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prythianpages · 1 day ago

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Out of My Head | Azriel x Reader

Azriel x Reader x Eris | Your father, the Night Court’s astrologer, is called to Velaris and you tag along with the hopes of catching a glimpse of Azriel, the one you’re madly in love with. The opportunity for Azriel to show you around comes up and you take it, unaware that things are about to become messy…

warning: this was meant to be cute & short to show your relationship with Az but it ended up being 5,685 words oops lol, some angst, rhys kinda being an asshole again

a/n: Eris does make an appearance in this if you look closely 🤭 I tried to write this fic off as a stand alone so it's still easy to follow but if you need more context, here is the masterlist.

Meeting Azriel had felt like fate, as if the stars and his shadows themselves had conspired to cross your paths. Becoming his friend had been a choice. But falling in love with him? That was out of your control, like being swept away by a tide you hadn’t noticed rising.

Now, you were drowning and happy to drown. To let the flood of him consume you entirely. Every time you’d see him, even from afar, it’d fill your chest with a feeling you couldn’t explain, your heart leaping at the mere thought of catching his gaze.

You welcomed the flood of emotions, let it carry you to depths you’d never dared to explore. Your heart was so irrevocably his, you had no desire to find the surface.

So when Rhysand had invited your father to Velaris to discuss his first born’s birth chart, you insisted on coming along. It had taken days of pleading to wear down his resolve, but you had done it. Manifested it, rather, with the help of the moonwater you kept hidden beneath your bed.

Seeing Azriel was not guaranteed, as you were unsure if he’d even be in Velaris. But that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to go. Leaving behind the harshness of the Court of Nightmares, even for a short while, was reward enough. And if fortune smiled upon you, perhaps your father would let you assist with the reading, just this once.

Your father had never quite embraced your desire to follow in his footsteps. The way he’d look at both you and your brother with that disappointed gleam in his eyes stung. He had always hoped you would stay at home and learn the ways of a “perfect,” traditional Night Court wife, much like your mother. His dreams of a successor rested squarely on your brother’s shoulders, not yours. But much to his dismay and your relief, your brother had chosen to become a warrior in Keir’s army.

Everything you knew of astrology, you’d learned by sneaking into his sessions, stealing glances at his star charts, or losing yourself in the dusty books of the Night Court’s observatory. That cold, stone-walled tower had become your sanctuary—your only glimpse of the night sky.

Though still in the Night Court, the air in Velaris was different. It felt cleaner, lighter. Freer. A wonderful contrast to the oppressive weight of the Court of Nightmares. You took a deep breath, savoring the rare glimpse of the day sky from the High Lord’s impressive townhouse, your father having just winnowed you both.

The sun felt so warm and soothing against your skin. Too caught up in the beauty of the daytime sky, you didn’t notice when your father abruptly stopped. You walked straight into him, sending the heavy box and stack of books in your arms tumbling to the ground.

A hiss of disapproval escaped your father as he turned to scowl at you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, quickly dropping to your knees to gather the scattered items.

“I should’ve left you at home,” he said with an exhausted sigh.

"But who then would assist you in bearing the weight of all these books, given the state of your back? Rest assured, my arms are more than capable,” you said with a huff as you slowly rose back to your feet, arms overwhelmed with the weight of your father’s things. “I shall gladly bear the burden for you, father."

“Clearly.” Your father said dryly, his gaze pointedly lingering on the dented corner of one of the boxes.

You winced at his tone, grateful his back was turned to you again. The door to the High Lord’s and High Lady’s house opened, the former being the one to greet you. Even Rhysand was different here. His violet eyes gleamed warmly, free of the cruelty he wore like armor in the Court of Nightmares. The smile he sent you both softened some of the tension knotting your chest.

“Damus, Y/n,” he greeted. “I appreciate you both coming all this way.”

Rhysand gestured for you to follow him. This was not your first time in Velaris but it was your first time meeting Rhysand in a private residence of his here. You couldn’t hold back the small gasp that escaped you as you marveled at the beauty around. Paintings, no doubt crafted by the hands of your High Lady, adorned the wall and there was light. So much light and warmth in this house. It truly felt like a home. No stone walls, no darkness, no cold.

There was a flutter in your chest when you felt something cool and velvet-like brush against your legs. You instinctively glanced down, though the books obstructed your view. And when you looked back up, there it was–that giddy leap in your heart.

Azriel immediately rose from the couch he had been seated on, his hazel eyes meeting yours before they dropped to the weight in your arms. With a few swift steps, he was in front of you, plucking the boxes and books from your grip as though they weighed nothing. You exhaled softly, your thanks barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

Azriel smiled, shadows curling gently around him as he shifted closer. “I wasn’t sure you’d be coming along today,” he murmured.

“Neither was I,” you admitted, turning your head toward him as you continued to walk. “But I’m glad I did.”

“So am I,” Azriel said.

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you quickly averted your gaze. Azriel was glad you were here. Perhaps, even waiting for you, hoping for you to show up. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Perhaps it was proof of what you’d always suspected—that the bond you felt pulling you toward him wasn’t one-sided. A spark of vindication flared as you imagined Eris sneering at you from some dark corner of your mind. If only he were here to witness this moment. To see just how wrong he’d been.

Azriel did like you and it was only a matter of time before it evolved into something more.

You frowned, shaking the thought away. Why were you even thinking about Eris? And since when did proving anything to him matter?

“Y/n.” Your father’s sharp tone dragged you back to reality. “The books.”

“Oh,” you breathed, glancing at Azriel, who still held them. Before you could speak, your father’s gaze darkened as he realized the task you were supposed to handle had been passed off.

Azriel’s jaw tightened but he said nothing as he handed the books and boxes over.

You moved to follow your father into the study, but he blocked your path, his glare cutting through you. “Stay here and don’t cause trouble,” he said before the door shut with a resounding thud.

You flinched, staring at the closed door. “Sweet Cauldron,” you muttered under your breath, “did Mercury retrograde move into his mood?”

A shadow curled around your wrist, the soft caress of it soothing the sting of your father’s dismissal. The corner of your lips lifted slightly. Azriel had told you once how the shadows came to him during a time of unbearable darkness, offering comfort when nothing else could. They showed him that darkness wasn’t inherently wicked, that it could hold its own kind of solace and strength.

Azriel had also told you that his shadows didn’t approach others. At least not like this, so openly and friendly. To them, you were one of the few exceptions, having met them before you properly acquainted yourself with their master.

You often wondered why. Did they sense the sorrow you tried to bury beneath and conceal? The longing that seeped into your soul–longing not just for their master but for freedom, for a life beyond the suffocating confines of the Court of Nightmares?

Your gaze lifted, finding Azriel’s attention focused on the tendril wrapped around your wrist. His hazel eyes darkened slightly, thoughtful, as if trying to decipher a mystery.

“Well, what am I supposed to do now?”

Azriel blinked, his attention falling back to you, gaze softening. The siphons on his leathers caught the light and your eye. You followed the movement of his arms as he slid his hands into the pocket of his leathers and wondered what they’d look like in casual clothing. And how far did those tattoos stretch, the ones that peeked above his collar and disappeared into those leathers?

“We could go for a walk?”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “A walk?”

Azriel sauntered closer to you and a tingly sensation bubbled up in your stomach. “It’s a beautiful day outside and I would hate for you to waste it in here.”

“But my father…”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Azriel replied with a small, sly grin that felt almost boyish, his shadows dancing around him. He then gestured toward the door to Rhysand’s study, where some of his shadows had already slithered beneath the gap, lying in wait. “Your father will be in there for a while. And besides, I did promise you I’d show you around, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip in contemplation, gaze flickering between the door and Azriel. This was what you’d wanted, been hoping for, wasn’t it? A chance to see Azriel, and now here he was, offering you his time. Your heart leaped at the opportunity, already screaming yes.

But your mind wasn’t so easily swayed. What if your father needed you? Wouldn’t this be your perfect chance to prove your worth, to show him how capable you were? Then again, the way he had dismissed you earlier, slamming the door in your face, made it clear he wasn’t expecting or even wanting your help…

“Only if you’d like, of course,” Azriel added, his tone soft. He must’ve sensed your troubled thoughts. “I can always keep you company here instead.”

The flutter in your chest returned with full force. Azriel seemed to really want to spend time with you. Alone. And as much as you admired the beauty of the High Lord’s house, the promise of fresh air, open skies, and Azriel’s company was too tempting to resist.

You found yourself nodding, your heart overriding your head. “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

Velaris continued to take your breath away.

Children darted between market stalls, their faces alight with pure delight as they chased one another without fear. So incredibly and unbelievably different to the cold silence and rigid rules of propriety in Hewn City. Here, no one glanced over their shoulder with suspicion or hurried along with their head bowed.

The people of Velaris moved freely. Kindness radiated from strangers who greeted one another warmly, who paused to chat in the bustling markets or helped an elder carry their bags. Artists lined the streets, painting the city’s beauty on canvas while musicians filled the air with beautiful melodies.

Azriel led you through the city, showing you as many places he could. He took you to a small bakery first, where he swore the best chocolate croissants were made. Then, to a cafe that sold a variety of appetizing teas. You drank it all in, committing the wonders of Velaris to memory.

As you walked along a bridge, the river’s gentle current caught your eye. It was broad daylight yet, the water glimmered like liquid starlight. You paused, resting against the bridge’s railings. Azriel moved to stand beside you, tucking in his wings so they wouldn’t bump against you.

You couldn’t help but think how unfair life could be. For a place such as Hewn City to exist at the same time as this one. Both of the same court, yet so divided. And why had you been born in the wrong one?

Azriel picked up on the way your expression had fallen. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said and at the way Azriel’s eyes watched you closely, you knew he was not convinced. You let out a soft sigh, relenting.

“It’s just…I thought places like this only existed in my dreams,” you glanced down at your hands. “And now, I just can’t help but dread my attendance at the next Court of Nightmare’s ball even more…when I could be here instead, watching the stars from the City of Starlight itself..free of any worry, any burdens.”

Azriel frowned at the hidden implication of your words.

A dark tendril fluttered toward you, brushing the hair that had fallen back behind your ear. Another softly brushed against your face and wiped a stray tear away. More went to you, wrapping around your hands, seeking to give you comfort and you honestly weren’t sure if it was of their own will or Azriel’s.

Their comfort brought you back to the fateful night you first met them. You’d known of them–of the Night Court’s shadowsinger, at least–long before you actually knew them. The same way you had known Cassian was the Night Court’s leading general and Morrigan, the court overseer.

Things had changed after the events under the mountain. High Lord Rhysand had gathered the Court of Nightmares council, a tense meeting filled with bitter accusations thrown across the room. Keir and a few other noble lords, including your father, sat around the table, each one arguing fiercely over who did what under Amarantha’s rule.

As the heated exchange unfolded, your father’s loyalty was questioned, and the words left you unsettled. You had nearly spilled wine over one of the lords in your discomfort, hands trembling as you failed to properly grip the chalice.

But then, a dark shape emerged from the shadows, winding its way around your wrist like a silent guardian. The shadow stayed there, curling around you in such a way that was strangely comforting.

You had snuck glances at the shadowsinger then.

Azriel stood just behind Rhysand, his face a stoic mask. His attention was elsewhere, either unaware or pretending to be, of the shadow that had strayed from him and wrapped around you.

A break was called. And then, Keir, always the one to provoke, threw an insult at your father. You had no control over your tongue, the words slipping from you without thought. It was in defense of your family but speaking out of turn was a dangerous thing for a female to do. Especially in this court.

And though you had done it in your father’s defense, he did not return the favor. His face twisted in a mixture of disgust and disapproval, making you feel smaller than you ever had.

Keir’s face reddened with rage and as he glared at you, the shadow around your wrist tightened. Azriel’s eyes flashed, a cold, sharp stare locking onto Keir. It was the closest thing to protection anyone had offered you in this ruthless court. It left you stunned and wide-eyed.

You had been quickly dismissed by your father then. The weight of your court’s cruelty pressed down on you, suffocating. You fled, finding an empty room, locking yourself away in a cold, lonely corner of the building.

And then the tears came. You didn’t even notice the darkness that had formed around you, so accustomed to the shadows yourself. But this wasn’t the same darkness. This one was… different. Comforting. Protective.

You could only stare at them in awe, one hand reaching upwards to touch the shadows.

But when the door creaked open, your hand fell back to your side. Fear had risen in your throat as your gaze shot to the tall figure in the doorway. You shifted backwards, your back hitting the stone wall behind you, fearing the worst. It was the shadowsinger. And he had come to punish you on behalf of your father.

But he did no such thing.

His eyes swept over the shadows surrounding you—his shadows. The mask of indifference he always wore slipped for just a moment. A faint furrow appeared between his brows, shock flashing in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, sending the shadows a look that had them slithering back to him, albeit reluctantly. “If they’ve scared you. They don’t normally do this…are you alright?”

You blinked the tears from your eyes. “You’re not going to punish me?”

His brow furrowed deeper, confusion crossing his face. “Punish you? For what?”

There was a flicker of recognition in his gaze, followed by a soft exhale. He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. His shadows swirled around him, some curling around his ear, whispering to him. Whatever they whispered to him had his expression softening.

“If anyone needs punishment, it’s Keir. For having the nerve to talk to you like that.”

Azriel took your silence as an invitation. He lowered himself, slowly, attentive to the way your breath hitched. Finding no resistance from you, he flared his wings slightly to allow him to settle on the floor across from you. His boots brushed against your shoes, and he gave a quiet apology. Others had done much worse and yet, no one had ever apologized to you.

“I’m Azriel,” he told you with a small smile, quickly adjusting himself to the cramped space. “You’ve met my shadows. Though I control them, they don’t always listen. Sometimes, they follow their own will. I really hope they didn’t frighten you.”

You were still frozen in disbelief, but in that moment, something inside you shifted. A spark of hope—a spark you hadn’t known existed in the Court of Nightmares, didn’t know could exist.

“They didn’t. They’re nice,” you admitted quietly, gaze following the movement of his shadows. Your eyes then met Azriel’s, surprised at the warmth you saw in them.

And then slowly, you felt your body relax. “I’m y/n…”

A shadow wrapped itself around your wrist, squeezing you gently, pulling you from your thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one from that night.

“Sorry,” Azriel murmured sheepishly, the same way he always did when his shadows caught him off guard. “They really like you.”

The shadow unraveled from your wrist, slowly and reluctantly. It returned to Azriel, the others that had begun to surround you doing the same.

“S’okay,” you shrugged, though a small wave of disappointment settled over you at the thought of his shadows acting on their own will and not his. “I like them too. My little friends, they keep me company during those dreaded court events. Them and Eris, though the latter isn’t exactly one I welcome…”

Azriel’s body tensed at the mention of the Autumn male.

“But it’s strange,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Azriel this. “Despite all the insults he throws my way, he’s somehow kinder than all the other males at court. Maybe Autumn males are–”

“Please, don’t ever pair Eris and the word ‘kind’ in the same sentence,” Azriel interjected, his tone filled with disbelief. “You have to be careful around him, Y/n. I don’t know why he gravitates toward you…” Your heart stuttered in your chest and Azriel's gaze hardened. “But he’s not to be trusted. If he continues to bother you…”

Was that… jealousy? The thought made your pulse quicken, but you kept your expression steady.

“He’s fine,” you said, your voice a little too casual. Azriel went still, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. You felt the heat rise in your neck, and you hastily added, “I mean—it's fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” Azriel insisted. He turned to face you fully, and your stomach fluttered at the intensity in his gaze. “I can handle him for you.”

Azriel’s presence alone was enough to make anyone think twice before crossing you. It sure kept Keir from lashing back at you all those years ago and the handsy, sickening males away from you during court events. You knew he would handle Eris without hesitation. So you should’ve said yes, and accepted his offer.

But, as the words settled on your tongue, you hesitated. You weren’t sure you wanted him to.

However strange and uncomfortable your encounters with Eris often were, there was something intriguing about him. Something that pulled at you despite his sharp words and caustic demeanor. It was almost like a game, a dance of sorts, and you found yourself drawn to it. To him, more than you cared to admit.

A small part of you wanted to continue this twisted back-and-forth with him. He was not a welcome companion but one whose absence would, much to your denial or disbelief, go noticed. The way he challenged you, made your pulse quicken, even when you didn’t want it to. The way his eyes lingered just a little too long, and how he always seemed to know exactly how to get under your skin…

No. You didn’t want Azriel to step in. Not yet. Not while this strange curiosity about Eris still simmered beneath your skin.

“I can handle it,” you murmured, though the words felt more like a reassurance to yourself than to him. Your gaze trailed after the fae strolling along the river’s edge. Before Azriel could protest, you turned to him with a smile, changing the conversation. “Can we walk along the shore?”

The Sidra river was even lovelier up-close. With the sun beginning to set, the sky blushed in hues of pinks and oranges and you felt as if you were walking through a dream. A dream you didn’t want to wake up from. Azriel walked quietly beside you, the tension from earlier gone.

You breathed in deeply, reveling in the sweet mixture of fresh air and Azriel’s scent. The sound of water rippling against the shore was just as soothing as the early evening breeze. Your gaze fell on a rock ahead, its smooth surface glimmering in the fading light, and you quickly bent down to pick it up.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, watching as the stone sparkled like starlight cupped in your hand.

“It’s a rock,” Azriel said drily.

You couldn’t help but grin, lifting the rock to show him. “It’s not just any rock,” you corrected him. “It’s a rock from Velaris. It’ll make a perfect addition to my growing collection of–”

“Rocks,” Azriel finished for you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

He knew about your rock collection. Of course, he knew. How could he not? Azriel had been the one to enable it. It had started as a joke, a silly request from you when he had mentioned visiting Spring. You had asked for a souvenir, half expecting him to politely decline.

"What could you possibly want from Spring?" he had asked. “A rock?”

And out of all the things you could’ve chosen, you had simply nodded your head. “Sure.”

The way he had returned from his mission, slipping a smooth rock from his leathers and placing it in your hand, had been so unexpected, so sweet. You’d gasped, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He had remembered.

And when he mentioned going to Winter Court next, you had shyly grinned at him, asking for another “souvenir.” What had started as an innocent collection had become something far more significant to you. Azriel didn’t know but that rock from Spring was the first gift you had ever received in years–decades, almost.

You treasured those silly rocks, keeping them lined up neatly on your dresser. You even painted them with little designs—daisies on the rock from Spring, a tiny shell on the one from Summer, and snowflakes on the one from Winter.

“This may actually finish my collection,” you mused, slipping the rock into the pocket of your skirts, your smile soft.

“I thought I had brought you one already?”

“Must’ve slipped your mind,” you replied with a playful shrug of your shoulders.

Azriel’s expression shifts into one of mock seriousness. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said, bowing his head before his voice turned teasing. “What will I bring you now, then? I’ll be flying out to Dawn next week. You sure you don’t want another rock from there? Or perhaps, this time, a jar of dirt?”

You rolled your eyes, the motion automatic but immediately followed by a sharp pang in your chest as your heart seemed to freeze. A lady, especially one from your court, rolling her eyes at a male? No matter how familiar you could be with a male, a gesture such as this was dangerous and unforgiving.

But Azriel only chuckled, his gaze warm and unbothered. Relief rushed through you, leaving you momentarily breathless, though you tried to play it off with a dry tone. “Ha,” you said, your thoughts already drifting to other possibilities. “But, if you are going to Dawn…”

He tilted his head, eyebrows raising slightly as his lips curved. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a feather…”

His dark brows furrowed in confusion, and you felt your heart beat louder in your chest. “A feather?” he repeated.

You shrugged again, trying to look casual about it. “A feather from a swan from Dawn. They’re native to the court and mate for life, you know. Some see them as a symbol for love and fidelity. I’d like a feather so that I can add it to my Aphrodite altar.”

“I see.” Azriel’s gaze had turned thoughtful, clearly processing the information. There was a brief pause, and you held your breath, suddenly aware of how ridiculous your request might sound…

“Y/n, are you… practicing witchcraft?”

You react almost too quickly, it’s suspicious.

“No,” you said, shaking your head with a small laugh. Even though you had sought out the help of a witch not too long ago, something you’d probably take to the grave with you, given the failed results. Or the fact that this feather would be an offering given with intent to Aphrodite for luck and blessings in love…

”Well, not exactly, I just–it’s a…”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Azriel mused with a chuckle, saving you from whatever disaster of an excuse you could come up with. The sound of his laughter was like a release, the tension in your shoulders easing. “If it’s a Swan’s feather you want, then I’ll make sure I bring one to you.”

There was something in his tone, the certainty in which he said the words, that had warmth pooling in your stomach. It was the kind of warmth that spread quickly, making your whole body feel lighter and creeping up into your chest.

You turned to look at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

Your feet faltered as the rush of emotions made you dizzy. You barely noticed the uneven ground beneath you, and before you could regain your balance, you felt yourself tipping forward. Azriel’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and pulling you steady against him.

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his touch, gaze falling to where his hand rested on your arm. Slowly, your gaze trailed upwards. Azriel’s gaze was soft, his eyes searching yours in that way that made your heart race.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“Of course.”

You were both so close now, you could feel the heat of his breath. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. The sound of the river faded, replaced by the pounding of your heart. His free hand brushed against yours, a touch that sent a spark skittering across your skin.

And then, it happened.

A sharp, sudden tightening in your chest.

It wasn’t the pleasant flutter you’d grown accustomed to in Azriel’s presence. No, this was something else entirely. A pull, intense and demanding, like an unseen thread yanking you backward. You gasped, flinching out of Azriel’s grip, who immediately let you go when he felt your resistance.

Your hand flew to your chest. Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern and his shadows stirred anxiously, circling you as if they could shield you from whatever had caused your distress. “Are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know,” you murmured, your fingers pressing against the spot where the ache had settled, desperate to soothe the inexplicable burning. “But I think I’m fine now. ”

You weren’t sure if you were reassuring him or yourself. But you pushed the feeling aside, turning back to Azriel with an uncertain smile.

He took a hesitant step closer, hand hovering over your shoulder. “Are you sure? I can take you to a healer–”

“No,” you immediately shook your head, eyes widening. Calling for a healer meant risking your father finding out you had not heeded to his order of staying put, of you not causing trouble. You’d rather suffer the consequences of whatever sickness had suddenly struck you than be left to deal with your father’s reproach.

“I’m okay. Could we–could we head back now?”

Azriel's pov

Worry continued to brew in Azriel’s mind as he watched you settle onto an armchair, hand still rubbing at your chest. His shadows twitched restlessly, curling tighter around him. You had always been easy to read but he found himself struggling to decipher the distant look in your eyes. You hadn’t even looked his way once since he winnowed you both back to the townhouse.

He parted his lips, ready to urge you to see a healer, despite your earlier protest. But a shadow curled itself around his ear and he made himself busy with the book in his hand instead.

The door to Rhysand’s study opened. Azriel’s shadows whispered to him as they noted the way you had stiffened the moment your father stepped out and forced a smile onto your face. He was always unsettled by your father’s indifference to you, his grip on the book he held tightening.

"Let’s go home."

Lord Damus’s voice was detached as he dumped the books in his arm into yours. Azriel noticed immediately that it was a smaller load than what you had arrived with, but that did little to ease him as you winced under the weight.

He moved instinctively to help you, but the harsh stare Rhysand shot at him from across the room made him pause. Azriel blinked, momentarily stunned by the anger that flashed in Rhysand’s eyes.

"Thank you for your time, Lord Damus. I wish you both a safe trip back," Rhysand said, his voice smooth and composed, contrasting the look he had sent Azriel.

Lord Damus bowed in respect and you did the same. Albeit, with a struggle, given all the weight in your arms. Some of Azriel’s shadows darted toward you, hiding within the shadows of the sitting room. They settled underneath the books you carried, helping you silently. And at the way your arms eased, so did Azriel’s.

It was short lived because as soon as you and your father disappeared, Rhysand turned back to him.

“My office. Now.”

Rhysand’s tone left no room for questioning or contemplating. Azriel’s shadows hissed at the sharpness but the shadowsinger yielded to his High Lord’s command. As he entered the office, the faint traces of Feyre and Nyx’s scent lingered in the air, but neither was there now.

“Did something happen?” Azriel asked, senses on high alert.

Rhysand leaned against the front of his desk, his gaze locking onto Azriel. "I didn’t think I’d have to ask this twice, but... are you out of your mind?"

Azriel’s shadows swirled around him, speaking in tongues. He let out a sound, a mix of disbelief, defensiveness, and the all-too-familiar hint of rage that had been waiting just beneath the surface. Not again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

Rhysand’s humorless chuckle cut through the air. “Oh, trust me, I wish I was.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“I can’t believe you would be so careless as to sneak her out of here when…”

“Her father has no clue,” Azriel shot back, trying to defend the choice, though even he knew it wasn’t enough.

“I bet your scent still lingers on her,” Rhysand snapped. “Do you know how dangerous that could be? For an unwed lady of her status to be caught alone with another male, to smell like another male? It could ruin her. I don’t know what you’re intentions are with her but Y/n is in love with you—”

“I know.” Azriel cut in sharply.

Rhysand’s expression darkened further, his voice hardening into ice. “So you do know. What’s your game here, Az? Because all I can think and worry about is how it will end for her.”

Before Azriel could respond, Rhysand’s voice rang out again, cutting through the growing tension like a blade.

“You will stay away from her.”

The words hit Azriel like a slap, his body going rigid as the words seemed to echo in his mind. Because this was not his brother talking to him. It was his High Lord. His shadows were seething, reflecting the storm brewing inside. How had it come to this…again? The same damn warning, as though Azriel couldn’t be trusted to make his own decisions.

First, it was Mor. Then, it was Elain. And now you.

Unbelievable. His lips twisted into a humorless, bitter smile then. “Should I just ask you for a roster of females I’m allowed to be with? It would save us both a lot of time and trouble.”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again.” Rhysand breathed in sharply, barely able to restrain his vexation. “And I pray to the Mother I won’t have to say it for a third time...”

Azriel’s shadows froze mid-whisper. The room grew quiet and unnervingly still. His wings twitched, as if they too, braced themselves. Because he already knew what was coming.

But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall. Heck, I’ll offer to pay for it this time.”

And the words stung just as sharply as they had the first time.

“Just stay away from y/n.”

[series masterlist]

A/n: I had fun writing this <3 and I hope you can understand a bit more of why reader is madly in love with Az. I mean, who isn't? lol But does he like her back or simply like the idea of someone being in love with him for a change…😈

series tag list: @kaitttttttt , @nebarious , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @justyouraveragekleemain , @tothestarsandwhateverend ,

@ratgirl2020 , @myromanempiree , @vanserrasimp , @itsswritten, @acourtofbatboydreams

@imjustagirl713, @paleidiot, @scarsandallaz, @marina468

@utterlyhopeful-fics, @bia-wayne-west

if you asked to be put on the tag-list and don't see your username, please remind me!

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfiction #eris x reader #eris x you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #hopelessly devoted to eris #hopelessly devoted to azriel

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saturnicos · 1 day ago

Text

. . ⟩ 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗒

› paring: ororon x gn!reader

› cw/tw: just holding hands

› notes: just something silly i wanted to write but it got sm long and bad in the end D: + no proofread

Sunny days were predominant in Natlan even in the densest parts of the forests, mostly representing a subtropical climate in the region. Despite the heat that scorched the entire region during the day, the early evenings were cool with the light cold breezes that passed through, making it a good time for calmer outdoor activities.

Underneath a large and firm tree, you and Ororon rested against it while talking peacefully; the topics ranged from how his garden was going to how his activities in the tribe were going. Despite being frequent moments — since visiting Ororon every evening became something intrinsic to his routine — they all seemed new in the same way, regardless of what.

Ororon felt the same way despite his fears about the condition of his own soul; he would often apologize for any minor misfortune you had during the day in the tribe or in the moments of talking with him, and then all those times you would reassure him that he didn't need to apologize for things that can happen sometimes.

You enjoy his company, so you wouldn't mind even if these misfortunes could be coming from him.

— ...and then granny fell asleep on the table, still holding the glass of drink tightly! I couldn't get out of her grip. — releasing a sigh with false frustration that was soon followed by a laugh, you finished telling a story that had happened to the matriarch in a casual moment to the young bat beside you, who laughed without hesitation.

— Yes, that's just like her... That sounded rude, in fact it seems like something she would casually do. — he replied in return, scratching one of his eyes and adjusting his posture against the large tree, having a weak and low laugh that was still audible. You just smiled.

A moment of silence filled the air; not unpleasant or uncomfortable, but rather a comforting silence that seemed to fill a void. Looking at the sky, you noticed a curious pattern that was formed not far away: stars so close and aligned that they formed the shape of a bat, and right next to it there was a cluster that seemed to form your own symbol.

— Look! — you pointed towards the constellations, looking with fascination at their formation so well positioned on the horizon; both shone beautifully in the sky, now seeming to outshine the other stars around them.

Ororon soon moved slightly to your side, looking clearly in the direction you were pointing and letting a happy smile form in an instant. — Hey, what a great coincidence! I remember that granny knew some legends about constellations.

— One of the things they taught me was about their movement and how rare it is! If you are lucky enough to see two constellations very close to each other, it means that the respective people will also forever be very... — you chattered while remembering one of the myths that were common in your family and often used in astrological superstition overall, remembering how it was recited. However, as you got closer to the end, you assimilated the mythology behind the constellation and how it paralleled the moment between you and Ororon, leaving your voice suddenly broken and low. — ... close.

Feeling reality finally fall on your shoulders, your eyes widened slightly in surprise and a wave of nervousness flooded your mind, unconsciously bringing the feeling of your face heating up and fixing your gaze on Ororon. You wanted to deflect, you really did.

Ororon didn't look that different. Under the reflected light of the moon, his face seemed to take on a reddish hue as his gaze periodically shifted to different spots in the landscape, but he still seemed to have a calm countenance adorning his face.

— W-well, it's just an old and traditional myth, the movement of the stars has nothing to do with it. — you quickly tried to cut the subject short, moving away just a little when you felt the closeness between you two. You normally didn't feel this nervous, but the topic seemed to be enough at this moment.

Ororon, on the other hand, despite his slight blush, seemed calmer than you as he rested his arm on top of his bent knee, seeming to search for something in the back of his mind to say while still contemplating the sky.

— I... I hope so, it would be something cool. — with hesitation, these few words came out of Ororon's mouth as if they were trapped, tied by a knot, and finally managed to free themselves. You could see the young bat's gaze falter for a moment before he lowered his hood over his head, muttering something that sounded like "sorry."

You let out a low, nervous laugh despite the awkwardness that hovered in the room, hesitantly rubbing a hand on Ororon's back as a way of showing comfort even though you still felt nervous.

— No, it's okay! I... I think I would too. It would be cool. — you said almost in a whisper to nothing, being too nervous and embarrassed to give yourself the luxury of saying them with confidence, contenting yourself with just repeating what Ororon had said.

In turn, Ororon found the courage to turn his face just a little to the side despite keeping his hood pulled, meeting his nervous gaze that tried — emphasis on tried — to convey some kind of calm and tranquility.

Even with shame and hesitation being feelings heavily present in the environment, almost as if it were something physical suffocating you, Ororon allowed himself to lift his head in one act, gently holding your hand, which was previously rubbing his back, and intertwining your fingers with his, as if he was trying to convey the same feeling of comfort that you felt.

You didn't say anything, but you were sure that words weren't necessary at that moment, contenting yourself with squeeze his hand and relaxing against the tree again next to him, humming a subtle song while you could see a smile present on Ororon's face.

#i love him sm i can't #unfair that he doesn't get much attention #ororon #ororon x reader #genshin Impact #genshin Impact x reader

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help-i-lost-my-sock · 1 day ago

Text

Electric Blue

Word count: 8,200

Tags: NSFW, 3rd POV, past tense

Established relationship, romantic sex, lingerie, oral (f & m receiving).

Summary: Sanji’s lady decides to spoil him, but Sanji is a giver himself.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

It was no secret that Sanji loved the finer things in life - whether they be fine women, fine cuisine, or fine couture. So what finer way than for the woman of his dreams to spoil him than to bring those things together?

First was a five course menu served with all his friends.

Then, a couple glasses of the finest red they had in stock, sipped at a small table on deck, with just the two of them under the bright moonlight and the myriad of stars that freckled the night sky.

When the chilly breeze overpowered the warmth of the wine, it was time to head in. Sanji, ever the gentleman, slipped his suit jacket off and gently draped it over her shoulders, before leading her to the door. How she adored him. He’d open the doors along the way for her, and hold her hand as she walked down the stairs. Every time he looked her way she could see the love in his eyes. There was a certain glimmer in his eyes that often made his expression border on awe. That night was no different, as Sanji watched her every move, and hung on every word that left her beautiful painted lips with such ardent love and fascination that one might have wondered whether she might just be his All Blue.

And there they were - at their bedroom door. Sanji’s hand reached for the doorknob and let the door fall open before her. Those beautiful red lips smiled at him as she entered the room, with him in tow.

Her hands still clung to the jacket on her shoulders. It was so warm, and smelt like him - a mix of cologne, and cigarette smoke. His scent always made her feel so comfortable and safe - she practically radiated joy whenever he was around.

Closing the door behind them, he turned towards her. “May I take your coat, ma’am?” he asked with a soft smile.

His love turned her back towards him, and tucked her flowing hair out of the way. Sanji gently lifted the jacket off her shoulders and neatly placed it on a hanger that hung off a hook on the wall.

Meanwhile, she went to sit down at their desk. She carefully undid her earrings, placing them in a small jewelery box he had gifted her on their 10th date. She read the inscription above the little mirror in the box - ‘No jewel can shine as bright as you’. The words never failed to bring a tender smile to her lips. Sanji was far more precious than any jewel under the sun.

Having finished hanging the coat, Sanji turned to find her hands were just reaching for the clasp of her necklace. In an instant, he traversed the small space between them. Standing just behind her, his large, warm hands gently grabbed hold of hers.

“Allow me, m’lady” he said, his tone warm and loving.

His nimble fingers made quick work of the dainty clasp, and he carefully removed the thin and fragile necklace from her neck.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she turned around to face him.

“It’s only natural,” he said as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

His lips were warm and soft against her cold skin. His eyes lifted to meet hers, concern written over his face.

“My love, you are freezing. Let’s get you in bed before you catch a cold.”

“Yeah, let’s,” she murmured softly, a subtle smile on her face.

Sanji gently tugged her up by the hand, and she slowly rose to her feet. Upright, she took a step forward, pushing her chest against her partner. The angle gave Sanji a great view into her decollete, now pressed flush against him.

Her head tilted, as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and a small, sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her index finger rubbed against the stubble on his chin as she spoke.

“I think I might need some help,” she said, trailing off. Her hands found his, and gently placed them on her sides, before pushing them as far up along her back as she could, towards her dress’ zipper.

Sanji’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed the look in her eyes as she moved his hands over her body. He wasn’t quite sure what he’s ever done to deserve a woman like her, but he certainly felt blessed.

He couldn’t help but trail his hands up and down over her form a couple of times. There was a choked gasp when he realised how unusual and intricate the sensation beneath her dress was. Had she been wearing it this whole time? The thought made him swallow dryly.

A sly smirk tugged at her lips as she saw the realisation dawn on his face. She tucked her hair out the way once more, making sure there’s none left near the zipper.

“Could you help me… out of this dress?” Her voice feigns innocence, but the look on her face betrays her intention.

She could feel Sanji’s hands travel up to undo her zipper. He was slow, and gentle, as usual. He took his time, savouring the sight of the soft material falling apart to reveal the beauty beneath. She can feel his breath growing ragged as it hits her skin.

The zipper was down, her dress now held up merely by the pressure between them, and their eyes met once more.

She took a small step back, allowing gravity to do its work. The fabric hit the ground with a light thump, revealing her final surprise of the night, and leaving Sanji’s jaw hanging.

Sanji’s eyes travelled down her body. Her heavenly bosom plumped up in a lace push up bra of bright, electric blue. Between her breasts, shone a small, pale blue jewel. Underneath, the bra was linked by short, thin straps to a somewhat broad, elastic band that hugged her ribs.

The garterbelt too had such a band at the top - plain and simple - before it gave way to intricate patterns of soft lace and silky bows, as they hugged his woman’s hips.

Matching blue lace panties peaked from underneath the lace and ribbons.

Thin straps trailed from the high waist band of her garter, down the lace, and finally down her legs, where they clasped around the tops of her hold ups.

Her supple legs, too, bore the same broad, blue bands around her thighs. Flowing from the bands, the top of her stockings was detailed with small, but intricate floral design, similar to those on her other garments. The lace offered a small glimpse at her skin in between the fragile lacy petals, before the stocking turned skin-coloured and smooth, and disappeared into her high heels.

She smiled slyly as she watched Sanji take in the various intricacies of her latest purchase. A drop of blood peeked from Sanji’s nose - a job done well, it seemed.

Sanji admired her in breathless awe - the woman he loved and who loved him back, her soft touch, her honeyed voice as she calls his name, her perfectly beautiful curves, framed so tantalisingly by the killer set she went through the trouble of putting on just for him. Sanji tried to string words together to express his admiration, but it was futile. And unnecessary… For she could read on his awestruck face just how much he liked what he was seeing, and she could tell by the glint in his eyes, and the way he wet his lips just what kind of thoughts were running through his mind that moment.

“Sanji,” she repeated softly; this time breaking him out of his trance.

Sanji shook his head gently trying to regain his composure. “You look ravishing, my love,” he breathed against her knuckles as he kissed them softly.

She smiled at his words. His lips on her knuckles sent a small shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help but remember what those soft, skillful lips of his felt like on other parts of her body.

“You can touch me… not just look, my love,” she says softly, as her hands caress his hand, running idly through his silky blonde locks.

Sanji never meant to seem crass, nor did he ever want to rush her, and so he always tried his best to restrain himself. But when her voice sang such an invitation in his ear, who was he to turn it down?

Sanji took her hands in his, and gently tugged them to the side. His soft lips pressed against her shoulder, and worked their way up her neck with a trail of hot kisses. He pecked her earlobe, before gently taking it between his teeth and sucking on it.

She sighed softly at the feeling, loving the way Sanji always found a way to be both gentle with her, yet still a little rough.

“Do you have any idea what your beauty does to a man, my love?” he purred in her ear.

She merely gave a low chuckle, as she tilted her head back further, allowing him better access to her throat.

Sanji’s lips trailed down her neck once more, and settled on her collarbone. His lips kissed her soft skin. His teeth nipped here and there. He sucked on her neck, just the way he knew she liked it. Then his tongue would lick the marks to ease the sting.

She tugged at his grip on her wrists - wanting to touch him, to feel him under her fingertips, to pull his head up to her lips - and Sanji relented; instead, wrapping his arms around her waist.

His lips trailed lower, down her chest. They found her breasts - so plump and full - so teasingly displayed in that little bra. He nestled his face between them, feeling their softness against his cheeks. Her fingers daintily brushed through his hair, and caressed his head.

His hands traced the outlines of her lingerie along her back - every band, every strap, every ribbon, every frill. He drew in a deep breath. He swore her scent could get him high.

“Do you have any idea what your love does to me, ma cherie?” he asked, his voice now a little deeper.

Her hand tugged gently on his locks. She wanted him to meet her gaze.

“Why don’t you show me?” she asked him with a smile.

It took but a moment for Sanji to dive in and capture her lips. His hand cupped her face gently, while her hands found their way to his strong shoulders and his chest. His tongue slipped quickly into her mouth, and he could feel her smile into the kiss, as he began to lose himself in her scent and the taste of her lipstick. Their tongues danced together, growing ever hungrier for each other’s taste. His hands roamed freely over her body - caressing her waist, her hips, her ass - rubbing over skin and fabrics alike.

Snap! His fingers hooked into the strap of her bra and snapped it lightly. When he felt her moan into his mouth, he knew what she was in the mood for that night. Snap! He snapped the waistband of her garter. Snap! There went the straps holding her stocking.

Every pleased little moan earned her a harder snap. And every harder snap, earned him a deeper moan from her pretty throat.

Hearing her needy sounds for him only fueled his need for her. His lips left hers - now smeared with red - and dove between her breasts, placing desperate kisses all over her exposed skin.

One of her hands found her way on his back, and grasped at his shoulder. The other, meanwhile, tangled in his soft locks once more.

His large, skilled hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them, before pushing them closer together as if wishing to suffocate in her softness, her warmth, her essence. His thumbs brushed over her clothed nipples. Though he could not feel them through the padding, the way she sighed and sucked her lip told him where to be.

Sanji’s hands slipped the straps off her smooth shoulders. His hot lips placed kisses all over her chest. His hands reached up and around her, where his nimble fingers made short work of the hooks on her straps. In a matter of seconds, the bra was tossed to the floor. Released from their constraints, her breasts now captured Sanji’s every attention. His mouth was quick to latch on to her hardened right bud - licking, kissing, and nipping as he went. His other hand, meanwhile, continued to squeeze her left breast, until it was time to switch sides. His eager mouth wasted no time in giving her left breast the same treatment he had just given to her right.

With one hand squeezing her chest, his other hand now made its way down, trailing over the intricacies of her outfit, and giving her plump ass a good squeeze. Her skin was starting to grow warmer under his ministrations. Her breath picked up, punctuated by the occasional sigh and moan.

Sanji’s tongue ceaselessly worked her nipples in turns, while his hand, continuing to grope her ass, inched closer and closer to her core. The anticipation made her shiver - a sign that was not lost on her lover. It wasn’t long until Sanji’s long fingers went for a feel. He needed to know just how much he was pleasing her, just how wet she was for him - just how much she wanted him.

His finger brushed against her gently, softly, teasingly… Then he stopped abruptly. He looked up at her with wide eyes, and his mouth hanging slightly as he tried to string the words together. His finger was coated in slick. The sly grin on her face - her lipstick now dishevelled out of bounds - and that subtle wiggle of her eyebrows gave him the answer to his silent question.

Sanji could feel a thin stream of blood peak from his nostril as the realisation sunk in. He didn’t think he could have loved this woman even more, and yet, here he was, overcome with love and lust alike for the goddess before him.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned the blood off his face. Afterall, it wouldn’t do to smear the lady with his blood.

“I didn’t think I could love you even more,” he whispered, as he stared down at his wet finger. His confession earned him a mischievous smile from his lover.

“Oh?” she mused teasingly, as she gently pushed his wet digit into his mouth. Sanji’s lips parted, taking it in, and sucking her essence clean off. He hummed at the taste - every aspect of her was simply delicious to him. She smiled at the sound and let go of his hand.

“How about you show me just how much you love me then?” she asked, a mischievous grin on her beautiful lips. She slowly turned around for him, his eyes trained on her form as she moved. Bending over slowly, she propped herself on the desk seat. The frilly lace of her blue panties parted to frame her lips perfectly, and reveal her welcoming warmth to him. Her pussy glistened with arousal, twitching slightly in anticipation.

Sanji wasted no time yanking his tie loose, and dropping to his knees behind her. It was far from the first time eating her out, yet he could never tire of it. Sanji was a pleaser - if he could spend the rest of his life pleasuring this divine being that deigned to claim him as her own, he could die a happy man.

He grabbed her hips and teasingly traced her folds with his tongue, making her jolt from the sensitivity. Sanji smirked at her reaction. His hands trailed

“My gods, darling, everything about you is simply divine,” he murmured as his hands roamed over her belt - over silky and lacey fabrics alike, before settling on her ass cheeks. His breath fanned over her core, sending a shiver up her spine. Then Sanji’s fingers slipped under her straps - it was so close, so intimate, like being bound to her in body too, and not just heart. His heart thumped at the thought.

“To think that I get to taste you…” His words trailed off. His tongue flicked over her sensitive bud, making her pussy clench hard.

“...is more than I deserve…” He continued. His tongue dragged languidly over her wet warmth. Sanji moaned at the taste, sending pleasant vibrations up her back.

“...and I thank you for it, love.”

With that, he eagerly set about his work. His tongue licked circles over her clit, making her tense with pleasure. It then trailed over her folds - once, twice, thrice. With every flick of his tongue, her sounds grew more strained - more needy - wordlessly asking for more.

Every time he dipped past her entrance, her needy core would clench around nothing, pushing out more of her essence. Every time he left her aching, she’d whine so sweetly. His tongue dipped between her folds - after all, who was Sanji to deny his lady her wish?

She hummed at the feeling of his slippery muscle exploring her wet core. Her fingers grasped a little tighter at the little cushion on the chair. The way he ate her never disappointed - he seemed insatiable; like a parched man who’d just discovered an oasis in the desert.

Sanji devoured her feverishly. He lapped at her juices as if trying to get every last drop into his mouth. He hummed and moaned at the taste; at the thought of pleasuring her. His sounds of pleasure vibrated against her core, adding to the stimulation. His hums and moans were met with whines and moans of her own, only spurring him on.

His lips latched onto her clit, sucking on it just the way she liked it. He moaned softly as his tongue assaulted her little bundle of nerves in all the best, most delicious ways.

She struggled to keep her voice down. No one needed to hear this but them… And maybe the Marimo, though that was mostly Sanji’s opinion. He’d have loved to rub it in his face… Yet, restrained as they were, their moans were enough to fill the small room.

Her restraint began to falter when Sanji dipped a long, graceful finger inside her, easing it in, bit by bit. With Sanji now knuckle-deep in her, she nearly choked on her strained moan when he began to curl his finger, tickling that sweet spot. He curled and pumped his finger inside her as he continued to lick her clit relentlessly.

She dipped down to her elbows, and placed a hand over her mouth, trying to tame her voice. But Sanji was having none of that, as he slipped in a second digit, and began pumping them faster.

“Come on, love,” he hummed. “Let it out, love” he encouraged. “Let me hear that beautiful voice.” His tongue sucked hard on her swollen clit, as his fingers curled to press hard on her soft spot. And she broke… A loud moan escaped past her hands, prompting her to press her palm harder to her lips. But Sanji would not have it, as he continued his ministrations ín force.

“Sanji,” she managed to choke out. “They’ll… hear- ah! Ah! Sanji!” She could feel a grin tugging at his lips.

“Hmm? Let them hear us,” he hummed against her. “You just enjoy yourself, love.”

Sanji felt honoured to be of such intimate service to a woman as precious and radiant as her; honoured to be allowed to dip his sinner’s tongue between her precious folds. And he would do anything and everything in his power to ensure her pleasure.

“Come on, love,” he urged on. His free hand pinched one of her garter straps. “Let go.” Snap. He let go. The strap snapped against her skin, adding a pleasant sting to his words. “Cum for me…” His fingers curl and pump inside her, hitting her soft spot faster and harder. “Please...”

The way he was working her cunt - his lips on her flesh, his tongue flicking over her clit, his fingers ruthlessly hitting all the right spots, the way he hummed against her, sending such pleasant shivers up her spine, and those dirty words leaving his pretty lips, giving her goosebumps - made it near impossible to keep her voice down. Her climax was approaching fast. She was panting as she felt that familiar knot form in her belly. Her moans grew louder, as her walls started clenching harder and faster around his fingers. Sanji could tell she was close.

“Come on, love. Let go,” he urged again. His voice was low, and deep. There was that certain tone he only ever got when they were alone together. He knew it drove her wild.

Her voice was growing louder - just the way he wanted it to. He snapped her garter strap again. Her walls spasmed. She could feel that knot tightening, threatening to burst. Sanji had to fight back a smirk. She was so close. His fingers rubbed her clit fast. He hummed deeply as he continued to suck and licked her clit. The vibrations rushed through her core, through every nerve, finally pushing her over the edge.

“Sanji~” Her voice sang out his name on a broken moan as she came undone around his fingers. Sanji chuckled, pleased with himself, as he continued to finger her through her orgasm. His chuckle sent another wave of pleasure to her sensitive core, making her clench even harder around him. Her sweet sounds filled the room as she moaned and panted in ecstasy.

Sanji pulled his fingers out of her weeping cunt. She was slowly coming down from her high, and he took the opportunity to indulge himself, and dive in, lapping at her nectar. His tongue dragged past her folds a few times, before dipping in to collect as much of her essence on his tongue as he could.

She was still sensitive from her release. The feeling on his tongue hungrily roaming her insides once more was intense - almost too much. Her fingers clenched at the seat’s cushion. She whimpered as he continued to eat her out for a few more seconds. It was intense, but she knew he loved this part oh so much. And afterall, she didn’t mind it all that much either. She loved the way he revered and adored her.

He squeezed her ass cheeks and pushed them closer together. His face was a mess by now - coated in her thick, glistening slick - and he loved it that way. He could have done it for days, but the way she whimpered under his touch told him that a few more licks will have had to suffice for now.

His tongue slipped out of her once more. His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief to quickly clean up his face - It wouldn’t do for a gentleman to kiss a lady while smeared so.

Having cleaned himself up, he tossed the handkerchief on the desk. He watched her as she steadied her breath and regained her composure. She arched her back, stretching like a cat. How graceful she was in all things. Sanji rose to his feet, and she turned around to face him. Their eyes met, and they both smiled at each other - softly, gently, like the love in their hearts.

“That was so good, darling,” she praised him. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. Her thumb lightly rubbed over his stubble.

“Only my best for you, cherie,” he responded, while taking his hand in his once more and placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

Leaning in, she beckoned Sanji to kiss her. Their lips met in a slow, deep kiss. Her hands caressed his firm chest and arms slowly, sensually. His hands cupped her face, before one of them sank to rest on her lower back. His hand was large, warm, and soothing. It made her feel safe… wanted… like she truly belonged there, in his arms.

She pressed her lips harder against his. Sanji happily obliged her, and deepened the kiss. Her hands made short work of loosening his dress shirt’s buttons. Her hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling it rise and fall. His breathing was slowly picking up, as was hers. She paused for a few moments over his left breast. She could feel his heart beat firmly in his chest. Though it beat fast, she knew that it beat fast for her, with love, and with desire. Every time she felt his heart beneath her fingertips, or laid her head on his chest, she was reminded of just how deeply one can love another.

She smiled into the kiss. Her hands resumed their travels, continuing on south - down from his firm chest and to his sculpted abs. His muscles tensed under her touch. Her fingers traced them slowly, feeling the way they dipped and bulged.

Sanji licked her bottom lip, gently requesting entrance - a request she most happily approved. Her soft lips parted for him, and his tongue entered her mouth slowly. The kiss was slow, yet passionate. Sanji took his time to savour her tongue on his, swallowing the soft moans she gave him. His hands reached down to squeeze her plump ass, and he groaned softly into the kiss.

One of her hands slipped further down. It trailed lightly over his belt, feigning to hook its fingers in it, before continuing on lower, and settling on his bulge. His hard shaft twitched in his pants under her light touch. She smirked into the kiss. Her hand applied more pressure, and began rubbing up and down his generous length. The roles now reversed, Sanji groaned into her mouth - his cock straining against the constraints of his suit pants.

Her fingers hooked themselves into his belt, and made short work of his buckle. Then the button… and finally the zipper. Sanji made a somewhat high pitched noise at the newfound freedom. He loved it so much when she undressed him - it just made him feel so wanted. And to be wanted by a woman like her was certainly quite the accomplishment.

His hands travelled up to cup her face. He meant to do so gently, as a silent ‘I love you’, but the way she shuffled his pants off his hips and grabbed a firm hold of his clothed hard cock, made it hard to contain himself. Sanji took control of the kiss. His lips pressed harder against hers. His mouth became insatiable. He needed her. He needed her in every way conceivable. To love, to cherish, to hold… and to fuck absolutely senseless.

She melted into the kiss. Melted in his warm, large hands as they trailed over her body, pawing at her every curve.

It didn’t take her long to yank the boxers off his hips. His pretty cock sprang to attention - long, thick and glistening with precum. Her thumb rubbed over his tip, spreading the precum around, earning her a grateful moan from her man.

Their mouths parted slowly. They both looked so messy smeared with her lipstick, and a string of drool dangling between their lips. They gazed into each other's eyes. There was love and passion in them - soft as the soothing summer rain, yet wild like the storm. She pecked him on the lips once more before shooting him a look. There was a cheeky grin on her lips, and her eyes spelled mischief.

“Sit down, love,” she urged, as her hands nudged him towards the bed behind him.

Sanji obliged, stumbling back, his pants still around his legs. A few shuffles later, he plopped on their soft bed. His hands lingered on her form, running up and down her sides, and rubbing over the soft fabrics that hugged her curves so sinfully. His eyes, turned upward, behold her with an awe that borders on reverence.

“You are truly majestic, my love. How a man like me could be so blessed, nobody knows,” he murmurs softly.

She smiled and shook her head at him. Placing her hands on his strong shoulders, she leant in to plant a soft, warm kiss to his swollen lips.

“I’m the one that’s lucky to have you, darling. And tonight I want to show you just how much I appreciate you,” she whispered against his lips.

With one more gentle kiss to his lips, she sank to her knees before him. Her hands pulled his boxers and his pants all the way off, and he shuffled them off his feet, tossing them someplace in the room.

His length stood firm at attention. He could feel her breath slowly fanning over it as she looked up at him. Her warm hand wrapped around his girth, her hand too small to wrap all the way around it. She smiled up at him as she slowly began pumping his cock.

“Wait,” he said. His hand reached back and grabbed a cushion. Bending forward, he gestured for her to place it under her knees. “Here,” he said, as she allowed him to slip the puffy padding under her, “it wouldn’t do to have you kneeling on the hard floor.”

Sanji’d always been so soft and caring towards her.

“Thank you, love,” she murmured, giving him a warm smile.

Sanji returned the smile, and placed a hand on her head, caressing her hair.

Her eyes then turned to her work. His tip was still squeezing out tiny droplets of desire. She rubbed the tip, spreading it around. Her head dipped down and began pressing chaste kisses along his length, from the thick bottom, to his pretty, pink tip.

Sanji sighed, feeling her lips teasingly kissing his shaft. His cock twitched hard when her tongue flattened against the base and traced a long line up to his tip. She teased the tip of his dick, tasting the salty cock droplets. Her lips sucked on the tip, as if trying to get more of it. Then, she set about licking along his length a few more times. It was torture for Sanji, but he was not one to complain. While eager to feel her beautiful lips wrapped around his cock, his length sliding down her pretty little throat, a part of him relished the teasing and anticipation. His fingers twitched in her hair, trying to grab it just yet, trying to keep himself composed.

She judged how long to tease him based on his reactions - his wistful sighs, the tensing muscles in his strong legs, and the way his cock twitched so deliciously in her hand, begging for more. At last, she relented. Her eyes looked up at him as she tentatively wrapped her lips around his tip and sucked gently. Sanji nearly hissed at the feeling. She sucked a little harder, and could feel his fingers twitch in her hair again.

Gathering some spit in her mouth, she welcomed him in her mouth, slowly inching down along his smooth length. She could hear him sigh above her. His hands now gathered her hair at the top of her head. His fingers tangled in her silky soft locks, keeping them out of her face.

She’d made it about halfway down when she began slowly bobbing her head. One hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping him in sync with her mouth. The other hand rose to cup his balls and gently fondle them.

He swallowed dryly and tried to hold back a whimper. This only urged her on to suck on him harder.

Sanji’s breath was becoming shallower. His cheeks were dusted with such a pretty pink, as he looked down at her head bobbing up and down his length. Her hand would sometimes twist around his cock. Every now and then she would give him a particularly harsh suck, and he would groan. Down below, she took his sighs and groans as compliments and directions.

His girth was generous and she would sometimes need a small break. In those moments, she would sometimes settle on teasing the soft, pink tip - sucking it, or swirling her tongue over it. Other times, she would pump his full length with both hands. Either way, she would leave him waiting for too long.

She was quick to show him just how much she appreciated him. Removing a hand from his cock and placing it back on his sack, she dove down along his length, swallowing him whole.

Her lover gasped at the sudden wave of warmth and pleasure, somewhat surprised to suddenly feel himself sliding down her throat. She held him there for a little while, enjoying the way he moaned helplessly above her. Sanji had always been vocal in bed, and she loved it. Trying to elicit those sounds out of him was something of a competition she had with herself.

She began moving her head up and down again, sucking as hard as she could along the way, before releasing him from her mouth again with a lewd pop. She was such a mess as she looked up at him, all flushed and panting. A string of drool hung ‘tween her lips and his cock, and Sanji was quite convinced there were few sights more obscene than this. His cock was covered in her spit. Her once painted lips had left a red ring around the thick base of his cock, a reminder of how deep she’d gone. Sanji’s heart skipped a beat when he looked at her like that. Even after all this time, he sometimes still could not believe his luck. He felt beyond special to have such an effervescent beauty on her knees for him, sucking him off.

She looked up at him with flushed cheeks and teary eyes. There was still that smile on her face, as if silently asking ‘Is this good enough for you?’ It was about to drive him mad.

“You are too good for me, ma cherie,” he muttered, and she grinned, diving back down. She insisted on giving him her best shot. Even if it often made her choke and gag, it didn’t matter. Hell, judging by his sounds, the vibrations must have been quite nice for him. Or maybe it was the sound of her choosing his fat cock over the oxygen she needed to breathe?

Drool coated her fist, and dripped down towards his balls. His breaths were shallow and ragged. His legs trembled, and she could feel his balls tightening. He was close to cumming. She could feel it. And she wanted to taste it.

Though struggling, she tried to keep up the pace - bobbing, and sucking, pumping as needed. It was no easy task, but it was worth it to see the look on his face when she swallowed his milk.

Sanji moaned above her. His one hand grabbed a hold of her hair, while his other hand clutched the sheets. She bobbed her head faster, trying to take him as deeply as she could without gagging too much. Her mouth threatened to suck the very life right out of him in the most deliciously zealous way. When she moaned around his cock, it was game over. He throbbed in her hand, and twitched in her mouth. His cum spurted into her mouth as she continued to pump him through his orgasm. A strangled gasp left his lips as he tried to steady his breath, as his hand slowly caressed her head.

Once he stopped twitching, she released his spent cock from her mouth and looked up to him with a smile. His eyes gazed down at her with the most tender expression; love, admiration, and gratitude written all over his handsome features.

She opened her mouth. His breath stopped and his body tensed with a new wave of arousal as he looked at the salty white liquid that filled her pretty mouth. She then swallowed heavily, not taking his eyes off him for a second. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her pretty little throat twitch as she swallowed his load. Her fingers came up to gingerly dab the corners of her mouth - her thumb brushing lightly against one corner of her lips, then her ring finger against the other. She was breathtaking.

She slowly rose to her feet and placed her hands on his shoulders. His gaze followed her, mesmerised.

“Lay back, love,” she instructed, as her hands gently pushed down on his strong shoulders. Sanji did as he was told. Who was he to disobey his lady, especially when she was being so very persuasive?

With him flat against the mattress, she wasted no time climbing on top of him, her thick thighs straddling him. Her hands roamed every inch of his chiselled, exposed torso, as she leant down and captured his lips in a fervent kiss.

Sanji grabbed her shoulders, pushing her upright and following suit. His hands desperately tugged at his shirt, trying to shake it off his shoulders. Catching on, she rushed to help. The more skin exposed, the better. They quickly managed to dispose of his shirt, tossing it somewhere across the room, and resuming position. Her hands pushed him back down on the bed, while his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss was growing more and more heated. Lips dancing against each other’s, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, hands roaming wherever they could reach. Sanji ground up against her; his hard length pressing and rubbing against her slick, wet folds.

She broke the kiss, leaving his still hungry lips hanging, and quickly latched on to his neck, kissing, sucking, and licking down, along his neck, collar bones, and chest.

His hands roamed her sides, tracing the smooth curves over her body. He enjoyed the contrast between her bare skin and the intricate designs of the lingerie still enclosing her hips, her waist, her legs.

Jolting up, and arching her back, she ground her heat over his cock. She moaned at the friction, and panted lightly as she smiled down at him.

“Ready for the main course?” she asked.There was a frenzied look on her face as she looked down at him - anticipation, no doubt. She could feel him twitch against her.

“Oh, I could not be more ready,” he rasped, as he reached up to cup the back of her head and pull her down in an ardent kiss. His free hand reached down, and positioned his cock at her entrance. She was practically dripping for him. He prodded her entrance, always making sure she wasn’t forcing it. He moaned into the kiss. Her walls clamped hard around him, before letting up again.

“You doing alright, love?” he asked. No matter how many times they did this, his concern for her well-being and satisfaction would never cease, nor diminish.

“Mmm~,” she hummed, as she rose up again and dragged a hand through her dishevelled hair. “I am more than alright,” she assured him, right before her hips pressed down on him; her needy cunt swallowing his length whole, the sudden feeling making them both gasp loudly.

“Gods,” he gasped, as his hands grabbed her ass. “Ah~” His head fell back against the mattress. “You’re so. fucking . tight!” he hissed between his teeth, as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. She could only moan in response, as her walls clenched around him, still adjusting to his sizeable girth. Sanji, too, could use the moment to steady himself - wouldn’t want to disappoint the lady, now, would he?

They laid there for a moment or two, in each other’s embrace, as they caught their breath and adjusted to one another. Their eyes then met - there was that same frenzied, hungry look in them. A small smile twisted on her lips in a blend of sweet love and unadulterated lust. A nod of her head was all he needed - his hips pulled back slowly, then pushed back up into her heat. Her hips met his tempo, bouncing herself up and down his length as her tongue slipped into his mouth. Moans and sighs were muffled by their kiss. The slapping sounds of skin on skin echoes off the walls of their bedroom. One’s drool in the other’s mouth. One’s sweat on the other’s body. One’s juices blending with their lover’s.

The heat was rising. The tempo picked up. Fingers dug deeper in each other’s flesh - her nails clawed at his chest; his fingers dug into her hips as he helped bounce her up and down his cock. Her juices coated him completely. Sanji admired the way sweat started dripping down her neck… pooling between her plump and glistening breasts as they bounced around for him. But there was only so far she could go. She could not keep up with the pace any longer - her legs were tired, her body felt heavy. Sanji noticed, and stilled her hips, pulling them down on him. He smiled at her.

“You’ve done far more than enough, my love,” he said. His hand reached up and gently grasped her chin between his fingers. He guided her down to his lips, meeting her halfway in a soft kiss. “It’s time I took good care of my lady,” he said softly, placing one more kiss to her lips, before flipping her on her back. He never once broke their union - it would have been sacrilegious.

Sanji wasted no time resuming their dance. His pace was steady, moderate, as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Sanji,” she sighed. “Please~ I need more…”

She didn’t need to ask him twice.

Sanji carefully grabbed her thighs, and lifted them slowly. His warm lips pressed soft kisses to the sides of her knees as he eyed her, checking for any signs of discomfort. But the deeper angle only made her sigh in pleasure and drop her head back on the pillow. This was good.

Sanji smiled to himself as he watched her face twist in pleasure. He could do this all night, just to see her like that. And he loved to hear the way his name would fall from her swollen lips in broken moans or breathy whispers; the way she chanted his name and his praises; the way she begged for more, as if in prayer.

Indeed, it had come thus far. He hadn’t even noticed how his pace had picked up, but she clearly had - there was no doubt that she’d forgotten all about being quiet… or perhaps no longer cared? Her cries filled the room as his cock bullied her G-spot.

“Sa- Sa- Ah! Sanji! Sanji! Oh! Harder! F-Fuck- Fuck me- Harder!”

Sanji leaned a little heavier on her legs, propping them closer to her chest, fucking her still deeper. He leaned down, their foreheads nearly touching, their breaths mixing as they panted and moaned and groaned in unison. Her arms reached up to wrap around his neck. A sheen of sweat was starting to form on his brow as he pounded her harder. The heat was steadily rising. Her legs wrapped around his waist, trapping him against her body. Her cunt was so tight, so welcoming, so… greedy for him.

“My gods, I love you,” he groaned in her ear, each word punctuated by a hard thrust.

She was past the point of stringing words together - every sound coming from her pretty throat a wanton cry begging for more as her fingers clawed at his back.

Sanji was mesmerised by her - the pretty sounds she made, the way her breasts bounced so sensually before him with every impact, the way she was so needy for him and only him, the way he’d reduced her to this moaning, screaming mess.

The room was filled with their pleasure - their moans and cries, the sounds of her soppy cunt, and his balls slapping against her ass, the smell of sweat and sex, the growing heat… It wasn’t all that long until her walls started clenching around him. Sanji sucked a breath in. She was threatening to pull him over the edge, but he had to hold back - hold until he knew she’d come.But it was hard… So damn hard…

“I - I’m so close!” she cried out. Sanji groaned in response. He was giving it his all and then some. His hands grasped her shoulders for leverage, aiming to go as deep as he could.

With a broken moan she came undone beneath him, her slick coating his cock and forming a white ring around the thick base. She looked so pretty like that - her lips parted in a silent scream, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Sanji kept fucking her through her orgasm. His pace was growing frenzied as he searched for his own. He was so close… So close! He needed to be deep - as deep as he could - when he pumped her full of his milky white seed.

And there he was, coming just shortly after her. Her body’d gone limp in bliss underneath him; the biggest smile on her face - all blissed out. Her legs trembled around his waist as his thrusts stuttered. He pushed into her a few more times, pumping his cum into her greedy cunt, then slowed down.

He placed his forehead on hers and looked into her eyes. This had to be the very height of love; the closest that two souls could get to becoming one - their sweat, their cum, their breaths all mixing, as they gazed into each other’s eyes. They say the eyes are windows to the soul… And Sanji could remember ever having seen such a bright and beautiful soul before in his life.

Silence fell over them as they slowly came down from their highs. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks.

“I love you,” he whispered, breaking the silence, and his lips found hers in a long, sweet kiss - gentle, tender and full of love.

When their lips parted, she looked up at him with a sweet smile.

“Are you ready, love?” she asked softly. She knew she had to ask it - if it had been for Sanji, he probably wouldn’t have pulled out ever again. And Sanji knew it too…

Sanji nodded. “You know I’ll never be ready. So it’s up to you, love,” he said with a small smile, and a hint of amusement on his face.

She giggled and nodded at him. Sanji shifted his weight around, and he slowly pulled out of her. Watching his seed seep out of her twitching cunt was a sight to behold; a sight he’d never tire of. A part of him was considering trying to go for another round, but the look on her face told him she was spent for the night. ‘And what a perfectly wonderful night it’s been,’ he thought to himself.

Standing up, Sanji headed to the faucet in their little en-suite bathroom. When they decided to move in together, Sanji asked Franky if he could arrange some privacy for them, which Franky was happy to puzzle out.

He grabbed a soft wash-cloth and turned on the tap, letting it run warm for a moment. He washed himself in the low basin with warm water and soap, then returned to her with the warm, damp cloth.

She was still laying on the bed; her legs still somewhat open. The flush on her skin was starting to wear off.

Sanji sat down on the bed and began cleaning her up. He did this every time. Of course she could do it herself, but he always insisted that it was the least he could do for her and the truth was that she enjoyed the extended intimacy.

She’d watch him clean her up - always so careful of hurting her - and talk to him in hushed tones about this or the other, blending in sweet nothings wherever she could. He was just so good to her.

When he was done, he went and placed the cloth on the edge of the sink, and made haste to return to her.

“Shall I get you your nightgown, love?” he asked, noticing the goosebumps on her skin.

“I don’t think I’ll need it with you by my side,” she answered, getting under the blankets and holding them open for him to join.

Sanji smiled at her. Smiled to himself. He’d never imagined such a love was possible - certainly not for him. And yet, here they were - more in love than the poets could verse.

He made his way to the bed and crawled in beside her. He turned the lights out from the switch by the bedside.

She turned around and pulled her hair back. Sanji slipped an arm under her head, while his other arm went to pull her closer. He nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent - perfume, and sweat… and him.

Her hips shuffled around, pushing back against his. “You know,” she started, “the early hours are particularly cold… I might need some extra help to stay warm in the morning,” he mused, and she could feel Sanji’s soldier rise up to attention again.

Tag list: @sampaisleyriot Not sure which of the guys you were waiting for (if any in particular), but I hope you like it :)

#Not proofread #Might edit later #Building on my OP Lingerie HCs #divider by cafekitsune #one piece #one piece smut #Sanji x Reader #Sanji x Reader Smut #Black Leg Sanji #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji x reader #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji smut

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n0vazsq · 2 days ago

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Forgotten wishes | AL65 x Reader

pairing . . . arthur leclerc x ex!reader

summary . . . After you meet Arthur, your ex, at an empty parking lot, you decide to try to talk to him about your relationship. In the end, you have a hope that maybe it isn't all over yet

request . . . yes! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . angst angst angst all the way angst and one use of y/n

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . haha i totally didn't cry my ass off writing this!! IM SO SORRY ( @barcapix ) BECAUSE IT ENDED LIKE THIS

. . . You didn’t expect to see him. Not here. The spot overlooking the harbor had always been a safe a space; a place to breathe, to watch the stars reflect off the water and pretend the world wasn’t falling apart. It had been yours, once. Yours and Arthur’s.

Leaning against your motorbike, you sighed. The loud thrum of his car engine were unmistakable, the red colour of his Ferrari flashing everywhere, even in the soft glow of the streetlamp.

As the engine softened, the door opened and he stepped out. You held your breath, heart skipping a beat as if it was playing hopscotch. He hadn’t noticed you yet, leaning his body against the railing, eyes fixed on the horizon.

The wind tugged at his hair, but he didn’t seem to feel it. His shoulders were tense, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. You knew that look.

You almost turned to leave. Almost. But something held you in place, the same something that always brought you back here, nights when the silence was too loud and your chest felt too heavy.

He turned, eyes widening when he saw you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The wind carried the scent of salt and distant rain, and the night stretched out between you, filled with ghosts of conversations you never had.

"Didn’t think I’d see you here," he finally said, his voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves below.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your heart twisted and started beating out of your chest. "I could say the same."

He looked back out at the water, the tension in his jaw easing just a little. "Still come here when it gets too much?"

"Yeah." The word felt small. Too small. Yet, the space between you was as vast as a thousand canyons combined.

The night sky was a patchwork of forgotten wishes, each star a memory you and Arthur couldn’t hold onto. It wrapped around you like a blanket of thorns, each moment of silence another prick.

You both stood there, the space between you filled with everything you weren’t saying. The air felt heavier than it should, every breath a reminder of what you’d lost.

When Arthur finally spoke, his words were like cracked porcelain; delicate, but also sharp, cutting you deep.

"We stood in this same space once, remember?" His voice was quiet, almost lost to the wind. "Laughing about how empty it was. Now it feels too big… just like the distance that is between us."

You remembered. The way his laughter had echoed, the way he’d pulled you close and whispered promises you both believed at the time. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"You broke us, Arthur." The words slipped out, raw and bitter. Your hands were shaking

He flinched, eyes meeting yours for a brief, painful moment. "I know, (Y/n)." His voice was soft, almost drowned by the crashing waves. The way he said your name made you melt, like it always did. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Walking away? How was that right?"

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration seeping into his voice. "You think it was easy for me? Every fight, every silence… it felt like we were drifting. I thought… I thought letting go would save us from breaking completely."

"But we did break." Your voice cracked, the memories crashing over you; the late night arguments, the slammed doors, the quiet moments where you both reached for each other but missed.

"You were always somewhere else," you continued, voice trembling. "Your job, your friends… I felt like I was barely a part of your life. Like I was unimportant, just a distraction."

Arthur’s eyes hardened, his jaw clenching. "And you were perfect, right? Every time I was late or distracted, you shut down. You wouldn’t talk to me."

"I tried!" The words came out sharper than you intended. "But you weren’t there to hear it. You were too busy with everything else."

He took a deep breath, the fight draining out of him. "I know. I prioritized the wrong things. Thought I had time to fix it later."

"Later never came, Arthur."

The silence stretched again, thick with everything you couldn’t say. The stars above seemed to watch, each one a distant reminder of what could’ve been.

"I still come here," you whispered, more to yourself than him. "When I miss you. When it hurts too much."

His eyes softened, the walls around them slipping for just a moment. "Me too."

The wind carried your silence, filled with words left unsaid. You could feel it, the love that hadn’t faded, buried under layers of hurt and regret. But love wasn’t always enough.

Arthur shifted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know how to fix this."

"Neither do I."

The night wrapped around you both, the harbor stretching out below like a sea of broken memories. There was no resolution here, no easy answers. Just two people standing in the ruins of something beautiful, still attached to a past they couldn’t let go of.

The wind picked up, swirling leaves and fragments of old conversations around you. You remembered the nights you’d spent here together, wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about dreams that seemed so close you could touch them. Dreams that had slipped through your fingers like sand.

Then, you remembered your first kiss. You and Arthur. Tangled in each other's arms, the sound of the waves soothing you to a state of relaxation. It seemed as if that happened millenniums ago.

"You think we could’ve done it differently?" Arthur’s voice was almost lost in the wind.

"Maybe." The word hung between you, fragile and uncertain. "But we didn’t."

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel his warmth. "Do you regret it?"

The question lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. You thought about everything you’d shared; the laughter, the pain, the quiet moments that felt like they would last forever. "No. Do you?"

He didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost broken. "No."

As Arthur turned to leave, he hesitated, his eyes lingering on you. "Maybe… maybe this isn’t the end."

You stood there, your heart heavy, the words caught in your throat. "You don’t get to just walk away, Arthur. Not like this."

His steps faltered, and for a moment, you both just stood there, staring at each other across the distance that had grown between you. The wind tugged at your hair, but neither of you moved.

"I still love you," you whispered, barely audible. "But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore."

Arthur’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer, but stopped short. His voice was thick with emotion when he finally spoke. "I don’t know how to fix this. But I’ll never stop caring about you."

The ache in your chest didn’t ease, but deep down, beneath the hurt and the silence, a flicker of something remained.

It wasn’t over. Not yet. But it wasn’t healed, either. Just a patchwork of forgotten wishes, waiting for a second chance that may never come.

And as the night wrapped around you, you realized some love stories don’t end, they just take time to heal, if they ever do.

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vanilladiorr · 2 days ago

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𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘁 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 – 𝘗𝘢𝘶 𝘊𝘶𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘪

────────────────────────────

Summary: Pau, your neighbor, had always liked you, but he could never express it because of how shy he was. And one day while stargazing with you he finally let it out..

Pairing: Pau x FEM!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning/s: None

A/n: This is my first time writing on tumblr, so pls forgive me for any mistakes, There might be some grammatical mistakes. Forgive me for that too.

───────────────────────────

Laying on your bed lazily, you looked at the ceiling. A sigh left your mouth as you put on your headphones. "Today sucked," you muttered to yourself.

You scrolled through your phone, searching for a relaxing piece of music. Once you picked one, you looked out of your window before turning your back to it.

On the other hand.

Pau, your neighbor, was quietly grabbing his bag, preparing to sneak out of his house and make his way over to yours.

He slowly and quietly climbed up to your window, taking advantage of the cover of night to ensure no one would notice him sneaking out.

Once he reached the window, he peeked inside, his eyes falling on your back as you lay on the bed.

You lay silently on the bed, your eyes closed as you silently listened to the peaceful music through your headphones, completely unaware of the figure watching you quietly..

You were startled as Pau suddenly tapped your shoulder, causing you to almost whisper-yell at him, "What are you doing here?"

He put his finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet. "Let's go," he whispered, "I've found a new spot where we can have an amazing view of the stars."

"I don't feel like it," you stated firmly, only to be forcefully pulled out of the bed by Pau.

"you will"

After a good ten minutes of relentless convincing, you reluctantly agreed. As Pau and you quietly sneaked out of your house, heading towards the spot he suggested.

The spot he led you to was quite nice. He sat down on the grass and patted the spot next to him, motioning for you to sit as well.

He looked at you with concern, asking, "How was your day? I noticed you were looking upset all day."

You silently focused on the stars above, stars that glimmered in the night sky. "It's nothing," you responded, "I just had a fight." Pau nodded in understanding.

Gradually, the mood began to lighten as Pau continued to crack jokes and share stories about his day, all in an effort to bring a smile to your face.

Your lips curled into a warm smile as you spoke, "Pau, you're such a sweetheart,"

His cheeks flushed with a soft tinge of pink as he melted under your words. He met your gaze, a gentle smile playing on his lips, and said, "You too, but you're my sweetheart."

He immediately realized his slip-up and apologized, but you couldn't help but let out a lighthearted laugh.

"it's okay" you said

"Pau, if you had a chance to make a wish upon a shooting star, what would you wish for?" You asked.

His heart quickened its tempo as he confessed, "There's a girl I've liked for years. So I would wish for her to be mine." He spoke without looking at you, the color in his cheeks betraying his flustered state.

"who?" You asked quitely

"the one sitting beside me" he said, Your breath caught in your chest as his words hit you, and your cheeks began to burn.

"Excuse me what?" You asked again

He took a deep breath, his words coming in a rush as he confessed, "I like you, Y/N. I've liked you ever since we were freshmen. I like you too much." His voice trembled with both nervousness and excitement, his eyes searching yours.

He confessed further, explaining the reason behind his sudden confession. "Seeing you smile at that boy yesterday scared me. I got worried that you might like him, so I decided to confess my feelings to you before anything happened."

A warm smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied, "I don't like him, he's just a friend of mine. In fact..." You paused, mustering up your courage before confessing. "...I like you too."

"Really?" He asked, not believing what he just heard.. You nodded "Yes"

You wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, and he responded by holding you even tighter in return. Then, he asked, flustered and all nervous "Can I be your boyfriend?"

"Of course" you said

He couldn't help but smile as your response, a sense of joy washed over him. He met your gaze, his eyes filled with a depth of love and affection, and he reached out to gently caress your cheek.

You felt a gentle caress upon your neck as he slowly moved closer, Kissing your lips slowly and gently, he moved his hands to caress ur cheek.

You pulled away, looking directly into his eyes, and stated with a soft smile, "I like you!" you said.

"I love you"

#pau cubarsi #pau cubarsi x you #pau cubarsi x reader #pau cubarsi imagine #fc barcelona #football #fluff #visca barca #hector fort #pablo gavi #lamine yamal #pedri gonzalez #fermin lopez #dani olmo

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iichfilwypj · 2 days ago

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HOLAA! primero que nada, amo tu forma de escribir 😭💗 y segundo, podrías hacer un Percy x reader, que sea como me dio moon and tides coded? Es que siempre me ha parecido romántico que la luna tenga una influencia en la marea

mar y luna | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of selene! reader ღ warnings: none! ღ wc: 579 amé esta idea!! me basé un poco en un mito que encontré, 'luna y mar' porque siento que muestra bien la dinámica! espero que te guste hermosa! <3

In the daylight, life was bright and awake.

Just as it should be, right? The sun illuminates everything, demanding movement and action, filling the hours with responsibilities and distractions.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon ascended to claim her throne, something within shifted. Perhaps it’s the solitude, the quiet that falls when the sky grows dark and the stars emerge, waiting to hear our wishes.

Percy, for example, spends his whole day eagerly anticipating that moment.

His friends didn’t get it; his mom definitely didn’t get it, and his dad –well, who knew with him?

But there was something about the night that lit a spark in Percy, something no one could explain.

Okay, fine!

He could explain it.

It was her.

The pull was impossible to resist, trust me. He could feel the invisible thread between them tighten, tugging him towards her from the very start; once he got close enough, there was no escaping.

His humor reflected her presence, his actions seemed so deliberately calculated. His choices and thoughts always seemed to lead back to her.

Basically, his entire life seemed to revolve around her, depended on her.

While the others laughed during the day, he felt trapped, yearning to break free just to get to her.

By night, though, he found her, just as he always did.

“You really can’t stay away, huh?” She teased, her voice as soft as the night itself.

“What can I say?” He shrugged, trying to act cool even as his cheeks warmed.

She laughed, brushing her fingers through his hair, and he crumbled instantly. Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch like he needed it, all pretense forgotten.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured, a chuckle escaping her lips.

“Hmm, you probably should. Or maybe not, I think you’re the one who can’t stay away.”

“What!?" She asked, her tone caught between curiosity and amusement. "How come?”

“I’ve done my research, love.” He drew shapes into her hands, some words and moons marked invisible in her skin.

“Oh, have you?” She asked, swatting his hand lightly.

“Absolutely,” he said, dodging her next playful swat with a laugh, “and the evidence is undeniable.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes as he grinned wider. “Alright, genius, let’s hear this theory of yours.”

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling away from her enough to look at her face.

The moonlight illuminated her beautifully, and he was about to shut the fuck up and kiss her.

“You’re the moon. And the moon,” he leaned in closer, stroking her cheek gently. “is guilty of high tides.”

She stared at him for a moment, trying to hold back her laughter.

“You’re impossible.” Then she gave in, her giggles spilling out as she shoved him back onto the sand. Instantly, he laughed too, grabbing her arms to pull her into him. “You got me, nerd. I can't live without you.”

And it was a silence understatement; it was true, for both of them.

They knew they couldn’t; her mother, the goddess of the moon, had strictly forbidden it. Breaking her rules was tempting fate itself.

But it didn’t matter. They were drawn together, no matter how much the world, or divine mandates, tried to keep them apart.

Something bound them, aching for one another when apart and feeling even more drawn when they were together.

And as Percy held her under the glow of the moonlight, he didn’t even try to imagine staying away.

Because, honestly, he knew he couldn’t.

to me, anyone who says that they don't like the moon is lying. have you seen her? LOOK AT HER!!

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x y/n #fanfic #my writing #percy jackson imagines

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mostly-minecraft-zvahl · 1 day ago

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It had happened in a flash.

Grian had never seen light so violent before. Bursting, bursting, bursting light, as if he were witnessing stars collide. It didn’t fade from his vision, no matter how hard he pressed his eyelids closed.

The sound was so loud that he felt it in his chest. He felt his vocal cords vibrate as he screamed his companions name, but it fell deaf on his own ears. The idiot! What if he’d gotten himself killed!

He started to slide as most of the floor collapsed beneath him.

He couldn’t help but feel as though a black hole had formed inside his stomach and was sucking in all his insides.

The dust started to settle in the air, and he scrambled downwards.

Falling. Falling. Falling, mentally and physically

He paid no mind to the pain in his ankles as he landed on them harshly. He didn’t have time for that, not when…

Grian‘s heart spasmed in his chest, and he ran towards Mumbo, whose body was mostly covered by rubble. His knees felt weak and pain radiated from legs.

“MUMBO! MUMBO, NO! YOU FOOL! Mumbo, no! Oh no,” his guttural scream turned into a whisper. “Mumbo…” his hand caressed his companion’s cheek. It was heated. Heated; not with the warmth of blood and life, but the leftover hotness from the explosion.

Tears, glinting in the sunrise, poured down his dust coated cheeks.

Gone. Gone. No longer on this planet. Further off than Jupiter or Mars.

It felt the same as he’d imagine waking in the night, only to go outside to realize the stars were gone. Never to be seen again, never to light up your world again. No stars, and the dumb, useless piece of rock that was the Moon. The Moon; Skizz.

He would need to find Skizz soon enough, wouldn’t he?

He placed a tender kiss to Mumbo’s forehead, and stepped away. They’d bring his body to the ground and dig a grave for him later. As strong as he was, Grian wouldn’t be able to move the now lifeless husk of his Companion by himself.

He climbed back up to the top of the tower. He was surprised he still had the coordination for a moment, as he looked down upon the ground below, but then dismissed the emotion.

He’d lost so much, over and over again, he didn’t have time to completely fall apart. Even with his closest companion…

He looked up towards the tauntingly idyllic sky, with its feathery clouds and too bright sun.

For a moment, a single blasted moment, he thought saw Mumbo’s face in those stupid fucking clouds.

He had never felt a loss his poignantly before.

What were you supposed to do when you only had one, dim, unlucky, fallen Star to count?

His gaze rested upon the grassy grounds, to keep look out for his fallen Star.

#This is my first time writing for this fandom!#Ik I’m late but give me a break #Og #Grian #Wild Life #Wild life ep 5 #Main character death #Waffle Duo #Grian is mean to Skizz in his internal dialogue

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unknown-person93828 · 2 months ago

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I will now go back to the void, goodbye

#art #Look closely to the sky and the falling star #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #Shadow the hedgehog #Yay I'm not dead #:)

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depresseddepot · 6 months ago

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I haven't finished outer wilds yet but I truly can't believe that this game still surprises me when I'm so close to the end

#I was flying around and then out of fucking nowhere ALL OF THE STARS IN THE SKY WENT BLACK #and all i could see was the sun #and I turned around and there was a fucking SHIP BEHIND ME #WHAT WAS THAT? HUH #ive seen references to most end games things but what the fuck is that !!!!!!#i only saw it for a split second bc I got disoriented and turned around and when I looked back it was gone and all the stars were back #WHATTT was that!#it didn't even look like the nomai ships it was circular and sort of looked like the mask screen when you dir #but more circular like a station almost #BUT WHAT WAS IT AJZJSHGA WHY DID ALL OF THE STARS DISAPPEAR!#this fucking game man #the only thing i had done was land on (redacted) moon and get lost trying to find the white hole so. what the fuck!#also while typing this im waiting for (redacted) to fall out of the white hole station and i got jumpscared by the giants deep #i love this game. i am so stressed and scared #im like pretty close to finishing it i think but i have NEVER seen the sky go black like that. i wish i had taken like a steam video #but idk how LMAO

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 2 months ago

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FIREFLIES NEVER CAME ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your seat is close to the heater. that’s the only reason gojo comes there to warm up.

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, teen!satoru, set in a canon au, mutual pining, fluff, a little bittersweet (melancholic winter vibes <3), introvert/extrovert, reader is antisocial and dense as a brick (black cat vibes :3), also kind of self-deprecating, satoru is very shoujo manga coded, just lots of puppy love!! feat. wingman!suguru <3

a/n; this wasn’t meant to be a fic …… it was gonna be really short and sweet ……… (T_T) anyway i am very fond of this reader/character dynamic so i hope you enjoy reading abt my emotionally stunted kids 🫶 biggest mwah in the world dedicated to professor logan (@staryukis) for teaching me about physics so i could find a loophole in satoru’s infinity :3c all for the sake of lore-accurate (kinda) fluff <3

”what are you listening to?”

your seat is close to the heater.

it was nothing but a lucky draw, really. yaga-sensei was organizing the desks when you transferred, and so he gave you the first choice; one you had no trouble making, latching on to the chair in the very back, right by the window, right by the sole heater of the room. vital for surviving your chilly winter classes.

so there you sit. a warmth sneaks through your fuzzy socks, tends to your restless legs. your feet tap and tap, on the cold floorboards, in rhythm with your never-ending thoughts, spinning like a planet in orbit.

through the fogged-up, frosted glass of the window to your left, you observe the world. headphones covering your ears, safe and snug, muffling all noise. you watch as snow falls, wholly entranced, eyes stuck on the icy snowflakes descending from the wool-gray sky — blanketing the frostbitten landscape of the courtyard. it’s pretty, all those skeletal trees, glittering and gleaming like they have something to say. sometimes they look like stars.

”… hey. did you hear me?”

gojo is being particularly chatty, today.

out of the corner of your eye, you see him wave his hand right in front of your face. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s rude; he must be used to all eyes being on him, from the moment he speaks.

with a flutter of your lashes, you lift your weary head. meeting his gaze, the blurry shine of your own visage, reflected in his circle-frame glasses. a soft tilt of his head, and then his lips are twitching upwards, just barely, snowy strands gliding across his forehead and falling over his face. like an excited puppy.

”what are you listening to?”

you read the words off his lips, all sound muffled by your headphones. quick to lift one of your hands, pulling one one of the heavy ear cushions away — letting all white noise in the room flood your senses. the snarls of the wind outside, ieiri’s laughter, the scribbling of geto’s pen against paper.

it’s overwhelming, but a small price to pay. his voice is softer than usual, during moments like these; there’s a pleasant lull to it.

gojo tips his head to the right, still awaiting your response. all you can do is stare, watching your own reflection, fingers gripping onto the edge of your desk. as if seeking to ground yourself.

with a spoonful of hesitance, you part your lips.

”… do you like music?”

the words seep out into the air, a softly exhaled breath. gojo watches you, silently, for just a moment.

then he gives you a shrug.

”i guess?” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to another — hand slipping into the pocket of his uniform. ”that’s more suguru’s thing.”

ah.

your mouth forms around the syllable, as if responding, but not making any sound. gaze fleeing from his glasses, crumbling under their weight, straying towards the frosted window to your left. safe, familiar, rotting trees and twitching branches. snow just as pure as the boy in front of you.

silence overtakes you both, once more.

”... not gonna answer?” he asks, with another tilt of his head, absently rocking side to side as he lets out an exhale. ”is it a secret, or something?”

(it is, you think. but you can’t say it out loud.)

before you can part your lips again, the classroom door slides open — and you know it’s yaga-sensei just by the way his feet hit the floorboards, the decisive weight behind every step. you know even before he’s telling you to get back to your seats.

on cue, gojo stands up straighter, shooting you another glance. bright-eyed, easy-going, every star in the sky leaping out from the glimpse you get of his eyes when he angles his body. two blue pools, flecked with white, like frozen puddles in the street.

and then he’s strolling away.

gojo leaves, and you take off your headphones; stretching your legs underneath the desk. reaching for your ballpoint pencil, flipping open your textbook, and indulging in sleepy blinks, as yaga begins to drone on and on. you stifle a yawn with the sleeve of your blazer, resting your jaw on the heel of your palm. eyes inevitably straying towards a head of white hair.

but your name is called before you can get lost in your daydreams.

”page 27, from the top.”

your chair scrapes against the floorboards, as you sluggishly stand up. holding onto your textbook, flipping the pages until you land on the correct passage. with shaky hands, not enough to notice, you read out loud; voice controlled, almost monotone. all you can think is that you feel his frost-clad eyes on you, from the row straight ahead.

but you continue to speak. you speak until you reach the end of the page, until you’re allowed to take your seat again, happy to feel the warmth of the heater radiate against your legs. it’s this warmth that’s important, the most important thing of all.

without it, gojo wouldn’t bother to stop by your desk.

nearly every recess, as soon as yaga leaves the classroom, he’s waltzing over — leaning against the wall, stretching his arms out, purring contentedly as heat spreads throughout his body. you think he must run cold. chatting with you, just to pass the time, just until your teacher comes back. just to warm up.

then he’s leaving, again.

that’s all it is. a cold boy, and a heater by your desk — a conversation that otherwise wouldn’t have occured. even the strongest is vulnerable to changes in temperature, you suppose.

if warmth is all that binds him to you, it’s bound to dwindle away.

(you’re sure he’ll stop as soon as spring comes.)

the next day, gojo is nowhere to be seen. you saw yaga-sensei drag him out of the classroom this morning; something about a clan meeting, something you weren’t paying attention to.

but now you wish you had.

(it’s quiet, without him around. eerily so.)

with nothing to lose, and nothing else to do — you push your chair away from your desk, and walk up to your classmate, a question on your mind.

”… music? are you looking for recommendations?”

you nod.

geto blinks. caught off guard, you’re sure, surprised that you’d approach him without any prior coaxing. he’s usually the one striking up a conversation with you, like a responsible class president, making sure the weird kid doesn’t feel left out. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s patronizing.

”hmm... well, that depends.” he gives you a smile, soft around the edges. it never feels as genuine as gojo’s, but it’s calming. ”what kind of music do you usually listen to?”

…

you glance down at the floor. bundling up the cuffs of your uniform, fingers clawing softly at the fabric, bottom lip trapped between two sets of teeth.

”… what kind of music does gojo like?”

silence. your words are barely spoken, just above a whisper, just like always, but geto picks up on them anyway. you can tell he does, can feel the weight of his keen eyes on your face. analytical.

then he parts his lips.

”… ohhh.” a low hum, ripe with meaning, buzzing at the bottom of his throat. the corners of his lips quirk up into a knowing smile. ”i see.”

heat rushes to your cheeks, blossoms under your skin. if he notices, he’s even more composed than you thought he was, because he doesn’t mention it. only continues to speak, in that soothing voice, crossing his arms in silent thought.

”hmm…” you follow his gaze, out towards the window, the same webs of frost as always. it’s not snowing, but you still can’t see the blue of the sky. ”i’ve never seen him listen to music before, so i wouldn’t know.”

you can’t help but deflate, at that.

geto only smiles. exhaling, through his nose, mildly humoured — though he’s good at hiding his amusement. ”… what do you think that means?”

a blink. your lashes flutter, as you gaze up at him.

”… huh?”

”satoru doesn’t listen to music, but he wants to know what you’re listening to.” he says the words almost coachingly, like he’s listing off a string of numbers. you realize he must have been listening in on your conversation, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as his tone. ”what do you think that means?”

…

(you haven’t got a clue.)

geto lets out a chuckle, laced with mirth, no longer trying to hide it. paired with a soft shake of his head, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes. ”why do you want to know about his taste in music, then?”

(… that’s a good question.)

he seems to notice your hesitance, your apprehension, the way your teeth seek to trap your bottom lip; always the victim of your muddled mind. you know the answer, of course you do — but it isn’t something you want others knowing.

thankfully, geto breaks the silence for you.

”i don’t think you need to try so hard, when it comes to him.” his voice is soft, almost sincere, something warmer than usual. glancing away when you meet his eyes. ”… he isn’t worth the effort, anyway.”

but that’s where he’s wrong.

satoru gojo is a special case. a special person. in the orbit of your life, there’s no star you’d rather keep — no one quite as ripe with colour.

geto couldn’t possibly understand, because gojo is always with him — always orbiting around him. he always will, until you graduate, probably even beyond that. geto has him. they’re the strongest, a pair, always matching their steps to one another. but you only have these quiet days, these chilly classes in between never-ending missions — and that’s all.

when the frost outside the window thaws, gojo will surely stop visiting your desk. your lonely little world.

that’s exactly why — you need to find a song. if you just teach him about something wonderful enough, if you can give him something other than warmth…

(… maybe he’ll stay with you even after spring comes.)

”next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”

geto’s suggestion breaks you out of your thoughts. when you raise your head, to meet the warm pools of amber in his eyes, he gives you a smile. there’s nothing patronizing about the way he’s looking at you now — if anything, you think it may even be slightly fond, but you can never tell what he’s actually feeling. he’s frightening, like that, always a mirror to whatever situation he finds himself in. a chameleon, tilting his head at you.

… though you can’t help but fall victim to the kindness in his eyes. the velveteen purr of his voice.

”i’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

a nervous pit opens up in your chest, an empty space that gnaws incessantly at your heart. will he?, you want to ask, but it feels like the words are made out of lead. you can’t get them out of your throat.

”… okay,” is all you end up whispering, a soft lull of your tongue. ”i’ll try… thank you.”

geto rewards you with a full smile.

”don’t mention it.”

spring is closer than you thought.

it’s all you can think, when you step onto the pavement, when you feel the morning air gnaw at your frostbitten cheeks. it’s freezing, it’s winter, but the signs of changing seasons are still there — a lonesome snowdrop, the crackle of an icy puddle beneath your feet. the frost is beginning to thaw.

in a month or so, spring will be here — there’s no stopping it.

”did you bring your card?”

your headphones rest around your neck, allowing you to listen in on your classmates' conversation. all four of you are together, for once, all first-years, walking towards the nearest konbini — at gojo’s insistence.

it’s been a week since you had that talk with geto, but you still haven’t made any progress with him.

”huh? was i supposed to?”

”… are you kidding me?”

you glance up at the pair. always walking just a little bit ahead, their tall statures obscuring the view in front of you; shoko lags behind, with lazy steps, a trail of tobacco drifting out into the crispy air. all while snowflakes fall from the sky, gently, landing in your hair, on your shoulders, melting on the inside of your palm when you hold it out to catch them. watching as they turn into droplets of water, slip through the gaps between your fingers.

someone taps your shoulder.

geto has snowflakes stuck in his hair. they’re melting, in the strands of ink-black framing his face, matching the colour of the thick polo jacket he’s wearing. a bright red scarf is tied around his throat, and there’s a weighty look in his eyes — something telling.

a silent cue.

he falls back, slowly but surely, into ieiri’s lazy pace. not before murmuring something unintelligible to gojo, and shooting you a wink — one that makes you frown, confused, a low heat blooming at the base of your spine and crawling up your neck.

and then you realize what he’s done.

gojo is looking right at you, through the black glass of his specs. only wearing a baseball jacket, no gloves or scarves to keep him warm, despite the harsh bite of the open air. for a guy who runs cold, he must not put much thought into his clothing.

more importantly…

it’s just the two of you, now.

you blink at him, silent as a mouse. it only takes a moment for him to start moving, for you to follow, taking your place beside him while staring right ahead. if he’s bothered by geto slinking away, he doesn’t show it — only continues to walk.

”… that’s so unfair.”

gojo’s voice breaks the silence. you turn your head to gaze at him, the way his lips wrap around the vowels, haphazardly hanging onto every word he speaks.

”just ’cause i have clan money,” he kicks at a pebble on the side of the road, wisps of white hair swaying with a shake of his head, ”suguru thinks i should pay for our snacks. isn’t that unfair?”

you hesitate. then you nod along, absently.

he seems to take that as a yes, because it makes him brighten — as if gleaming with your approval, standing a little straighter, puffing out his chest with an exhale that turns into white smoke.

”right? they only give it to me because they want me to come back to kyoto, anyway…” he trails off, holding the tip of his tongue between his lips. ”… not that it matters. anyway, i just think he’s oppressive.”

”… mm.”

from this angle, you can see a sliver of his eyes. can see the way he steals a glance at you, without even turning his head — hands slipping into his pockets. there’s a moment of silence, until he’s parting his lips again.

”… i can buy some for you, though.”

(you barely pick up on the words, spoken almost in a whisper — as if an afterthought.)

he clears his throat.

”… if you don’t have the money, i mean.”

you can’t help but blink, at that — lashes fluttering in rapid succession, wondering if you heard him correctly. he doesn’t seem keen on elaborating, though. walking on, ignoring all snowflakes descending from the sky, eager to nuzzle in between his locks. his infinity keeps them out.

”… why?”

it’s all you can say. all you can verbalize.

(in a story like this, why would the brightest star of all orbit around someone like you?)

gojo gives you another glance. his iris cuts into your skin, observes you on what you’re sure must be a molecular level. he lets silence linger, for a moment, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.

gray, and more gray. flecks of white. you’d see the same thing he does.

”hmm…” he lets out a breath, head falling forward again, snowy strands ghosting against the skin of his forehead. ”let’s call it a trade.”

another series of blinks.

gojo turns towards you, then — a fresh grin blooming on his lips. white teeth, pink gums. it makes him look boyish, innocent, just another city boy with too much time on his hands.

”i buy you snacks — and you tell me what music you’re always listening to.” he bends his body forward, tilts his head at the same time, all lanky and charming, like a big cat. ”deal?”

you stay silent.

he’s looking at your headphones, still left neglected around your neck. your gaze falls down to the icy concrete, the thin layer of frost, waiting to be melted by the first sunrays of spring. whenever that will be.

geto and shoko are still behind you — you can hear their low, muffled chatter, smell the remnants of tobacco in the air. and you swear you can practically hear geto’s words, echoing through your head.

(why do you think that is?)

gojo is still looking at you. expectantly, lips curled up into a lazy smile. he’s waiting, you know he is, and you also know he isn’t very good at that. you know a lot of things — what you don’t know is what to say. you don’t know if you can believe in whatever geto was insinuating, don’t know if you can grapple with your own longing to do so.

(next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?)

geto doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know what your feelings towards gojo truly look like. doesn’t know that what’s on your mind when he’s around is always something horrifically embarrassing. something like, i want to know more about you, or maybe i wish i could tell you more about me. something awfully cheesy, like — i’m jealous of how bright you shine, but i can’t help but like you anyway.

if i become your friend, would it be okay to say i understand your loneliness? that i notice it, even just by a fraction?

would that be okay with you?

(words that should be left unspoken.)

”… well, it’s not like you have to.” gojo exhales, again, the words a heavy weight seeping past his throat. his shoulders slump, as he turns forward, fingers trailing up to scratch at the back of his neck.

all you can think is that he’s getting ready to leave. that nothing will change, at this rate, that spring will wash winter away. that geto should be more direct with his advice, and that if it’s not the music itself that gojo is interested in knowing more about, then surely —

” — i don’t listen to anything.”

gojo stills. the words have flown past your lips before you can reach out and grasp them, slicing through the open air.

he spins around, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose at the sudden motion, exposing his widened eyes. those white lashes, fluttering softly, like a pair of doves eager to get above ground. you grip onto the insides of your pockets, warm and cozy against your freezing hands — it grounds you, keeps you tethered down to earth, down to him.

”music,” you continue, sputtering slightly, as if your lungs don’t quite know how to work under pressure. winter air seeps into your windpipe, cuts the skin there. ”i don’t listen to music.”

you lift your hands, fingers curling around the soft earmuffs wrapped around your neck, hesitantly meeting gojo’s gaze — an overlapping sequence, blanketing his view. then you’re gazing down.

”it’s just… comforting,” you try to explain, speaking softly. ”to wear them. white noise.. tires me out, so…”

the sentence trails off, unfinished. you feel silly. silly for saying anything at all, for building it up so much. silly for being the way that you are.

but when you look up at gojo, he’s brightened like a star.

white teeth, pink gums, that breathtakingly boyish grin. his blue eyes gleam with colour, almost spilling over the corners, like watercolour paint on a too-small canvas. he tilts his head, looking at you carefully, as if truly seeing you for the first time; absently swaying side to side.

if he had a tail, you’re sure it’d be wagging.

”i see!”

a silent breath spills into the air. your lips part, but no sound comes out, only vapour; heart pumping blood through your writhing veins, warming you up from the inside, a co-conspirator to the heat blooming in your cheeks. gojo continues to speak.

”i guess that counts,” he nods, crossing his arms with a satisfied hum. ”alright. i’ll get you any snacks you want! you can be greedy, it’s okay.”

a murmur of thanks escapes you, although you’d like to tell him there’s no need. something tells you denying him this would be like taking another step backwards, in this budding connection between you.

(… if you can even call it that.)

geto and ieiri catch up to your unmoving figures, finally, and only then does gojo spin on his heel and pick up his previous pace. calling back to you over his shoulder, a smile you can’t see but still hear.

”just don’t give any of it to those two, yeah?”

”cheapskate,” ieiri calls back, lone cigarette hanging between her lips. geto lets out something like a chuckle, his shoulder brushing up against yours.

you watch gojo’s back as he moves forward. unbothered, untethered. you think of him a snowflake in the breeze.

spring is almost here, now. it’s a bittersweet feeling, to know your conversations during recess will surely dwindle out — but at least you’ll have had this. one normal conversation, the knowledge that he was curious about you, even if you may just be the classmate by the heater in his eyes.

you’re too cold to keep him warm all on your own, so there’s no helping it. you’re willing to accept that some stars only show from the surface during winter.

you’re willing to accept this. it aches, a little, but you’ll be okay.

”i’ll take it things went well, then?”

geto is wearing his signature smile, when you look up at him. an expression of carefully concealed composure, lips curled up, but a knowing look in his eyes — something that borders on teasing.

you give him a nod, a bow of your head, to silently convey your appreciation. chameleon or not, you don’t really mind his ways. it’s hard to fake the warmth in his voice, when he speaks.

”i’m glad.”

the two of you watch gojo’s back, like birds gazing out at a body of water. silence lingers.

”won’t that moron get cold?”

ieiri’s voice cuts through the mold of your mind, low and gravelly, right beside you. she’s pointing towards gojo — the flimsy jacket he’s wearing.

you’re wondering the same thing.

geto casts her a glance over your head, before gazing down at you, seemingly noticing your curiosity. he lets out a low hum; reaching a hand out to brush away the snowflakes on his shoulders.

”temperature,” he begins, slipping his hands into his pockets; that familiar coaching tone to his voice, purposefully slow. ”is just a measure of atoms in rapid motion.”

you tilt your head, in tandem with ieiri — looking to your classmate for further elaboration. he seems to enjoy your confusion, lips curling up just a bit. gojo calls out to you, in the distance, waving both his hands, and geto returns it with a wave of his own.

an amber eye flicks towards you, an explanation on his tongue. ”his infinity can regulate that motion.”

… another tilt of your head.

geto lets out an amused breath. it scatters out into the air, a cloud of smoke, almost a chuckle.

”basically…” he sighs. ”he does just fine, in the cold. don’t worry about it. he’ll keep himself warm.”

ieiri mutters something, beneath her breath, something like you could have just said no, but you don’t really hear it. you think your heart must have climbed up, somehow; got caught in your windpipe.

ah.

gojo can keep himself warm.

the thought spins inside your mind, over and over, a realization that makes your inner palms feel clammy. stupid, silly, this pitter-patter of your heartbeat. but what else could it mean? if the cold doesn’t bother him, if he doesn’t run cold, then…

(he wouldn’t need it. he wouldn’t need it here, wouldn’t need it during recess, within the chilly walls of your classroom. he wouldn’t need it to stay warm.

gojo isn’t after your heater. if that’s true, then…)

…

you bury your nose in the soft wool of your scarf. breathing in the fading scent, vanilla and cinnamon, grounding you to earth, lingering in your nostrils. distracting you from the rush of warmth, that blooms in the frostbitten apples of your cheeks.

as if sensing your thoughts, or maybe just noticing your embarrassed expression, geto laughs — soft and breathy, shoulders shaking to your left. you hear it, only nuzzling deeper into the comfort of your scarf. feeling your heartbeat spin out of orbit.

in the distance, gojo continues to wave, yelling out something unintelligible. you could mistake him for a star.

spring is almost here, now. in just a month or so, it’ll be at your doorstep — waltzing right in.

(but you aren’t worried.)

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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webism · 2 months ago

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‎ ‎ �� ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !

After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.

pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two

cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.

The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you.

That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better.

“Cold feet?” You ask.

His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.

“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."

Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."

Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin. Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.

Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.

Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.

And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.

Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again.

The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day.

“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway.

“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months.

Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”

You smile. “Mhm, talk.”

“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you.

You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments.

Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you��re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing?

You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end.

“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”

You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”

Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised.

“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask.

“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”

He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—

The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo.

His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both. His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.

“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."

It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in.

“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.

You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.

The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."

You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?"

Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."

Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."

Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."

Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside.

"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."

You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.

The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.

"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips.

There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it.

This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.

So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.

“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”

You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"

You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.

It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.

And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.

You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”

“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"

"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"

Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."

“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you.

Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”

A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.

He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.

Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless.

Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.

He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."

You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is."

Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.

For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.

And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.

Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"

This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."

"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."

His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin.

Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.

“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”

“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”

Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”

His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.

Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you.

Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe.

Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.

You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.

Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.

"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.

Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock.

You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault. He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours.

"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."

You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.

"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”

He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.

You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers.

“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum.

Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently.

“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”

You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”

“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”

Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”

Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers.

A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?

Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember.

“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”

As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.

Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going.

"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone.

Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."

And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.

"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."

Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.

It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.

Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.

"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.

Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn.

"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."

And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him.

A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you.

This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless.

And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.

"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours.

"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"

"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."

You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.

His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.

"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life.

You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear.

You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next.

Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.

And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.

“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”

Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”

You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.

“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”

You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed.

“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.

TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine

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iisasxia · 2 months ago

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“Mm you’re home” you nuzzled yourself closer to him as he sat on the bed, his weight shifting your body to fall against him.

“Hey.. im sorry I came so late, didn’t think they’d need me for that long.” his voice was soft, his hand coming to gently stroke your cheek as you reached for his hand.

“Let me shower first and then we-“ but before he could get up you huffed in response, all he could do was sigh and look at the pout that sat on your face as you laid with your hands open.

He hesitantly placed his left hand in between yours, the size difference almost funny. His hands were so rough, beaten up too, and covered in scars that you always kissed.

You cupped his hand with your smaller ones and brought it close to you, slowly closing your eyes and just admiring his presence.

He couldn’t help but smile at you before looking over at the window, a display of stars that filled the sky and late city lights still shining and streets occupied with people.

—

“Im proud of you.”

The words caught him off guard, he didn’t look at you, for some reason he couldn’t, his eyes still stuck on the stars.

“You’re a great hero kats and an even greater boyfriend. You always do your best to balance everything out and I see that. I see you.”

You begin tracing a small heart in his palm and he can’t help but shudder at the sensation.

“I love you.” and you held his hand a little tighter this time as you brought it back to your face once more.

There was a moment of silence and that’s when he realized why he recently enjoyed looking at the stars.

Because each one reminded him of you, the reasons he loved you, cared for you, wanted you.. needed you.

This time he turned to look at you, but your eyes were closed, already back to sleep.

—

“I love you too.”

(I love soft katsuki, he loves you so much, and he really does his best to remind you all the time. You’ll always be his favorite star.)

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lnfours · 16 days ago

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close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

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