeting touch brushed against your wet muscle, mesmerized by its softness. the darkness that loomed in his irises vaporized into a soft green, lured by the sight of an obedient mouth. he finally draws away, a string of saliva connecting his cleaned off thumb and your glossy lips. the rigid grip on your chin loosens as mike huffs in mild irritation, mostly out of astonishment from this predicament.
mike stands from his seat, hiding his hard-on with his bunched up security jacket — hand still soaked from your dribbling saliva. awkwardly, he picks up the trash splayed over the table, making sure his car keys were stuffed deep in his pocket.
“i’ll see you tomorrow.” he steadily spoke, seemingly unbothered.
you nodded, mouth still slightly agape.
mike walks off, leaving you with your own muddled thoughts.
out of complete horror, you hover your nimble fingers over your mouth — the taste of his skin still permeates on your tongue. even with how intimate that whole situation was, mike made sure to clean the remnants of frozen yogurt off your face.
the gall to leave you utterly confused, edged by this new side of your usual grumpy coworker. there was a line between guilty attraction and burning hatred towards mike, you were stuck in the middle of it. but your racing mind seemed to linger towards the shadows casting his tired eyes, the focused look on your compiling mouth, the demand in his voice animating your body like a toy. fuck, yeah okay, he was hot.
the ache between your legs seeped arousal through your pants, you thanked your employers that your uniform was black. gosh, it’s been so long since anybody has touched you like that.
you nearly break your skull when your head falls defeatedly on the table — a heavy groan vibrating in your chest.
you don’t know if you could come to work tomorrow.
© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
#.୨୧ ina writes#.purple mark#( ? )#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt#fnaf movie x reader#fnaf movie#fnaf x reader#josh hutcherson
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◇Dry Humping◇
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Summary: Gumbo, a soup that brings out more then just the taste of its ingredients, but desire from within from a source only taste can trigger. A broth that acts as a honey sculpted cup that holds the aphrodisiac to the minds most fondest of memories. Affection. That is its purest name.
Tags: Mdni, boring plot, dub con (She ultimately enjoys it), dry humping, something I came up with on the spot.
Word count: 2.2k (not proofread)
Request: Yes/No
Part two at: 600 notes!🎉
As you stirred the ladel within the large deep pot from your place at the stove, atop your stool with your apron. You gently leaned over the pot as steam rose, inhaling the heated air so you could smell your progress, it was daring to graze the mark of heavenly, much to your excitement as you shifted to finish chopping up the vegetables that were set up on a chopping board on the off side of the stove as the radio played soft jazz in the background.
Being the kind and sweet little vixen you were, you thought you'd do the hotel a favor by cooking the rest of the staff a meal. Taking care to check on the individuals before you went all in on your choice. Angel wanted Asian food, claiming that he'd seen one of the girls at his work snacking on rice balls and wanted some too. Husk said he'd been craving seafood, groaning about how none of the places near the hotel had anything good to sell. Vaggie was bias, 'okay with whatever was cooking in your noggin' in her own words while Charlie urged you to surprise her with excited squeal. Nifty had ended up finding you before you could her, and then handed you a bag of maggots that were still very much alive and asked for a paste. Creepy, but you said okay before actually thinking it through. Pentious had taken a rather long while of thinking before he settled on soup, he wanted a tomato soup. That left you puzzled at what you could possibly make for everyone to equally enjoy, because fusing palletts with rices and seafood was a breeze, but adding a soup into the mix? Oh dear, your idea was becoming difficult to come into flourishan as you trekked down the halls of the hotel to locate the facility manager and overlord whom was currently residing in his pocket dimension like room, which never seemed to stay in a singular one of them, but shift everytime he wanted it moved. So it was a game of chance, knocking on every door you knew as vacant before finally having one opened by the smiling radio demon. He held his cane in the same hand that he had for the door, the other arm folded behind him as he tilted his head to the right in question down at you. "A meal, you say? My, I was going out this evening but I must ask what it is!" He had enthusiastically voiced through his static, but when you said you hadn't decided yet because of how different everyone's cravings were he seemed interested in also giving an option to you. "You always choose Jambalaya, why not another meal?" You complained while thinking of what you could do with all these choices. "I'm afraid it's Jambalaya, my dear. Unless you have any access to some truly delicious venison!" He chuckled out, lightly twirling his cane in his hand as he tapped it on the ground so he could lean his chin on the handle. This was so unfair, what could you possibly make that would—
"Wait, Jambalaya- Jambalaya, Cajun‐ Cajun means that rice, shrimp and- Yes, wait, hold on- Soup- Tomatoes- Vegetables and add extra meat like chicken and venison—" You babbled quickly aloud, drawing Alastors attention a bit more. He cocked a brow at you, lips thinning out as he grinned at your unintelligible banter, "My Dear, you must speak up. I simply can't understand anything when you mumble." He straightened himself up so he could examine his nails as you let out an excited noise, in all fairness it was so sudden that he had every right to tense up as you grabbed his arms suddenly in a tight grasp so you could pull him towards you, "You're a Genius Al, thank you!" You beamed, bouncyness following your stride as you began to quickly make your way back down the hallway to the stairs after letting him go like you hadn't even realized that his static was buzzing like a hornet around the two of you. You were something alright.
As you had just finished throwing the rest of the vegetables into the pot, you pulled out the spices from the lazy susan on the counter, choosing the more mild spices and only about four drops of tabasco before the basil and parsley were dashed in on top. Now the lid was placed, holding in the mouth watering scents that were to come later when they were ready. The music continued, your figure bopping gently around the kitchen as you began to get the plates ready with the rice, plopping large scoops into the bowls so you could hallow them out by pressed them inward with the bottom of the ladel you were using. At the bottom of each of the rice bowls you'd made, you added thoroughly cooked slices of venison to everyone's except Al's and Niftys. Those two were getting their own special snacks added in, the maniacs. Al's bowl got raw, uncooked deer meat at the bottom instead that and a few on a plate below his bowl that had the maggot paste for the side dip. Niftys maggot paste was poured into her bowl and topped with raw shrimp and then the cooked venison. After all of them were prepped, you picked up a rag and wiped your forehead because all you had to do was wait just a bit longer.
"Ah, so you're really cooking. I would have assumed the hotel would be in flames if anyone else were to take a chance in this room, of course Nifty can make some delicious demon spik."
"Haha, very funny Al." Your back was facing the radio demon, ears on alert as his footsteps slowly but casually drew him over to your bubbling pot, inhaling while lightly using his hand to bring the scent of the steam rising from the sides of the lid. He made a delighted noise, static almost completely gone as his claws grasped the handle of the lid and tugged it off, steam bursting upwards to show the contents within. “Well, this sure isn't Jambalaya but by good golly it's gumbo! How clever of you, little darling!” He spoke loudly, amused and seemingly with a truly gleeful smile on his face as his other hand grabbed your waist to pull you near him as he examined your work, nose catching whiff of a different scent near as well. “And if my nose doesn't deceive me," He inhaled deeply near your ear, nose just barely grazing your cheek as he leaned further up until his head was resting above yours, using his height to allow himself to break character for a moment, his eyes turning wide with dials fixed in the center as blood stains began to run down his chin from how hard he was grinning,
"₮Ⱨ₳₮ ĐɆⱠɆ₵₮₳฿ⱠɆ ₴₵Ɇ₦₮ ł₴ VɆ₦ł₴Ø₦.."
The harsh sound of his static made you wince, body tensed further, “Yes, I thought it would be a nice addition, the meats flavor is a bit different and so when you eat it with the broth i-it tastes mildly spicier then without it.” His voice buzzed, a satisfied noise leaving him as he side stepped around you, now back to his normal cheery grin as he took hold of one of the raw slabs of venison and dangled it above his mouth before slowly opening his jaws like a snake threatening to attack. Then, with a swift move, he clamped down on the thin piece of meat and tore it out of his hand in a single whip of her head to the side. “Truly a marvelous snack you've provided here, darling doe.” His nicknames were slowly progressing to more dearing comparisons, making you flush as you lifted you ladel and placed it back into the pot to stir it, but not before you climbed back onto your stool to do so.
-
Time went by as you cooked, Alastor remaining hovering with his quiet buzz of static as he enjoyed the meat that you had to offer, the fact that you had taken so much time just to get everything you had needed for him making him feel as though he was more important, even if you were making dinner for everyone. His eyes held true to your figure, that smile that forever kept its place on his face widening as he slowly lost himself in thought as he observed your lips lightly shy away from the utensil you'd pulled from the hot boil to get a taste of the broth, the contents being too hot to consume so suddenly before you blew on it. He reveled in the way you moaned at the creamy liquid, eyes shutting blissfully as a hand came to cover your lips like it would hide the long trickle of the broth from his sight. No, he saw it, and how he craved to be the very thing that would lick the taste off you, the tongue that would replace your own that darted so quickly out to take the drop for itself. That, nostalgic.. that warm and soft, dare he say heavenly taste from your lips, from your tongue. Alastors static began to grow in volume, his body inching closer to yours on the stool as he felt a growing pain from below at your half bent over form over the stovetop. “Do you often leave yourself so openly vulnerable to just anybody.. or… Am I just lucky?” He asked, suddenly right against your ear from behind, both hands atop each of yours as his physique pressed you into the dangerously hot Kitchenware. “What?-” You had asked, bewildered at the sudden change in atmosphere the room was in just moments ago.
Alastor hadn't really heard you, ears pressing back into his head as he pressed his crotch against the plush softness of your ruffled skirt, lightly moving the fabric of his bulge against your rear in slow rolls of his hips. It was sudden, hesitant almost, as if Al hadn't been planning for this to happen whatsoever. “I asked you a question, hmpf- d-dearest..” He hushed against the back of your neck, nipping it with his teeth with a hiss, his hands that had yours pinned down gripping harder to keep you in place as the stretchy fabric of your skirt rode up on your ass at the force used in his motions. The friction had you boggled in the brain, a few noises of concerned pleasure rising up into your throat as you thought hard about his question. “Ahn- N—no-..” She answered, earning a tut from the overlord behind her, the fabric of your panties were getting bunched up and pulled down about half way, “That's not a proper answer, now is it Mon Cher?” A little cry escaped you, the feeling of his pants rough texture against your soft petals making tears of overstimulation well in your big doe eyes. “I-I— I don't know- I can't- Ouu- Fuck!-” Alastor hushed you, a hand freeing one of yours so his could trail up to your neck so it could wrap around it in a firm grip. Your pretty face being cranned upwards and back so he could see the fucked out blissful expression on your face as your own hand reeled back to hold fast against his hip, a last attempt to push him away being futile as his movements became more spurred by you noises, faster and faster. "Such vulgarity," He groaned into your ear, breath hot and growling excitedly, "Speak again, speak to me. Tell me how you crave more, Mon Cher-" Your voice called to him, his name slipping past your lips like a hymn, a lament, a song.
Oh, how he adored your voice, strained and laced with need.
How he desired more as the coil in his mind snapped, antlers growing in size as he hunched over and into your back, head lightly using you as stability while his demonic form grew, long arms and gnarly claws digging into your clothes enough to tear the flesh, not only fabric. The dials of his eyes spun, his legs buckling as your bare cunts juices flowed lazily down his front, the warmth he felt as he released as well pulling a guttural growl from his throat as the both of you eased into a slower more controlled pace.
This hadn't gone as planned, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.
#happy hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut
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Because I have favorism towards the fae myself (And I'm sorry this is suggestive)
Remember Malleus' voice line about touching his hornes? Now, reader just touches them whenever they can be reached (like when Malleus is using their lap as a pillow) or stroking his tail whenever it's wrapped around Reader.
Without realizing it's doing things to him.
Oh my gosh. Don't apologize for suggestive content, I love that shit. Feed me more of it. Heuheuheuheu.
Feeding a Faes hidden desires
Featuring: Malleus Draconia <3
General warnings: Gender neutral reader
18+ / suggestive content minors please don't interact~
It was difficult for Malleus Draconia to open up to people, he had to be the face of pure perfection for the sake of his kingdom. Every action he took, every word he said, would reflect upon Briar Valley and put his position as a prince in either light of greatness, or foolishness. The former was not an option for Malleus Draconia. He was given the best of the best when it came to his studies and academics, except, unfortunately, sex ed.
He understood the bare minimum of course, for reproduction was important for keeping the bloodline of the Draconias strong. What he was not well versed in, however, was the feeling of lust that came with reproduction. He never knew it could feel so... dirty.
When he had agreed to allow you to touch his horns when you insisted, he had no clue what kind of...desires this would stir up in him without realizing.
You had asked the draconic fae to touch his horns and his tail, and he spent a few times urging you otherwise in fear of harming you in some way. Yet it did not take him very long to feel curious and begin to imagine how your hands would feel upon his horns and extremities, starting out purely out of curiosity and the desire to be closer to you.
The first time you touched his horns was in the comfort of the lounge, he bent over for you to touch and feel them freely before being interrupted by Sebeks outraged cries of blasphemy. Since the moment your soft fingertips pressed against the roughness of his obsidian horns, he felt his body shudder at the contact, and something in him he decided to ignore screamed in his mind that it was perhaps a...dangerous endeavor. He had managed to suppress himself from such thoughts and desires, even allowing you to (on occasion) touch his horns and tail at your request. Never for too long, for when the thoughts returned he made a quick excuse to end the session. He wanted to respect you and your soft touch- not sully the romantic gesture with lustful thoughts.
He was often searching for your touch in many different ways, in hugs, cuddles, gentle kisses, holding hands...yet a few months and almost a year, he could feel himself become far more greedier. Malleus would notice the slight changes in himself when you would reach up to grab hold of something on a shelf, the way your shirt rode up your stomach ever so slightly, the way your hands would draw circles around the title page to get a feel for the book, he almost felt himself envious of the piece of literature. He told himself not to lose control, to hold himself together like a proper gentlefae, allowing you to only touch his draconic features on the rare occasion he felt he could keep himself properly composed.
Yet now there you were, in your room in Ramshackle dorm, sitting upon the lap of your lover gently caressing his smooth black horns absentmindedly. It was a comfortable atmosphere for you, being held lovingly by your tall fae significant other in silence while pouring your love and affection into your little pets upon his horns. You muttered a "beautiful..." before leaning up slightly...
and placing a kiss upon his horns.
Malleus let out a sudden high-pitched "urgh!" of surprise, his tail squeezing your waist slightly. Your eyebrows raised in shock, pulling away to look at your now flushed lover, feeling a bit of...excitement from down below. He suddenly removed his tail from your waist and seemed to want to move away from you, until you pushed your body on top of his own, straddling his waist and feeling his arousal between your thighs.
"I-i'm-" He gulped and let out a low moan, his hands shaking hesitantly mid air, not certain where he should place them, "I'm sorry- this is incredibly unbecoming of a king-" You hushed him with a rushed kiss and shook your head, the kiss lasting only a moment prior to you pulling away face as flushed as his and forehead pressed against his own.
"It's natural," You comforted him, "Do you...like it when I touch your horns, Mal...?" You hesitated your inquiry, his response a simple and slow nod giving you confidence to move your hands back to his horns and begin to rub them intimately. You felt his body twitch below you and his tail wrapped itself around your thigh, voice trembling. You hadn't seen the fae prince so shaken up before, so uncertain, so vulnerable. Only in front of you would he allow himself to lose such control.
"Are you...are you certain? I haven't any...experience," He muttered against the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you tightly as if to console himself.
"It's okay," you murmured, hands removing themselves from his horns much to his whining displeasure of the sudden warmth disappearing from them, before shuddering once more as your attention shifted to his tail. Your finger trailed the scales and you felt him twitch between your thighs through his pants as his excitement stirred with every touch you placed upon his extremities.
"I...want it too," You purred.
Malleus's desire gauge was now at 100%
and you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.
~~~~
Masterlist
#Twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#malleus#malleus x reader#Malleus draconia#Malleus draconia x reader#twst smut#twisted wonderland smut#twisted wonderland fanfictions#twst fanfics
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boss, i have a question — miguel o’hara. ( nsfw ). amazinggg scenario based on this request. so tasty wtf. cheating. bj. innocence. secondhand embarrassment? finally posted, oml i’m so sorry for the long wait :(
you had one question and too many awkward outcomes. you couldn’t ask the people you’d rather ask. they’d ask more questions, and most likely not tell it to you straight. you needed to know, but nobody got that.
all except miguel.
you wouldn’t dare look at his face as you mumbled the words out. wanting not to say them but also wanting an answer to them. the silence feels like two hands at your neck. you can feel your feet shuffling, unintentionally sliding back. maybe you shouldn’t have asked.
your mind and gaze focuses on a speckle of dust on the floor, as you wait. yeah, you really shouldn’t have asked.
at first miguel’s reaction was shock. you asked what? he thought he had heard wrong. he had to have heard wrong. but you’re still here, feet shuffling, gaze down, but nonetheless still here. you wanted an answer. why from him? he doesn’t know.
“you can ignore my question.” you suddenly say, feet a lot farther back then before. “you can — ”
“no boyfriend to ask?” miguel’s questions is simple, said in that typical unfazed tone. “um…yes, but…i can’t ask him.” you say back, with a tilt to your head, your gaze just below his eyes.
“why not?” he asks, but you don’t answer, again repeating your question. “what’s a bj?” your innocent tone tells miguel how you really don’t realise the implications of asking him something like this. your innocence is telling him to tell you. answer your question.
“do you know that it’s an abbreviation?” he asks, his gaze staring at your face a little more focused. you look to the side, sucking part of your lower lip between your teeth before glancing back. “i’m not dumb”
“mhm.” miguel just hums, glancing up at his shut office door, before looking back to you. “why ask me?”
“because i’d think you’d know.” you reply. “many people here know. your friends would know.” miguel states, crossing his arms. “they’d ask questions”
“i’m asking questions.” miguel answers straight away. “yeah but not the invasive ones.” you reply, now tapping at your fingers.
miguel eyes you, more narrowed, more intently. “you want to know what a ‘bj’ is?” miguel asks, now meeting your gaze, but you’re quick to look away. you nod, glancing to the far wall behind him. one word and a tap of his finger at his desk behind him, makes you shift it back. “c’mere.”
you now slide your feet closer, a little hesitant. miguel watches you, not missing one movement. then his hand is behind your head, his fingers in your hair, as he draws you closer. you should have backed away then, said you changed your mind, but you stay still, staring at him.
miguel, with his hand in your hair guides you down onto the floor, on your knees as he mutters. “kneel down.” you’re slightly confused as you look up at him. miguel grabs your hand and guides it to his hard on, that you just now notice at your eye level. your eyes expand as you realise. “you ever done anything with your boyfriend?” miguel asks, his suit beginning to disappear, as he keeps your head held by his hips.
“i…” you can feel your breathing pattern change, as miguel begins pump his already hard cock in one hand. “i’ll take that as a no.” he says, as pre-cum leaks out from his head, as he tilts his head down at you. “open up.” he utters as you gulp, big eyes staring at his tip. he taps under your chin as he lets go of his cock, urging your mouth to open, as you part your lips.
“a bj…” he begins as he pulls your head closer, tapping his cock on your tongue lightly. “is short for blowjob.” he coats your tongue in his pre-cum as you scrunch your hands into fists at your thighs. “is your boyfriend wanting one?” he asks, just looking at the way the white slips around your mouth before he pulls your head closer, your lips being moved to wrap around his head.
you try to speak around his cock, it twitching in your mouth at the vibrations, making him clench his jaw. “just shake your head or nod.” you nod. and that’s when his grip in your hair begins to slowly drag your lips up and down his cock. “hollow your cheeks” he instructs, as you try to do so, getting used to the feeling of a dick in your mouth.
“i don’t know why you’re not asking him, but i won’t ask any ‘invasive’ questions.” miguel says, his hips begin to slowly meet your mouth. you try to copy his movements. the up and down motion, that your head soon picks up. with his grip still in your hair, he notices the way you try to to take him deeper.
you’re soon choking, gagging around his head, as water pricks at your eyes. miguel could’ve warned you, told you about your gag reflex, but selfishly he wanted to see what you’d look like spluttering over his dick. “careful.” he mutters, not sounding very apologetic, as you glance up at him, his hips beginning to move a fraction faster.
miguel taps at your throat. “loosen up.” he says, as his hands pull your head further down, guiding your movements. you try and loosen your throat, having had to swallow all that extra spit. you meet his gaze, worried. but he just strokes your hair “gagging’s fine, cariño. you’ll get used to it.”
he pulls you completely onto him, your nose brushing his pubic hair. you then repeat those up and down movements, clenching your hands back into fists as you gag. “that’s it...” miguel hums, seemingly pleased. you can feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip practically tapping at the back of your throat.
with him stroking your hair, and holding the back of your neck, his abs tighten. he waits till the last second, your head obediently bobbing, before he pulls out, coating your suit-clad chest in white. you’re catching your breath, your cheeks stained in loose tears. miguel still pets your head, pushing the strands of hair out of your eyes, as he glances down at the mess he made, tilting your chin up. “does that…answer your question?”
© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
#. ( spidey mark )#i dunno if this is good#have had a majorrrr writers block#the miguel effect#glitter dose#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel smut#miguel o’hara smut#miguel ohara#miguel ohara smut#spiderverse#atsv#atsv x reader#miguel spiderman#spiderman 2099#atsv smut
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SCREAM 4 ME!
warnings - stalker-ish behaviour from my man connie, possessive and toxic connie, sexual content including: oral (r recieving) spit, pussy slaps and fingering, gore and blood mentioned, cursing, knives reader is black and female!
connie couldn't decide what pissed him off more. the fact that this bitch-made ass white boy was feeling up on you or the fact that you were allowing him to feel up on you.
his tongue poked his inner cheek as he watched the scene infront of him, you on one of the desk in the classroom with eren between your spreaded legs, a hand on your thigh and the other on your waist as he opened his shit pit to say something to you which caused you to turn away your head. it's like he started seeing red, and no it wasn't pink eye.
the sudden urge to walk in the classroom and stab eren in his throat haunted connie's mind as he continued to watch the scene, his jaw clenched shut and his hands turning into fist at the sides allowing the veins that traced his arms to become prominent. his hand reached for the door handle, intending to create the scene he had in mind with bashing eren's head in, until a familiar voice called out his name. turning his head connie comes face to face with armin who wore a concerned look on his face,
"you good, bro?" the blond asked, tilting his head at the male as he looked him up and down, stopping at his tightly clenched fist.
it's as if his whole demeanor changed in a second, face going blank while he shoved his hands in his pocket. armin's eyebrows rose to his forehead as connie nodded his head before walking away, while watching his back armin thought about how unusual his normally out-going friend was being but shaked his head thinking it was simply an overreaction.
the door for the classroom door opened, eren walked out before you did, pushing pass armin with an odd look on his face.
armin's eyebrows rose further, wondering what the fuck was up with everyone today and why you two were in that classroom to begin with. "what's wrong with him?" he asked as you wrapped your hands around yourself, looking down at your black and white converse.
you shrug in response to his question leaving armin left in the dark yet again, it was like he wasn't even your bestfriend anymore, like you didn't even trust him anymore.
but he gets it, with what's been going on in the past few weeks he wouldn't trust anyone either, but he was still your friend—or was he?
armin couldn't keep track anymore.
with a huff, armin adjusts the books he held in his hand, looking away from you and down the hall where connie stormed off to. "well, whatever you two were doing in there, connie saw and he looks pretty pissed." at this you look up, your eyes wide and your plump lips parted, the expression only confusing armin even more.
"w-what? do you know where he went?" you stammer, looking around as if you could catch sight of the brown eyed male. the blonde infront of yoou doesn't give you a verbal responce, simply raising his hand and pointing in the direction he saw connie disappear in. you mumble a quiet 'thanks' before running off in the direction he pointed it, desperate to find the boy.
breathing heavily you rest your body against a wall after having ran all over the school in search of connie and being unsucessful in your search. your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket and you take it out, seeing a text from an unknown number.
can't wait to make u scream.
your eyebrows draw together at the text just as a ping comes in, the number sends another text but this time it's a picture. a picture of you leaning against a wall, the exact wall you were leaning on now.
slipping your phone in your back pocket you look around expression twisting in one of fear, "this isn't funny." you say outloud to no one in particular, pushing off the wall and walking away quickly.
you could feel the hair on your arms standing up, as well as your hands shaking as you placed them in the pocket of your hoodie, heart racing rapidly when you started hearing heavy footsteps behind you not daring to turn around.
the footsteps behind you sped up, and as they did so did your breathing and the beat of your heart, your throat went dry as you grew terrified of who—or what was behind you. you turned your head at the side a little to finally get a glimpse of who was behind you only to see exactly what you hoped not to.
a cloaked figure, with a blade and a mask.
you started running, taking in little gasps for air every now and then, tears building up at your lashline and your feet begining to burn in your high-top converses.
'why me?' was all you could think as the figure started running after you, close on your heel. you had never troubled anyone and kept to yourself for most of your highschool years, so you didn't understand why this mysterious serial killer was coming after you of all persons.
sure the killer killed a few of your friends, but they were all assholes who had beef with everybody, and you weren't like them. you had conflict with no one—-being the most liked girl in school.
so why you?
a squeak fell from your lips as you bumped into a large figure, almost falling on your ass before a sturdy arm came out grasp your waist. you look up to your savior only to come face to face with eren, his face morphing into one of concern as his teal eyes flickered up and down your face. pink lips parted for a split second before closing again when you grasp his shirt and pull him into a nearby closet.
eren looked down at you with furrowed brows, parting his lips to speak again but being cut off by your fingers pressed against his lips, listening for the sound of the heavy footsteps. his hands that found their way to your waist, jade eyes boring into you as you looked at the door expectingly. with a sigh you remove your finger from eren's lips, nibbling on your own as you looked up at him.
he raises and eyebrow, "what's up?" although he's confused, the tone of his voice is soft and comforting and it causes you to lean your head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. his arms come to wrap around you tenderly, offering you the comfort you need and signaling you to rest your body against his. the look on his face is one of concern as he kisses your head top and rubs your back.
"t-they were chasing me eren." you whisper. too afraid to talk any louder in case 'they' might hear you.
"who?" your about to answer his question when the door of the janitor closet is flung open, the cloaked figure from before standing at the door, knife glinting dangerously as he raises it with a tilted head.
"me."
a 'slash' is sounded through the air when the killer brings the knife down, plunging it into eren's shoulder. screaming you push the figure, feeling the hard muscles underneath his coat flex beneath your finger tips as he's caught off guard and stumbles outside of the closet. it gives you enough time to close the door again, a broken cry leaves your lips as the killer begins to bang on the door furiously before a knife appears right above your arm, slicing it a bit.
you keep a firm grip on the door handle as the killer continues to bang on the door and pierce it with his knife that was painted with erens blood, tears run down your face as you watch him groaning against the wall, blood coating each of his pretty fingers. eren makes eye-contact with you before walking over to you with his hand still pressed against the wound, a hiss leaving his lips as he places his hand over yours to help keep the door in place.
"eren no y-your hurt." you whisper with a shake of your head, but make no move to push him away from the door as the banging intensifies, you only watch as his brown hair frames his pretty face as he tilts his head and gives you a pained smile. "m'okay, promise princess."
you start praying.
praying that someone will hear the loud bangings and notice the physcopath that stands outside of the door with his bloody knife and murderous intentions. your palms began to get sore and your legs feel wobbly from the fear that runs through your vains, the cut on your arm suddenly makes itself known as it begans to pulse with an unbearable pain. you wonder how eren feels if your scratch hurts so bad, you wonder if you'll make it out alive.
a shrill ring echos throughout the walls of the closet, and the banging pauses. you look at eren and he looks at you, both of you waiting with baited breaths for something to happen, your heart beating through your ears.
the sound of multiple footsteps and talking in the halls causes you to lean your body against the door with a shaky sigh, your hands shaking as you moved to open the door wincing at the feeling of sore palms against the metal.
it takes five seconds for people to notice you and eren, sly remarks on the tip of their tongues until someone pointed out the obvious.
"they're fucking bleeding! someone get help!"
an arm wraps around your middle and your hands come into contact with a sturdy chest, eyes meeting with one of a familiar honey colour.
his freckled face had twisted up with a look of 'concern'. pretty pink plump lips downturned into a frown, and his forehead frowned as his thick eyebrows drew together, "what the fuck happened?" connie asks, the question sounding so aggressive but his touch was gentle and soft as he rubbed circles in your waist and held your injured arm.
you couldn't even tell he was lying, taking that glint in his eye for worry. how could you be so fucking naive?
you don't respond, only wrapping your arms around his neck and burrying your face in his shoulder, letting all your tears flow not caring that you were getting his white t-shirt wet.
connie's hands find their way to your back, rubbing it soothingly. his lips twitching at your attention, eyes dragging up to meet eren who looked at him with a blank look. he only tilted his head, looking the brunette up and down once before pulling away from you, his warm and large hands cupping your face, eyes glittering with warmth—drawing you in deep.
"c'mon, lets get you patched up, mama."
your fingers traced figures on connies chest as you rested your head against his torso, giggling when he grunted cause you traced your finger over his nipple. eyes never leaving his pretty face, taking note of ever single detail on it. how it slightly glowed under the light of the tv, how his lashes almost otuched his cheek, how his pretty pink lips were jutted out in a frown-like manner, how his botton nose scrunched up when one of the characters on the tc said some dumb shit—silver stud shining with the tv light.
he can feel your gaze burning the side of his face, when he looks down he see's your pretty eyes gazing up at him as you do that shit with your pretty plump lips slightly parted,nibbling on your lower lips, that same expression you make when you want something from him.
"you watchin me or the movie?" he sasses, pinching your side.
you smile prettily, looking at the tv to see the killer chasing the pretty girl with a machete in his hand, and looking back at connie fluttering your lashes at him. "that shit makes my screen crawl, rather watch you and get my pussy wet."
a sound that sounds dangerously close to a whimper falls from connie lips, his eyes getting glossy and low as he stares at you with his lips parted, wetting them with his tongue while he looked away staring at the tv. he bit his lips as he looked back at you, cheeks heating up and his underwear suddenly feeling tight.
"you can keep talking your shit, im not fucking you with your crippled ass arm." he says, giggling at the offended expression you now wore. you push up off of him, folding your arms across your chest and staring a head of you instead of at him. "so I get one little injury and im crippled? ian even wanna fuck you anyways nigga-"
an arm is wrapped around your throught before you can even finish your sentence, it's warm and it causes you to push your thighs together as you suddenly feel your panties getting slightly damp. connie's expression not helping your situation at all, pink lips quirked up into a smirk and honeyed eyes were glossed over and dark with lust.
it made your body warm and tingly, heat making it's way to your face when he pulls you on top of him, his lips brushing against yours but not quite touching them while his nose rubbed against yours, allowing you to feel the piercing that sat on top of it.
"whatchu say?" he whispers, eyes holding a mischevious look as he looked at you, hands squeezing your ass. "nothin." you mumble, growing bashful from all the attention he was giving you. connie smiled smugly, rubing his nose against yours. "mmm, that's what I thought you said."
you couldn't even get to respond as his plushy lips were mashed against yours, lips smacking together as you both made out messily, almost devouring each other.
the taste of his lips was addicting, and you couldn't get enough, sucking his tongue and listening to the sweet whimpers he lets out at the mere action.
connie's hands find there place on your hips as you begin to roll yourself against his hips, feeling the tip of his dick beneath his sweatpants bump against your clit with each grind of your hips. your hands grazed his nape as you continued to move against him, smiling at the groan he let out.
"(★)," he pauses as your pussy runs over his cock once more, grunting at the feeling. "s-shit, mama stop doing that."
his voice is deep and whiny, it holds a tone of desperation but restraint. the muscle in his jaw ticks as he holds you waist in place, slouching against the couch and taking deep breaths before giving you a stern look.
"im not about to fuck you when your injured," you know he means it from the look he gives you, and it makes your pretty lips tip down in a frown, pushing off of him to sit down on the couch not laying on his chest anymore.
you can feel his eyes burn holes in the side of your face as you keep your eyes on the tv, suddenly intrested in the man using a chainsaw to slice through the girl while she was still alive.
"okay."
it goes quiet after that, connie only continues to stare at you, guilt pooling at his stomach as he continued to stare at you. licking his lips, he sighs and slouches more in the couch, running a hand down his face before looking back at you.
connie knows all you really want is his comfort, especially after what happened—but he's still upset that you made eren touch on his body like that. he knows all you want is a distraction from everything, but he has to punish you a little.
but maybe he can punish you and pleasure you at the same time.
a boy-ish smile makes it way to connie's face show-casing his pretty dimples, the look is almost innocent, but his eyes clear up the whole 'innocent' act, showing clear signs that man was about to fucking devour you.
the tap that's delievered to your thigh causes you to look up, a shudder goes down your spine as your eyes meet connie's glossed over ones, full to the brim with lust like you would be in a few minutes.
"what?" you say it so meekly, it makes connie's grin widen.
in a quick motion, your back is pressed against the couch, mout falling open to let out a gasp whilst connie holds unto your legs, spreading them open.
"connie--" your words are cut off by him pressing a kiss to your pussy, face heating up as it flutters from the simple action, "lay down and lemme eat your pussy." he mumbles, mouth still pressed against your clothed cunt, a hand pressing against your stomach as you attempted to sit up.
"b-but you said," he drags your sweatpants down in one big swoop, throwing the sweatpants over hs shoulder in a wuick motion, tongue swipping at the corner of his lips, hazel brown eyes glaring at the wet spot in your panties with an almost anger look on his face. "know what the fuck I said, don't lemme have to tell you to lay your ass down again mami." your arousal almost floods your panties hazardly, your brownskin suddenly feeling hot as you looked away from him to watch the tv as a distraction only for the screen to go turn black.
a hand is wrapped around your throat again, turning you to face connie, his nose against your cheek as he kisses you, pulling away for a second allowing you to feel the tiny huffs of air he lets out. "ion want you watching anything, or anyone else but me." he whispers squeezing your neck a little before pressing his lips against yours.
your overwhelmed by him, feeling him touch you all over your body. squeezing, fondling, kissing. it was getting to you, your pussy specifically, and you couldn't help but want him to live under your skin.
he quickly takes off your panties, smirking giddly as he places them in the pocket of his sweatpants. your plush and wet pussy now on display for him, hole fluttering every now and then around nothing but air.
"shit ma, you so wet..." he sucks in a breath as he brushes a finger over your clit, your body jerked in reaction.
he gives you one last kiss on your pussy, finally leaning down and placing a his lips on your warmth.
wet muscle is felt moving up and down on your pussy before connie's mouth encloses on your clit, gently taking the bud into his mouth and sucks on it.
"pussy taste so fucking good," he mumbles, mouth still on your pussy, the deep vibration of his voice sending chills throughout your whole body. your hands grip his head as he continues to make-out with your pussy, eyes almost crossing from how good he was making you feel. "mm, connie."
"yeah, that's right say my fucking name mama, gonna have you screaming for me in a minute."
too fucked out and lost in the pleasure, you don't even take heed to his words, only focused on the feeling of his mouth working against your pussy like magic, gripping his head harder, the spiky hair of his buzzcut not bothering you one bit.
your back arches off the couch with a gasp as connie unexpectedly pushes a finger in you, his mouth still on your pussy as his slender fingers curl inside of your spongey walls causing you toes to curl in ecstasy. connie only smirked as you begin grinding unto his face, fingers thrusting in and out of you, finding the perfect rhythm to drive you over the edge. "feels so good con," your voice is breathy and high as you whisper out the words, holding unto connie as if your life depend on it.
"yeah?" he asked, licking his lips, hooded hazel eyes connecting with yours from between your parted legs, fingers never stopping once. "you gonna cum for me?"
"uh huh." a hiccup left you, tempting connie to smile once more as he increased the speed of his fingers, his plump pink lips attaching themselves back to your cunt.
he swirls his tongue around your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, watching with awe at the creamy clear liquid that encases his fingers.
as he continued you could feel the knot in your stomach quickly tightening, about to snap at any given time,your back arched off of the seat of the couch, thighs shaking as your vision became blurry with tears.
"gonna cum, connie m' gonna c-cum slow down!" you whine, trying to push a away his head. you freeze at the look he gives you, having no time to think about it as your orgasm washes ov4er you like a heavy wave.
connie doesn't stop as you cum, slurping you up as if you were his last meal. he only stops when he witnesses the trembling of your thighs, sitting up and giving you a kiss on your cheek before leaving the room.
"where you goin?" you mumble with a hoarse voice, lifting up your body to watch the muscles of his back move as he walks, he stops and looks at you over his shoulder.
"gon get you some water." you mumble a soft okay in responce before leaning back in against the cushion behind you, hissing as you felt something hard poke you in your back.
"this fool don't ever know how to clean up right." you mumble as you lift the pillow,
the item beneath it causes you to pause your movements, your plump lips parting in shock as confusion and fear ran through your veins.
a ghostface masked laid beneath the pillow, a speck of blood on the cheek that almost stared at you mockingly. you place a hand over your mouth as you felt tears make it's way to your lashline, your body backing up off of the couch and causing you to fall.
"ma?" the sound of connie's voice causes you to freeze, and you hurridely get up off of the floor and move away from him. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked you up and down, "wha-"
"you’re r ghostface." a shudder goes throughout your body at the blank look he gives you, his head turning to look at the mask on the couch befor elooking back up at you with a sigh. he places the water he carried on the table, you watch his every move carefully, making sure he doesn't get too close to you.
"ma, c'mere." he says, putting his hands in his pockets, his honey coloured eyes staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.
"no."
his jaw tightens at your responce, head tilting as he runs his tongue over his teeth.
"m' not gonna ask again." it was almost like a threat, and it only scared you more.
your heart almost felt like it was about to fail as you stared at connie for a few seconds before running towards the door.
dumb fucking move.
a hand suddenly yanks you back, making your back rest against connie's sturdy chest.you draw in a brreath as a knife is suddenly placed at your throat, slowly tilting your head up so you could meet connie's eyes.
they glinted dangerously, somehow holding you captive. "don't fucking run from me, you crazy baby?" his words caused your breath to hitch, your legs shaking with fear as you looked up at him.
"don't try that shit again, you hear me?" you nod your head slowly causing connie to let out a hiss, shaking his head. "words mama, know you know them."
"I head you con." you say, tears filling your eyes.
connie licked his lips, showing off his dimples as he smiled at your obedience.
"good girl, and if you try that shit again, ima make you scream."
#connie x reader#x black reader#aot x black reader#attack on titan#aot#aot x reader#aot connie#connie x black reader#connie springer#connie smut#connie x black y/n#anime x black!reader#black yn#black reader#black y/n#attack on titan x black reader#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan smut#connie springer x black reader#aot x you#writtenbyjae🧘🏾♀#aot🌟
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୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝓑𝓡𝓞𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓡 𝓕𝓤𝓒𝓚𝓔𝓡, sukuna ryomen !
boyfriend’s older brother!sukuna. while little bro yuji spits up his liquor in the bathroom, sukuna takes care of his girl, finally fucking her like she deserves.
ಇ. summary. sukuna brother au, fem reader, infidelity, yuji throws up so emeto. warning, manipulation, pussy slapping, biting, some predator/prey elements, size kink, dumbification, squirting, reader is intoxicated but aware, rough kuna but he switches up:3, regret/moral conflict, angst towards the end cuz ‘m a certified yapper. wc, 4.6k.
ಇ. note. been a whore for sukuna lately but i fully blame gege for drawing him so majestic. if evil then why gorgeous, hm??? we’re onto u gege. we know u love a felon. confess already.
the door to the itadori household bursts open and in floods a typhoon of drunken chaos and laughter.
drowning in giggles, yuji has his arm thrown over your aching shoulders, humming along to some kind of song. without you, he wouldn't be upright—a jumbling, intoxicated mess.
you're mostly sober, fighting to get him to the bathroom since he was heaving in the taxi.
"whyyy do ya build me upp~" he slurs, a bumbling flurried version of himself, smothering your cheek in wet kisses that have you wriggling away. "butterrrcuppp baby, jus' t'let me downnn...!"
"yuji!" you shriek, the weight of him growing more unbearable as you try to keep him up. his breath is drenched with the heavy scent of liquor. "baby, y'gotta focus or we're not gonna make it to the—"
"—and mess m'rounddd!"
"yuji—'nuff!" you groan loudly as he drapes himself over. at this rate, you might just collapse into a heap on the floor, overcome by his weight as well as the lesser, still relevant amount of alcohol you consumed at the club.
suddenly, the patter of footsteps have you perking up. sukuna—yuji's big brother—rounds the corner, gaunt features sharp with agitation. he must've woken up when the two of you came barreling in.
"sukuna—hi," you can't help the relief that bursts through your chest, evident in the way you exhale.
sukuna notes the way your knees tremble, his brother blabbering embarrassingly on top of you. he puts aside the urge to laugh, figuring he'd spare you just this once.
"here. i got 'im." without any trouble, sukuna drags his little brother under his arm, putting your strength to shame. with the weight lifted, you finally have chance to relax, rolling your arm and letting out a loud sigh of relief.
"thank you. ow—pain."
you stumble, and the broader of the two brothers chuckles, crimson gaze soaking up your body in that dress while you're distracted. "you carried him all the way home?"
"mhm. practically sprawled out on my lap in the taxi. the driver and i had to team up to get him outta there," you whine as you kick off your heels. those stupid things had you wincing terribly most of the night. yuji said they were sexy. as much as you love him, you’re more than sure you will not be wearing them again anytime soon.
"you should've called me." sukuna's features scrunch in disgust as yuji keeps singing in his hold.
"i-i-i neeeeed youu~"
"fuckin' a, did he drink the whole bar?"
"pretty much," you reply, shrugging off your coat and following behind the pair of brothers. yuji looks so funny, almost small despite his lean stature, looking deceivingly short compared to sukuna. "he made a bet with todo and lost."
the sober man grunts as he knocks open the bathroom door, holding up yuji in his other arm. his muscles flex underneath his shirt, stretching the dark cotton, where your eyes briefly linger.
you avert your attention to yuji instead, amusement melting into concern for your boyfriend.
not sharing the same sentiment, sukuna drops him down by the toilet, putting up the lid with a smack and purposely shoving yuji's head into the bowl a little harder than necessary. "theree ya go, dumbass," sukuna grunts, slapping his back as he finally pukes up. "just barely made it."
and you're sure glad he did, thanking the gods your dress had been spared amidst the drama. with the way he'd been acting, you were never sure that you would be safe from the bile climbing his throat, cringing fearfully at times.
you feel much better now that sukuna has taken over. he's older, well-versed in trivial matters like this. yuji's already told you all about his university days, the drunken nights, the fighting—
you curse your thoughts for sprawling so suddenly, shooing off your rodent-like curiosity.
their relationship struggled at times. especially so back then, but things are different now. and as much as sukuna pretends not to care for his little brother, he clearly does, at least a little. after all, the pink tresses of your boyfriends hair are ruffled in his thick hand before he lets go fully.
then sukuna walks on in a rugged stride, leaving yuji to it. on the way out, he knocks your shoulder with his. you can't tell if the action was playful, but you’re sure it wasn't hostile, at least. a little smile creeps onto your lips as your gaze follows him into the kitchen.
sukuna is weird.
he's weird because he's not like yuji in most ways; it's not necessarily a bad thing, but he's much, much harder to see through. with your boyfriend, most things are crystal clear. you can tell what he wants, what he needs, how he needs it. he'll tell you all about it—unselfishly, of course.
however, sukuna, you find, never reads so easily. and it's weird. you can't tell if you prefer it that way, or if you'd rather know what he's thinking.
especially since you're certain you just caught his eyes slithering along your curves.
anyway.
wanting to give yuji some privacy, you pull the door shut, the sound of his gags growing muffled. you half-jog-half-limp to the kitchen, preparing a glass of cold water to ease his throat once it's all over.
unbothered, sukuna leans his back against the counter, scrolling on his phone like this is just another night to him. it's weird.
you start wondering, drawing up the conclusion that this might be first time you and him have ever been alone, in a way. yuji is there, but not really, if you know what i mean. not mentally, anyway.
before you can finish that thought, you deliver the glass to yuji, crouching down to his level and rubbing his back with careful affection. "got you some water, baby. right here, by your hand." you take it gently, guiding it towards the glass.
he's not throwing up so much now, just laying there, waiting for the next wave of nausea to crash over him. his fingers respond to the glass, wrapping around it. "thanks, hic—y're so good t'me..."
you smile warmly, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. you couldn't care less that he reeks of all kinds of concoctions and puke all rolled up together, wanting to be there for him regardless as you know he would for you.
you whisper a few more reassuring words to him before taking your leave, giving him some time to recover by himself. the bathroom door clicks shut. forgetting all about the third party, you let your back press against it, head jilting as a sigh slips out.
"he worn ya down that much?" sukuna snorts at the display, looking up from his phone.
despite your initial surprise, you laugh too. "he doesn't usually. it's just... been a busy night, i guess. i think he'll pass out in there."
sukuna briefly dips his head into the fridge, getting out a chartreuse-tinted bottle of something. "one would hope. you want one?"
"you're being weirdly nice." you blurt suspiciously, smirking. oh god. maybe the alcohol was starting to work you over, too, because you definitely weren't supposed to say that. sometimes it's better not to ask, someone told you once.
sukuna pulls a face that makes you wish you could crawl out of your skin on command, even though there's technically logic behind your last words.
"am i usually mean?"
"n-no, i just mean—" fuck, stop talking. with growing embarrassment, you shake your head, "nothing. sorry. that was assumptive."
the way you initially scrambled to answer appealed to some wicked humor in him as he laughed. "yeah, it was. so yes or no?"
"yes," you sigh, shoulders slumping in admission, knowing you probably needed it. especially after whatever that was. your head is pounding—god, someone should put me down.
sukuna opens up your bottle with his teeth as you hop up on the counter, watching each other. all had gone quiet behind you. sukuna handed you the drink with the lid still between his teeth, venom swirling in his eyes when he saw the way yours lingered on the gesture.
slowly, you took the bottle, pressing the rim up to your lips before taking a sip. it bubbles in your mouth, sparkling on your tongue before you swallow it down. the burn is a little unpleasant, but you manage.
"any good?" sukuna asks.
"'s okay," you shrug, reading the bottle, pretending like any of it made sense. "a little bitter."
"you like 'em sweet?" the taller man frowns, sorting through the cupboards for something that you're too immersed to ask about.
"kinda. but too much makes me sick," you explain, scrunching your nose at the thought. "i like a balance."
"oh, really?" sukuna snorts as if you've just said the funniest thing in the world.
in one confused motion, you lower your brows. and jilt your head, wondering what's with the sudden jest. "yeah, uh... is that funny?"
sukuna raises his brows, shaking his head, some glasses clinking. "no, not funny. nothin's funny."
he really knows how to make a person feel small, you'd give him that much.
you avert your gaze, heart crawling up into your cheeks. "okay, well..."
"what about you?" he interjects, sparking up another tiny bit of annoyance in you again. not that you knew what you were gonna say anyways. it most likely would've been embarrassing anyway, making you shrink even more, wanting yuji to come out already—
"what about me?" you wonder, your voice meeker than before. curious and cautious, tip-toeing around his words. is there something you're hiding?
"are you the sticking-around or screwing-around type?"
"oh, right," you laugh, making sense of his question. it's big one, though. kind of sprung on you. still, you manage to respond, just telling him what you know while glowing with intoxication, "well, we've only been going out a couple months."
you're more focused on the way he's watching you than you are on actually answering. his eyes are sharp and torrid in comparison to his little brother's, and the way he gazes down rather than looks at you has something in you stirring, writihing hotly beneath your skin.
it's exciting. why is it exciting? there's a giddiness that gyres in the pit of your gut like a ballerina, pirouettes and grands jetés, heat cooking and simmering through your veins. it's terrible. it's weird.
"well, you can't blame me for being protective." sukuna shrugs. "he seems to really like you."
while what he's saying rings true, there's a chord slightly off-key, something askew that you can't place. is he closer than before?
you ignore it, trying on a smile. "well, feeling's mutual."
you take another sip from the bottle, the cool rim settling on your lips, sparks igniting on your tongue, the same routine replaying. you don't even think before adding gleefully, "and he's like, a jazillion times more sane than my last boyfriend, so i'm happy."
"are you?" sukuna asks, serious.
it was like flipping a switch. he was laughing, now he's earnest, and you were just entirely confused, his meaning lost on you, like you're the last in line in a game of chinese whispers. he caught you off guard with that one. and he knows it, too, carmine eyes feasting on your discomfort.
your smile falters slightly before you nod. "yeah."
"okay." he just says.
now you were really starting to get pissed off with him. whatever he's doing, it's stupid. he might as well have you cornered, except you've done nothing wrong, and yet he's prancing around you with a tone of prolific doubt. as if he knows something about you that you yourself don't.
"what?" you demand, equally serious now, smile wiped clean off. the air turns thick.
sukuna shrugs his shoulders again and you swear you have to fight off a sneer. "nothing."
is he casting doubt on your love for yuji? is that what this is? is he trying to tell you you're not good enough for him? that even though you trudged half a mile in those huge stupid heels just because he said they looked hot on you—carrying his dead weight, might i add, as he was screeching a song you'd never heard in your ear—that all of that was just for laughs, and there were no real feelings behind those actions? is that seriously what he's getting at?
sukuna wants to laugh so bad. your face is all screwed up, cheeks puffed out and burning a deep red. oh, how it fuels him. your stubbornness, that endearing naivety that clings to you like all your modest perfumes, the one that lingers in yuji's room, occasionally in his clothes, infecting every dark corner of his mind—and now you know how it feels to be tortured by him.
"you want some water?" the man asks casually. your mind is on fire, your thoughts more blaring than you would probably think. it's written all over you.
his question makes your shoulders drop, feeling stupid all over again. what are you getting so worked up for? you're secure in your feelings for yuji. as his brother, sukuna has every right to feel concern for him. there really is no need for you to be acting like this.
he's playing you like a damn flute.
"yes, please." you answer a lot more softly, pulling your hair around to one side. you'd been bratty without cause, assumptive, again. you really need to stop mischaracterizing him. after all, he's no monster. "i think all the drinks are finally getting to my head a little."
he starts filling up a glass, grinning at you over his shoulder, mischief playing in his slanted-eyes. "oh, don't tell me you were expecting anything bottled. tap's the best y're gonna get from us. hope you can handle it."
a smile works onto your lips as you finally start to loosen up again, legs swinging gently off the side of the counter. playing along, you wince. "oh yeah, well, i usually only drink expensive, you know, mineral-rich—"
"yeah."
he's suddenly between your legs, his mouth devouring your own, swallowing the terrified noise that begs to escape. for a moment, you're frozen in shock, eyes widening as you palms meet his chest in a forceful attempt at creating space.
sukuna juts back, forced away from you. his eyes crack open but are still like slits, dark, crawling with lust you hadn't previously noticed—no, acknowledged, because the choice has always been there.
he relishes in the terror that brims in your eyes at his visceral kiss. it feels natural, but not in the tender, motherly sense. like predator devouring prey. the natural order of life.
his hands are hot, gripping onto your thighs, digging into the tights he could easily rip to shreds, giving him full access to your warm cunt, to ruin you.
and yet he doesn't.
he waits for your eyes to droop, for you to lunge at him, accepting this twisted spiral of events, indulging his darkness. teeth clicking, tongues meeting messily in a sloppy kiss, drool gathering between you both as you crash together all at once, a train wreck of carnality. sukuna's hands are all over you, groping, slashing at the crotch of your tights. you gasp into his mouth as cold air meets the sobbing wetness of your cunt, followed by a slap to it.
"f-fuck! hey, who said you could—hmff!" you yelp as his hand clamps over your mouth suddenly, his scarlet eyes narrowing.
"brat, watch ya fuckin' mouth." sukuna warns as you grapple with him. his tattoos look especially menacing then, chiseling his features. "he's drunk. not deaf."
you nod, trying to tell him you understand. he releases your lips in an instant only to seize them again in his so forcefully.
yuji would never—could never take you like this, and you fucking know it. you know it with every gnaw, every squash of your tits that leaves you whining like a bitch in heat, every bite against your neck where you can feel the outline of his brother's teeth and a short gush of crimson.
rationality is lost on you as you mindlessly rut against him, your hands running up and down his back until you start tugging on his pants, eager to rid him of them.
meanwhile, sukuna's making a meal out of you—you make up half of his size, giving him complete control to do as ever he pleases.
every whine is met with a grunt. his cock must have been freed at some point as you feel his greedy hands lift you against him, your chests meeting, the sharp cold of the counter leaving your ass and feeling his palms spread you apart instead.
nothing could prepare you for the suddenness of which he fills you—you scream, half openly, half having shoved your face into his shoulder—aware his brother, your lover, is passed out over the toilet in the other room.
"shh, shh—fuckin' shit!" sukuna groans, features curling in erotic bliss.
he gluts you in ways yuji never has, the ways he'll never dare—with such cruel, carnal demand, to the brim, unkind, violent, and so, so fucking good.
as he breaches your womb, you claw his back raw through his shirt. a sob rips through you. sukuna does his best to keep you quiet. "shh... fuck. yer so fuckin' tight, girl. relax."
"t-tryin'... 'm so full..." you whine, eyes misting over with tears. it feels too good, you think...
"i know—" sukuna chokes, barely lifting you up on his cock, feeling your walls spasm around him. "fuck, what ya cryin' for?"
he feels too good.
"d-don't move yet, i'll cum," you gasp, and he hasn't even tried—sukuna's expression blanches.
"already?" he bursts out laughing in his brutish way, the side that yuji lacked entirely as the nicest person you've ever known; fuck. the humiliation makes your cunt squeeze again.
he lifts you up, your knees draped over his thick arms, foreheads meeting. your breaths intertwine, hot and treacherous, caressing each other's faces.
"ya know, i've fuckin' heard you, all those times."
"wh-what?" you stammer cluelessly, only half there, clinging to sukuna as he dangles you on his cock, your eyes crossing when he starts to bounce you on him.
"said i fuckin' heard you, you 'n yuji—'n shit, ya never got this loud, huh?" he smirks wickedly, feeling your body collapse hopelessly against him. he fucks you up and down on him, swallowing up your pathetic moans and whines like they were the last noise he'd ever hear. "been wanting to take ya like this, stretch yer dumb little cunt on me, fuckk—ya got no fuckin' idea, princess."
rocking up and down, you wail, head bobbing. sukuna can just see your little maw dangling open—it takes everything in him not to jam his fucking fingers in your throat until you drool and splutter around him.
"y—you wanted—this?" you struggle, feeling too good to make sense of anything, to think straight, to do anything other than take every rough kiss to your cervix, feeling your insides bruise and swell with lucid excitements.
"lemme guess, the brat cums too soon—never quite gets ya there, hm?" sukuna guesses correctly, making you whine and nod and babble.
"h-how did y—ah, fuck—!" he snapped his hips, picking up the speed as you wept on him. you'd never been fucked like this in your life, and your world was getting flipped on its head. when did your dress come down? you weren't sure—but now your tits were bouncing and sukuna wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity to tear into them.
"cuz, 's just obvious," sukuna rasps, teeth clamping down on your raised nipple, "can tell this sloppy pussy ain't gettin' treated right. not when she's—shit—creamin' all over me jus' from stickin' it in."
"'k—kuna, don't—ahh! fuck!"
"that's it girl, shit, c'mon," sukuna keeps picking you back up only to drop all your weight on his fat cock, his balls slapping against your ass, the slick you're gushing causing them to stick together.
your head is empty, devoid of anything except the chaos, the suddenness of it all, the shock, he's fucking you. your boyfriend's older brother is fucking you, and you've never felt so goddamn good.
there's this sudden wave. a wetness. an explosive feeling that crashes over you in one swift, predatory pounce. like when a deer gets suddenly ripped apart. your head straight up drops on sukuna's shoulder, and you're sobbing loudly, babbling words that can't be defined.
then all of a sudden, sukuna outright cackles; the sound bleeds into your ringing ears, head picking up off of his shoulder.
"no fuckin' way!" he roars with laughter. you wanna shush him, but you can't move—your nerve ends are all bursting to life, like fruitful grapes popping between two fingers. it's happening again, whatever that feeling is, whelming you; this time you his fingers rub back and forth harshly across your clit, but wait—
"dumb lil pussy's squirtin' already, hahh, shit—fuckin' christ, girl—" he's enamored, watching you cum in adorable little spurts, soaking his clothes, your tights, and the kitchen floor, covering everything in your stupid juices.
"you wanted this, goddamn—look at you."
your eyes are rolled back as he kisses you again, fingers tearing into your scalp, the lewd sound of your lips smacking together filling the air.
never in your fucking life. you'd never came like that, so violently, so carelessly, not without really, really trying. all sukuna had to do was pump you up and down on his cock, say a few words and you were spraying like a tap. how fucking pathetic.
and then he does it again. drags another one out of you, laughing.
you barely catch his next words.
"'m gonna fuckin' cum in ya."
"n—no—" you stumble out, barely coming to at the words, but their enough to fill you with at least some urgency. your ass is bruised at the back from being repeatedly slammed against the counter, the wind knocked out of you entirely. "d-don't, wait, you can't—"
"why the fuck not, hah?" sukuna rumbles. "don't tell me it's cuz'a—"
"—yuji," you sob.
it hits you. it hits you then, hard, at the worst time. a gut-punch, one that makes you heave. in less than half a second, a guilt strong enough to set your skin alight cultivates and wrecks each single sense. his cologne invades your nostrils, an imaginary sensation, forced to breathe its natural, tender nature as opposed to sukuna's harsh and crude and brooding one, the one you're drowning in. the one sticking to your skin.
your hand—finally letting go of sukuna's shoulder, where you were keeping yourself stable—slaps over your mouth, tears springing into your eyes.
"f—fuck, fuck, fuck!" sukuna chants, eyes scrunching as he gets lost in the pleasure. he's pounding you, knocking your eyes back still, not slowing his pace for anything. your leg flails once, but how can you fight when he's holding you up like this?
"'s—'kuna," you choke out brokenly, slapping his chest with whatever strength you can muster. your lip quivers, heart aching in your chest as you plead tearfully, "don't."
he'd never been considerate. he'd never 'made love'. not even now. he fucked. he lied, he slipped off condoms, he 'forgot' to pull out, all so many times before. it was clockwork to him. he could've easily done it again. lied. been selfish. blurred the lines. cheated consent.
put a baby in his little brother's whore girlfriend.
and yet sukuna weirdly found himself pulling out of you last second, one hand holding you up while the other jerked his cock until thick ropes of cum splattered up your dress with a strained grunt. his orgasm spoils at it hits, a rough ecstasy that's tattered along the edges and ultimately, ultimately unsatisfying. it barely scratches the surface. the heat of it hasn't even started leaving his body before he wants more, regrets not filling you up, every cell inside him clawing for it, starved and fucking addicted.
sukuna almost, almost crushes you against the island, dropping you on the counter again where your drenched cunt feels like it's been electrocuted when met with the cold so suddenly. you gasp, arching into him, searching for any kind of warmth.
but he rips away from you, turning his back. his touch is gone as soon as it came. any desire flatlines, ringing loudly, blaring in your sensitive ears. alarm bells.
what is this?
both your chests are heaving. there's no afterglow. it's messy, dirty, frantic. cheap. depraved.
and it seems like you aren't the only one.
"s-sukuna, i—"
CLICK.
lips snapping shut, you sit right up, head whipping around in the most deafeningly guilty sense ever. heart in your throat, your expression echoes one of pure horror, one you expect will reflect your boyfriend's when he realizes what's going on here.
yuji stumbles out of the bathroom, his mop of pink hair tousled and eyelids low. he hangs by the doorframe for several seconds, his head dropped, not even looking up. it takes only a few steps. they're slow, clumsy, lead him to the bedroom door. he doesn't notice. he doesn't notice.
his older brother and his girlfriend are feet away, covered in squirt and sperm and other dirty secrets. shame. guilt. some more than others.
and he just blunders into the bedroom, a loud 'thump', telling you that he made it to bed.
all you do is stare. your jaw stays slack.
you hear a zipper and, frazzled, quickly flit your head at sukuna. he's fixing his clothes, not paying you any mind.
you stare at his back, despairing.
"wh—you're just gonna...?" you stammer incredulously, trying to do the same but there's no fixing the gaping hole in your tights that reaches down to your mid thighs.
away from his gaze, him cum settles against the fabric of your torn up dress, pooling slowly in its place.
his cock, hardly soft, twitches again, urging his need. he ends up frozen for a moment, simply staring, before he numbly moves forward.
he leaves, leaving you sat on the counter as he storms out into the night, slamming the front door behind him.
you're alone there, stunned, cum up your dress that is almost but not quite your boyfriend's, the floor below you soaked, and a heartbeat in every part of your body.
trembling, you push yourself off of the counter.
vaguely aware of the layout of the house, you scramble to find some wipes and clean up the mess on the floor. after that, it takes at least 10 minutes to get the semen out of your dress, but even then, you feel filthy.
you sniffle over the sink, scrubbing soapy suds into your tainted skin. wanting to throw up.
what the fuck had you done?
you'd cheated. that's it. you cheated on the sweetest angel, your angel, yuji. the one entirely too gentle and trusting for this world. you betrayed him. a sob rips through you, shattering your core.
stupid, stupid, stupid.
as you sneak back into bed, fingers still shaking as they turn the handle to yuji's room, you don't even have the energy to change your clothes. you simply crawl into bed, too crushed to face him, not garnering the strength, knowing what you'd done. a tear slips down your cheek.
because you can't even regret it.
and before you know it, yuji's draping himself over you, his arms, pulling you against the haven of his chest, sighing against your neck.
"you made it..." he mumbles.
oh, how you want to sob when he says such a thing. "yeah," you nod, trying to suppress the break in your voice, "yeah, i'm here."
yuji grunts happily, snuggling you closer. "mmh, good."
you don't think you will ever forgive yourself.
"i love you." yuji says, blind to the truth.
but you swear it's not one-sided. "i love you," you admit, beginning to cry softly in his arms, wondering if it will be the last time you ever get the liberty of doing so again.
#୭ ˚.⁺⊹ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓻𝓭 .ᐟ#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna smut#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#older brother sukuna#sukuna au#jjk au#yuji itadori#jjk itadori#itadori yuji#cckaisen too obscene!
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Hi, can I request a one-shot of Jax with a ballerina! reader? 👀, it can be romantic or platonic (she/her pronouns)
Jax x Ballerina Reader (FEM READER)
You'd tried your very hardest to avoid Jax ever since you'd first met him. And it wasn't just because of Ragatha's firm suggestions, it was also because the first time you'd interacted with him he'd smashed your porcelain arm and played it off as an accident.
Caine luckily could fix your arm with just a snap of his fingers but it offended you nevertheless and you'd made a point to stay away from him ever since.
Unfortunately for you, it just intrigued Jax further and egged him on.
He didn't directly approach you anymore and let you distance yourself but conducted mischievous pranks on you from afar instead.
It began with him laying a rat beneath your sheets, so when you uncovered it during night, it left you shrieking and hobbling away from your bed, drawing the attention of many other characters.
You slammed backwards onto the floor, holding out your fragile palms to steady yourself. Luckily nothing on your body had seemingly broke or cracked, but you barely acknowledged it as you jerked your head around the room in an attempt to watch the rat flee.
To your annoyance, the rat had scampered away just as they all peeked in.
Jax, who had joined the gawking characters at the entrance, cocked his head and grinned directly at you, eyeing your fallen position on the floor.
"Wow, rather ungraceful for a ballerina." He quipped smugly.
You glared right back, connecting the dots immediately.
You attempted to explain to the others that he'd planted a rat in your quarters but as Ragatha searched your room alongside you, in search of the pest, she discovered nothing.
"Maybe you just imagined it?" Ragatha guessed.
"You don't believe Jax would do such a thing?" You sighed back, smoothening down your leotard and grimacing.
"Well... he definitely would." Ragatha admitted. "I'm just surprised he's done it to you of all people."
"Why wouldn't he do it to me?" You asked in annoyance, placing your hands on your hips. "He's a prick."
Ragatha shrugged, giving you a slight smile.
"He just hasn't really insulted you much, not even behind your back."
You frowned; but shook it off.
Insults weren't needed when you tormented people instead... as annoying as it was, that was probably Jax's logic.
All you could really do now was prepare yourself for the second prank.
But this one was different.
You strolled through the circus, eyeing the combustion and flurries of colours with wary eyes. It was always overly colourful but these walks tended to help you clear your head and escape from Caine's wretched adventures so you took them anyway.
But of course, all things must come to an end and you reached the edge of the tent pretty quickly. You were preparing to swing back around again when suddenly voices rang out distantly from behind a green block.
You frowned. Who else could possibly be these deep into the tent as you were?
"...Somebody has to tell Caine to stop using Gloinks..." Ragatha grumbled.
"Doubt he will, he loves them." Zooble deadpanned. "Do you think that the newcomer will get swept away by them like me someday? She's really breakable."
You pressed up against the block, resisting the urge to peek.
"Hmm... maybe you guys will go back down to the queens nest together then, killing two birds with one stone." Jax said pleasantly.
Zooble audibly scoffed.
"Whatever. You'd come down to save her anyway. Your stupid little soft spot for her is so obvious!"
Jax's snarky protests were drowned out by Ragatha's giggles and eventually their footsteps echoed away until their voices finally faded completely.
You tried not to feel too special but it was a little difficult to drop the possibility of Jax even caring slightly for you and as you walked back to your quarters, narrowly avoiding gloinks, you could barely suppress the urge to beam or smirk triumphantly.
As you nudged your quarters door open suddenly you heard metal clink from above you and you glanced up to see a can of yellow paint, tipping straight over you.
You tried to avoid it but you were practically a deer caught in headlights at this point and it washed over you, leaving you to spit out paint.
Footsteps breezed by you accompanied by cheerful whistling, no doubt Jax.
But this time, you didn't feel as angry as you were before.
#the amazing digital circus#tadc x reader#tadc jax#tadc#jax#the amazing digital circus jax#jax x reader
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Stress Relief
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Peter B. Parker should know better than to swing by unannounced.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Breastfeeding as stress relief. Needy Miguel. Inspired by this ask. Thank you to @ancientbeing10 for the help with the Spanish!
You shot a string of web as high as possible so you could reach the platform.
Landing gracefully on both feet, you came across a visibly distressed Miguel who was frowning as he dragged a few screens in front of him from side to side.
“No signs of this new anomaly?”
His silence answered your question, and you reached out to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear.
“You’re way too stressed out,” you mumbled lovingly.
He placed both arms on the board, heaving a deep sigh. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not. How can I help?”
Miguel side-eyed you and his gaze dropped to your chest.
Oh.
Oh.
“Here?”
He turned to fully face you, and you watched as his face softened into a silent plea.
“Miguel…”
He grabbed your hand and placed a single kiss on the tip of his finger never tearing his eyes from yours. A shiver ran down your spine at the absolute sweetness of it. He then brought your hand to rest on his neck.
“Por favor…,” he whispered. “I know you love to feel me drinking it.”
Touché.
Your fingers squeezed lightly around his throat, feeling his pulse quicken. He knew exactly how to persuade you and it made your heart clench in anticipation.
His other hand started to tug at your tight suit that parted at your waist, lifting it high enough to reveal a breast full of milk.
“Just be quick…” you nodded.
Miguel didn’t need to be told twice and you promptly felt to large hands prop you up to seat on the board, immediately capturing the hardened nipple in between his teeth before latching completely.
Your mouth dropped open at once from the sudden stimulus, and you felt him effectively drawing milk into his mouth.
“Fuck…” you blurted out, eyes fluttering shut.
In no time, you began to feel his Adam’s apple wobble with each gulp. He had settled between your legs and in perfect reach for you to stroke him through his suit. He welcomed it by increasing the suction with a low grunt that rumbled through his throat and under your palm.
“Does this really help?” you asked teasingly.
He merely hummed, pressing his hardening cock further into the palm of your hand.
Well, there was the answer.
A single droplet of milk pooled at the corner of his mouth, and you watched in marvel as it slowly dripped down, leaving a wet trail on his skin.
His hips bucked instinctively into your touch and you rubbed your thumb in circles on his neck, urging him to keep swallowing.
Needy and impatient Miguel was your weakness. He could make you cum just from this alone if he focused enough on it and added some attention to your clit.
He moaned softly, but never breaking the latch.
“You’re doing so well,” you praised and his cock twitched instantly.
You faintly heard something in the distance, but figured the sound was coming from the moving screens.
Until…
“Yo, Miguel!”
Peter B. Parker was suddenly standing close to you, bearing a silly smile of affection.
Chaos ensued instantly.
You pushed Miguel away abruptly and dropped on your feet, adjusting your suit, knowing fully well a wet spot would now show through the fabric.
Miguel had turned feral, baring his milk-coated fangs at Peter, who proceeded acted as if he wasn’t about to be buried six feet under.
“Get out!”
“Woah!” he raised both hands defensively with a carefree chuckle. “Was just checking on my favourite couple. And I—”
“Peter…” you cut him off, widening your eyes at him as a warning.
He instead arched an eyebrow, eyes fixed on Miguel’s face. “What’s that on your face? Coconut milk?”
Oh no…
Miguel had a few droplets running down his chin from the corner of his mouth, which he tried to wipe as fast as possible, but the damage was done.
“Whipped cream?” he tried again, blissfully unaware.
You immediately got in between the two of them as Miguel looked positively ready to pounce, the outline of his strained erection visible.
“Peter!”
“VETE DE AQUÍ, IDIOTA!”
Oh, it was never a good sign when Miguel started using Spanish.
“Miguel, don’t!” you tried to calm him down as Peter glared at him like he had grown a third arm.
“What?”
“MALDITO SEAS! Vete a la verga!” he continued his rant, flashing his fangs once again.
Peter’s eyes suddenly widened as understanding splattered across his face. “Oh.”
“Peter, please leave…” you begged.
“Oh… huh… sure… I-I… yeah…” he stuttered as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “It was nice seeing you both… huh… keep that hydration up, Miguel,” he laughed nervously, giving you both a thumbs up.
Before Miguel could lurch forward to get a hold of Peter, he had quickly slipped off of the platform and towards the exist, leaving a whispering breeze behind.
“Let me kill him,” Miguel growled, adjusting his pretty much flaccid cock. “Please.”
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x you#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara smut#miguel o’hara x fem!reader
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Unexpected
Summary: You pay Gale an unexpected visit after one of his classes.
Word count: 1.4k
AO3 link
Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Professor Gale x female Tav/reader.
More disclaimers: Vaginal sex. Kissing/lip play. Semi-public sex. Chair sex. Sweat kink.
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You wait at the back of the lecture hall as Gale dismisses his class. Chattering pupils file past you and out of the door, bounding eagerly into the end of the semester. When his eyes meet yours, he grins so widely it is as though he has not seen you for weeks. You chuckle as you make your way towards him. The closing door echoes around the now empty room.
“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
You greet him with a quick kiss.
“I was in town, and just thought I’d drop by and see you. I thought it might be quiet, now that classes are over.”
He circles his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His brown eyes blaze.
"I’m very glad you did.”
You are suddenly aware of the state of you as you lean into his crisp tunic, his sandalwood scent engulfing you. Your dress clings to your curves, your flesh moist and swollen with heat. It is warm outside. You had broken into a half jog on the way, worried that you would miss him. Now, you are half drenched.
“Gods, I’m sorry.” You swipe your hand across your forehead. “I’m a sweaty mess.”
You notice that he is nuzzling into you. You can feel his fingers fluttering against your hips as his breath tickles your ear.
“Are you?” he murmurs.
His nose grazes your neck in little arcs, his hair brushing against your cheek. You quiver, your body already melting under his touch. He draws back, his eyes half-lidded.
You recognise that look.
“No.” You laugh. “Absolutely not.”
He grimaces. He is pressing his body against yours, his hands roaming, searching, lingering over an opening in your bodice.
“Not here.” He is nodding, agreeing.
“Anyone could walk in on us, Gale. A student, even.”
“You're right,” he mutters into your shoulder.
Your mind is resisting. But your fingers are grasping at the bristles on his chin. You are fighting the urge to run them over all your soft places.
“I’d lose my tenure.”
You tingle at a wet flicker in the dip of your collarbone. A hard heat twitches against your thigh. He buckles against you.
It is the knowledge of danger, you realise, the threat of discovery. It is the sheen of sweat on your muscles, the taste and smell of your salt. It drives him wild.
And his desire sets you on fire.
“Gale.” You tilt your head to him.
“I know,” he rasps. “We can't.”
He crushes his forehead against yours. He pushes you apart, then wrenches you close again. You can barely breathe now as you rub against each other, grinding and pressing hard into his flesh.
He trembles as his tongue trails up your neck, your chin, the corner of your lips. Every inch of your flesh is throbbing. You shiver against him. It is becoming impossible to remain standing. You stumble slightly against the desk behind you.
“Gods,” he whispers.
He runs his tongue over the seam of your lips, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You moan, clutching at his collar, raking your nails into his exposed chest. You suddenly remember where you are.
“We need to stop,” you manage.
He hums as you open your mouth to him. When he enters, you swirl and roll your tongue against his. He groans as you lap and suck at it, gently, then hungrily and urgently, and you weaken from the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you.
He rolls his hips into yours. You can feel your slickness straining against the unwelcome clothing between you. As if he can hear your thoughts, he reaches for the clasps on your bodice, the belt around your waist. When he rips the fabric from your skin, you are only vaguely aware of your nakedness. There is nothing else but your ache to be tasted by him.
He flicks his wrist, sending a rushing hand across the room to lock the door. His gaze is ravenous as he devours every line and curve of your glistening body. You can feel his bulge surging against your leg, see the traces of desperation that leak through his breeches. He stares at the thick trickle that gleams around your mound and the inside of your thighs.
“Gods,” he moans. “You'll be the end of me.”
There is the hot whirl of his tongue on your neck, the maddening graze of his teeth that tingles. Your vision is blurring, blind desire blazing through you. When he draws back, you stifle a whine.
“Come here.”
He falls back onto the chair behind him, his legs spread wide, his eyes smouldering. His lips curl in a sideways smile as he unfastens the catch on his breeches. He wraps his slender fingers around his cock, beads already spilling from its tip. You tremble in a burst of wet heat as you watch the veins twitching on his shaft. His gaze does not move from you as he pumps it once, twice. You can feel the moisture leaking from your folds as you climb onto him. When the head of his cock pushes against your swollen entrance, you both gasp.
“Do you want me?” he pants.
You whimper as you sink down onto him. His hardness stretches you wide, and he is so stiff, so thick, that it is a sharp surge through you. With a grunt, he spasms against your chest as you watch half of his cock sliding into you.
You plunge your tongue into his moaning mouth, desperate for more of him. When he clenches your hips and thrusts up into you, you cry out. You bury your face in his hair, tousled and damp with his musk. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, hardened and tensed. As his girth pulses against your clit, you writhe with the tremors of pleasure. He grasps at your breasts as you rise and fall, grinding into him as he drives his cock deeper and deeper into you.
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs into your mouth.
You lick at his lips, feverish. You cannot think, cannot speak. All that exists is the burning inside you, his groans as he bounces your hips onto his cock, firmly, slowly, then faster and faster in a gathering frenzy. His gritted teeth, and the slick sounds of your ache, drawing towards its peak.
In your haze, you are dimly conscious of a clicking sound. You are arching your back, your head thrown back in a convulsion of bliss, when he suddenly falls still. You continue to buck into him until you notice the panic on his face.
“The door.”
There is a clacking and creaking, and you are scrambling onto your feet faster than you have ever moved in your life. You are dripping and raw and naked as you look frantically around you. But it is too late.
As the door opens, you see a flurry of his fingers. He leaps behind his desk.
You are holding your breath, terrified, as an elderly man saunters into the lecture hall. You raise your hands to cover your breasts, and that is when you realise you are fully translucent.
An invisibility spell.
Gale’s hair is dishevelled, his cheeks flushed. He stills the heaving of his chest, leaning back in his chair. He draws his shoulders up in an imitation of calm, concealing his exposed groin under the desk.
“Professor Dekarios.” The old man frowns. “I thought you would have gone by now. I’m only here to do some tidying up, to make sure all is in order before we close the premises.”
Gale flashes a disarming smile. “Of course, Jarvis. That’s very kind. I’m just finishing up here, and then the room will be all yours.”
Jarvis shrugs, scanning the lecture hall. For a moment, it is as though he is looking straight at you. You are frozen with fear and shame. But he gives Gale a brisk nod and wanders towards the door.
“Enjoy your holidays, Professor Dekarios,” Jarvis calls out with a wave.
“And you, Jarvis.”
He removes the spell as soon as Jarvis closes the door. Your heart rattles as you dart towards the bundle of clothes strewn on the floor, overcome with relief that Jarvis did not notice them.
“We’re never doing this again,” you huff, bending over to pull your skirt on.
You feel his arm curling around you from behind. His cock is still hard, pressing into the cleft of your ass. His tongue flicks at your ear lobe, and your knees almost buckle. You turn to face him, your nipples prickling against his chest.
“On the contrary,” he breathes, wetting his lips. “I think we should finish what we started.”
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#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 smut#bg3 fanfiction#baldurs gate 3 fic#baldurs gate 3 smut#baldurs gate 3#bg3#bg3 gale#gale x reader#gale x tav#professor gale#professor dekarios#bg3 gale smut#bg3 gale fic#gale fic#gale dekarios smut#gale of waterdeep smut#gale fanfic
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REMUS LUPIN | NOT SO SECRET ADMIRER PRT.3
REQUEST : hii! i jus wanted to know if your remus lupin, “not so secret admirer” was gonna continue with more than two parts? i’m really enjoying the story 😽 ⏤requested by anon
TAGS. : casanova remus makes an appearance ; good news for reader ; date at the three broomsticks ; oversized sweater sharing moment ; remus is a gentleman ; most of the time ; he's so dreamy ; and flirty ; and a tease! ; you're too cute for him ; he thinks you're absolutely precious! ; lowkey idiots in love ; it's finally happening! ; you both have an effect on each other ; making it official hehe~ ; final part~
LENGTH : 1.8k
← PART ONE | PART TWO
Sirius whistles a sharp, short tune and wiggles his brows at Remus, “look over there, Moony~” Sirius sings as he gestures towards you from across the field, “your missus wants you to go over and give her a big ol’ smooch,”
“Shut up, Padfoot,” Remus laughs and playfully hits his best friend on the shoulder as he passes him on his way to you. He doesn’t care much for all the teasing; he’s been counting the days, and now, he’s counting his steps —the closer he gets to you, he starts to run. Remus doesn’t care if he looks stupid or overly eager, not when you’re smiling at him so beautifully; he wants to see you smiling from closer up. Just as he’s a few meters away, he hears you call out to him and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest.
“I got top marks!”
From where they were scattered around at the base of the ancient tree arching over the black lake, the Marauders eye their tall, love struck friend as he runs to you with, suddenly, open arms.
“Looks as happy as a Niffler with all that treasure in his arms,” James laughs as their rambunctious group grins, snickering at the sight before them. Remus shouts in joy, his elation heard from across the field as he picks you up by the waist, only to pull you close moments later for a prolonged embrace. The sight warmed their hearts despite their determination in denying it.
“He should really just kiss ‘er already,” Peter whines, his impatience drawing more snickers from two of his best friends.
“You read my mind, Wormtail,” Sirius laughs, throwing his arm across his ratty friend’s shoulders, “wanna place your bets on when he’ll finally grow the balls to kiss ‘er?” all the boys share a wide grin and start placing their bets, Peter offering his treasured sweets, James, his full allowance for Hogsmeade weekend and Sirius, his recently concocted potion for a devious prank.
“You sound like you’ve run a marathon to get here,” Remus throws his head back slightly, eyes shining with fondness as he lovingly caresses your warm cheek with the back of his hand.
“I—” you take a moment to catch your breath, giggling briefly from your own embarrassment but the warmth ins chestnut-brown eyes calmed you down, “I thought you were in the library,”
Remus’ brows fly to his hairline from surprise as you hide your face in his sweater; a feeble attempt at sheltering away your sheepishness. You had been running about Hogwarts castle for him? The tall brunette doesn’t know whether he should laugh in good humour or kiss you stupid.
The urge to kiss you was undeniable, however. Especially when you were being so adorable, hiding your sweet face in his chest like that. His long arms wrap around you, pressing you further into his warmth and comforting scent. The motion makes you sigh dreamily only to stutter when you feel a soft pair of lips press a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Congratulations…” his soft, deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. The sentiment was whispered with such sincerity, it made you swoon. Only you were allowed to hear his praise and your entire form lifted like a weightless cloud. You felt floaty and light. You want him to praise you more, you want him to kiss you more too. The last time he kissed you was the day before your exam - it was torture waiting for your exam to get marked. But he made the wait worth it, “How about that date? Huh?”
Pulling away, you tilt your chin to peer up at him with a timid flutter of your lashes, “I was promised a butterbeer too…”
The mix of your mischief and undeniable cuteness had Remus’ heart racing a mile a second; he couldn’t help but release the tension in a short laugh, “you can have as many butterbeers as you want!”
Hogsmeade weekend couldn’t come sooner enough. However, as soon as the awaited date had arrived, your excitement was turned into dread. An entire afternoon spent with Remus. You can imagine yourself already making a mess of things and, knowing how clumsy you get when you’re nervous, you’re sure it isn’t long before you’re tripping over air and making a spectacle of yourself.
“Easy there,” Remus coos at you softly when you jump in surprise from his sudden actions, “sorry about that but you were shaking like an autumn leaf, sweetheart,” he flashes you an apologetic smile before his expression melts into adoration at the sight of you in his oversized grandpa sweater, “is that better?”
You manage a timid nod, avoiding his beautiful eyes as you slip your arms into place, adoring the familiar comfort the warmth and smell of his sweater brought you. It was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous. This was Remus; he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel bad or embarrassed just because of a silly mistake. You peek up at him from beneath the cover of your lashes. He’s so tall and handsome and just so… perfect. A gentle giant, topped with messy brown hair, soft eyes and covered in mysterious, faded scars but remains ever kind. This is why you fell for him, why he has such an effect on your heart, why he has such a pull on your entire being. He is safety and comfort and love all moulded into the beautiful gentleman that he is.
With a surge of bravery, you inch closer and closer to your Hogsmeade date’s side until you’re practically pressed into him. Remus smiles at you but tries to hide away his blushing cheeks by keeping his gaze forward as he leads you down the path to the Three Broomsticks. It isn’t until he feels your small, soft hand slip into his much larger one that he finally glances down at you. The two of you meet eyes once more before you’re hiding your embarrassment away by burrowing your face into his bicep.
For the love of Merlin, could you stop being so lovable and precious?! Girls like you were his number one weakness — you were going to kill him at this rate!
“If you keep at this cuteness act, I’ll have no choice but to wrap you up in my arms and run back to the castle so I can have you to myself forever, little dove,”
Was he just playing around or was he being serious?
You look up and stare into his eyes — you couldn’t quite tell…
As promised Remus treated you to as many butterbeers as you wanted, not that you wanted much anyway. Not only that but the butterbeer does a good job of warming you up and you didn’t fancy having to take off Remus’ generously offered sweater so you’ll stick to your second butterbeer for now.
“Are you sure you don’t want anymore? I did make a promise,” Remus urges gently but when you politely shake your head ‘no’ and wrap your arms around yourself to burrow your nose under the stretched out collar of his sweater, he instantly knew your reasoning. You make it so easy to fall in love with you, “Is there something else you’d like then? Maybe a dessert? I don’t feel like I’ve rewarded you enough for a job well done on that test,”
Without a moment’s hesitation, you blurt out, “Being with you is reward enough,”
…did you think he was joking when he told you his intentions on the way here?
“I wasn’t joking, little dove,” he hears you softly hum in curiosity, asking him to elaborate, “I will keep you all to myself if you don’t stop being so adorable,”
“I-I don’t mean to—” he laughs at your flustered state and picks up your hand to kiss your knuckles.
“I. Don’t. Care,” it was a threat but one that was lovingly spoken into your skin as he kept your hand raised to his lips. Your eyes meet his over the bumps and grooves of your knuckles. He was being very sincere.
“…how—“ you hesitate, biting your lip and avoiding his eyes momentarily, “how about a compromise?…” bargaining for your freedom — this wasn’t something you expected the afternoon to turn into. Nevertheless, you’re willing to play along, bearing in mind the serious undertones of your conversation.
“I’m listening,” he hums and he almost sounds like he’s purring; a familiar glint of mischief reflecting in his eyes as he focuses his gaze onto your hand. You watch as he admires the way his fingers interlock with yours, forming an intimate hold where his larger hand appears to devour your smaller one. He looks into your eyes again, a small prompt asking you to continue with the proposal.
“How about we promise to see each other every day at lunch?”
“Not good enough,”
You nibble on your bottom lip and miss Remus’ lingering stare, “breakfast and lunch?”
“Still not good enough,” he’s smiling —no, he’s smirking at you. What happened to your gentle giant?! He’s supposed to be kind and sweet, not a tease! You’re dangerously close to having a heart attack and he’s showing no mercy!
“D-dinner too, then?”
“Your suggestions are not satisfactory,“ his words are that of a professional, “and I’m getting very impatient, my dear,” you’re speechless as he holds up your hand and rolls the long sleeve of his sweater down your arm, exposing your skin where he begins to pepper a light trail of kisses down.
In between your flustered state and racing mind, you don’t know how your panic managed to translate your thoughts so articulately, “How could I possible work out a compromise with you then?!”
“You’re a smart girl, you know what I want,”
“No, I—”
“What I want is what you want…”
His words make you pause. For a moment, you can hear nothing but your racing heart pumping blood past your ears, see nothing but Remus’ smirking lips and piercing brown eyes, feel nothing but his lips on the skin of your arm, taste nothing but the lingering alcohol on your tongue. It takes one big inhale to muster up enough courage, furthered by your earlier two frothing tankards of butterbeer, “be my boyfriend then…” you sound like a shy but demanding, spoiled child. One that Remus would happily pamper to your heart’s content.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, sweetheart,” his kind smile makes your heart race and an elated grin slowly grows on your lips before he’s leaning across the table at lightening speed, your hand still held captive in his, “Lets seal it with a kiss, shall we?”
You expected him to kiss your forehead. But no. No, this kiss was so much better.
He tastes like chocolate and buttery, foaming beer.
A/N : Goodness did this take a long time, im so sorry my darlings! i don’t know why i consistently kept getting writers block when it came to writing this fic. i think it’s partially to do with the fact that i never really intended to continue the original timestamp hehe~ nevertheless, it’s here and i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!
NAVI.
TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @rosalyn-s @thelastbrainceliishere @littleshadow17 @b-i-h-i @babiely @nickkie99 @hehehhehexd @imdoingbetternow @regulusblacksposts @nicassie @lovelyygirl8 @onedaysoonyoullsee @jennieasfrance @onlyfredslibrary @soradragon @idli-dosa-reblogs @remusparkers
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders#marauders era#remus john lupin#marauders#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fluff#remus x you#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin fic#marauders imagine
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Bae ok so I js had an idea🤭
What ab lo'ak coming home after a long day and he's being all needy and touchy towards the reader n ends up saying something like "I need you to sit on my face mama" 🧎🏽♀️
Love you!🩷🩷
adult Lo‘ak x female reader, minors dni 🔞
As soon as Lo‘ak had entered through the door of your shared marui, shoulders dropped and tail limblessly dragging over the floor behind him, you knew that he must’ve had a rough day.
He doesn’t even speak when he scoops you into his arms, picks you up and lays you down onto the soft, woven sleeping mat on the other side of the room. His hands roam your body before you could even greet him properly, caressing every inch of skin they could reach, squeezing your soft flesh and worshiping every curve. An attempt to ask him about his day is immediately muffled by his lips against yours, his tongue exploring the familiar warmth and wetness of your mouth and he sighs deeply into the kiss.
It goes on like this for a while, both of you leaving trails of kisses on each others bodies behind, for your hands to follow like the map to a treasure. Lo’ak peels you out of your clothes like you’re a piece of candy and he’s desperate to pop you into his mouth and swirl his tongue around you. But this shouldn’t be about you. Your mate seems so drained from his day, you just want him to lay down and let you do all the work. You know that he deserves this more than you right now.
"I need you to sit on my face, mama", Lo‘ak suddenly says, making you pause midway of untying his loincloth and glance up at him with furrowed brows.
"But I… I wanted to take care of you, Lo‘ak", you say softly, "You seem so tired, just let me—"
"Please, baby, c‘mon", he cuts you off, slowly pulling you up and urging you to straddle his head, "Ride my face, I’ve been thinking about it all day. Was the only thing that helped me through it."
How could you ever deny him a request like that?
The moment your soft folds come in contact with his lips, a downright pornographic groan rumbles through his chest. But once he realizes the tension in your thighs and that you only hover over his face, Lo’ak gives a playful smack to your ass that makes you yelp.
"I said sit."
You swallow thickly. With a silent nod, you do as you’re told, carefully lowering yourself to sit on his face properly and immediately, his tongue darts out to lick a stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit, where he closes his lips around the little nub of pleasure and sucks.
"Lo’ak", you draw his name out in a long moan, head falling back and eyes fluttering shut.
Between your thighs, you hear him moan at your taste. You fist your hands in his braided hair to anchor him so you can rut against his face, against his nose and those puffy lips, so roughly that you can feel his head moving with the force of your hips. And yet he’s moaning uncontrollably, gasping and groaning your name between slurps and sucks.
Lo‘ak is a voracious pussy eater. Tireless, hungry, eager to please, but most of all responsive, even though he’s nearly smothered under your weight as you ride his face.
"Hmm, fuck that’s it", he groans, voice muffled against your dripping cunt, "Taste s‘good, so wet for me. Want you to cum on my face, baby. Make a mess on me."
His mouth and his tongue work overtime, swirling around your clit, then switching to stick his tongue into you, ignoring his aching jaw to lick up every little drop of your delicious juices, smothering himself and shortening his breath from stuffing his nose into your mound to reach as far into you as he can.
Taking a hand off your hip, he then slips two of his fingers into your soaking wet cunt and curls them just right. Pairing powerful strokes of his hand with long sucks of his mouth, he coaxes you over the edge with such familiarity and such confidence that it takes your breath away. Literally.
You gasp sharply, hands fisting his hair tighter and mindlessly tugging as your thighs snap close around his head. Your orgasm almost takes you out, it makes you shake, your muscles jumping and spasming and making you twitch uncontrollably until it plateaus into complete, white-out inducing bliss. His fingers keep pumping in and out of you through the clamping of your walls, stretching out your orgasm while he kisses and sucks on your clit until you’re slumping forward, your body slowly going limp from the incredible pleasure.
With a gentle tap to your thigh, he signals you to untangle yourself from him, lifting your hips from his face. He’s glistening with your slickness and the sight makes you flustered, cheeks heating up in bright red colors. When Lo‘ak sits up, your eyes immediately fall on the outline of his hard and painfully neglected cock, bulging the fabric of his loincloth. It makes you swallow almost hungrily.
Seeing the way you look at him, Lo‘ak only grins at you, palming himself over the thin cloth before he repositions himself. With a hand flat on your chest he gently lays you down and then kneels right between your thighs. Hooking your legs up high over his shoulders, your eyes widen when he playfully bites down onto the soft inside of your thigh, leaving claiming marks behind. His hot breathe fans over the wet skin of your cunt and you shiver.
"But- But what about you?", you whisper, half lidded eyes carefully observing the way he lowers his head between your thighs once again. He doesn’t even look up at you, his own eyes completely fixed on the way you desperately clench around nothing, dripping arousal like sweet nectar and he licks his lips in anticipation.
"This is about me, baby. Now hush and let me enjoy my favorite meal. I’m fucking starving."
#tw: aged up#damn these are getting longer and longer#barely counts as a drabble but oh well#lo’ak x reader#loak#avatar loak#loak x female reader smut#Lo’ak#lo’ak x fem!reader#loak sully#loak x reader#loak x y/n#loak smut#loak x female reader#loak x you#lo’ak x you#atwow lo’ak#lo’ak x female reader#lo’ak sully#lo’ak x y/n#loak fanfiction#neteyam x female reader smut#loak x reader smut#Avatar#Avatar 2#atwow#neteyam x reader#avatar the way of water
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Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5
Fandom;
Mean Girls (2024)
Pairings:
Regina George x Reader
Summary:
The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.
Warnings;
Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention
Parts;
Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5
“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”
Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.
You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.
Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.
You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.
Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.
“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.
The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.
“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”
You sigh. “It’s not like that.”
That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.
Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.
“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.
“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.
“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.
“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“
“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.
“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.
You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.
So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.
You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.
She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.
How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?
You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.
You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.
You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.
She clearly heard more than she was meant to.
You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.
When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.
When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.
You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.
It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.
When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.
That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.
She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.
It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.
Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.
“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.
You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.
Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.
You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.
Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.
Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.
It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.
You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.
Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.
She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.
After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.
Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.
Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.
Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?
You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.
“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.
It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.
You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.
Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.
Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.
“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”
“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.
“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.
You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.
You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.
You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.
All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.
It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.
You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.
Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?
“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”
She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.
“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.
“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.
You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.
Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.
After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.
As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.
You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.
You did pack one thing
Marshmallows.
You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.
You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.
You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.
“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.
“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.
You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.
“Why did you screw over Janis?”
Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.
“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”
“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.
You decide not to push it any further.
“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.
“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”
She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.
“Being with you has felt free.”
Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.
You fit together like a puzzle.
You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.
“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”
Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.
“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”
She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.
“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.
She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.
A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.
You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.
As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same
You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“
She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.
“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.
You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.
The star lion in the sky beams down at you.
#wlw#mean girls 2024#regina george#regina george fanfic#regina george x reader#regina george x you#mean girls#mean girls fanfic#renee rapp#cabin fever
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