#ITS JUST. SO DELECTABLE OF A SONG | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thekinslayed · 1 year ago

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Sweet Disposition

summary | Gwayne is welcomed to King's Landing by his beloved niece.

pairing | gwayne hightower x niece!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral (m), oral (f), just the tip, cum eating, reader has blue eyes and red hair, gwayne is a classist (and is in love with the niece that looks like him lol), incest, lotsa rubbing, lotsa yappin'

song rec | Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap

wordcount | 3.2k

note | welcome to the stage, gwayne hightower!!! i just had to, u guys. i’m not too sure how the age gap’s looking since idrk how old gwayne is, but do assume they did stuff the first time when the reader was of age :)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“Ah, sweetling!”

You squealed at the sight of him, rising from your seat by the window to rush over to the door. Your uncle grunted in surprise as you jumped into his arms, chuckling amusedly in your embrace. You had waited all day for him. Worry began to fester in your gut when there was no sign of him as the day grew dark. Mother said they must’ve gotten held back by the impending storm that was painting the blue sky a desolate gray. However, the gods have granted you your wish. Soon enough, a flurry of green flashed through the gates of King’s Landing, and Gwayne Hightower made his way to find you.

“What took you so long?” you asked, pouting at him. His chest rumbled against yours in another chuckle, the rich sound of his amusement a lively song.

“My deepest apologies, princess. Some trouble down in the Kingsroad had us going a longer way. No worry now, I am here,” he explained, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “Brother dearest keeping you locked in here?”

You scoffed, pulling away from your uncle. His bright blues wandered around the expanse of your chambers, observing the various Valyrian tapestries decorating your walls. He admired you, as you trailed your hands over the cushions of the settee. Pure Targaryen, all except for the vibrant red of your curls. That was all Hightower, much to his delight.

“More so mother than Aegon, he doesn’t give two shits about me. Either way, it’s always him and mother huddled together in those council meetings. And Aemond, when he’s not off to gods know where. War feels pretty boring if you ask me,” you responded, earning a raise of the eyebrow from the redhead.

“It won’t be boring once thousands of men die for your cause, princess, all so you could stay here and sit prettily while we fight for you.” He remained standing as you plopped down onto the plush chaise, reaching for a cherry from the plate of fruit situated on the side table.

It was tart, bursting with its dark juices as you sunk your teeth into its plump flesh. Gwayne watched as you wrapped your lips around the round fruit. It tainted your lips a luscious red, utterly delectable.

Your brows furrowed in offense, while a frown turned your pretty lips downward. “Are you saying I’m useless? If only I were given the chance, I could fly off on my dragon and burn more than half the enemy’s army before you could even engage,” you said, to which Gwayne replied with an understanding nod.

“I know you would, darling, but we cannot have you harmed. You are too precious to be sent off to battle, take it from me,” your uncle replied, placating. You huffed, grumbling under your breath, making Gwayne bite back an amused smirk. Throwing away the cherry’s pit, you grabbed a strawberry this time, wrapping your fingers around its leaves to deliver it in one bite. Your cheeks had hollowed as you sucked on its juices, provocating… inviting. This had wiped the amusement off the elder Hightower’s face, making him clear his throat and shift where he stood, A smirk of your own rose on your lips at this success.

“How does Daeron fare?” you asked nonchalantly. Gwayne shrugged, waving a hand dismissively as he continued his exploration of your apartments. It was quite spacious, though the smallest out of the entire royal family, but it was comfortable enough. It was situated at the far end of the hall, farther away from prying eyes and curious ears.

“You know him, itching to fly back at a moment’s notice,” your uncle informed, to which you nodded in understanding. In truth, you hadn’t spent much time in King’s Landing, only in recent years. When the youngest was sent off to Oldtown to squire, you were tasked with accompanying him as his eldest sister. You were ten and five then, only returning after six years when your grandsire decided it was high time for you to be married off. In your time away from the capital, you had missed much, evidently enough. The war had put any courtship or marriage proposals on pause, which aggravated you. If only you had known, you would have spent your days back in Oldtown happily. With Daeron and your dragons. With Gwayne.

“Not curious as to how I’ve been, little red?” he mused. You smirked at him, tilting your head to the side in feigned curiosity.

“How are you then, uncle? Missing your little squire?” you queried, teasing. Gwayne narrowed his eyes at you, which you mimicked. You were no stranger to your uncle’s tastes. Being away from the careful watch of your grandsire allowed him much freedom to do as he liked, especially when the old codgers were asleep. It was why you hadn’t seen much of him in your first years in Oldtown. The elder Hightower used to barely show an interest in his sister’s children, kept occupied by the pursuit of his merriment. He remained detached from you, up until you accidentally came across some unknown servant stumbling out of his chambers late one night, doublet unbuttoned and breeches unlaced. It sparked your curiosity, had ignited a carnal hunger deep within you. He had opened your eyes to such proclivities, had broken away the conservative mold your faith had locked you in.

Gwayne feigned a sarcastic laugh, walking around you to your window. “Funny.”

One could see the vastness of the horizon past the Bay from this view. The breeze a salty, refreshing prickle. It held little of the nose-scrunching stench of Flea Bottom. You craned your head to watch your uncle face the wind. His hair had gotten longer, you noted. It looked better. “Though I am a bit peeved to travel all this way to not be welcomed by my whole family, but I suppose our new Hand has been keeping your mother company,” he said, a bite of bitterness in his tone.

You stood from your seat, approaching to stand by his side. The greens of your garments matched perfectly, and so did the reds of your tresses. You were always happy to look more Hightower than Targaryen, though your blood always ran hot, much like a dragon’s.

“Jealous much? Perhaps you could ask to join them,” you teased, bumping your elbow into his playfully. Gwayne merely rolled his eyes at your implication. The sight of the Dornishman leaning too close to his sister had confirmed the rising suspicions his father had made him aware of. How convenient it was for him to be made Hand too, granted a position that brought him closer to Alicent’s level. And to share her bed at night. How exhilarating it must be to a man like Ser Criston.

“I’d rather indulge with someone that stirred something in my loins without stepping on my shoulders for leverage in this society, thank you very much.”

“Anyone in mind?”

Gwayne turned to meet your gaze. The blues of your orbs were much like his, icy and deep. He could see the freckles that dotted the bridge of your nose from the proximity, could spend all day to count each one of them. The corners of his lips quirked upwards, as fast as a blink, before pursing.

He regarded you with a gaze so familiar, yet tantalizing enough to warm the meat underneath your skin. The hairs on the back of your head stood tall in attention, prickly underneath his stare. He turned his body to face yours, and you followed suit. Gwayne could almost feel the heat exuding from you, the dragon that you were, from this distance. Almost.

You watched him watch you. The momentary flicker of his eyes to your lips was not overlooked, igniting a spark of excitement deep in your chest. Your feet took a step closer to him, nearly closing the gap. Gwayne mimicked you, taking a step of his own. The air between the two of you grew thick, almost dizzying with tension, but neither of you made the move. This was a familiar game with your uncle. It always left you thirsting for more, had made you an addict. It had you almost sneaking off on your dragon back to Oldtown just for a taste.

“When are you to set off then?” you asked, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You felt his fingertip begin to trace the outline of your curves, though you paid them no mind.

“Well, it was supposed to be on the morrow, but this storm hasn’t worked out in our favor. In two days’ time, perhaps.” He had flattened his hand on the small of your back now, pulling you in subtly. You planted your hands on his chest, caressing the firm planes hidden underneath his doublet. His breath was hot on your face, bringing about a flush on your cheeks.

“So soon?” you pouted. “You’ve only just gotten here.”

A heavy sigh escaped Gwayne’s lips. The skin on his neck was pale as he tilted his head back, littered with a light dusting of freckles. He was close to tipping over, you could feel it.

“War waits for no one, I’m afraid,” he muttered. You hummed in agreement, taking a bolder step by wrapping your arms around his neck. He tutted in warning, to which you only responded with an innocent bat of your lashes.

“We should make most of our time then,” you suggested, preening up at him suggestively. Your uncle bit his lip, pondering, deciding whether it was time for him to succumb to the magnetic pull of his body to yours.

“Princess.” A warning.

“Uncle.” An invitation.

Gwayne pressed his lips to yours, sweet like cherry. You moaned in delight, a budding warmth in your chest bursting at the feel of his kiss. It was hungry, urgent, tainted with the promise of making up for the time you had spent away from each other’s warmth. Roaming hands found your rear, squeezing the plump flesh through your skirts. Your uncle’s wandering lips traveled their way downward, trailing to settle on the length of your neck. A whine echoed through your chambers as he bit on your neck, before smoothing over with his tongue. Something was starting to poke your hip, and your hand descended to cup it, earning a grunt from the redheaded man before you.

A breath was hitched into his throat when you dropped to your knees, making quick work to untie his breeches. The heady scent of his cock was familiar, albeit he was unwashed, and it almost felt like coming home. Gwayne was your home. You wasted no time to press kisses to reddening tip, licking a stripe down the underside of his length before taking him whole. Your desperation was evident in your movements, head bobbing up and down fervently while you kept your eyes on him. Above you, the knight could only grunt, running a hand through his ginger tresses to keep himself grounded.

“How is it you’ve gotten better at this in my absence, hm? Had done your own practice?” he groaned, placing a guiding hand on the back of your head. You hummed around his length, the vibrations of your cavern making his cock jump. A hand replaced your mouth when you pulled away, stroking at a uniform pace as you looked up at him.

“One of Aegon’s friends said I certainly do it quite well. I have you to thank for the knowledge, I suppose,” you bragged, smirking when his blues visibly darkened at your words. He pulled you up back to your feet, leading you back to lean against a sidetable before claiming your lips once more. He was unbothered by the taste of himself on your tongue, nor by the spit painting both your cheeks in this messy exchange. You took hold of one of his hands to guide up your skirt, past your smallclothes, and settling on your mound.

Gods, you were soaked. You had been the moment you felt his warmth, had pressed your nose into the familiar scent of his flesh.

His fingertips trailed down your slit to collect your essence, before taking it into his mouth for a taste. You watched, hypnotized as his lips wrapped around his fingers. Your skirts were then bunched up to your hips, your smallclothes falling to the floor once you untied the ribbons that held them together. The figurines on your table rattled as the wood accommodated your weight when you had shifted to lean further. You beckoned him closer by wrapping your leg around his trim waist, and an arm around his shoulders. It was almost like you readied to dance as he took hold of your waist, an embrace so rehearsed, so familiar. The underside of his cock pressed against your weeping cunny, and with the sway of his hips, the sweet song of your whines filled Gwayne’s ears. His cockhead snagged against your pearl when he pushed his hips at a perfect angle, making you both moan.

Calloused hands took hold of your thighs, dimpling the soft flesh under his hold. You gripped the edge of the table to ground yourself, throwing your head back as your uncle rubbed against you deliciously. He knew how much you liked this, well aware of how much power he held over you when he teased you with the promise of his claiming of your maidenhead. It stoked a fire deep within your loins, though today, it was not enough to burn you under.

“Gwayne…” you whined. “More… I need more!”

His red tresses swayed as he shook his head in refusal. His eyes were trained on the sight of your essence coating his cock, angling his hips to press against your pearl more. “I can’t… not yet, my love, you know this.”

You gripped his shoulders in frustration, urging him to look at you with your hands cupping his jaw. Your lips displayed your desperation as you kissed him. You have always asked little from him, naught but for one thing.

“This could be the last time we ever see each other. Please, uncle,” you pleaded, burying your head into his neck as you sobbed.

Your uncle had shown you much, had taught you much. However, there was one thing that was not for him to take. He dared not sully his niece, his beloved sister’s eldest girl. That kind of depravity is for Targaryens, and Gwayne thought himself a dignified man, honorable. Yet as you bit your lip temptingly at him, your brows furrowed adorably, the tight noose of virtue continued to loosen.

He grabbed hold of his cock, directing it to your slit. Gwayne kept his hand on the lower half of length to restrain himself, lest he lost all control. His tip breached your walls, reaching only far enough to feel your heat. “Just this much, and I promise when I return we will have so much more,” he panted into your ear. His thrusts were shallow, though some threatened to reach deeper, farther into your warmth. He alternated between rubbing and breaching, an assaulting tease to your senses.

You moaned his name like a prayer. Devoted pleading. Your grip on the back of his neck was grounding, keeping his head from floating to the heavens to be here with you. You were all over him, from your hands in his hair, your lips on his jaw down to your juices that coated his cock.

It was too late for him, he realized. To try and outrun a dragon’s fire was a futile attempt, and all he could do was welcome it with resignation. How ever could he deny himself this bliss? How could he deny you?

He came as his cockhead snagged on your folds once more, painting your mound with his pearly seed. Barely catching his breath, your hand on his shoulder ordered him to his knees. Like a devotee, the Hightower kneeled before you, descending his mouth onto your cunny. His own spend was salty as it coated his tongue, mixed with the sticky sweet nectar of your maiden core. The sight of his reds in between your thighs was a heavenly sight, and you could only pray to have him like this until the end of your days.

You were nearing your precipice, evident by the grinding of your hips against his face. With a thumb on your pearl and his tongue dipping in and out of your cunt, you came with a cry. Your uncle slurped up your release like a man starved, groaning against your mound.

When he had returned to his feet, Gwayne’s lips glistened with your essence. Breathless, you bit back a smile, but as his own flushed lips widened, a giggle bubbled from your chest. Your uncle chuckled, planting a small kiss to your forehead before taking you into his arms.

“How I’ve missed you, little red.”

“Why does it have a skirt?”

You poked the ornate metal decorating the horse, confused at such attire. It even had a matching mask on its head, and you wondered if the poor thing could even see.

“Tis armor. To ensure my royal steed is kept safe and no harm comes to it, and by extension, me, gods willing,” Gwayne explained, busied by the preparations of the move. Your uncle leaned closer to your ear, the distance between you tethering on violating propriety. “So I may find my way back to you.”

He was clad in his armor, silver steel paired by velvet Hightower green. He looked exquisite. If you were a lesser woman, there was no telling what you would have done right then and there, in the middle of the Keep’s courtyard. You regarded him with a dark gaze, uncaring of hiding your desire despite your mother and the Hand standing only a few paces away.

Your chest was heavy with dread. A worrying nagging in your head growing harder to ignore. Their journey was sure to be hard, and who knows what else they were to face other than harsh terrain. What if there were dragons? What were he to do to defend himself from such fire? You would beg your brother to let you fly with them, but the fucker barely spared a second of his day for you.

The prospect of losing Gwayne was daunting enough to drive you mad, yet there was little you could do. He could see it in your face, could feel the fear emanating from your anxious form as you watched him prepare. “Will you be careful?” you asked quietly.

He gave you a downturned smile, heart swelling. “I will, little red, I promise,” he replied. His vow did little to quench your apprehension, evident in the way you looked at anywhere but him. The knight took hold of your elbow, giving you a comforting squeeze. “And when I return, we could tell your mother,” he vowed.

Your orbs were bright in surprise as you looked up at him, making Gwayne smile. The passing of a stableboy reminded you of your surroundings, making you huddle closer to him. “You don’t jest?” you whispered.

“Never about you,” he responded, sincerity clear in his voice. He took hold of your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. “I shall win the king his army, and ask for his blessing. Until then, wait for me, my sweetling.”

The ground thumped as the knights marched out of the city’s gates. They made for a menacing sight, a symbol for the war that was starting to brew. As you stood with your mother, you uttered a silent prayer. You hoped the gods would hear you now, would let Gwayne find his way back to you.

#bella writes ✍️#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #freddie fox

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bambisnc · 3 months ago

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( ➴ ) 𝖪𝖨𝖲𝖲 𝖧𝖨𝖬, 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖬𝖤! ♡

୨ৎ. 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 .. 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌.

### . STARRING ⌢ p.sh ⋆ oneshot + 1.2k // kissing + reader has an ex + i need you guys to j trust me on this please ˖ ✧

[ 陰 🤍 ] ─── i have nawt read the manga before anyone asks; i found the name super funny & then a little lightbulb in my head went "!!" ㅤㅤㅤㅤ‹ FILE.ZIP 𝟹

park sunghoon usually prides himself on being a man of dignity and honor.

he’s heard people around him say this; multiple remarks of how his moral conduct seems totally unshakable. a pillar whose boundaries not one single temptation could consider breaking, they'd say.

but, he finds himself thinking, if all that were really true, he wouldn’t really be in this position—with heeseung's girlfriend all pretty in front of him, pinned up against a wall—would he?

not that he's complaining about the sight in front of him, of course.

you are nothing less of a divine vision with slightly swollen and spit slicked lips, your delicately applied gloss now smudged from the earlier … activities.

his eyes take in the loose strands of hair framing your features, the way your eyes are delectably glazed over and the lightest sheen of sweat highlighting it all. it’s a wonder he’s able to resist diving right back in and claiming your lips in another kiss, really.

heeseung should've known better.

he should've known that leaving you alone with sunghoon could not possibly lead to any good outcomes.

one doesn't harbour unrequited feelings for months and leave scott-free, with zero after effects. there’s bound to be some catches.

sunghoon blamed many other things too.

firstly, the sun. for subjecting him to its sweltering heat and for rendering him into a half-dazed stupor. for being the reason you were wearing that gorgeous sundress, casual but enough to catch the attention of all the others lazily roaming around the open shopping complex.

secondly, he blamed ni-ki. like, did the boy really have to drag heeseung away because he saw a michael jackson DVD (limited versions only) on display?

granted, that particular compilation was seemingly not available anywhere else without having to pay a price so scandalous that it hurt to think about. and the singer did happen to be ni-ki's favorite.

but gosh, how selfish could people be?

most importantly, though, he blamed your ex.

for? his mere existence.

it had been going just fine, peachy even, right until that person showed up, he recalls, absentmindedly tracing your lower lip—doing his best to ignore the expectant gaze you were directing towards him lest he end up doing something he'd regret.

well. regret more than he does already, that is.

when your previously cheery smile had suddenly been replaced by a pall of worry, he couldn’t help but immediately mirror your concern. you had anxiously clutched the edge of his sleeve, murmuring that you had just happened to see song eunseok. also known as your ex.

“i just… i really don’t want to face him right now.”

that was understandable. sunghoon wouldn’t want to see the face of the man who had been such a horrible boyfriend to you (your words, not his; circa last july, pre-heeseung era) either, lest he end up lobbing a punch his way.

“do you think you could hide me?” he could practically see the unease wrapped in a sheath around you from the way you chewed on your lip, “please?...”

what was sunghoon supposed to reply to that? say no to your plea? as if he could ever.

so he did what any dutiful friend would do. he let you use him.

an arm braced against the wall and another awkwardly fidgeting by his side—he wasn’t sure where it was considered appropriate to keep one’s hand while helping their friend’s girlfriend hide from an ex—he stood leaning towards you.

his broader, taller frame could cover yours with laughable ease. should the ex boyfriend happen to glance your way, he wouldn’t even realize there was another person there.

it was fine even up until that point. it wasn’t like sunghoon couldn’t control himself and immediately took advantage of the situation. no matter how much he really, really wanted to.

he would never do that to heeseung or you.

all he needed to do, he thought determinedly, was to not make eye contact and hope that this was over soon.

but suddenly, you were tugging him closer, saying the position seemed way too odd, too awkward. and now he was closer to you than ever, and quite aware of the fact that he was sweating bullets.

“hoon?... are you okay?” you had piped up, voice slightly muffled due to quite literally being pressed up against him, “you seem so flushed… is it because of the sun?”

no, it was most definitely not because of the sun.

he vaguely recalls replying back with some offhanded agreement to your words. you, bless your heart, had immediately brushed the back of your hand against his forehead, checking if he was truly okay.

sunghoon swore his breath hitched at the contact. noticeably.

only then did it sink in. the reduced proximity, the charged air brewing between your bodies. he really shouldn’t be getting any ideas.

"?..."

“i’m fine.” his voice was low, cautious. he ran his tongue across his lips, wetting them—a nervous tick of his. “you need to stop this.. a guy can get the wrong idea, you know?”

you had only giggled at that airily, “no wrong ideas here, i promise.”

then, as if it was the most natural thing to do—it might as well have been, with how perfect it was—you had tipped your head upwards, placing a soft kiss right at the corner of his mouth.

“am i still being unclear?” your head was tilted at a 45° angle, playing off a cute innocence.

... there was no way he could say no to that, rationality and morals be damned.

and so instead of gracing your teasing remark with a dignified comeback, he simply let you close the distance between your lips once again.

park sunghoon usually prides himself on being a man of dignity and honor, sure. but right now? right now, the only thing he’s sure of is that he’s fucked up. big time.

heeseung… one can only imagine how his friend would react to this information. none of the possible scenarios that run through his head are any good.

with a jolt, he jerks away; the hurt look on your face doing nothing to break his resolve. (mostly.)

“this isn’t—this isn’t right. you have a boyfriend, heeseung… he—he’ll be devastated.”

“what?” confusion spreads across your face, genuine enough if he stopped to take it in. “sunghoon, no that’s not it—”

“we—it’s best we forget this happened. i, um,.. i won’t say anything to him.”

a blink. and you’re laughing. wait what?

“ah…” the way your head is thrown back as you struggle to keep a straight face almost distracts him. “heeseung is actually going to burst out laughing, oh my god.”

before he can even comprehend what that could mean, you show him your phone screen opened to a chat between you and your boyfriend (?).

fake boyfie hee ☝🤓 : dude if you’re planning on making out w/ hoon rn do NOT do it in front of me and niki i beg.

fake boyfie hee ☝🤓 : cause like it’s one thing having to hear ab how u bad u want him 24/7 (it gets to a point oh my god?)

fake boyfie hee ☝🤓 : go get ur man by all means but i do nawt need to be seeing allat !!!!!

“see? i only made him pretend we were together because eunseok was being a little bitch. it was super funny seeing his reaction, if that helps!”

sunghoon’s not sure if he wants to now laugh himself or instead cry. maybe both at the same time? he would rather not scare you off already though. hence, he does the next best thing.

he kisses you once again. softer this time, as if he’s taking the time to savor the moment.

you part for air only when it becomes an absolute necessity. “what was that about?”

“i need to make up for lost time. all this while, i really thought i had no chance. and…” a pause that indicates he’s struggling to find the right words.

his tone is sheepish when he finally says what’s on his mind.

“and... i could’ve been a better fake boyfriend, by the way. for the record.”

𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific @jessxxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstattion @flipitkickit @douqhnxtss @soona-huh @amoressb @nicholasluvbot @manariee @rinrinninnin @ddeonuswife @douqhnxtss @lovenha7 ⋆

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risuola · 9 months ago

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FEELIN' LUCKY || GETO SUGURU

Suguru has a reputation of a playboy — and rightfully so. He likes to change girls, bedding them as he pleases. He thinks he can have them all. He's a player, a red flag and you show him he's wrong. It's a story about a boy who has everything but craves to have you.

contains: frat boy!suguru x nerdy!reader, pining, maybe a little slowburn-ish, flirting, smut (unprotected sex, some body worship, mentions of hooking up, booty calls, sexting), wc. 9420 ⋯ reader discretion is advised

kinktober '24 masterlist || art in the header: @/chu-cho on tumblr

Suguru knows how to navigate around the campus. He’s tried all the shortcuts, been on all the parties, talked (and fought) with all the teachers. He’s known around — troublemaker, a frat boy, a heartbreaker. It’s no news to anyone that Suguru Geto is a red flag personified; a ladies’ man, playing with every beauty he deems worthy of attention. And he’s lucky too, girls tend to love him, all of them. After all, bad girls love bad boys and good girls, unfortunately, do too. He’s a flame that attracts all the moths, a sin that tempts and renders every heart helpless. He’s a siren song luring women towards their doom. The ultimate playboy, reveling in the attention he gets everywhere he shows up, soaking it up like a cat basking in the sun.

It’s unfair, he jokes sometimes, when he aims to add another notch to his bedpost. Unfair how easy it is for him to have what he wants, how all that meets his gaze is heart-eyes and flushed cheeks. But he likes it, he likes to take, he likes to be wanted and pick from the crowd. It boosts his ego. He is, after all, drop dead gorgeous. He is, truly, with his long, raven hair and purple glint to his eyes, all surrounded by an air of sexy danger coming from his piercings, his clothes and the way he acts.

“Who’s that?” He wonders, mind rushing through the extensive catalogue of female students he knows. “She’s new.” Clearly. He doesn’t know you yet.

You’re pretty, too pretty for him to let you go just like that. You came to the party at the frat house, but you don’t seem to fit right in. Maybe you’re a transfer student? Or a friend of someone? It doesn’t look like you’re someone’s girlfriend. A man that’s sane would not let you wander around such place alone. Not in that dress. You’re gorgeous, breathtaking. You make Suguru’s heart beat a little bit faster, his pulse quickening and he can hear it in his ears, a steady thump echoing over the sound of music. It’s excitement — something he has not felt in a long time.

His friends say something. He’s not listening, eyes laser focused on you and only you. You move with grace, your hips sway from side to side like a pendulum as you find your way through the crowded living room. Your cup is empty, it’s clear from the way you tap it with your fingernail every time someone tries to stop you — you’re pointing on it, gesturing your intentions as you try to speak over the loud music and blurring chatter. You seem polite too, the way you smile brightens the area. He likes how it reaches your eyes, how your nose scrunches a little and the skin near your temples crinkle. Everything about you is hypnotizing, you know what you’re doing. You have to know what you’re doing. You’re magnetic and he wouldn’t be able to resist even if he wanted to.

He doesn’t.

You push through the crowd and Suguru follows, a predator stalking its prey. You are, after all, like a sweet little rabbit tonight. His eyes never leave your back, watching the way your hair sways and bounces with each step you take, how the fabric of your dress hugs your delectable curves. You look soft, he’d love to touch you, to squeeze those plush thighs, to feel the pliable flesh of your rear, to have your chest squeezed against the hard planes of his muscular torso. He wonders how soft your skin is under the fabric, if it’s smooth and warm to touch. He wants to find out, to explore every inch of it until he maps out every mole, scar and birthmark. He licks his lips subconsciously, his tongue swiping over the piercing in his lower lip and he wonders if you’d like it — if the cold metal decorating his mouth would be something you’re into.

He catches you in the kitchen. You’re holding a can of strawberry flavored soda and looking around, and he knows what you’re searching for. “Hey there, beautiful,” he greets smoothly, flashing you a smile that’s known for making girls weak in the knees. “Allow me,” he reaches, taking the cold metal from your hands — his fingers brush against yours as your eyes met, the touch lingering a little longer than necessary but he’s content as he swiftly opens the can for you, earning himself a chuckle.

He’s already got you.

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the drink back and filling your cup with the pinkish liquid. It smells sweet, the delicate aroma of artificial fruit breaking through the typical mixture of sweat and alcohol that fills the room. It’s refreshing, the scent, the look of bubbles dancing at the edges of your cup. You take a sip, tasting the flavor on your tongue and he wants to try it too. From your lips, preferably. Those glistening, cherry-colored lips. Oh, you look delectable.

“I’m Suguru,” he grins again, his eyes scanning your breathtaking features and committing the picture to memory. “I don’t think we’ve met before.” He already envisions you below him.

“I doubt that too,” you nod and you know he’s attracted to you. It’s clear from the way he looks at you, eats you with his eyes only. Obvious from how his gaze lingers on your lips a little longer than he should but you allow him. You introduce himself too and he repeats, testing the name on his tongue.

“What brings a gorgeous woman like you to our little shindig?” He extends his hand out to shake yours, his thumb brushing over your delicate skin as his touch lingers.

“I got invited by one of my friends but I can’t seem to find her in this crowd. I’m sure she’s having fun somewhere though, it’s alright,” you explain, briefly looking over the students crowded in the main area of the house. Most of them are drunk already despite the quite early hour but you don’t mind it. A frat party is exactly what you expected it to be. “I wouldn’t honestly dare to call this a little shindig.”

Suguru chuckles lowly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Well, I suppose ‘little’ was an understatement,” he grins and sips on his own drink. “How do you like it so far? Do you enjoy the mingling masses and blasting music or maybe I could steal you away? My room is just upstairs.” His eyes flick down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze again, a hint of mischief dancing in their violet depths. One step closer and he’s invading your personal space just slightly. “Because I could show you a good time, if you’d like. Just the two of us, away from all that noise and chaos,” he finishes a little quieter, a little lower. His tone is meant to seduce, to tempt you and he knows it always works. In his mind, he’s already alone with you, he imagines tracing your curves as he trails kisses along your jawline. His touch feels electric against your skin and you have to give him that — he sure does know how to get the attention he wants.

“I appreciate the offer, but I came here for the noise and the chaos,” you reply, smiling as your hand finds his wrist in a gentle caress meant to put some distance between his fingertips and your skin. “It’s not every day I get to attend a party such as this one,” that said, you’re ready to retract when his free hand meets the curve of your hip. You hear a hum and he’s suddenly much closer, you feel his breath on your lips, a mixture of mint and something strongly alcoholic. A little sweet too. A coke, maybe. There’s warmth bouncing off of him, one that you feel tingling on your skin when he leans down to meet your height. The tip of his nose teases yours before it moves to the side, running over the lines of your cheekbone.

“Are you sure?” He asks, smirking as he waits for your resolve to crumble. Not a single girl before you had resisted his charms and you surely are not going to be the first. He enjoys the challenge you present. Most girls would have melted under his touch but you remain composed. He likes that. He likes a woman who knows what she wants. “We could make our own noise, create our own chaos.”

“I’m content with all that’s happening here,” you hum, slipping out of his embrace. “Thank you for the company, Suguru. It was nice to meet you,” and you’re gone.

He stands there, dumbfounded. He stands there, once more looking at your back and he cannot believe what happened. A bunny that slipped from the hands of a wolf, girl that rejected Suguru’s charms, A moth that said no to the flames of his lust. A challenge he’s not going to pass on.

He smirks.

Before, he just wanted to have you.

Now, he has to have you.

And he will do whatever it takes.

Over the next weeks, Suguru has not given up. He hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, his interest in you hasn’t diminished; if anything, it’s grown stronger with each passing day. He’s determined to unravel the enigma that is you, to uncover the secrets hidden behind your captivating eyes and sweet smile. There’s something about you that made him desperate. A mystery he cannot quite unravel, a puzzle he can’t solve. And he thinks of you. He finds himself lost in thoughts of you more often than he’d care to admit. He spots you around campus occasionally, always looking effortlessly stunning and each time, he feels that familiar pull, that undeniable attraction that draws him to you.

Maybe it’s him, who’s the moth.

He doesn’t like this. How you always brush his advances off, how sweetly you smile while doing so. Every time he wants to touch you, you slip right through his fingers. You have tainted him with longing he has never felt before, you ruined him. He doesn’t want other women anymore, the line of booty-calls and flings blocked and removed from his phone. The nights he spends thinking of you, fucking his fist and swearing to all gods above and below to change, asking for a chance to sink his teeth into you. Because he doesn’t want anyone else. And he doesn’t know what you have done to him.

“Fancy seeing you there,” he remarks, settling himself beside you on the bench outside the library. The afternoon is particularly sunny, warmth caressing your skin as you sit comfortably, engrossed in a book. “Mind if I join you?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for the response, as he leans over to glance at the title of your read. “Ah, philosophy. A deep thinker, huh? I like that.”

“Do you?” You ask, nudging a bookmark between the pages. “You don’t strike me as a philosophical type. You seem to me more of a live-in-the-moment kinda guy.”

He chuckles. “You’d be surprised,” he replies, his tone light and teasing, “there’s more to me than just good looks and undeniable charm. Although, I won’t deny that those are pretty great assets,” he winks playfully. Suguru leans back on the bench, stretching his long legs out in front of him. The ripped, black denim exposes a bit of his thigh, the ink of his tattoos peeking through the dark threads, drawing your attention.

“Oh, the confidence. It’s much more valuable trait than the outside looks,” you hum, leaning against the backrest too.

Geto laughs, a rich, warm sound that carries easily in the quiet outdoor setting. Then, he turns to face you fully, his expression turning serious for a moment. “But you’re right, I’m not usually one for heavy books and deep discussions. I prefer to keep things light and fun.” It’s a confession, he admits to it with a hint of vulnerability that’s quickly pushed behind his typical grin. “Besides, a guy can learn a thing or two from a smart, beautiful woman like yourself.” He flirts, but there’s an underlying sincerity to his words. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Tell me, what’s so captivating about this particular tome? What insights does it hold to have captured your attention so thoroughly?”

“It’s a tale of a man discovering what really matters in modern life, a story of loss and reconciliation. The narrator, whose days are counted due to sudden diagnosis, meets the Devil who offers him an extra day of life in exchange of making one thing in the world disappear,” you explain briefly and he watches your fingers dancing over the front cover of the book, tracing the lines of the simple graphic of a cat. “There comes the question, how do you separate out what you can do without from what you hold dear? I think it’s something we don’t pay much attention to in our lives because we have everything within reach, but what if something just… disappeared? The narrator has to take responsibility for each one of his decisions. There’s no going back, there never will be, once a thing is gone, it’s gone.”

Suguru listens intently, his expression thoughtful as he absorbs your words. “That’s quite… It makes you think, doesn’t it?” He muses, nodding slowly. “It makes you wonder what you’d choose to erase if given a chance to live just a day longer.”

“The question of how to decide what’s okay to remove and what’s not is what makes me think the most,” you look up. The day is beautiful today, fluffy clouds travel sparsely over the azure blue sky, the sun warms your skin with its golden rays and the birds sing, hidden within the crowns of the nearby trees. You hear some chatter, somewhere from the distance where other students pass by, you hear the cars that honk impatiently as they stand in the traffic and you hear a dog barking. There’s a park not far away. “Some things that are insignificant to me might be the entire world to someone else.”

“So you think the burden of consequences might outweigh the price of life itself,” he notes, his eyes studying the lines of your profile. Your eyes, reflecting the blue of the sky, your cheeks flushed from the wind and sunrays. He thinks the color of your scarf makes your complexion looks brighter. “I don’t know if I would be capable of eradicating something from the world permanently. At first, I thought it might be easy, just get rid of something small and simple, but then it made me wonder if things I think are unimportant, truly are so.”

Truth is, Suguru doesn’t think he would dwell much about the topic if not you, but he wonders what if. What if he made a decision that would cause a war? Or someone else’s loss? What if a thing that he picks results in him not meeting you?

“That’s what philosophy does to you,” you chuckle, turning your gaze back to him, just to meet his eyes glued to yourself.

“But maybe that’s what makes life worth living,” he turns to you fully, his eyes wondering as he drops his usual playfulness and mischief. “It’s much easier to pretend we have control over our lives and the world around us rather than confront the harsh truth that we are all just tiny cogs in a vas, unpredictable machine. But maybe it’s the uncertainty, the constant surprises, the knowledge that anything can change in an instant what makes the journey worth the effort.”

“Maybe it is,” you nod, taking a moment to let his words sink in. “I wouldn’t expect you to engage in topics such as this. I apologize,” you offer a smile and he melts.

“You know, most people assume I’m just a pretty face. They don’t expect me to have substance beneath the surface,” he muses, his expression turning thoughtful before he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess I do give them the reasons to do so. But I really enjoy talking to you. It’s nice to have conversations that aren’t just surface-level flirting and innuendos. There’s just something about you...” He trails off, reaching out tentatively, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger against your skin for a moment before falling away. “I like how you challenge me, make me think deeper than I usually do. You are a puzzle I can’t wait to solve.” His gaze locks with yours, his expression open and vulnerable in a way you haven’t seen from him before. “Can I see you again? Like this, I mean. Just talking, getting to know each other better.”

The question hangs heavy in the air as you consider it. You will meet him again, one way or another, somewhere around the campus or at another frat party. You will see him again as he targets another girl, flirting his way into another pair of panties. And you exhale, your lips curving upwards slightly as you lean your head on your fist, elbow on your knee.

“Suguru,” you begin, his name slipping over your tongue with ease you enjoy. But you know better than this. You have seen it all too well how he treats women. “I enjoy conversing with you and if it’s just talk that you want from me, then I will find time to meet you again. But I need you to know that I will not allow myself to be another notch on your bedpost. It’s easy to get swayed by your charms, but I know your reputation and I know it for sure that if I had to give up one thing in the world, it would never be self-respect.”

And he knows for sure that if he had to give up romance for the rest of his life just to have you, he wouldn’t think twice about it.

“I don’t want to charm my way between your legs,” he swears, too quickly, too desperate to make himself believable and he groans, annoyed by his own self. He nervously runs his hand through his dark, raven hair. “Just, please, give me a chance. I won’t lie to your face and say that I’m suddenly ready to settle down or that I’m done sowing my wild oats entirely. I know what kind of reputation I have and I can’t deny that I’ve played the field more times than I can count. I’ve earned it fair and square,” he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. All of the lustful nights flashed before his eyes, the nameless girls, the empty promises and unanswered calls afterwards. All the nudes, all the sexts, all the quickies in the locker rooms and dingy bathrooms. Suguru would give them all away if only earned a chance to be with you. “I want to change. I already started to change. You don’t have to believe me right away, but you are different. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was something special about you. And I won’t lie that I’m not attracted to you physically. That would be impossible. But there’s more to it than that. Something worth pursuing beyond just a one-night stand.”

“And what change are you talking about?” You quiz. “Because as far as I am concerned, I’ve seen you flirting with some girls just yesterday.”

And he winces, unable to deny your accusation. “You’re right, I did flirt with them. It’s become a second nature to me, a habit I can’t seem to break easily.” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair once more, frustrated. “But it didn’t go further than talk. I didn’t… I’ve stopped sleeping around. I blocked and removed all the girls’ numbers from my phone, deleted the pictures I had. Fuck, I even declined an invitation for a party with my pals, for the first time since high school. Look,” he leans in, his eyes locked with yours and his hand finds yours. You feel his thumb rubbing soft circles on your knuckles and you wonder if it’s to soothe you or himself. “Being with you, talking to you… it’s opened my eyes to what I have been missing out on. I’ve spent so long chasing meaningless encounters, never allowing myself to form real connections with anyone and now, I’ve tasted something more substantial and realized just how hollow my previous pursuits have been. I want to do better. For you, yes, but also for myself. I want to prove to you that I’m capable of more than just cheap thrills and empty promises.”

It’s true, everything he says. He is ready to drop the player mask, to shed his frat repute just to have a chance at something real, something that makes his heart flutter in his chest and his stomach bubble with butterflies. He is ready to say no to easy sex just to fight for your attention, your touch, your heart.

He is genuine, but you just hum, your expression unreadable as you weigh your next words. You like him desperate. You like how his violet eyes sparkle with puppy-like vulnerability rather than a flirty mischief. And he is beautiful, you cannot deny it — a man of impressive built, clad in ripped jeans and leather, heavy boots and a band tee. He looks like he bites, and you know he does. You take in the sight of his piercings, the large gauges, the snake bites in his lower lip, the piercing across the bridge of his nose, right between his captivating eyes and the one right above his left brow. You wonder what kissing him would feel like. Would the metal come in the way? Or maybe it would add to the experience?

“I’m not sure what to tell you,” you sigh. “I will give you a chance if you think you can change. But you’ll need to prove it. Think about it.”

And he did.

The lonely nights he spends at the frat house, laying in bed instead of partying with his friends, he wonders where the path of his change will lead him. What if it’s him, confronting the devil and having a chance to lose himself just to earn a day with you? He thinks he’d take it. He’s sure he would. He flips on the mattress, his eyes squinting as the lights from his phone blinded him with a new message. An unknown number. He opens it, it’s a picture, a bare body that he recognizes by the butterfly tattoo on the ribcage. A nude from one of his exes. She must have gotten a new number because he remembers vividly how he blocked her. Usually, he wouldn’t think twice about it, he’d reply with something cheeky, possibly send an explicit picture of himself, maybe set up a meeting or invite her over. His fingers typed the message before his brain managed to intervene and once he hit ‘send’, he cursed out loud.

“Fuck, you idiot!”

A pillow flew across the room as he stared at the ceiling. Would it hurt to go once more with no strings attached? It’s been some time since he’s gotten laid and the vision of tension coming off of him was a temptation beyond measure. But what about you? What about a change he had promised?

Is the change even for him?

Suguru stares at his phone screen, the message he sent glowing mockingly back at him, a shameful reminder of his weak self-restraint. The girl already replied, they always reply so fast, and he doesn’t know what to do. He knows he fucked up, he knows he shouldn’t have responded. He shouldn’t have even entertained the idea of hooking up with his ex, or any other girl. It goes against everything he told you, everything he promised.

With a heavy sigh, he tosses his phone aside, despite the notifications flooding his inbox. More pictures, the location, the time — an annoying ding makes his blood boil and he groans, burying his face in his hands. He feels conflicted, torn between his desire for physical release and growing feelings for you. He wants to be better, to be the man you deserve, to be the man that deserves you. He wants to prove to you that he’s serious about changing, but old habits die hard. The temptation is still there, lurking in the shadows of his mind, waiting for a split second of vulnerability.

He tosses and turns in bed. His thoughts race with the pictures of you, his mind replaying every conversation, every shared laugh and stolen touch. He remembers the way your eyes sparkled when you discussed philosophy, the passion in your voice as you told him about the importance of self-respect. He realizes that those moments were more fulfilling than any other fleeting pleasure he’s experienced before.

But he gets up anyway, he pulls up his dark-washed jeans and a hoodie, socks and boots and he’s ready to go. With a jacket grabbed in the hallway and a phone in his hand, he leaves the house. The crisp air of near winter hits him the moment he steps outside, cooling the blood in his veins and clearing his thoughts.

12 unread messages.

He groans again, this time into the nightly silence as he strides through the pavement, legs leading him in the direction of his doom. Suguru slips the earphones in, plays on the music but the melody and lyrics are helpless against the chaos in his mind.

It’s pointless, to resist his own body. He knows it’s pointless, he knows he has control over his legs and deep down he knows he would reject the booty call if he truly wanted. You deserve a better man anyway, not a player that fucks around like it’s a sport. You deserve someone who would worship the ground you walk on, a man of culture and manners with whom you’d engage in long, deep conversations late in the evenings, not a man-boy who cannot control his own dick. But fuck, does he wants you.

He wants you so bad, he wants to be all those things for you. He wants those discussions about philosophy and life, he wants to kiss your knuckles and be the knight in the shining armor, carrying you in his arms and shielding you from the world and assholes such as himself.

He lights up the cigarette, taking a deep breath in and looking up. The night is pretty. Calm. He wonders if you are already sleeping. Or maybe it’s one of those nights that you pull in order to study and secure your grades. The semester just began but he learned it already that you care about your future more than he does about his own. You’re a little nerdy. He thinks it’s cute. He can imagine himself wrapping a blanket around your shoulders when it’s late and carrying you to bed when you’re falling asleep on top of the books and notes. You would fit perfectly in his arms.

“You fucking moron,” he slanders himself quietly, already seeing the motel in front of him. He shouldn’t be there but he moves forward anyway. He knows his ex is already waiting for him, he can tell by the lights in the room they always used to book for the casual encounters. He stops before he enters, giving the smoke few more moments to burn. He can feel it in his lungs, somehow calming as he checks his phone, scrolling through the notifications.

One of the messages is from you.

It’s innocent in the sea of suggestive texts. There’s an apology for the late hour and a book title that you promised to send him a day before. The one you’ve been reading for the last few days and the one that made him rethink his entire life’s choices. There’s not much substance in the message, but it shakes him awake.

The turn he takes is aggressive, it’s resolute. Heavy boots thudding against the concrete panels as he walks away from the motel. ‘Sorry, not coming.’ He sends the message and blocks the number, feeling lighter the second he removes the nude picture and the unwanted contact.

It takes just an hour before he knocks at your door, the dormitory silent in the nightly time so he keeps himself quiet. You open after a long moment, dressed in a make-shift pajama. He likes the way your hair is messy from the pillows, how you smell like vanilla and flowers and coffee. You look so pretty like this, so undone, so unexpecting yet not entirely disappointed to see him. You seem… content?

“Suguru?” His name comes from your mouth and you usher him inside, afraid of someone seeing him. Once the doors shut behind him, your eyes search him for answers.

“Brought you some food, I thought you might need it,” he grinned, showing off the box of pizza and a bottle of soda. “I figured you’re studying tonight and might need some fuel.”

“So thoughtful,” you tease, but the smile that shapes your mouth reaches your eyes, so he knows it’s genuine. He follows you to your bedroom and he’s not surprised seeing the notes all over your bed and scattered on the floor. The papers full of sparsely highlighted knowledge that you want to transfer into your brain take most of the space before you gather them onto a neat pile. He sits right there, on the newly uncovered spot on your mattress. It feels intimate, to be in your room, to rest on your bed, to see you in your pajama. He wonders if you know what the sight of your thighs does to him, the plush, tender flesh begging to be touched, kissed and kneaded. Suguru thinks your skin would look beautiful with bitemarks all over.

“So, pizza,” he clears his throat after letting his eyes linger for way too long on your bare legs. “I took pepperoni, I hope you like it.”

“It’s perfect,” you smile and separate the barely cut pieces for easier access. “I appreciate the thought, really. But there was no need for you to leave the house just to do this.”

“For you, I would do it at every hour,” he says and then sighs deeply. “But truth is, I didn’t plan this.” Suguru feels like he’s inside the confessional. It’s a foreign tension, completely different from the one he felt just hour before. The knot in his stomach has nothing to do with lust and desire and all to do with stress and regret. “I’ve received a booty-call from my ex. That’s why I left the house,” he spats it out quickly, thinking it’ll hurt less if he does it in rush. “I didn’t go there though. I told her I’m not coming, blocked the number and came here instead.”

You stay neutral, chewing on the pizza as your tired eyes size him up. “Old habits die hard, huh?” You mock, slightly amused by his tormented expression. His eyebrow creases before he lets himself drop back onto the mattress, a soft grunt escaping his mouth as he covers his face with his hands.

“I meant it. I want to change and I’m working on it.” He says, his voice quiet and devoid of his usual cheekiness. “I fucked up when I entertained the idea of hooking up with a random person tonight but cut me some slack, I didn’t do it.”

“Good boy,” you mock-praise and he groans again, but then his entire body tenses when you lay next to him. He feels your breath against his cheek, the tip of your nose prodding the flesh. He doesn’t move, too afraid to ruin the moment. “Do you regret it? Not going, I mean. Be honest, don’t say what I want to hear.”

“I don’t,” he replies, his tone resolute. “I don’t regret not meeting my ex and not having sex tonight. I was pent up — fuck me, I still am, and when I replied to her text, I didn’t think much about anything except for my dick. But I don’t regret not going because I didn’t want to go. And I’m grateful that you texted me because you reminded me what really is important. Right now, it’s you.”

It makes you smile. He’s torn inside of his mind but you take it as a win anyway. Before, Suguru wouldn’t second-guess pulling his pants down and now you made him think. Now, you made him reconsider; wonder who he is without the façade of the charismatic ladies’ man. He will have to learn to navigate social situations without relying solely on his charm and wit to get what he wants. But he can do this. For you.

Before he speaks again, you’re asleep already. Sideways on the bed, most likely uncomfortable but right next to him and he doesn’t dare to move a muscle in his body. You’re sleeping, your face just an inch from his own. The soft fragrance of your skin fills in his nostrils and not even the smell of pizza nearby can disturb it. There’s a hair somewhere around his face, he doesn’t know if it’s yours or his own, but it tickles his cheek every time you exhale. It’s fine.

An hour passes and he finally gathers the courage to shift, as carefully as he can, he turns to his side, to face you. You’re a vision he takes in with his eyes wide open, committing the picture of your peaceful expression to memory. He likes everything about you, every hair of your eyebrows, every freckle and beauty mark. He likes the way you look so unbothered, so comfortable next to him. He wants to touch you. Oh, how much he craves to caress your cheek, to thread his fingers through your hair. His heart thumps in his chest, reaching speeds matching those of sprinters. The feeling is foreign. Is this…? It cannot be. Suguru Geto is not about… that. His entire life he believed he’s meant to have fun, no strings attached, no responsibilities. What did you do to him?

You move and he stops breathing. It’s an instinct, he thinks, that you shift closer to him, but he tells himself you want that. And you fit so well against his chest, your head below his chin, your hand around his middle. The room spins and he wraps you in the embrace of his arms.

He feels your heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and suddenly, he calms down. It sinks into his mind that it’s where he wants to be. All the years of empty flings, the mediocre orgasms, the shameless pursuits could never compare to the feeling of you in his arms. That’s what he has been missing on. And he will do everything to be the man deserving of you.

Time passes, and Suguru slowly falls into the rhythm of his newfound resolve. It’s easy to decline hookup invitations when he can spend time with you, but maybe he did feel a little too confident when he decided to attend the big, annual party at the frat house. It’s Halloween, after all, how could he not go there when everyone will come? Quickly he falls into familiar routine of charms and alcohol, nursing a beer from a red plastic cup and chatting playfully with attractive attendees. His friends push him towards temptation, inviting more and more girls to the crowd and Suguru feels drawn to the lively atmosphere, the flirtatious banter comes as easy as breathing.

That is, before a pretty sophomore dressed in a devil costume takes a seat next to him — a seat he has kept for you, because you promised you’ll come, despite the need to study. It’s fine if the girl sits there for a moment or two, he thinks, as he engages in a conversation. He knows, it’s as obvious as day, that the second-year beauty is interested in getting into his pants — her hand on his thigh, the fluttering eyelashes and pouty lips say everything about her intentions. As the night progresses, he finds himself more and more… uncomfortable. Surprisingly.

And so, he feels relieved when he sees you in the crowd, late but looking absolutely adorable in your sweet bunny costume. It’s simple yet makes his pants grow tighter as he takes in the way the plain black dress hugs your curves. The fluffy tail bounces with each step you take through the filled living area and the long, pink-lined ears swing just slightly along with your hair whenever you move your head around, looking for something — for him and his heart skips a beat. In that moment, everything fades away — the raucous laughter, the pulsing music, even the sophomore girl next to him.

Excusing himself from company, he forces a smile as he brushes the invasive hand off his thigh and gets up from the sofa, making his way over to you. “Hey there, cutie,” he greets, pulling you into a hug and you melt into his chest in an instant. “Glad you could make it.” He breathes in your scent, letting it calm his nerves but it does little to calm other things down. Fuck, you look perfect.

“How could I miss my favorite frat boy sporting a vampire costume?” You quiz, backing up a little to take in his attire. He’s wearing all black, a dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, pants that make his legs look even longer than they are. His eyes are smudged with little bit of black eyeliner but it works for him, he looks sexy. “Aren’t you a pretty one. I might consider letting you bite me,” you tease, and he knows you’re joking but it doesn’t stop the blood in his body to travel downwards.

“Careful what you wish for, bunny,” he muses, “I might just take you up on that offer and sink my teeth into that delectable neck of yours.” His fingers intertwine with yours as he lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he leads your arm up onto his shoulder. “God, I missed you,” he murmurs as he lowers his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He feels you chuckle, your nails scratching at his scalp as you thread your fingers through his dark locks. Once more you proved him that the change is worth it, because it’s you who’s on the line. “Dance with me?” He asks and you move with him towards the makeshift dancefloor.

Suguru pulls you closer as you enter the rhythm of the music, one hand resting on the small of your back while the other twirls you around gracefully. You’re giggling, amused by the undivided attention he pays you — he’s sweet when he has his eyes on the target, when he has to work for something. He dips you dramatically and your hand tighten on his shoulder, but it’s secure, the way he holds you as if he wished to protect you from all the bad in the world. His eyes lock with yours as he pulls you back up, flush against him. The heat radiating off both your bodies mingles together, creating an intoxicating aura that threatens to consume you whole.

You don’t really listen to what’s playing, a melody mellows in the background as his hands trace patterns along your sides and hips, follow the line of your spine, sometimes teasing the fluffy ball that is your tail. His touch ignites sparks wherever he grazes, leaving trails of fire in its wake. He’s hungry, for you, and you are too. It’s hard to deny it any longer and you think that maybe, just maybe he is ready to commit to something more than just a fleeting romance. It’s been months since he began pursuing you and his attention has been focused solely on you, despite the obstacles and temptations of his life. A reward wouldn’t hurt now, would it?

“I need a drink,” you tell him and he’s quick to react, taking your hand and leading the way towards the kitchen. He knows what you like, snatching a can of strawberry soda from the counter. When you nod in approval, he opens it, too hasty, too eager, that he doesn’t realize the way it bubbles over, spilling over the aluminum container and his fingers. Before he can react, your lips are already on his skin, licking away the sticky trail of pinkish liquid.

Suguru freezes as he feels your tongue glide across his skin, tasting the sweetness of the spilled soda. A shiver runs down his spine at the sensation, his breath hitching in his throat. Desire darkens his eyes, pupils dilate as he watches, transfixed, how you lick the sugary mess from his fingers. The sensation sends jolts of electricity coursing through his veins, pooling in the pit of his stomach. He breathes out your name, but you’re quick to shut him up.

You pull him down, your hand in his hair as you press your lips to his own. He tastes the strawberry sweetness of the soda on your tongue as it dances with his own, the flavor mixing deliciously with the taste of you. The dripping can is soon forgotten on the fake-marble countertop as he scoops you closer, arms wrapping around your waist securely. He can feel the heat of your body through the thin fabric of your costume, the softness of your curves molding perfectly against the hardness of his muscles. He’s eager, he moans lightly into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips. You feel the cold metal rubbing against your face, it’s interesting, it’s addicting. You like it.

“Always wanted to try that,” he pants out when for a moment you pull back. He chases your mouth, hungry for more, desperate.

“The soda?” You ask, pressing soft pecks to his pout.

“You.” He lounges forward once again, unsatiated and you don’t stop him. You don’t hear music anymore, all that’s rumbling in your ear is the sound of your heartbeat. You feel the heat in your veins, the flooding of ecstasy filling your cells one by one. There’s no space left between you, but you take a step forward anyway. You feel his hips rolling, a desperate cry for any sort of friction and when you slip your hand down, palming his groin through his pants, he groans into your mouth as his hips buck involuntarily into your touch. “Please,” he begs, eyes locking with yours as he leans his forehead against your own. He can feel himself throbbing beneath the confines of his pants, straining desperately for more of your attention. “You want me too, please tell me you do. I can’t… It hurts, I crave you so much, it hurts.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmur. “Your room is upstairs, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he breathes out. “But I won’t take you there. You deserve better than this place and my filthy bed. Let me take you to my apartment.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and you follow him anyway, your hand incased in his large one, sticky from the spilled soda but none of you seem to care as you saunter through the dancing crowd of young people. Just to get outside.

The walk is a blur, you don’t remember much of it and so does Suguru. The night air is crisp, sending chills down your spine and the boy teases you about it, promising all the warmth he can produce in just few moments. You laugh with him, unbothered by the cool wind that tousles your hair. “It’s just around the corner,” he promises and you hum, matching his pace as he leads you through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo. The world blur into nothing, all you see is the man that holds your hand, the blue-ish hint to his hair whenever the lights fall on it just right, the sticky heat of his palm. You can still smell the faint strawberry aroma; you can definitely feel it on your tongue even though you didn’t manage to truly take a sip of it.

And you laugh again when he fumbles with the keys to his apartment. “Nervous?” You tease him playfully. “You have no idea,” he replies, smiling sheepishly and the entry finally swings open. He ushers you inside, kicking the door shut behind him and flicking the lights on.

Suguru wastes no time, pulling you flush against him once more as he presses you against the nearest wall, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. His hands roam your body greedily, mapping out every dip and curve, learning the shape of you and you do the same. He shrugs the jacket off and you’re quick to explore the broad lines of his shoulders, the hard muscles of his chest and stomach. You feel him everywhere, the hungry touch devouring every inch of your form. He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down the column of your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin and you whimper breathily — the sound undeniably similar to his own name.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, guiding him lower as he reaches your chest. His kisses grow more wet and delicate as he meets the soft mounds of your breasts, tightly confined by the neckline of your dress. He breaths in your scent, an intoxicating mixture of sweet and floral. It makes his head spin, it’s addicting. He wants more.

It’s easy to slip the dress off of you — first the straps and then the garment goes down, inch by inch revealing the smooth expanse of your skin to his starved gaze. He drinks in the sight of you, his eyes roaming hungrily over the newly exposed flesh and in that moment he swears he has never seen a more beautiful woman in his entire life. His fingers skim along the edges of your bra, tracing the lace delicately before he leans in again, kissing your lips with softness that speaks more than any words could. He wants you, but he wants to worship you. He doesn’t want to make it all about lust and desire, he wants to make it about you and him. About whatever is this feeling that bubbles between you.

And so, he moves down slowly, lips mapping out the curve of your collarbone and down the path to your sternum. His hands follow your curves with gentleness he doesn’t recognize in himself. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his hot breath meeting the skin of your stomach, “just breathtaking,” he lowers himself to his knees — something he has never done in his entire life, used to have women at his feet.

“Suguru,” you breathe out but he doesn’t listen. Not when the skin of your thighs feels so soft against his cheeks, not when it tastes so delicious as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses along the plush flesh. Your fingernails find a way into his hair and he dives between your legs, encouraging one of them to hook over his shoulder. He savors the scent of you, his nose rubbing against the fabric of your underwear, prodding at the little wet patch. He licks it, his tongue flattening over the cotton, catching a hint of your taste — and that’s enough to make him go crazy for you.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he breathes out, every exhale that meets the wetness of your panties sends jolts of electricity up your spine and back down to your core. He presses his lips to where he thinks your clit is, you feel him sucking gently and it’s enough friction to feel yourself pulsating. You moan quietly, the sound escaping your parted lips easily as your hold on his hair tightens. There’s no denying that you want him just as much as he wants you. He’s desperate but so are you.

Your knee buckle as he continues the torture and he coos sweetly. “Let’s take you to bed, you sweet thing,” his tone is sugary, a melody dripping with honey as he smiles at you in a way that makes you blush. There’s adoration written all over his face, his cheeks are flushed, lips red and glistening. You want to follow him when he stands up, but he swoops you off your feet, carrying you bridal style towards the bedroom. It makes you giggle.

“Practicing already?” You muse and he just smiles.

“Perhaps.”

Your back meets the cold bedspread as he lays you down delicately. No time is wasted before he’s right above you, right on you — you feel the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. No complains about it. He feels good, his hips rolling in a way that has his bulging erection grind along your panties. You hate the fabrics between you two, you hate how they make you feel less of him.

So you move your hands, slide them between your bodies, fumble with the buttons of his shirt. “Impatient much?” He teases, but helps you, pulling the shirt over his head, saving you trouble of the bottom fasteners. His lips find yours in a kiss that burns and you whimper into it, feeling the warmth spreading all over your body.

You reach down. Button, zipper. Your hands tremble as you push the fabric off his hips and he kicks it down. He helps himself with a hand and soon, his pants are on the ground, along with his socks and your bra, that you impatiently toss away. Suguru’s heart rumbles against his ribcage as he takes in the sight of your bare chest. It’s perfect, you are perfect and he cannot believe the luck he has — after years of chasing simple pleasures and meaningless peaks, he had finally found someone he wants to call his.

He feels your heart underneath his cheek as he leans down, inhaling the scent of your skin — his nose trails patterns over the soft flesh before he presses his lips to it, kissing his way towards one of your nipples. It pebbles beneath his touch, hardening as he latches onto it, sucking and teasing it with teeth, twirling his tongue all around. He matches his ministrations with his fingers, not letting the twin feel left out. Your taste is of pure heaven and the sounds that leave your mouth are ones of an angel.

There’s a patch of wet on his boxers, right where the throbbing head of his cock strains against the fabric — the precum oozing out as he grinds his hips against yours. It makes him insane how you reply with the roll of your own, to match his moves, to cause more of that delicious friction that sends both of you into a spiral of desire.

Unable to wait any longer, you hook your fingers at the waistband of his underwear, tugging it down and Suguru replies with the same — pulling the soaked cotton off of you. He wants to taste you, and he will, but not now. He reaches down, guiding the tip of his cock between the folds of your pussy, the head sliding with ease as your slick mixes with the pearly beads of semen. He loves the way your thighs tremble every time he glides over your sensitive clit, how your breath hitches and eyes close.

“Ready?” The question falls and you nod fervently, your hands finding his shoulders for balance. “Use your words, beautiful.”

“I’m ready,” you assure and then, your back arches off the mattress. He slides in inch by inch, stretching you, filling you so completely, making you go blind for a moment. The pain burns just faintly, losing its flames to the flooding of endorphins and pleasure. He goes in to the hilt, his body shuddering as he drops his head to the crook of your neck.

The feeling overwhelms him. The way your pussy grips him, like a vice that almost pulls him in more and more. It’s delightful. Ecstatic. It’s something he’s never experienced before. Is that what love feels like? He moves, slowly backing his hips until there’s nothing but a tip nestled inside you before he pushes forward again, knocking the air out of your lungs and his own too.

You paw at his arms, his back and chest. You want him closer, you want to feel all of him. Stars are clouding your vision, the world ceases to exist and there’s nothing else in it but you and the man on top of you. He feels so good, like he’s meant to be right there with you and Suguru feels the same. Like he found home, like he belongs there, in the warmth of your embrace, in the tightness of your walls. He loves the way you cling to him, the way your nails dig into his skin and your heels dig into his ass, urging him to go harder, faster. He complies, his hips snapping against yours as the wet sounds of your bodies colliding echo through the room, alongside your moans and gasps.

He changes the angle, shifting his hips to hit that spot inside you that makes the stars glitter before your eyes. He knows he’s found it when your back arches off the bed, your nails scoring down his back and a scream tears from your throat. He loves the sound, he loves the sight. He loves how you come undone, how beautifully blissed out your expression is, how your eyes lock with his even though you see nothing but haze. He grins, a smile lost against your skin as he continues pounding into you relentlessly, chasing his own high. He can feel it already, it threatens to consume him. His balls draw up tight, his heart races in his chest.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his groans and whimpers against your tender flesh as his hand grips your hip tightly. You match him thrust for thrust, nails leaving angry red marks in their wake. You feel the pleasure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you feel you might explode. Your walls start to flutter around him to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the desire coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Suguru gasps, his voice strained with exertion. He knows you’re close, it drives him insane. “I’m gonna—” He cuts himself off with a guttural moan as his climax hits him like a freight train. He follows you into the pit of pure delight, headfirst, no thoughts. Just pure, overwhelming bliss.

He collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, as his hips buck forward few more times, riding out your highs with stuttered thrusts. You both lay there, panting and sweating, basking in the afterglow of passion. His softening cock slips out of you, followed by a gush of combined fluids but none of you worries about the mess, too blissed out to care about a thing.

“Wow,” he breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, finding your pulse with his lips. “That was incredible.”

You giggle softly, carding your fingers through his sweat-dampened locks. They feel like silk, soft and luxurious. “Mm, it certainly was.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he exhales, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms. He presses a tender kiss to your temple, marveling at the intimacy of the moment. It feels new, like an uncharted territory that he wants to explore further. With you. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmurs, his voice barely above whisper and sincere. “I want to be better. To be worthy of you.”

You hum, lifting your head to look at him and all you see in his violet eyes is raw honesty and a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. “I believe you,” you tell him, leaning in to capture his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. There’s no more rush, no more lust — just pure, soft affection. “And I want to help you change. Together, yeah?”

Suguru smiles against our mouth, his heart swelling with love he never knew he was capable of.

Together.

2K notes · View notes

thequeenreaders · 14 days ago

Text

largesse.

➵ kento nanami/f! chubby reader

july 3rd, the birthday of the ex-salaryman named kento nanami, who is now a first-grade sorcerer and also your beloved husband. knowing full well of his hard working nature, you were resolute on spoiling him and doing anything he asks for.

realm: smut, fluff, established relationship, 18+

caution: fluff, pretty heavy body appreciation, lots of kissing, pet names, explicit smut, mirror sex, slight insecurity, hinted praise kink, fingering, some nipple play, suggested multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare (like the king gentleman he is 👏)

length: 4,3k

notations: this was supposed to be a few years ago but my unmotivated ass left and forgot about it. seeing how near his birthday actually is, i suddenly had the urge to finish it! and it’s nanami so ofc, he only deserves the best (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) hope you enjoy it, buns! ᰔᩚ

index

The sizzling of bacon as it touches the hot pan echoed from the kitchen and to the living room, cracking of fresh eggs soon followed and gently tilted it out of its shell, small pops of sounds bubbling as the albumen of the eggs gradually turned white. The smell of greasy bacon and toasting of a baguette created an aromatic fragrant that no doubt escaped the kitchen and spread throughout the whole floor, filling both nostrils of the couple with the food's delicious scent.

Quiet sounds of a romantic song from your phone play in the corner of the counter and soon, you find yourself humming along with the melody while assembling the sandwich that the blonde man at the other side favors so much. Just thinking of your man had your mouth bloom a grin. The day finally comes where you can spoil your husband reasonably without him gently scolding you for doing such a thing. He believes that you should be the one receiving more gifts than him and you were completely against the idea as soon that statement fell off his lips.

Hence, you made sure to be extra cautious when climbing off the bed in the morning, not wanting to ruin your surprise by having the tired man awaken from his slumber and pull you back into his embrace. Prior to this, you have actually asked the white haired sorcerer if a certain date is available for Nanami to have a day off. After avoiding Gojo's attempts of teasing and maybe a few flirtatious remarks, he allowed it.

Concurrently in the living room, the tall man is occupied with a book and his eyes skimmed on the off-white print as he took a good sip of his hot tea. He felt a surge of relief when the brew warmed his body and gently placed it back on the low table in front of him. As Nanami relaxed his back against the downy sofa to resume reading, a lovely croon perked his hearing and it spawned an endearing smile on his face. He turned his head towards your direction and spotted his plump wife slicing some fruits on a cutting board.

You have your back facing him, not being able to witness the closed smile he was sending your way. His expression may be a bit subtle but it holds great fondness and adoration that only his beautiful spouse can behold. Kento then traced the curves of your body with his eyes, the satin robe that you have on hugged your figure exquisitely and it ends on your mid thighs. The adoring gaze that he has on you was enrapt on your exposed legs, hypnotized with the slightest jiggle it made whenever you move.

The delectable fragrance and the bewitching sight of his woman tickles his senses, causing him to unconsciously lick his lips and his mind has started to wander. Before his thoughts could get any salacious, the plump lady turned around with a tray full of fresh aliments and a small smile plastered on her soft face. When Nanami brought his gaze up, he found her eyes were already on him and could not help but return the grin.

“You don’t have to do all this, sweetheart. It’s quite unnecessary to make this much food.” There might be a hint of sternness in his voice but his eyes hold so much devotion and care that it betrays his usual persona, and only Mrs. Nanami can witness such rarity.

You just beamed at him and cautiously set the tray down, enabling Nanami to have a glimpse of the sizable amount of breakfast that was prepared for the both of them. His stomach produced growls from seeing the homemade food made by his beloved wife but did not expect it to be quite loud, embarrassment seething in him. (Y/N) lightly chuckled from the sound and turned to face her dear husband, moving closer to perch on his lap and caressing both of his cheeks.

“It’s your birthday, silly. Give yourself a break and indulge yourself.” You gave him a heartwarming smile as you held eye contact with each other, his brown orbs gazing into yours swarm your tummy with butterflies. You feel like your heart is going to explode from the love you have just for this man, and you wonder how it’s possible to keep falling—slowly, sweetly—even after everything.

You didn’t think your heart could hold more, and yet it does.

He moved his face closer to yours, the intensity of the eye contact greatly increasing and noses slightly bumping with each other.

“I always have and that’s you, darling,” murmured the sorcerer as his hands lazily roamed up and down your thighs, lips faintly touching one another while he spoke. You giggled and delicately stroked his cheek with your thumb, feeling nothing but endearment for him.

“You’re so cheesy, Ken- mph!” Your words were swallowed by Nanami as he suddenly leaned forward and captured your lips, his grip on your hips got a bit tighter. Immediately melting into the kiss, you rested your hands on his broad shoulders and returned the lip locking with the same fervor.

His hands proceeded to wander on your bottoms, broad palms gliding over the roundness of your rear and down to the fullness of your thighs, the smooth and light material of your satin felt soothing against his hold but it is nowhere near as pleasant as the delicate skin of his wife. Countless times he has explored every curve of your body, making certain that not a single part of you was left untouched by his lips and hands, and it will never grasp to Kento that it is something he’ll get bored of. If he ever even thought of such things, then the privilege and honor of marrying you was wasted on the wrong man.

He didn’t even believe it at first, that an angel such as yourself is deserving to be his, yet no matter the times that he tried to ignore his feelings before, he endlessly finds himself longing for your touch, your very presence within his reach and this time, he let his body mold to the gentle warmth of your embrace. As if he was meant to be there. Blessings are not so common in Kento Nanami’s life, but once it presents itself in front of him, he wouldn’t let it escape from his hold. He’s not letting it go. He’s not letting go of you.

His life is yours to take, as yours is his to hold.

Kento relishes the sensation of his caressing touch on the curve of your waist, your shapely figure forever seared in his mind, as it then slides back down to your thighs and his fingers slid beneath your robe, deliberate and slow, brushing against the softness of your beautiful skin at last. A firm knead on your bum induced a soft gasp out of you and he uses the space to slip his hot, wet tongue into your mouth. The creaminess of the tea wove with your taste, the toned down malty flavor of his beverage tickled your buds but you paid no mind, as though it were a part of him; an essence he carries without thought. The faint scent of earthy and warm of his woody cologne has seemed to brand itself on him, as it always invades your smell whenever your man is within your arm’s reach, even when it’s subtle, and it never fails to make you woozy.

You’re breathless, caught in the flood of sensation–sight, sound, touch all blurring into heat as he continues to claim your lips. Rough palms against silken curves of your arse, tearing himself away from the breathless exchange, though his breath still tangled with yours, just so his heavy-lidded eyes could make contact with your own, and it would only last for a brief second before he leans in again, as though his lips were made to meet yours, chasing the warmth he left behind. Every inch of his presence has your mind turning haze.

Only then it pulled you into awareness when tips of his fingers lightly brushed over your panties and his skin met with a dampened fabric, and it was enough to evoke a groan out of him. You reach for his wrist from below while you use the other to pull away from the fevered kiss, just before he could get any ideas and escalate the situation further. A soft flush was plastered on his defined cheeks and heat began crawling up to your face as his efforts to capture your swollen lips, yet again, were kept at bay.

The airy sound of your soft laugh graces Kento’s ears, drawing him softly from his daze. The way your husband looks at you—lovestruck and full of awe—only melts what little is left of your unguarded heart. You wonder how there’s still room to fall deeper when you’re already drowning in him.

You keep a firm grip on his hand as you guide it back to your waist, stopping it from drifting anywhere near your aching heat. It’s far too early to surrender, and far too cruel to let the food grow cold. “Kento! Stop it, our breakfast is getting cold!” You didn’t miss the way his lips curl into the faintest pout; barely there, but entirely endearing, as you rose from his lap and sat beside him. Reaching for the plate of the sliced baguette sandwich, you cradled half of it and brought it softly to his mouth. Nanami gave a small smile before he sank his teeth into the sandwich, the gentle crisp echoing in the quiet room and before long, the flavors had hit him all at once.

His eyes fluttered shut in relief and a hum of approval rumbled from him. “Delicious as always, my love.”

A beam rose to your face at his praise, your mind doing a quiet victory dance at the success of your endeavor. Nanami has never been shy about voicing his appreciation, especially when it comes to compliments, whether it’s about your gifts or simply you. Even after all the years you’ve spent together, his words still make you bashful. And truthfully? You’ll never tire of them. You only ever want more.

It was your turn to take a bite, and a soft moan slips from your lips as the warm, buttery garlic baguette melts on your tongue. Fresh, crisp vegetables add a bright crunch beneath generous layers of savory meat, while ribbons of melted cheese and a whisper of tangy dressing bring everything together in perfect harmony. You can’t help but wonder if Nanami fell even harder for you because of your cooking. Well, who could blame him?

Kento pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you lingered over the meal you’d just prepared, scooping a forkful for him each time he paused to savor his bite. Bacon and eggs, a bowl of fresh fruit salad, buttered toast with a thin spread of jam—it was a simple breakfast, yet made with care, and served with even more.

He didn’t say much, but the quiet hums of approval, the subtle lift of his brows after each taste, and the way he leaned just a little closer each time you fed him said enough. Mornings like these, when the world slowed down and the room filled only with the sound of clinking utensils and shared silence, felt like your own quiet eternity.

“Perfect,” he murmured after another bite, not looking at the plate this time, but at you. And that single word? It fed something deeper than hunger ever could.

You averted your gaze from his smoldering stare and gently set the emptied platter back onto the tray. With a handful of napkins nearby, you grabbed a few and softly wiped away the crumbs clinging to his mouth.

“It’s your day, honey. Do you have any plans?” you asked, crumpling the used napkin and tossing it onto the tray with the rest of the finished dishes.

Nanami pondered for a moment, his arm draped over your shoulders, thumb idly stroking the silky sleeve of your robe. “Given how last-minute today is, I don’t have anything particular in mind.”

You leaned into him with a knowing smile, your fingers tracing slow, idle patterns along the back of his hand. “Well, we got the whole day for ourselves,” you said softly, “so whatever you want to do, we’ll do. Anything you want.”

His gaze remained on you. The heat from earlier lingered, simmering just beneath the surface. Nanami hadn’t quite let go of the slow-burning warmth from your earlier make-out session—breakfast had only been a pause, not an ending.

His thumb slowed against your arm. “Anything?” he asked, his voice dropping, thick with implication.

You felt your cheeks warm, but you didn’t shy away. Instead, you pressed in closer, lips brushing just beneath his jaw.

“Anything,” you breathed, the promise settling warm between you.

Breathy whimpers rang within the shared haven of the couple. The bedroom breathed comfort and the sight was inviting: soft wrinkled sheets from all the motion, a gentle glow spilled from the lamps, and the familiar scent of berries and cream soap radiating off of you and into the air, bringing warmth to every corner. Yet, it wasn’t the ambience of the space that had you in a throbbing ache.

The bed gave out a quiet creak at the slight jolt of your hips, clear nectar of your pussy heavily leaks in between the suppleness of your inner thighs as Nanami remains delving his large fingers in your gushing heat, curving them inside you with ease. He has your legs laid open over his muscled ones, yourself almost splayed against his built torso, the two of you settled at the end of the mattress.

A full length mirror stands before you, reflecting every act of intimacy laid bare for your eyes alone.

Your own quiet stare caught sight of uncertainty lurking beneath, eyes tracing every softened angle of your frame; your breasts sprawled out with your nipples perked up in attention, belly rolls forming as it folds in on itself, thighs becoming seemingly larger than it is as it rests on Kento’s, each and every curve of you bouncing at the smallest movement either you or him makes, your slickness glistening even in the dim light, and the shameless squelch it creates as his coated digits slips in and out. It’s such a sight to behold.

Even with the tiniest flicker of insecurity bubbles within you, at this very moment, you can’t find yourself to lie…

You look absolutely ravishing.

“Do you see what I see, my sweet?” whispers the blonde as he leans into you, his hot breath tickling your side as his teeth slightly graze on the shell of your ear, “You’re shaking already.”

A quiet cry trembled out of you, the coil in your lower abdomen becoming tighter by the agonizing second, “Please… Ken.” Were you pleading for your beloved to stop? Prevent yourself from drowning in the waves of pleasure from his fingers alone and you can’t bear to release another one again and again? Or were you begging for the opposite? Let you sink in the flood of sensation and have your whole, luscious being quiver under his strong hold?

Your body says yes, but your mind lags behind.

Your back arched as his other hand fondling with your tit began toying with the nipple, tenderly brushing his fingers over it and giving a few pinches, only escalating the build up of your impending peak. You felt him coo in your ear, “Look at me as you come, (Y/N).” At the mention of your name, you tilted your head back up at the mirror and you caught his eyes, his unrelenting stare scorching onto you as he proceeded to quicken his rhythm, the obscene noises of your wetness only grew louder.

Your sight was slowly losing its focus. This wasn’t your first orgasm, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, not with the way your body kept trembling, already aching for more. Despite everything, your head was starting to wander and it directed your hand to give the man behind you the same favor. Or at least try to.

Reaching from behind, your hand clasps on his throbbing cock, smearing the oozing tip with your thumb and using it to paint all over his length for smoother strokes, and to relieve some ache on his end. As intended, a grunt tore from his throat and his body became tense at the sudden heat of your hand, causing the pace of his fingers to stutter. However, undeterred by your actions, he only moved faster.

His hand then abandoned your boob and rather grasped your jaw and held you in place, guiding your vision back to the reflection in the mirror and having his eyes burn into yours, on edge to see you break once more. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he breathes against your neck, lips trailing heat along your skin. His gaze never strays from the mirror — watching every twitch, every tremble, and with a final whisper, “Let go for me.”

Your mind blanked, stolen by the warmth that bloomed low and wide, a deep ache curling through you like fire wrapped in silk. Every nerve screamed for more; not just touch, but the weight of it, the rhythm, the surrender. Each breath trembled on the edge of a moan, your body caught in that fragile space between tension and release, where time stuttered and all you could do was feel.

Nanami witnessed it all. How you fell apart in his arms, clinging to him like he was the only thing anchoring you to earth. Your sweet core pulsed with endless slick, soaking his fingers as he refused to slow. Each stroke was deliberate, and every now and then, his palm brushed against your needy clit, sending sparks through you that made your hips buckle.

As the fleeting seconds of bliss begin to drift away, your body sagged, and he caught you gently, never letting go. Kento cradles you for a while, his hands gently massaging the sensitive curves of your inner legs as he watches the steadying rise and fall of your breath.

“You did such a good job, sweetheart,” he murmured close to your temple before pressing a tender kiss on the same spot.

You nestled closer into his embrace, feeling the steady warmth of his body against yours. His fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns along your skin, grounding you after the storm of sensation. Every gentle touch was a silent reassurance, a promise that in this moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you.

Kento’s breath brushed your ear as he whispered, “I’ve never seen anything more exquisite.” His voice was low, filled with awe and something deeper, something that made your heart flutter despite the lingering tremors in your body.

You lifted your gaze to meet him, eyes still glistening with vulnerability and satisfaction. In his look, you found not just desire but pure, unwavering affection.

Slowly, he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a kiss soft and slow, like a gentle tide washing over you, drawing you back from the edges and wrapping you in quiet intimacy.

The kiss deepened, slow at first, as if he was still savoring the afterglow between you. But soon, his hand moved—sliding from your thigh to your hip, anchoring you closer, as if he was tracing something sacred. His lips grew hungrier, his breath warming against your skin as he whispered your name between kisses.

Desire stirred again, curling low and warm in your belly. You felt it in the way his fingers tightened just slightly, in how his body pressed against yours with growing need. The steady rhythm of your breaths began to shift, syncing with the quiet heat building between you.

When he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searched yours; not for permission, but for connection. For confirmation that you wanted this too.

You gave him a small nod, lips gently parted, breath shallow. That was all he needed.

He captured your mouth again and his hands were already exploring, slow and sure, as if relearning every inch of you. The soft sheets underneath your bodies ruffled as he guided you back up to your knees, his touch growing bolder, more insistent, yet never rushed.

The kiss broke slowly, leaving a breathless silence between you. Kento’s hand lingered along your cheek before gliding down to your waist, his touch steady, guiding.

“Turn around for me,” he murmured, voice low and thick with want. “Just like that… sit back against me.”

You shifted gently, your limbs still warm and pliant from the remnants of pleasure. With his help, you knelt between his legs, your back pressed to his chest. His thighs opened wider to cradle you, and your hips instinctively moved, seeking the comfort and heat of his body behind you.

Kento’s arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close. One hand splayed across your pudgy stomach, the other resting just beneath your breast, fingers tracing idle, reverent circles along your skin. His mouth hovered near your ear, lips brushing softly.

“You feel perfect like this,” he whispered, breath warm as it skimmed your neck. “I want to feel all of you.”

You pressed your hips back, breath hitching as you felt the hard length of him nudging against you. His hand slipped lower, sliding your juices onto his cock before guiding himself between your thighs. You gasped when he pressed in, slow and unhurried, filling you inch by inch from behind. The stretch was different—deeper, angled to brush places that made your legs shiver.

Kento groaned softly against your ear, his grip tightening just a little as he held you there, fully seated on him. “So good… you take me so well.”

His hips began to roll, steady and deep, and you melted into him, your back arched slightly, arms reaching to grasp his thighs as the rhythm built. Every thrust rocked you forward, only for his hands to pull you right back, keeping you close, connected, completely his.

The room faded away—just the soft sounds of your breathing, the wet slide of bodies moving as one, and the tender words he kept whispering into your skin.

The rhythm grew messier; less controlled, more desperate. His breathing hitched behind you, every thrust deeper, his grip firmer, and the pleasure inside you coiled fast and tight, like a thread ready to snap all over again.

The earlier high still lingered, soft and simmering beneath your skin. Your body, already tender and primed from the way he touched you before, responded quickly. Every push of his hips, every graze of his hand on your stomach, reignited that spark with ease—making it easier to fall, and even harder to hold back.

"Kento," you gasped, voice shaking, "I’m close–"

“I know,” he whispered, voice low and reverent. “Let me see you.”

You weren’t sure if he meant in the mirror or right there in his arms, but maybe it was both.

Your eyes flicked forward.

There you were, straddling his lap, his body curled behind yours. His arms wrapped around you like you were something divine. Your mouths parted in sync with every breath, skin flushed and damp, connected in every sense of the word.

Kento’s gaze never left the reflection. He watched your body tremble, your lips part, your brows knit in pleasure. He drank in every detail as if trying to commit it to memory; eyes filled with awe, worship, and something deeper. To him, you looked like something plucked from a dream too perfect to be real.

Then you came.

Your body seized with release, pleasure tearing through you with breathtaking force. A choked sound escaped you, and your hands reached above to grip onto his clinging arms for support, grounding yourself as wave after wave rolled through.

Behind you, Kento groaned, deep and low. He tightened his grip, thrust once more, and spilled inside you with a trembling exhale, his gaze still locked on the mirror. Watching the way your bodies held one another, the way you clung to him like home.

The only sound left was your mingled breathing, heavy and uneven in the quiet room.

He moved gently after that, shifting your body in his lap without a word. You settled sideways across him, your cheek pressed to his chest, heart still racing. One arm cradled your legs while the other anchored your back. His touch was firm but soothing, his palm warm as it moved in slow, calming strokes along your thigh.

Your eyes fluttered closed, but Kento’s remained open. Still focused on the mirror.

You didn’t need to ask what he saw, you could feel it in the way he held you. How his thumb brushed the dip of your waist. How he kissed your forehead like you were something fragile, something cherished.

When you finally looked up, your foreheads met. He glanced away from the mirror just long enough to meet your gaze directly.

“I love you,” you whispered, voice soft but sure.

His expression softened. “I love you,” he murmured back, brushing his lips to yours. “You’re everything. Thank you… for today. For always.”

You smiled, fingers combing gently through his hair as you nestled closer. He kissed you again, slow and unhurried, the kind of kiss that lingered long after it ended.

Then, your eyes found the mirror one more time—where his arms still held you close, both of you bare, glowing, and tangled in something far deeper than desire.

You looked back at him with a quiet smile and whispered,

“Happy birthday, Nanamin.”

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wollycobbl3-blr · 6 days ago

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i apologize for the person ive become in the tags. i did this shit on impulse and my fingers went mach 5 over the keyboard

phainon being the boy next door is keeping me alive tbh. either childhood friend or hot neighbor, idc, just let me fantasize about the hot guy next door and blush when he sees me staring at him from my window while he does yard work or smth

#WAIT YOURE COOKINGW ITH THIS. wait this would be so funny and/or cute icl #im imagining this in a very specific house/neighborhoot layout #im so sorry for the person im abt to become in these tags. i had my tabs out for like hours and my brain activated so fucking fast #what if. hear me out. we hit two birds with one stone; have BOTH hot neighbor and childhood friend BUT!! but but but. one or the other move #away a whiiiile ago. like kinda far back. it'd be funny for it to be phainon bc he has a rlly unmistakable appearance. right. he moves into #the area and is greeting the rlly nice neighbor! he has no (every) idea as to why they're staring and stumbling over their words... but has #zero idea as to why a part of this staring and stumbling over words... feels off. and they vaguely look rlly familiar! small world here!#and then there's you. crashing the fuck out. how did ur sweet sweet childhood friend from like YEARS ago turn out to be this HAWTIIIEE??#lowkey wondering if he even remembers you (didnt tell him ur name bc you were ogling) but wld much rather prefer it if he DIDNT.#“past me was such a loser.. but am i rlly any better? im too out of his league” and then u ultimately decide to stay a spectator in terms #of shooting ur shots w him and stuff. and tyhis is the part where we make throttling gestures towards someone who doesnt exist because #FUCK. YOPU ARE SO STUPID/. TALK TO HIM!!!!! but tbf i wouldmny be able to talk to a rlly pretty guy either... siiighs why is life so cruel #you sadly drag your palm down the glass of your window and mourn how hot he is while doing yardwork. phainon can feel the eyes on him and #thinks that its actually really fucking funny. AND YKW? BONUS POINTS IF HE'S A FUCKING TEASE. dyt he'd smile at the window you're camping #before giggling when you duck down to hide. dyt he'd keep wearing white shirts. dyt that he's cute while playing w dogs or just abt anythin #(really) dumb x (hot) dumber type shit icl. its been [x] yrs since you last saw e/o and he cant see you in your face... but eventually #in the stuff that you like or things you mention that 'coincidentally' are things that have 'happened in his childhood'. you're so in love #with him. do not get me wrong. but you are DYING from all this. how is he so delectable but so. SO. SOOOO. theres a part of u that w2kys /j #GIVE HIM A BIT. HE'LL GET IT. IN LIKE TEN CHAPTERS OR SOMETHING. YOUR COMPENSATION IS VERY DESCRIPTIVE EXCERPTS #OF HOW HE LOOKS OR HOW SWEET HE IS. HOW CAN YOU GET MAD AT THAT? /j #when the boy next door is both unmistakably attractive. but already had your heart because you KNOW that it's the same starry-eyed boy #from when you were young dumb and all sunlight in the clear sky. childlike giggles turn into awkward laughs #“i REALLY cant put my finger on it but i seriously think ive seen you before” / “haha... ha... i meannnn funny coinkidink!”#BECAUSE DO YOU WANT HIM TO SEE YOU AS YOU WERE. OR AS YOU ARE. ARE YOU BETTER OR ARE YOU THE SAME? ARE YOU WORSE?#at least you can distract yourself with how great he looks in that compression shirt #im sorry for writing an entire fanfic. take a shot whenever i apologize #but yes this was in fact written w boynextdoor songs in mind (kpop group) but ALSO sticky by kiss of life. (also kpop)#HONORABLE MENTION. DILAW BY MAKI. PAKKKKSHET AYOKO NA NGINAMO #o7 im so fucking sorry LMFAO #its almost 2am and im locked out

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redr0sewrites · 8 months ago

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im a handful (but thats what hands are for)

🍇A/n: the title is a song lyric,,,, iykyk

🍇Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise + degradation, pwp, fingering, riding, breeding kink, a bit of angst???, implied switch!Touya, fem!reader

🍇divider

you and Dabi had always been complete opposites in terms of demeanor. while he was carefree and frivalous, you always prided yourself on being complex and thorough. with the ever burning tension between you two, it was no wonder that you had ended up in the position you were in now- although this was certainly not the first time- pressed down on your bed with one of Japans, no, the worlds most dangerous criminals finger fucking you to hell and back.

"there she is," he whispers, the same words as the first time you'd let him fuck you. "knew there was a pretty little slut under that cold exterior."

you follow your script with practiced expertise, repeating the same words you'd uttered all those months ago- and so did he.

"ffuck you-"

"isn't that what i'm already doing 'ma?"

Dabi was mesmerized with you, to say the least. from the hitch of your breath when he first curled a finger into your pretty cunt, to the soft whines that slowly fill the room with each ministration, followed by the delectable squelch of your pussy as your clit rocks against his knuckles.

it was clear in every sense of the word that he was purely obsessed, almost worshipful- not limited to, but especially in bed.

"yea? y'like that?"

piercing blue eyes watch your every move, keeping careful catalog of every twitch and shudder you make in response to his actions. Dabi's thumb finds your clit with practiced ease, and he rubs swift circles over the sensitive bud.

"Dabi, oh-h, fuck-"

"thats not my name, hun," he coos, leaning down to press an almost condescending kiss to your forehead.

"y'really are worked up, huh? c'mon, we're all alone, you can say it."

"ffuck, Touya!"

"there she is," he smirks, curling his fingers and sliding in a third as you whimper. you can practically see his mind whirling with sawtrap level plans to keep you in bed with him, to finally let him truly be yours. in all the times you both had slept together, you had never fallen asleep beside him, never stayed the night, hell, never even mentioned it outside of the bedroom. it had started off as a challenge, but that soon melted into a raw, desperate, carnivorous need to be yours. Touya had never been wanted, so he rarely even dared to allow himself to want in turn- but fuck, did he want you.

he watches you as you cum like a sheep watches its guard dog, knowing deep down that you could ruin him, sink your teeth into his neck and tear out the remains of his bleeding, broken heart- and yet, the dog stays ever loyal, defending its livestock even at its own expense.

your ability to speak seemed to flee as your orgasm washes over you, sending ripples of pleasure across the planes of your body. all the while Touya continuously pumps his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, prolonging your pleasure as the world around you fizzes in and out of focus.

"y'alright?" he rasps, pulling his hand away from your sticky cunt- only to lick your release right off his fingers. you make a face and he snickers, and for just a second, you can see a ripple within the veil of time, and instead of one of the most dangerous people in the world, a snarky, beautiful young man is sitting in front of you. that was the difference between Dabi and Touya in your eyes- he could act cold and nonchalant all he wanted, but behind closed doors, he was your Touya.

"you want a taste?" his words pull you from your stupor, and you roll your eyes.

"no thanks, i'm good."

"are you sure? you taste sweet, y'know," he teases, and you laugh in spite of yourself.

"bull."

"don't knock it till ya try it," he snickers, before shifting to stand up. your body reacts without thinking, and you grab his wrist.

"where are you going?" you demand, and he turns to look at you, almost.... surprised.

"i was gonna go get something to clean up, but i guess if you'd rather be covered in your own slick-"

"what about you?" you motion to the obvious strain in his boxers, and he rolls his eyes.

"you worried about me, doll?"

"sit back down."

he obeys almost immediately, your commanding tone wiping the attitude out of his demeanor- but it isn't enough to diminish the teasing smirk off his face.

"why? ya gonna suck me off?"

"no," you murmur as you begin to shift closer until your hovering over him. with one hand, you push him down against the mattress, and he relaxes compliantly, like a ragdoll beneath your fingertips. you look down at him, lust clouding your gaze as he stares up at you with those big, blue eyes.

"then what're you gonna do, ma?" he mumbles, voice noticeably raspier.

"you'll see, Touya. be patient." you continue to hover over him, keeping yourself from fully straddling him just yet. he'd already shed most of his clothes earlier, leaving him bare before you in nothing but his boxers. his cock is already hard, straining up against the thin material of his undergarments.

you take your time to admire the pretty scene laying down in front of you- and pretty it is. his scars are even more defined in the dim lighting, and the streetlights from outside your window illuminate the silvery piercings holding him together.

you had been cursed- or rather, blessed- with intrusive thoughts of tearing them all out one by one with your teeth while he burnt you alive from the inside. it was disgustingly, beautifully gruesome, almost carnivorous, the way you loved- no. lusted for him. you desperately want him to be your undoing- and you, his- but you could never let yourself love him. not when he would never love you. you keep that in mind as you trail a hand over his chest and pectorals, yet your heart pays careful attention of the way his breathing hitches at your gentle touch.

"so pretty," you murmur, before leaning down to press a kiss to the conjunction of his neck and collarbone. Touya practically melts, getting all squirmy and unsure beneath you like he always did whenever you show him any attention.

"shut up," he hisses, but his words hold no bite as he shudders beneath you.

"mhm," you continue your assault on his neck, pressing gentle kisses across the scarred flesh.

"you nervous, Touya?" you tease, and he sucks in a breath.

"i said shut up."

"of course, baby~" you coo, pretending to ignore the strained whine that leaves his mouth at your words. he always got like this after a long day, all compliant and needy, but it was rare that he was this quiet. you indulge his good behavior, and your hands, which were previously exploring his chest, travel down to find purchase on the waistband of his boxers.

"can i take these off?"

"yea," he rasps, lifting his hips up off the mattress to assist you in removing his undergarments. his cock springs free, lightly tapping against his stomach in its erect state. you once again marvel at his complacency, and your heart flutters at how much he trusts you. then your brain tells your heart to shut the fuck up. regardless, you make eye contact with him as you spit into your palm before gingerly running a finger up the side of his aching length, causing Touya to grit his teeth to prevent another whine slipping out.

"don't tease," he grumbles, blue eyes narrowing in adorable irritation. you hum, watching the way his body tenses as you situate yourself above his aching length, aligning him with your entrance. scarred hands tentatively hover over your hips, and he looks up at you almost questioningly. you give a nod of approval and he grabs your soft flesh, rubbing small circles with his thumb over the plush of your hips.

"y'ready?" you mumble, before slowly sinking his tip between your folds. Touya nods breathlessly, watching as your cunt slowly begins to swallow up his length. his tip slowly protrudes into your gummy walls, and you shudder around his size. he's barely halfway in and he's already practicing breathing exercises to keep himself from cumming too early, with the way your squeezing him so tight.

you watch his stomach twitch beneath your hand as you sink further down his length. Touya's head is thrown back, and with every inch engulfed into your aching heat he lets out a few more tantalizing noises. your thighs burn as you finally seat yourself on his cock, with your clit ever so lightly brushing up against his navel as you get situated. you give yourself a second to get used to the slight burn you've associated with having him inside of you, and Touya squirms beneath you as he too struggles to adjust.

slowly but surely, you begin to roll your hips against his, marveling at the way his tip kisses your g-spot. Touya gasps as you raise your hips, almost letting him slip out of you entirely, before slamming yourself back down hard onto his cock. he lets out a strangled moan, squeezing your hips so tight youre sure that they'll bruise.

"yea? y'like that?" you parrot his words from earlier, rolling your hips in a desperate effort to coax out more of his lovely noises.

"ha-ah, fuck, you're so-o tight, 'm not gonna last, m'gonna cum in this pretty pussy," he slurs, looking up at you with hazy eyes.

"yea? s'that what you wanna do Touya? gonna make me yours?"

Touya nods eagerly, rocking his hips up into yours. his thrust hits your g spot perfectly, and you let out a wanton moan. he immediately takes a firm hold of your hips, pistoning his cock up into you again and again, repetitively hitting that spot so deep inside of you.

"you can, y'know." you pant, sweat dripping from your brow.

"huh?"

"cum inside."

Touya sputters something incomprehensible, and you have the audacity to giggle. at him.

"m' on the pill, hun. y'really are worked up, huh?"

Touya lets out a choked moan, recognizing his own words being spat back at him as he rolls his hips impossibly harder against yours. a scarred hand reaches between you both to rub harsh circles on your clit, and you gush, clenching around him at his ministrations.

"i, hah, 'm close- i want you, closer, please," he babbles, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you tight against him. Touya nuzzles into your chest, his lips finding purchase on one of your nipples. your pussy squeezes him tight as he sucks lightly, and his cock twitches once, twice, three times before he cums. he presses down hard on your clit as he spurts inside you, continuing to fuck his release deeper into your spongey walls. those actions alone push you over the edge, and you call out his name as your second orgasm of the night washes over you like a tidal wave.

Touya continues rutting up into you for a few more seconds, prolonging both of your orgasms and pressing sloppy kisses to your chest and collar. he isn't sure what to focus on, or even if he can focus. his mind is fuzzy, filled with you, you, you. nonetheless, your happy to indulge as you paw at his chest, continuing to grind down against him until the pleasure begins to melt into overstimulation. Touya can barely comprehend the fact that you had just let him cum inside of you, and it sparked the possessive side of him that so often reared up in these moments with you.

"o-oh fuck, ffuuuck fuck fuck," he's gasping, cock twitching desperately as he pulls out. cum is dripping down between both of your legs, hot release pooling on the sheets beneath him. you hover over him for a second before collapsing down besides him, and a firm arm wraps around your body, pulling you flush against him. Touya marvels as you melt into his embrace, nuzzling into his neck. if he could cry, he probably would, he wants you insatiably, impossibly close. in this moment, he knows that if he could crawl inside your skin, he would. he would tear out his own burning heart and hand it to you on a silver platter in return for moments like this, where he could be soft, where he could be Touya instead of Dabi.

"shit," you mumble against his skin. "that was... wow. better than ever."

"good enough to make you stay the night?" the words slip out before he can stop them, and he regrets it almost instantly as you tense. fuck his sex-addled brain and his stupid mouth. he's fully prepared for you to immediately get up and leave, but instead, you surprise him like you always do.

"i didn't think you wanted me to stay," you whisper, and he blinks hard.

"f'course i did. i still do."

"..okay. i'll stay."

he can't help the smile that stretches across his face as you snuggle into him deeper.

"on one condition- or maybe two."

his heart sinks.

"we clean up first."

damn.

"and you have to promise that we'll discuss this in the morning. i don't want to keep doing... this. if we're going to continue to sleep together, i want to be, like, more than just friends."

Touya is silent for a moment, and he swears that his heart is beating so loud that the entirety of Japan can hear it. you had just said that. he was sure he must be dreaming.

"really?"

"yes, really. now let me go so i can clean this mess up before it dries!"

"...never. i'm not ever letting go of you ever again."

"ugh, you're such a handful," you grumble, curling into his warmth as he lets out a raspy chuckle.

"i guess you're stuck holding me."

"..yea. guess i am"

hey guys ! im so insane over him actually. he's literally eldest daughter syndrome (me) in the form of a traumatized man (i would not fix him. i support his atrocities. id help him fuck up endeavor.)

ANYWAYS SEND IN DABI/TOUYA OR JUST BNHA ASKS OR THIRSTS PLS

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ghostofhyuck · 1 year ago

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𝗗𝗲𝗷𝗮 𝗩𝘂 ✧₊⁺

Summary: It’s been months since you two broke up and Jeno got a new girl now. She’s pretty, nice, and exactly his ideal type. And yet, the ghost of you still lingers, maybe because Jeno brings her to the places you two used to go.

Deja vu? Maybe. Or it’s just Jeno’s not over you.

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: angst, fluff, ex to lovers (?) cheating if you squint really REALLY hard.

Song inspiration: Deja Vu by Olivia Rodrigo

AN: TDS3 D3 Jeno went topless and it was a sign for me to finish this fic.

Also this is part two of this fic. Read it so that you can have more context, but this can still serve as a stand-alone.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“So, where is this ride going?” you asked.

“If I told you, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Jeno replied. A smile plastered on his lips as he took a quick glance at you before focusing on the road.

It was five in the afternoon. The sun’s slowly setting, and the sky’s painted in its godly gold. It’s bright and warm, as the sun’s shine passed through the window of Jeno’s Ford Mustang. You just finished your last exam for the semester. After nights of cramming and chugging down coffee, you’re finally free from the semester. Vacation is just around the corner, and what’s the perfect thing to celebrate the end of semester other than celebrating it with your boyfriend?

You watched as Jeno drove smoothly across town, going down the coastal area where the sunset’s more pleasing to watch. You slide across the bridge and the next thing you know, the sun’s following you through the long bay of your town’s beach.

Jeno knows how much you love the beach. It’s a safe place for you where you can get away from your university. So you two just usually hangout around the coast.

Your boyfriend parks the car near the baywalk. He quickly turns off the engine, and just like the usual thing he does, he leaves the car first and opens your car for you.

“You don’t always have to do this, you know that?”

“But I want to,” he said casually just like the way his arms wrapped around your shoulders immediately, pulling you closer to him. You only smile as he gives you a small kiss on the head.

“So, where are you taking me?” you asked once again.

Jeno only hums as he stops, that’s when your eyes widen at the shop in front of you.

“No way!” you shouted.

“They just opened yesterday, so why not celebrate with a cup of yoghurt?” Jeno smiled.

“Oh my god, I’ve been craving for it for so long!” you shouted.

Jeno only smiles, internally patting himself good job. He knows everything about you, and he knows how lately you’ve been obsessed with yoghurt. Whether it be a drink or served in a cup, you’ll love it somehow.

“Did I ever tell you that I love you?” you asked your boyfriend who only lets out a chuckle before stealing a kiss on you.

“I love you too bub, now come on, it’s a do-it-yourself, so get as many toppings as you want.”

When you entered the shop, you immediately separated from your boyfriend, eager to have a cup of yoghurt. Jeno watched as you grabbed a large cup before going to the yoghurt machine. He was smiling ear to ear as you moved to the topping and sauce section, picking carefully your toppings because you’re still a picky eater nevertheless.

Eventually, he joins you as he grabs a medium cup and picks some toppings that suit his taste. After weighing the cup and paying for the dessert, the two of you went out where an al fresco area can be found. You two sat at the corner, digging on the delectable treat that you two are having.

The sun is setting and you’re halfway on your cup, you could only stare at the sun. feeling overwhelmed but in a good sense. You finally finished your semester and your boyfriend brought you to a yoghurt shop. You couldn’t help but to smile. Things are better and you just feel so lucky to be here right now.

“Having deep thoughts again?” Jeno asked, knowing that you tend to space out sometimes.

“No, no deep thoughts,” you told him. “Just happy right now.”

“Oh really?” Jeno teases, “can I ask why?”

You only smiled, “of course because school’s over, and I have my handsome boyfriend treat me my favorite dessert at the moment.”

Jeno only smiled, gazing at you lovingly. He wonders if days are going to be like this. He likes this life of his. In this town where it’s just you and him, in a small yoghurt shop, with the sun setting on the background.

And as Jeno stares at you, he couldn’t help but be in awe. Thinking how lucky he is to have a girlfriend like you.

Your attention shifted to him, making him stare at you even more lovingly.

“Jeno,” you called out.

“What?”

“You’re spacing out,”

“What makes you think of that, yn?”

“Yn?”

Jeno’s eyes widened.

“Who’s yn?”

The girl in front of him is not you. Her hair is in a different shade, falling along her shoulders, unlike yours who you usually tie in a messy ponytail whenever you’re eating something. She’s pretty, definitely pretty that it can make anyone turn their head.

They stared at each other for a minute. That’s when Jeno realised that your name slipped onto his lips.

Fuck. He thought. That’s when he remembered. It’s been months ever since you two broke up. Months after that night that was full of frustrations and arguments. Jeno barely recalled what you two argued about but he knew that you were crying and instead of comforting you, he stormed out of your place.

You two didn’t break up that night officially, you called it quits over a text three days later. Instead of calling you, Jeno lets it be. Thinking that you two were just never meant to be.

Unlike you, Jeno found it easy to get over you. He’s a charming guy, so it was quick for him to find another girl that he can love again.

Or so he thought. Because as he stared at the girl in front of him, he couldn’t believe that he called her by your name.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, sorry,” he quickly apologised. Shifting his attention to the melted yoghurt on his cup.

Maybe it was his fault. For bringing her to the places you two went. Jeno knows that there are a lot of places where he can bring her, but why does he always end up in the coastal area? On a particular yoghurt shop that you love?

Jeno couldn’t help but to question it. He thought that he’s over you but it seems like the ghost of you still keeps on haunting him.

You who’s always cheery. You who always have a certain sweet treat every semester. You who loves bringing your polaroid camera and taking photos of the people you hang out with.

You, who was there for Jeno. Who loved him despite his flaws and even though he is lacking in some parts, you ignored it and loved him nevertheless.

He wasn’t perfect, but you weren’t looking for a perfect boyfriend. You love Lee Jeno no matter what. And you always say that to him.

“Hey Jen, I’m done here, should we get going now?” Jeno snapped out once again when she spoke out again.

He stares at his yoghurt. It’s all melted and doesn’t look appetising at all. He then glances at the sun and it’s barely touching the sea. If it was you who’s with him, you two will wait until the sun sets and set out when the stars are in the sky.

But you’re not with him anymore, and he’s with a new girl. Who’s pretty, who’s nice, and is exactly his ideal type. Jeno had accepted it, after all. It’s not only him who’s moving on. He knows that Mark Lee’s making a move on you. He watched as you laughed with him over a cup of coffee a few weeks earlier.

So it seems like you two are moving on. Good for you. He thought. You deserve someone better than him. While he knows that there are no other girls that can surpass you, Jeno hopes that at least for his side, he can be a better man for his new girl.

The ride home was nothing but an awkward tense. Jeno keeps on glancing at her, who’s too busy on her phone. If it was you, your eyes would linger on the view outside — even though you’ve grown up in this area, you always love staring at the view. But at some time, you’ll shift your gaze at Jeno, who’ll reciprocate your giggles with a soft chuckle. His free hand lacing around your fingers, never letting you go until you reached your place.

“Watch out!” and luckily, Jeno stepped on the brake quickly. His eyes staring at the dog that just passed by.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t —”

“No, of course not! The dog suddenly jumped out of nowhere,” she said in a soft tone, smiling as she pats Jeno’s shoulders. “You prevented it too, and there’s no accident that happened, so it’s okay.”

Jeno could only let out a sigh. Somehow, he feels like blaming himself because of the incident, if it wasn’t him thinking about you, then maybe he’ll be more concentrated on his drive. He tried to focus on the road, but you’re in his mind no matter how hard he tries to shake the thought of you.

He didn’t notice that he just reached her place. It was as if he was driving out of instincts.

“Thanks for dropping me off,” she said, smiling.

“No worries,” Jeno only said, and before she left, she gave Jeno a soft kiss on the cheeks. Jeno watches as she gets out of the car, walks through her apartment and closes the door.

But Jeno couldn’t move from his seat. He doesn’t know what to do. Frustrated, Jeno lets out a sigh as he rests his head on the headboard. He doesn’t want to fuck up. He already ruined your relationship, he couldn’t bear to ruin another one too.

“I’m so stupid,” Jeno whispered. He opens his eyes and looks at the road. He knows that deep inside, he’s not yet ready to enter another relationship. It’s too soon.

Not when you spent three years together, and broke up abruptly. Throwing everything you two had. Never had a decent closure or even a proper apology from each other because of what happened that night. No. The only thing Jeno wants more is to find closure from you, and perhaps, in the better light,

you two can finally move on and find someone better.

Jeno knows that partly, it’s his fault that things went downhill. So it's up to him to fix everything. He turned on the engine, and without any hesitation, drove to a familiar route that he memorised by heart. It was a gamble, but Jeno was willing to see the outcome of his indecisive decisions.

As he reached your place, Jeno didn’t hesitate to turn off his engine, leaving his car as soon as possible.

He walks towards your apartment, a sense of familiarity welcomed him. It felt like home and Jeno tries to brush off that feeling — that odd sense of missing a place that has been a home for him for years.

Jeno stops in front of your door. He lets out a deep sigh before knocking on the door. For a minute, no one answered.

He knocks once more. Two, three, four loud knocks, in hopes that it can be enough for you to open the door.

But within a minute, no one answered. Jeno took it as a sign. That maybe closure isn’t for you two. Jeno tried to ease his beating heart — he didn’t even notice that it had been beating abnormally ever since he arrived at your place.

So he turned his heels around, walking a few steps when he heard the door open.

“Jeno? What are you doing here?”

As he turned around, Jeno was shunned.

There you are, with your hair in a mess, wearing your favourite cinnamoroll-patterned pajamas. He saw how your round eyes became wider as he made eye contact with you — both yearning for something.

“I…I —” Jeno decided to go near you. “I just, want to ask you how you have been.”

That was stupid. That was so fucking stupid. Jeno’s mind was barely functioning when those words slipped out of his mouth.

But you didn’t take it into something. You were just surprised. Jeno’s in front of you. The sense of familiarity to the man in front of you is still there. His scent, presence, and the feelings you had for him. It’s all still there.

And you don’t know why, but maybe you just wanted to see if he still loves you.

Because instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the neck and smashed your lips onto his.

But in a quick second, you realised that what you did was stupid. You broke out of the kiss, and yet your hand remains on his.

Jeno’s gaze shifted from a surprised one to something more familiar. Lovingly. You knew that stare, you’ve always loved that stare of his. You know that because you’re the only one who he gave that gaze with.

And the next thing you knew, his lips crashed onto yours. You couldn’t help but to kiss him back with more intensity. His arms instinctively hold your waist as you attempt to balance yourself. He pushes you backward, making you two enter your apartment without breaking the kiss.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct jeno #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream imagines #nct jeno imagines #lee jeno #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #jeno fic #lee jeno fic #nct dream jeno fic #nct jeno fic

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sorceresssundries · 10 months ago

Text

Sanctuary

Pairing: Gale/Female Tav

Warnings: Nightmares, mention of trauma, sex, NSFW

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: After what happened at Baldur's Gate, it's no wonder Elspeth Dekarios is still haunted by nightmares. Luckily, she has somebody to look after her and chase the bad dreams away.

A/N - a happy birthday gift to the wonderful @elspethdekarios!

The place that had once been the centre of Gale Dekarios’ universe had condensed down to one singular point, the side of the bed where Elspeth slept. These moments of stillness were his sanctuary, when the city was quiet and the window was open to the moon and stars, and the soft froth of the waves rhythmically brushed the shore, singing serene songs from faraway places. Their music had once been his only bedfellow, but it no longer soothed him to sleep the way it used to. The sea could keep its solace. His peace was wrapped up in the woman lying beside him.

In these delicate, moonlit hours where tomorrow was still deciding what it would become, Gale would watch Elspeth dream. Her body, softened by the gentle tug of slumber, was the most sacred figure he’d ever worshipped.

This was a mortal intimacy he could once only have dreamt of. The flutter of her eyelids hinted at some distant dreamworld beyond his reach, and her lips were slightly parted, as though ready to whisper some secret she had discovered there. Gale liked to imagine he was still a part of her even in her dreams, that perhaps the memory of his mouth moving over her skin lingered in her consciousness. He hoped his touch—whether the gentle brush of his fingers over her back or the heat of his tongue moving inside her—was too sweet, too intense to leave behind, and so she carried him with her, even into the faraway fantasy of her dreams.

Sometimes she would moan; the most delectable, breathy incantations that left him melting and enraptured. He would lean closer, wanting to press his mouth to hers and catch those dream-born sighs between his teeth, to steal her breaths like a thief, to consume her utterly, the way he did her body on those slow, sultry nights when they had all the time in the world and his lips traced every one of her curves and hollows.

She was magic. A Goddess made flesh, a wish granted, and he was the fool who had stumbled upon an enchanted lamp and had been bestowed the impossible.

It broke his heart that not every night was this peaceful, that he could not always protect her the way he wanted. Gale had taken to being extra vigilant during the hours when the rest of the world seemed to fade away. She suffered nightmares, of course she did, It was a crushing inevitability. Even someone as tough and resilient as Elspeth Dekarios could not prevent the smoke of long-smouldered fires from wisping through her mind and clouding her light.

He knew the past knotted the silk of her heart, and the storms she had weathered would always linger, echoing the boom of voices long gone, and the flashes of lighting splitting apart skies she thought had cleared.

He would give anything to take it all away from her; crowns and kingdoms and magic. All of it, everything - just to make sure no nightmare ever found her again. He wanted her to know only gentle peace. But, he was only human, and her mind was her own. So… Gale would watch and comfort and love her, the way only he could.

One night while she slept, deep and secure, he had left her to work on some correspondence at his desk. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there for, long enough for the candle to burn down and for ink to stain his fingers, when he heard a cry from their bedroom. He had never moved so fast in his life. She was sat up, breathless and shaking, so wracked and gripped with fear that even her tears were too frozen to fall.

“You were gone.” She had gasped, clutching the bedsheets between her fingers as though they were a lifeline. “You were..”

“Hush, love.” He was wrapped around her, her head tucked beneath his chin, his hand rubbing her back. The ink stains smeared deep blue across her starlit skin, but neither of them noticed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses. His words were full of gentle comfort, assuring her that he was here, he was safe, she was safe, and that he loved her more than anything.

He promised her he would never leave again.

He took his time, holding her and talking to her. Offering her simple truths and silly stories which coaxed out smiles and sighs as he held her against him. The pads of her fingers brushed through the hair on his chest, and followed the trail of it along his body, making him shudder as her slender, harpist hands stroked his skin.

Slowly, the peppered kisses became slower, deeper. His lips trailed down her neck, soft and love-filled, meant to ground her, to reassure her. “I’m here,” he whispered again, his mouth against her shoulder now, down her back. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, meant to melt the fear from her bones and replace it with something else—something solid, something certain.

Elspeth’s breath hitched, but it wasn’t from fear this time. His kisses travelled further, down to the curve of her stomach. He took his time, savouring the feel of her beneath his lips, the way her body responded to his touch. Her fingers threaded into his hair as his lips moved lower, coaxing her away from whatever nightmare had held her captive.

By the time his mouth found the warm heat of her core, molten and waiting, all the tension had left her body. Her breaths came in soft, stuttering gasps and her legs parted ever so slightly as he pressed his mouth to her. He worshipped her in the way only he could, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes, tasting her, feeling her. Every moan she made was a step away from those towering heights, back into the safety of his arms. He wanted to make gentle what had been sharpened, bandage and balm each unseen wound, the way she had done for him - countless, precious times.

He didn’t rush, didn’t push. He was thorough and patient, his tongue slow and loving, promising her in every possible way that he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands held her steady as his mouth worked to bring her the kind of peace only he could give.

Ever since that night, when Gale loved her until dawn broke, he kept his promise. He never left her again.

He watched over her now, as her sleepy sentinel, and his soft, heavy, love-filled eyes began to flutter and drift as he lay his head beside hers, counting all his favourite things about her: the full ripeness of her laughter, the furrow of her brow when she was lost in a book, the magic in her fingers as she...

.. played the

harp…

…or..

th…

It didn’t take long for sleep to carry him away. His breathing fell into the same rhythm as hers; as easily and thoughtlessly as the entwining of fingers. He drifted off to the steady beat of her metronome heart.

Elspeth awoke startled and cold. Her bedsheet had abandoned her, the only thing covering her skin was the breeze from the open window. The whistle and gust of it had picked up from across the sea and crashed into their room like a stranger whilst she slept. Her nightmares clung to her, cloying and sticky, fogging up that sensitive place right behind her eyes where light scattered. There was no light there now, only darkness and crackles of terror. Memories held under the lens of her lingering fears until they swelled into something too big to hide away.

She couldn't tell which world she was in. She was lost, and she couldn’t find her breath. Gale’s arms were not around her… where was he.. Oh Gods what if he were…

Before the panic could take root, his voice broke through the haze, thick with sleep. "El, love, I’m here."

His voice pulled her back. His arms wrapped around her from behind, strong and warm, drawing her into safety. His breath was slow, still heavy with sleep, as he curled himself around her. He hadn’t fully woken, but even in his half-conscious state, his first instinct was to hold her, to protect her from whatever haunted her dreams.

Always guarding her, even in his sleep.

Elspeth let out a shaky breath, her pulse gradually slowing as she leaned back into him, settling into the warmth of his chest against her spine. The weight of him anchored her back to this world—their world.

He pressed his lips lazily against the back of her neck, more instinct than thought. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a low thrum, “I’ve got you.”

And he did. He always did.

Elspeth danced in the delicate space between sleep and wakefulness, her thoughts swirling and mingling in that hazy realm where they were neither dreams nor memories, but something gentle and in-between. She could feel Gale’s hands cupping her breasts, and her drifting desires envisioned his dedicated lips against the peaks of her nipples. Instinctively, she arched and stretched, caught in the soft fuzz of her thoughts.

“Elspeth…” His voice was more rumble than speech, followed by a low, heavy moan as the plush of her ass pressed back against him.

How many times had she heard him say her name? It had left his lips wrapped in the sweet peel of his laugh, it had bounced around the walls of their home when he called her for the second he got home from work, it had been sighed, shouted, murmured, mumbled… but this was her favourite. When it was the first thing he said after sleep. The way his tongue wrapped around the letters of her, like she was the first taste of summer fruit.

Sighing dreamily, she took one of his hands and moved it down to the soft curls between her legs, and the hard length of him pressed more firmly into the small of her back.

His breathing quickened, but it was still sleepy, heavy. There was no rush, just the steady, comforting rhythm of two lovers reacquainting themselves in the midnight hours. His hand explored deeper, stroking and teasing, each touch sending waves of warmth through her. Elspeth’s body softened, opening to him, her hips rolling slowly in time with his movements. She didn’t need her bedsheet any more, and the unwelcome bite of the breeze had turned into a relief against her sweat-soaked skin. The ice had thawed. She was heated. She was molten. He stroked her with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made her pulse race.

“Please…” she breathed, the sound barely a whisper, a plea woven into the quiet of the room.

He responded with a low groan, and his lips found her neck, his tongue pressing against her pulse point. His other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her even tighter against him, as if he couldn’t bear to let even the smallest sliver of space come between them. His erection pressed against her, and she instinctively pushed back, aching to be closer, as close as a wave to the shore.

The room was filled with the rhythm of their heated breaths, the rustle of sheets as their bodies shifted together. There was no need for words; everything was said with soft sighs and murmured sounds of pleasure.

He moved then, his fingers leaving her slick heat to wrap around her hip, guiding her as he positioned himself. She felt the deliberate press of him at her entrance, and she gasped, her body already responding, opening to him. With a slow, careful push, he entered her, and she let out a quiet moan, the sensation of him filling her warm and perfect.

They moved together in the moonlight, the pace slow and deliberate, savouring every minute of it. There was no urgency, no rush to the end - just comfort and pleasure.

Elspeth felt the world outside fade away until there were only the two of them. She swelled like the steady rise of a tide, but she wasn’t in a hurry. Neither of them were. Gale took his time with her, looking after her, using his fingers to play and stroke as he moved inside her. His tongue pushed and pulsed against the back of her slender neck in the same rhythm he was using to fuck her.

His breath became more ragged, his movements more deliberate as his own need grew, but still, he remained gentle, holding her close, not letting himself unravel before she did.

Elspeth orgasmed not with a crash, but a slow undoing. Every coil had unwound into loose string. She had come apart, and had no desire to be put back together again any time soon. What was frantic was now calm, what was close was now distant, and to Gale’s complete delight… With him still inside her… Elspeth began to snore.

His heart swelled with love and amusement. His sweet, sexy, snoring sanctuary.

He stayed there, not wanting to break the delicate spell, his lips brushing the back of her neck as he laughed gently against her.

He wasn’t long before he followed her into sleep, the same way he would follow her anywhere.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #gale fanfic #bg3 fanfic #gale x tav

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iheartsophie · 1 year ago

Text

CANDY NECKLACES | lando norris

^ྀི pairing: Lando Norris x singer!reader

^ྀི genre: smau

^ྀི context: y/n has been hinting about an album for a while now, and when she finally releases the album most of the songs are about her McLaren driver boyfriend…

^ྀི faceclaim: Lana Del Rey

^ྀི warnings: this is my first fic, so bare with me if it is bad or not well written! by all means message me some tips and tricks 🎀

@youruser

liked by, landonorris, lilymhe, 867,543 others

@youruser i know i keep saying this but.. I PROMISE ITS COMING SOON!!!

this album is very personal to me. it has songs about things i’ve never spoken about, about the man i love and my dreams. it has been a long time coming and the time will be soon i promise..

thank you @ jackantonoff for helping me make this album the best it can be 🤍✨

comments

@ user: i know for a fact this album will make me cry and buss it down all at once ❤️liked by author

@ landonorris: spoiler alert 🚨 first song made me tear up 😀 —> @youruser: now why are you lying?? you full on sobbed in my arms.. —>@ georgerussel: this is more believable, this man cried when he saw a fish in a pond. —>@ landonorris: please stop lying 🤣🤣 —>@youruser: we’re not.

@ user: LMAO lando being called out by y/n and george 😭😭

@ lilymhe: girl please let me hear some of the songs 🙏😔 —>@youruser: SOON I PROMISE —>@ lilymhe: you’ve been saying this for 2 years

@ user: we’re cooked.. jacks a producer, it’s going to be piano ballads 😔 i’ll buy the tissues y’all

@ user: day 821 waiting for the album to drop

more comments…

@ landonorris

liked by, youruser, oscarpiastri , 943,776 others

@ landonorris: my beautiful girlfriend @youruser has given me the honor to announce that her album comes out in 2 days!!! i love you so much baby i can’t wait for it to finally be out to the world

comments

@youruser: lando baby i love you, but what’s with the 3rd picture?? —>@ landonorris: wdym?? that’s my delectable gf 😋

@ user: OMG OMG OMG I CANT WAIT OMFG?!!! ❤️liked by @youruser and @landonorris

@ charlesleclerc: congrats y/n me and Alex can’t wait to hear it, alex has been none stop talking about it ❤️liked by @youruser

@ alexandrasaintmleux: unbelievably excited✨ —>@youruser: i love you 😢❤️

@lilymhe: THE LOVE SONGS ARE ABOUT ME GUYS 😋. —>@ alexalbon: oh? —>@ landonorris: but there not though

@ user: brb preparing myself for an 1hour and 30 minute crying session in 48 hours

@ user: I JUST WANT TO KNOW THE TRACKLIST AND WHAT ITS CALLED!! —>@youruser: 😋😋

@youruser

liked by,landonorris,iamrebbecad, 987,566 others

@youruser: 1 DAY TILL THE ALBUM DROPS!!!

i hope you are all really like this album, i’ve spent 3 years making this. i’ve written it through the toughest and happiest parts of my life. some songs have an extremely deep hidden message and some get straight to the point.

side A are my meaningful “sad” songs and side B and my more upbeat “happy” songs

get ready ❤️❤️

comments

@. landonorris: extremely proud of you love!! 💗 —>@youruser: I LOVE YOU

@ landonorris: burning desire is about me y’all 🤭🤭🤭

@ user: SO THANKFUL THAT SAD SONGS ARE FIRST. THEN I CAN BUSS IT DOWNNNNNN

@ user: isn’t scott street the street her and her ex boyfriend lived on??? —>@ user: yes i think so, he was a horrible person to y/n.. im actually dreading that song, im scared of what she’s going to say in it 💔

@ user: “off to the races” defo about lando 😋😋

@ alexandrasaintmleux: so excited ily 🤍 ❤️liked by youruser

@lewishamilton: i’m so ready, can’t wait to hear it y/n

@ user: the meaning of the word “kintsugi”… so scared and excited to hear this.. —>@ user: what does it mean? —>@ user: it’s an art were you fix broken poetry with a lacquer dusted with powdered gold.. maybe suggesting she was broken and lando fixed her?? ❤️liked by youruser

@iamrebbecad: this album cover is gorgeous —>@youruser: thank you!! ily ❤️

@user: so are we not going to talk about “outro” ???? that song literally is the embodiment of the end of a chapter or the end of a story.

@ user

liked by, user, youruser, 10,776 others

@ user: when y/n said side A was going to be sad i didn’t think she meant GUT WRENCHING SAD

comments

@ user: FOR REAL. gilded lily “haven’t i given enough?” 😢😢who hurt my girl? cause i will find you…

@ user: “sweet” almost took me out.. “do you want children? do you wanna marry me?” her thinking about if lando wants to stay with her and grow old together even when she pushes him away :(

@ user: i know living legend is about lando but when she started screaming “why?why?why?why?why?” at the end my heart stopped..

@ user: its such a y/n thing to make us bawl our eyes out at the start of A&W and then buss it down why’ll crying ❤️liked by youruser

@ landonorris: i’m going to own up to it now.. yes i did sob in y/ns arms. yes i did have to leave the studio because i wouldn’t stop crying…

@ user:i had to pause scott street after i heard “do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?”

more comments..

@ landonorris

liked by, youruser, lewishamilton, 886,765 others

@ landonorris: so unbelievably proud of this woman, i am so proud of what she has done and how much effort she has put into this album i love you so much @youruser (cherry and burning desire are on repeat 🤭🤭)

comments

@youruser: babe i thought we agreed on no more bad photos of me.. —> @ landonorris: wdym?? i stuck to the agreement 😗😗

@youruser: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. COME HOME RIGHT NOW. I WANT TO HUG AND KISS YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. —>@ user: she’s so cute omg

@ georgerussell: hes not joking i can hear burning desire through his headphones 😀😀

@ user: y’all they love eachother so much

@ user: they cute or whatever

@ oscarpiastri: brb off to listen to side A because i didn’t get a post like this when i got p2 in monaco 😔

@ user

liked by, user, 14,675 others

@ user: y/ns bussy tastes like what now?

comments

@ user: that being the first line is so unhinged

@ user: i know the song is called cola but i didn’t think it would be about her kitty cat

@ user: BUT HER VOCALS DURING THE BRIDGE SENT ME TO HEAVEN

more comments..

@youruser

liked by, landonorris, lilymhe, 1,456,355 others

@youruser: “candy necklaces” music video out now!!! this song is one of my favorite ive ever written and it has been one of my favorite music videos!! hope you enjoy it!!

comments

@ landonorris: bbg the curly hair 😋😋😋😋😋😋

@ user: petition to get y/n a real hollywood star!!

@ lilymhe: this music video is so appealing to the eye

@iamrebbecad: being on set with you was ethereal

@ user: her dressing as different hollywood stars that have died 😢😢

@ charlesleclerc: the piano solo at the end 🫡🫡

@ alexandrasaintmleux: charles is now learning this on piano.. and i’m not complaining 😗😗 one of my favorite songs

more comments..

author note: thank you for reading!!! this is my first fic and i think it’s okay?? please message me tips of how i could improve.

List of songs used:

Gilded Lily- Cults

Candy Necklaces- Lana Del Rey

Kintsugi- Lana Del Rey

Living Legend- Lana Del Rey

Sweet- Lana Del Rey

Scott Street- Phoebe Bridgers

Arcadia- Lana Del Rey

A&W- Lana Del Rey

Burning Desire- Lana Del Rey

High by the Beach- Lana Del Rey

Off To The Races- Lana Del Rey

Cherry - Lana Del Rey

Ride- Lana Del Rey

Cola- Lana Del Rey

Outro- M83

#f1 x y/n #landonorris #lana del rey #formula 1 #smau #f1 #lando norris #formula one #mclaren #formula 1 oneshot #oscar piastri #lewis hamilton #alexandra saint mleux #charles leclerc #alex albon #singer!reader #lando norris x reader #fanfic #singer

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so0thsayer · 5 months ago

Text

Worshiping You | Carlisle Cullen x chubby!afab!reader

Anon request <333 and as a very chubby girl myself, it was an honour to fulfil 🫡 PLEASE SEND ME REQS PEOPLE IM BEGGING

WARNINGS: smut smut smutttt, r!human x vampire, body worship, pinching, teasing, talks of female anatomy, he loves you so much <3 not proofread lol

work song - hozier

Enjoyyy

Carlisle's skill and knowledge of female anatomy from all his years of studying would always make your intimate moments memorable, even if they didn't happen that often.

Carlisle's sex drive isn't high. For a vampire of his vintage and faith, sex is about passion and closeness, not just about pleasure. So every time you two do end up tangling in each other's bare limbs, he puts his all into cherishing you and worshiping your very being.

And tonight... Tonight was one of those nights. A night to remember.

As you lay on the bed in your shared room, his cold finger tips hit your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps as they travel down over the waves of your stomach. You squirm for more than just a faint, absent touch. He can sense your desire and how impatient you're getting. He's been at this for a few minutes now, having slowly stripped you to your undergarments, just gazing at you in pure awe and affection from between your legs, which were laying flat on the bed.

Even in his 300+ years he’s never seen something so sweet, so delicate and delectable - you, splayed out atop the bed, in nothing but your underwear and bra. He uses his knowledge of your anatomy on you, knowing how to pull you to the edge just by the work of his skilful finger, which you knew, but still you craved for more, even with the knowledge that you wouldn’t last any longer than the last time.

“Shh…” He murmured under his breath, enjoying every part of the scene playing out in front of him.

His hands continued down, stopping at the hem of your underwear. Just as you thought the teasing and taunting was over, his hand ventured back up, slowly tracing every curve you have to offer him. You whimper, sulking at the absence of him inside you. He leans down to your ear, kissing it softly from beside you, using his forearm as a support.

“Now, now my dear…” He reassured. “As much as I love watching you come undone, I also love watching your need for me blossom into the most beautiful of flowers…” His cold whispers send more shivers down your body.

“I always need you…” You whisper back to him, basking in the sound of his voice.

“I know, my love.” He reaches his hand up to your jaw, cupping it lovingly. “But I love it when it shows.” You can feel him smile against your earlobe.

His hand travels from your jaw to your chest, never breaking contact from your skin. He plays with the straps of your bra before sliding them down your arms. You lean up for him as he reached behind you to undo clasp.

Once free, he discards the bra, dropping it beside the bed before gazing at your bare torso in all its glory.

"you get more beautiful by the day.." he says huskily, his hands following his eyes and cupping your plump breasts.

The stark contrast between your temperature and his would feel odd to anyone else. But to you, it was so comforting.

His cold skin makes your nipples harden as his thumbs graze over them softly. You look at his eyes, he's completely focused on your body and what he's doing to you. He's only ever like this when he's working or in his office.

It makes you feel special, important and loved. Your skin prickles, feeling his eyes bare into his hands fondling your breasts tenderly. Your cheeks develop a soft red tint. He notices this without even looking at your face.

"Am I making you hot and bothered?" He smiles to himself, clearly proud. "Am I doing too much?" He teases.

"You're not doing enough." You huff, your head falling back to your pillow.

"Awh, love... You know you'll get what you want soon enough. And you know I cant help myself. You deserve to be cherished, worshiped. And I intend to do it as such, but every time I see your body, it's like I'm seeing it for the first time again.." he trails off, reminiscing about your first time together. How scared he was to hurt you, and how you made him feel young again.

He leans down and brings his lips to your nipple, kissing it tenderly before taking it into his mouth.

You sigh, grateful for at least some contact. His tongue swirls around it attentively, one of your hands coming to his hair and brushing through it. His hand comes up to your other breast, reaching your pronounced nipple and pinching it softly.

You sigh, easing into him quickly, as per usual.

He swaps to the other side, licking and sucking one while pinching the other.

One of his knees presses against you, feeling the molten heat between your legs. He hums to himself, finally detaching from your boob and leaning back again.

He trails his hands down your sides before hooking his index fingers under your underwear.

Carlisle glances up at your face for a second before continuing, moving your legs to the side of him so he can pull the soft fabric down your legs. He discards them off the bed, returning to the earlier position, between your legs, only this time, his gaze was hungrier.

He softly pushes your legs further apart before spreading your delicate folds. He looks up at you through his eyelashes.

"you're glistening, my love. Like a diamond." He speaks in a hushed tone, suppressing his thirst to devour your very being.

"gorgeous..." He murmurs off.

He lowers himself, his face creeping closer and closer to the ache you bare. He looks at your face again, watching your reaction as he swipes his tongue through your folds. From your entrance to your clit.

Your limbs loosen up a bit with relief, letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

He works his magic, sucking and swirling his tongue in the perfect rhythm, making you lace your fingers into his soft blonde hair.

He wraps an arm around your thick thing, holding up close to his head as he gets lost in your taste and noises. You feel two cold fingers press against your entrance for a moment before slowly easing inside of you. Your fingers grip his hair a little tighter.

Slowly, he starts to pump them in and out, curling them and caringly stroking the wall inside you that makes you let out a moan, all while his tongue still continues its beautiful assault on your senses.

You can feel yourself getting close already, the heat and pressure building up within you. He senses this, and normally he'd make you wait a bit so, in his words, he could take his time and fully enjoy you. But he decides to take mercy on you this time, already having teased you for too long.

He pulls back, but only for a second.

"Go on... Let yourself release."

He shoves his face back into you, his tongue resuming it's task on your clit, his fingers pushing deeper, in and out more sensually.

You can't resist your words, your legs and abdomen stiffen as you clench around his fingers. You try not to crush him with your large thighs, even though you know you couldn't even kill him if you tried. Your orgasm washes over you, your sweet sounds like music to Carlisle's ears. He works you through it, making sure you get the most out of the pleasure.

When he's finished, he gives a slow kiss to the overhang of your lower stomach before crawling up over you.

"you did so well. Perfect.. as always" his voice helps bring you back to reality.

"are you ready for more, my sweet?"

Oh, yes. Yes you are.

masterlist

Hope you liked :3 I love writing reqs so please send more !!

#carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen #carlisle #the twilight saga #twilight #carlisle smut #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle x you #carlisle twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #fanfic #bella swan #edward cullen #cullen #jacob black

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sillyhanako · 8 months ago

Text

❀．LET US SING THE SAILOR SONG ﹗

☆★ WINDBREAKER BOYS as pirates !! ft. umemiya hajime, akihiko nirei and sakura haruka 𖥔 ࣪ ˖

☆★ sfw. 496 WC ࣪ ˖

cw :: nothing crazy just umemiya being umemiya, profanities used in sakura's part, sakura and sugishita being on eachothers throats

☆★ notes :This was so much fun to make!! This was also inspired by the strawhats pirate crew roles!! So i cant be sure if the roles are 100% accurate to the real thing and for that im sorry 🙁 can you guest my mind was blank at sakura's part? 😭 sorry for sakura's content eaters 🙁🙁

. . .UMEMIYA HAJIME the captain // leader

pretty obvious one! Umemiya is super confident and positive, even when his ship is being chased by a whole bunch of navy ships. He goes from island to island, recruiting crew members from all over the place, no matter who they are.. (hiragis on life support) In his many adventures, he makes friends with all sorts of people. Some say that the Bofurin Pirates and the Shishitoren Pirates are extra close pals! Maybe even drinking buds?

He also has this little garden where he spends most of his time in, growing and caring for his vegetables and will go batshit if an attacker ruined it.

Hiragi : can you pass me the salt?

Umemiya : huh?? The what?

Hiragi : the salt.

Umemiya : HUH?

Hiragi : *long suffering sigh*

Hiragi : ...the ocean cocain?

Umemiya : Oh yeah sure

Umemiya : am i going too far??

Hiragi : No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now we're going to prison.

. . .AKIHIKO NIREI the navigator

At first, I wasn't sure if Nirei would be an archaeologist or the ship's navigator. But, I decided to make him the latter. As a member of the Bofurin Pirates, Nirei is responsible for guiding the ship and its course. Even though he just joined the crew, he will sometimes give orders when needed to keep the ship and the crew safe. Nirei is still getting used to having this job, but he's determined to do his best since Umemiya trusted him with the role!

Nirei's room is filled with a jumble of maps and charts of various islands he and the crew have visited. Did you know? that each map is accompanied by a collection of pictures and personal notes detailing unique features and characteristics of each locale?

Tsubakino : you're so sweet !! ><

Nirei : thank you i have abandonment issues

Nirei :i feel silly for admiting this but, im actually really nervous this is my first time on a shi-

Sakura :

WE'RE GONNA CRA

. . .SAKURA HARUKA the combatant

Due to Umemiya's empathetic nature and genuine respect for him, Sakura agreed to join him. His unflinching loyalty to Umemiya pushed him to persevere through even the most difficult situations. Sakura feels a strong desire to train diligently to protect both the ship and the crew, and would wipe out any threats, hes always striving to meet new rivals to horn his reflexes and learn new fighting styles.

Sakura is often spotted snoozing on deck, lounging with both Suo and Nirei (though he is reluctant to admit it), or simply relishing the delectable meals prepared by the ship's cook, Suzuri.

Sakura : im not passive-agressive. Im just aggressive. I dont even know what passive means. That doesnt make me stupid. I'll fucking kill you *unsheathes sword*

Nirei : you know what would be cool?

Sakura: what

Nirei : if we had a pet! pirates always have a pet of some sorts

Sakura : who needs a pet when sugishita is right here.

Sugishita : what did you say-

ー﹕m.list﹐

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the-monkeies-girl · 1 year ago

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51 with caesar?

51. Slow Dancing. Song. "Wait here." Caesar told you, sauntering himself into the actual gas station itself as you were left to relish in the remnants of humanity.

The smile on your face was... Different than anything that Caesar had seen from you and it was hard to pull away. He tried to recollect moments of the past, finding it difficult to pinpoint as you were swept away by the sound of music. Not rhythmic or chanting like the banging the Colony supplied during supple ceremonies, a way to entrance delight and delectation, but... Actual... Music.

Tears bristled around the corner of your eyes as you were unable to look away from the '76' of the gas station. Malcolm and crew were able to successfully get the power back on, something Caesar knew you would not believe until you actually saw it with your own eyes, up close. Caesar was rather well versed in music, his eyes watching through the shattered window as you drifted forwards a bit, your feet pressing into the ground with every beat that was made through the dim speaker. Loud enough to be enjoyed for at least a mile wide radius. He knew what Will, Caroline and Charles enjoyed and given the time to reflect, he would choose Charles' classic music over anything else. And luckily for the King of Apes, there was a CD just for that in the abandoned gas station, along with another pile of more rock, pop and even some disco. Things he did not enjoy himself, but knew that Will and Caroline did. "Have you heard anything so beautiful before?" You whispered quietly, your eyes flashing like neon as Caesar finally emerged from the building. "I--- I haven't heard music like this in so long, I al-almost forgot what it sounded like." Your voice drew into a gasp as you hummed to the familiar tune. Clair de Lune. It was like you were sifting in a dream, your feet felt suddenly weightless as you pressed yourself against your mate, letting your forehead rest against his own for only a moment, Caesar bracing himself for a split second upon the impact you gave him before his green eyes slid shut and he accepted the form of affection without a word. There was nothing that he needed to say.

He did this for you - having stayed behind once Malcolm and the other Humans departed, finding the right CD, admittedly getting angry a few times as he tried to figure the actual device out, and then set back home to tell you and to return the next evening.

You were beautiful, he thought to himself, knowledge that was always there but was never at the forefront until he was alone with you. Instead of your usual motion to reach up and cup the sides of his face to bring him in closer, Caesar felt your arms tangle around his neck and you were suddenly flush against him, chest to chest. He could feel the rapid nature of his own heart sitting against yours as if they were playing time to the piano notes drifting around the two of you.

Mimicking your actions, Caesar hoisted you against him by positioning his arms around your waist, holding onto you by the small of your back and controlling your entire being, which you were more than willing to relinquish. The gasp you gave him at his touch made him wish the music would stop right then and there so he could just listen to you breathing instead, but as you placed your head into the crook of his neck, admiring the always present musk, conifer and river that dance from his scent alone, he digressed. "Don't suppose you know how to slow dance." You joked quietly, getting a mouth full of his fur without worry as you adjusted your head to look at the side of his face. While still intimidating and large, his features did soften just a touch at your words, feeling a slight movement of swaying.

"Raise... by Humans." He muttered, letting himself fall into your hair and take in the smell that was so familiar to him know that he occasionally took advantage of its blossoming fragrance when he was busy, "Do know..." You chuckled at that, eyes sliding shut as he rocked your bodies back in forth, nuzzling a bit further into his neck. Tears began falling from your closed eyelids, down the scape of your face and to get trapped against his fur, "Do Chimps not know how to keep rhythm?" Caesar felt a chortle hit the back of his throat, "Not very... well." "Good enough for me."

#caesar #caesar x reader #pota #planet of the apes #caesar pota #planet of the apes x reader #emmy writes #i am a soft bitch at HEART #fanfiction #fanfic

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rottencherrypie · 6 months ago

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okay but hear me out, Kili and the song It’s Only Sex by Car Seat Headrest 🧎‍♀️

R-18+; It's Only Sex (No, It's Not) (Kili x Reader)

Summary - Only sex. That's what is was supposed to be between you and Kili, but it turns out he went into this deal already wanting more.

Warnings - Smut, language, afab!reader, fem!reader, leans more Modern AU (but nothing defining other than cigarettes), angsty (starts a bit angsty), yearning (Kili), simp!Kili (the man wants to be loved), reader is smoking (in both meaning hot and in the addiction way), poorly written smoking descriptions (I cannot smoke), implied previous sex, awkward dialogue (I feed on the cringe), poorly written kissing descriptions, french kissing, mention of female genitalia (reader), mention of nipples (reader), mention of male genitalia (Kili), handjob (Kili receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, a pinch of dom!reader, a pinch of sub!Kili, a hint of dom!Kili (towards the very end), slight orgasm denial (not on purpose, reader just struggles to orgasm at one part), mention of bodily fluids (reader and Kili), creampie, and maybe more (I got way too into this).

Pronouns & POV - None, third-person (leans more Kili)

Word Count - 3,200+ (I got very into this)

A/N - I had never heard this song before this ask, and now I thank you greatly for introducing me to it as I have been searching for new music to listen to for a while now! This ask got me out of the depths of a deep writer's block, so I am sending you lots of virtual hugs and thanks for this! I do apologize if this is not what you were envisioning, but I hope you still enjoy the read! The reader has no defining features other than soft lips, flesh that jiggles while bouncing on dick, and being a smoker. Smut below!

Read on AO3 Read on Wattpad

The scent of burnt ash swirled in the air, accompanied by the blueish-grey clouds of smoke that danced within it. The smoke danced with a hypnotic sway, one barely noticeable by the naked eye due to the faint orange glow that filled the room from the fireplace.

Though the thickness of smoke weighed heavy within the night's air, nothing weighed heavier than the tension between you and the auburn-haired man beside you.

The heat of his honey-colored gaze burnt into your delectable figure, watching as your soft lips wrapped around the slender cylinder. Your chest slowly expanded as you inhaled the thick smoke, the lids of your eyes fluttering closed for a split second as you savored the bitter, earthy flavor that flooded your lungs. As you held the smoke within your mouth, the weight of your hand dropped from your lips—the slender cylinder hovering inches away, the thick smoke dancing within the air like an incense, masking the smell of sex as it continued to sway.

The gray cloud grew larger as you released the smoke from your lips, adding to the dance above you before the gentle breeze of the night's air whisked it away—only the lingering scent of its smoke a reminder of where it had once been.

Rinse and repeat.

All the while, the pair of honey-colored eyes never left your beautiful figure. It was as if you were carved by the gods, every inch of you pure perfection—every curve a masterpiece, every 'imperfection' added to your beauty, and your face the most treasured part within the sculpture. Within his eyes, you were utter perfection—a goddess amongst immortals, the moon amongst stars, a siren within the coldness of the sea—yet he hadn't the courage to utter a single word.

What you were was just sex—only sex.

A sigh fell from his thin lips, his gaze drifting away from the softness of your lips and following the trail of smoke that left them. Watching as the gray swirl was whisked away by the chilled embrace of the night's air, yearning to embrace you in the very manner it was.

"What's wrong?" The melody of your voice broke through the sea of his thoughts, turning it into a muffled whisper rather than the overwhelming screams of yearning. "You never stare at the ceiling after. Did I do something wrong?" As you rose to sitting, the bed creaked beneath the shifting weight, a sound that would typically draw Kili's attention to you—yet it remained on the bland ceiling above.

"Just...thinking." He spoke, the tone of his voice not one you had heard before. The usual confidence that dripped off each word was now a drought, and the loudness of his voice was no louder than a whisper. It was distant as if he was a thousand miles away whilst still lying beside you.

"Of?" You questioned. The bed creaked beneath your body as you leaned closer to him. The heat of your figure emitted onto him, warming his equally chilled body as you inched closer to contact, yet never fully touching him—a wordless reminder of how close you were to being his, yet how he could never fully have you.

"Us."

The single word sent a chill down your spine, a sensation which caused the buds of your nipples to harden—though it could be argued that was due to the bitter nip of winter air grazing against them.

"Us?" You questioned, a brow raising in his direction as you raised the slender cylinder to your lips. Attempting to drown the awkwardness that clung in the air with a sea of smoke.

"Us." He repeated as his gaze finally drifted away from the ceiling, falling back to meet your gemstone-colored one. The sparkle that was nearly always within his eyes now dimmed, only glistening under the golden hue of the fireplace yet not as lively as it had once been. The lines upon his face slightly deepened, knitted into an expression of contemplation and worry as he stared at you—yearning for you to understand him without another word.

"Okay...?" The word left your lips in a bit of a question, the weight of your brows knitted together firmly as your mind began to search for a reasoning behind this sudden—less than fun—conversation. "Just spit it out, Kili." Another sigh escaped his lips as he slowly sat up, the bed creaking again as he leaned back against the plushness of the pillows—slightly flattened from the various nights he spent tossing and turning whilst thinking of you.

"I just..." The words clung within the back of his throat as a sense of unease began to bubble up beside them. What if this ruins things? What if you didn't like what he had to suggest? The soft blur of his auburn hair caught within your view as he attempted to shake his thoughts away. "I want more." He managed to utter, yet the words were no louder than a whisper—laced with the slightest waver of unease as his honey-colored eyes darted throughout the room, desperately searching for something to ground him.

"More than me?" "What?! No. No!" He quickly spoke, not allowing your question to hang in the air longer than the smoke of your cigarette. An irritated groan fell from his thin lips as he flopped further back into the plushness of pillows, causing the headboard to thump against the wall—a sound far too familiar for other reasons.

The air grew tense with every moment that passed without a word uttered. A knife would likely break if it attempted to cut the tension within the air.

Swallowing down his nerves, Kili began to speak again. "I want more...between us." His voice remained soft and uncertain, his gaze focused on the fireplace across from the bed—watching as the orange flames danced within their cage.

The weight within the air grew heavier, nearly suffocating, as a wave of unease swirled through it. The bitter taste of smoke could not drown the awkwardness that flooded your veins, the uncertainty that pounded within your heart, and how your mind seemed to agree with his.

"Kili, it's only sex—" "No, it's not." The sudden shift from uncertainty to confidence dried your mouth of all moisture, though there was little from the smoke that continued to flood it. "It has never been only sex, Y/N. Not for me." Though his gaze never left the fireplace, it was as if his words were staring into your soul.

"I have always liked you." As he began, all noise within his mind turned to static—including the speech he had planned countless times. C'mon, sexual desires, speak! He mentally cursed. "I know we said this would only ever be sex, but I only agreed because I want you. It hurts not having you." He spoke, his gaze slowly drifting away from the orange hues of the fireplace and following the trail of smoke that led to the softness of your lips.

Continuing the cycle of staring, yearning, and glancing away.

"To hold you tight." The bed creaked under the shifting of his weight as his body turned slightly, the heat of his melding with yours, yet his flesh never touched yours—as if he was more afraid of being burnt by you than the fireplace in front of his bed. "To sleep with you." As you snuffed out your cigarette, you rose a brow at the statement—allowing the words to slowly settle within his mind as your gemstone gaze burned into him.

"But in the literal sense." The words rushed out of his thin lips as a faint twinge of rouge began to paint his cheeks, the flesh of his cheeks nearly as warm as the nearby fire. "Maybe only in the literal sense for a night..." He whispered, his honey-colored gaze bore into yours as the familiar weight of silence filled the air.

And as the heaviness of nothing filled the air, nothing needed to be said.

The sudden warmth of your palm enveloped his stubbled cheek, daring him to lean into the soothing softness of your touch—yet he would not be allowed to make that decision. Before anything could be said or done, the warmth of your soft lips encased the roughness of his thin ones.

The faint taste of smoke filled his senses as the lids of his honey-colored eyes fluttered closed, the weight of his head sunk into the warmth of your palm—turning ever so slightly as your lips melded together in a hypnotizing dance for what felt like both hours and mere moments. It was as if the entire world faded, and nothing but you two existed within the moments your lips interlocked.

A warmth trickled into your veins, a sensation of peace flowing throughout them as your lips continued to meld together. Your lips parted slightly, the tip of your tongue swiping against the pearly gates of his mouth which soon parted, granting your tongue access to his warmth.

The taste of your previous pleasure still stained his mouth, a bitter yet sweet tang that you had tasted upon his lips various times—yet it felt different this time as your tongue swirled with his: a breathless dance of passion, one that soon turned sloppy and desperate.

A war fought between the softness of your lips and the roughness of his, one which had no true rhyme or reason—no need to fight, just the roaring flame of passion that had quickly turned into a raging fire.

As your lips left the roughness of his, the tingling warmth within your veins did not stop. It felt right, as if this was meant to happen—a sensation you felt each time you laid with him.

"I..." The words caught within his throat as the lids of his eyes fluttered open, there was little to be said—little that could be said—yet the kiss answered every question that had played endlessly within his mind.

The familiar taste of your lips against his further silenced all thoughts within his mind as waves of warmth rang throughout both of your bodies. The weight of his sturdy arms hung loosely behind the back of your neck as he sunk further into your lips, savoring the smoky tang of them as the prickle of his bearded cheek rubbed against the smoothness of your palm.

He was putty within your hands, prepared to be molded into whatever you desired him to be. The softness of your hand departed from his cheek, slowly gliding down the length of his neck, following the trail down to his hairy chest—a shiver roamed down his spine at the sensation as your hand firmly rested upon the curly sea of hair upon the toned mass of his chest. The weight of your palms pressed against his chest, pushing him away from your lips and turning him onto his back, causing the bed to creak: which it continued to do as you got on top of him.

The smooth warmth of your palm found its way around the throbbing hardness of his cock. A soft groan escaped Kili's lips as your grasp tightened around the hardness, soon gliding upon it with ease thanks to the lingering essence of sex that still stained his cock.

"Fuck." He breathed, the weight of his head falling back against the plushness of the pillows beneath him as the tip of your thumb grazed over the throbbing, leaking head of his cock—smearing the off-white liquid of pre-release around the reddened tip before releasing it from under the pressure of your thumb as the tightened grasp sunk to the thick base.

The hardness of his manhood throbbed within your grasp, twitching in pleasure—or perhaps a mere amount of pleasurable pain—whenever your grasp clenched around it. A wordless reminder that both his cock and him were yours, even if it was merely for sex.

As you shifted your weight, adjusting your position to one more comfortable, you rose the angered head to your dripping entrance—slowly rubbing the sensitive part against your open, leaking core. A desperate whine slipped through Kili's lips as his hands clenched around the smoothness of sheets beneath him, balling them within his fists as his muscles clenched in anticipation.

A whine soon heard as you slowly sunk yourself upon the throbbing member, feeling every inch splitting your walls open as you allowed gravity to sink it even deeper within your warm, wet, spongy core.

Your motions started slow, allowing only the smallest amount of his thickened length out of your cunt—enough to glide upon it—before you sunk yourself back down, yet they gradually began to increase in speed.

The bed creaked and groaned under each motion of your hips; the flesh of your body recoiled with each harsh motion of your hips as you continued to pleasure yourself with his length. The weight of your head began to fall back, arching your chest closer to his view as you continued to fuck yourself upon the thickness of his cock.

The air that had once filled with awkwardness and smoke now danced with the shared sounds of pleasure and the scent of sex.

"Shit." Kili uttered under his breath, the grasp he held upon the smooth sheets beneath him began to loosen as one of his hands shot up from the bed—encasing the smoothness of your hip as you continued to ride him. The grasp he held upon you was firm, an anchor to keep him from drifting away in the sea of pleasure, yet tender with subtle squeezes of affection each time the mushroom tip reached your most pleasurable spot.

As your hips rose and fell in a mindless pattern, his hips began to buck up against yours—meeting each sinking movement with a thrust, pushing his cock even deeper into your most sensitive spots. Your inner walls fluttered around his cock at the sensation, a gasp falling from your plump lips as the pace of your hips began to quicken.

A burning sensation began to spread throughout your hips—and his as well—yet you did not cease your actions; instead they increased in momentum with each pleasurable thrust he made against you. The sound of your gasps of pleasure weighed heavy within the air as the weight of your head sunk back further, hanging on by the thread of your neck as your back continued to arch into a position that would likely leave you sore tomorrow.

As the burn within your hips neared too much, the sudden rough caress of Kili's calloused thumb grazed against your swollen bundle of nerves. Your head snapped up at the sensation, your hips jolting back at the sudden touch as an electric sensation began to spread within your veins—starting from your cunt.

"Oh my—fuck!" Incoherent cries of pleasure fell from your soft lips as his calloused thumb swirled against your cunt. All motion within your hips came to a halt as you sunk to the very base of his thickened cock, allowing it to twitch and stir within the warm grasp of your soaked inner walls.

His cock remained stagnant in your cunt for only a few moments, allowing you to grow used to the pleasurable sensation of the swirls upon your clit before life returned to them. The pace he held was steady, nearly slow yet deep. It was harsh enough to cause your body to jolt—and your cunt to twitch in pleasure around his length—yet not enough to cause you pain.

That would be for a later date.

His cock continued to carve itself within you, thumping against your most special spongy spot with each stern thrust of his hips. The thrusts were calculated, as if he was attempting to prove his worthiness of you by fucking you senseless.

"Fuck! Right there, Kili!" You managed to squeak out as the leaking tip of his cock pressed into your most sensitive spot, a command he did not need to be repeated. The speed of his hips quickened, the pace they held growing more animalistic and sloppy as the lids of his eyes squeezed shut—desperately attempting to hold himself back from staining your inner walls white with his seed in the hopes you would release before him.

As his thumb continued to swirl around your sensitive clit, applying the most pleasurable amount of pressure, your inner walls began to clench around him. Your hips mindlessly bucked against him, your breaths growing uneven as your entire body began to clench at the building sensation. A familiar, burning static began to spread throughout your body—inching closer and closer to the peak, yet staying a breath away from release.

It grew almost frustrating how close yet far you were from receiving the release you so desperately chased after—the corners of your eyes staining with tears of anticipation as your hips mindlessly rocked against his as they jutted into you. A sheen of sweat glistened upon your body, shimmering beneath the orange glow of fire as the flame of pleasure refused to rise within you—a sensation you both liked and disliked.

"Fucking hell—please, please, please—" You chanted mindlessly as Kili continued to pound into you. The mindless pleading was directed towards no one directly, though it sent a wave of pleasure throughout Kili's body as he sunk further into the grasp of your drenched cunt—savoring the momentary power you had given him.

"Do it." He breathed, the bed creaking yet again as he shifted himself into a sitting position. His grasp never left your hip, and his thumb never left your clit as it swirled upon it. The heat of his breath grazed against the sensitive flesh of your chest as he leaned up to you, the lids of his eyes opening allowing his honey-colored gaze to finally meet yours as he pounded into you—watching how your face contorted in pleasure each time his throbbing length jutted into you.

"Let go." The short sentence was all it took to send you over the edge of pleasure, a familiar static burnt throughout your very being as the essence of your pleasure drenched down upon your length—soaking upon his sack as he continued to buck into you.

Though the room felt heavy, you felt weightless—as if you were but the same gray smoke that once danced throughout the air. All had turned to static to you, even the sound of your cries of pleasure and the hiss Kili made as your nails dug into the sturdiness of his shoulders—you could not remember when you had grabbed hold of him, but the angered marks your nails left in their wake proved you had.

As you slowly came down from the floating high of pleasure, the warmth of his seed flooded into your womb. Your inner walls clenched and quivered around him in response, pushing most out and staining his balls and the sheets beneath him in the process—yet he cared not about it.

The heat of his breath melded with yours, breathing in the air of each other's pleasure as you stared at one another mindlessly. The warmth of his hand departed from the flesh of your hip—the other now hovering above your clit—as it slowly rose to the softness of your cheek, encasing the heated flesh in a tender touch as his eyes bore into yours.

Though no word was spoken, everything was said in those breaths. A connection that could not be denied by either side; it was more than only sex.

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