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evanpeterswhoresblog · 10 months ago

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Innocence

Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hand job, virgin reader, purity ring 😮‍💨, making out, underage smoking, mention of underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any!

summary: remus learns the ring you wear everyday is called a purity ring, and he develops a strange obsession with it… and wanting to take it off you…

word count: 4.6k

a/n: guys.. dw there’s gonna b a part two but like omgggggg this made me feel so many things i’m in love with this. lmk what you think :) also i’m not religious so if any of this is not accurate i’m sorry lol it’s for the plot

part two is posted!!! here

~~~

Ever since he knew you, Remus noticed that one thing you always wore. It was plain, a simple gold band on your left ring finger, the marriage finger. Typically, such nonsense wouldn’t cross his mind twice, but you wore that ring damn ring every day. Since the first time he ever saw you, that ring was on your finger. He never saw you without it. So, his curiosity got the better of him.

Why would such a simple ring be so important that you never took it off? It couldn’t have been because you were married. No. You wore it even at the young age of eleven. Could it have been a family heirloom? That idea was plausible, however to him, it didn’t feel like the correct answer. And Remus Lupin always needed the correct answer.

So, he eventually decided to ask you.

During dinner one night, when you just so happened to be sitting next to him, his eyes caught sight of the ring and he eyed it suspiciously. You noticed this.

“Something wrong Rem?” You asked.

He looked up from the ring on your delicate finger to meet your confused eyes. “Why do you always wear that specific ring? And always on that finger? Is it special?”

“Oh.” You laughed for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s stupid really, an old muggle tradition.” You composed yourself and looked up at him, a slight red tint to your cheeks. “It’s called a purity ring. Basically, I wear it as a reminder that I pledged to wait till marriage.”

Remus was confused, and he hated being confused. “Why would anyone wait till marriage?”

You shrugged. “Muggle religion is quite weird. They value keeping teenagers pure until they’re married. I think it’s stupid, but I still wear it.”

“So, you’ve done it but continue wearing it as a... symbol?” He questioned.

“Oh no, I haven’t done it. I might find it stupid, but I still plan to keep my promise. It’s sort of a nice accomplishment don’t you think? I’ve gone through two years of everyone shagging around me and I haven’t given in,” you answered.

He stared at you for a few seconds. You were still a virgin, and that ring was the reason. He thought for a moment. How could you be a virgin? He swore he had seen you go off with a bloke from Ravenclaw a few months ago during a party. But then as his eyes trailed over your small figure, he realized the idea wasn’t completely impossible. He’d never seen you with hickeys, he’d never seen you dress improperly, and he surely had never seen you enter the common room after a long night with someone. For some reason, it made a strange feeling bloom deep inside him.

“Surely you’ve at least done other stuff, right?”

You simply shook your head and took a bite from your sandwich. “Furthest I’ve ever gone is having some Ravenclaws tongue down my throat.”

Ah, so he was right about that.

“Besides, I don’t really even know much about any of that stuff. I mean I know biology, but that’s about it. And of course, what Marls and Mary tell me from their extravagant experiences,” you added after swallowing.

So that meant...

“You haven’t done anything?” He was surprised, it was clear in his tone.

“No need to sound so flabbergasted. Besides, why do you even care about what I’ve done? I always thought you were the modest type too,” you replied with an eye roll.

Remus looked away from you, and the urge to smirk took him over. He thought back to those countless nights over the summer breaks he’d spent with muggle girls. The feelings, the sounds, the tastes, all experiences he’d never forget. But by no means was Remus Lupin a player, oh no. He was nothing like his mate. However, he also wasn’t a saint like everyone painted him out to be.

“I may be modest but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” he said after a moment, his eyes finally turned back to you. He liked the way you looked at him. “That went away a few summers ago.”

You smiled, though something about it was off, almost as if it were forced. “Well, cheers to that.”

“Cheers.” He nodded in agreement.

You turned back to the group conversation before he could say anything else.

~~~

Remus had thought after finding out what the ring's importance was, he would let it go and move on. Unfortunately, he had thought wrong. Ever since that conversation with you, he couldn’t get any of it off his mind. When he’d see you, he’d always look at your left hand, almost making sure that ring was still there. It always was. And for some reason it made him feel almost relieved. He needed more answers.

Thankfully, another opportunity came not too long after the first.

The two of you had been paired together in potions. Typically, he would be a bit upset with the fact given you were never the best in the subject. But for the first time, he was pleased with the pairing.

He watched as you cut up some of the ingredients, that stupid ring shining from the lights. Questions filled his head. Where had you gotten it? When did you get it? Who gave it to you? Did your parents know what it meant? What were you supposed to do with it when the time finally came? He needed to get the answers.

“So, when did you get it?” He casually asked his eyes on the cauldron.

“Get what?”

“The ring.”

You chuckled. “You’re still on about that? I suppose you aren’t too accustomed to muggle things. I got it right before I came here actually. My parents wanted to give me a reminder about life at home, and they wanted to make sure I knew where my ‘loyalties’ lay. Though, I was only a little girl. Did they expect anything to happen at that young?”

Three questions were answered. Good.

Remus dropped his chopped ingredients into the cauldron. “Does that mean you give it back to them when you finally do it?”

“Oh no. I give it to my husband of course,” you replied. “Do these look alright?”

He finally turned his head in your direction and looked over your cutting board then he met your eyes. “Perfect. You can put them in.”

“You don’t know how good that makes me feel to hear. Master of potions Remus Lupin says I’m perfect, I could faint,” you said as you scrapped your work into the cauldron, a hint of laughter in your voice.

He rolled his eyes. “I said your cutting was perfect, but if it makes you feel good, I suppose you are too.”

You looked up at him with a glint in your eyes that made an odd feeling form in his chest. You looked so damn innocent. How had he not noticed it before? You had always been one of the shyer members of Gryffindor, but he always brushed it off as nothing important. He never would’ve guessed just how innocent you were.

“How sweet of you.” You giggled.

“ ’Course, anytime love.”

He noticed the shift in your body at his words. How odd. You looked away from him for a few seconds, that familiar rose tint returning to your cheeks. Did you always do that? Did such simple words always make you blush and turn away? Or was it just him? He watched you bite down on your lip and fiddle with your ring.

You were teasing him.

It was then he decided he was going to get that ring from you.

And you were going to love it.

~~~

Getting you to that point was going to take some time, Remus knew that. But it didn’t stop him. He started simply. When the two of you were hanging out in the group, he made sure to at least say a few words to you alone. When eating meals, he made sure to get a spot next to you. Most importantly though, he started making sure to leave subtle hints. Lingering eye contact, small touches that weren’t necessary, comments that made your face turn red. He could tell all of it made you flustered, and he loved it.

During all of it, his obsession with your innocence only grew. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to taint you, to make you not so pure anymore. He didn’t understand the feeling, he never cared much for such stereotypical nonsense. But each time you looked at him with those curious, innocent eyes, it only made his patience strained.

The first breakthrough came during one of Sirius and James’s parties. The common room blared with music, and people laughed and danced. You were among them. Remus leaned against the wall next to the staircase to the boy's dorm, a cigarette between his lips as he watched you dance with Mary and Lily. Your smile was bright, your body moved to the rhythm almost perfectly. You wore a pretty little dress. But he couldn’t focus on any of that because that damn ring caught his attention.

It had become quite a distraction. He found himself staring at it far more than normal. During class and dinner, it consumed most of his thoughts. He needed to get it off your finger before it caused his grades to slip.

From across the room, your eyes suddenly found his. You gave him a questioning look; he only smirked back and released a cloud of smoke into the air. He watched you say something to the girls before you began to walk in his direction. Perfect.

“Why do you always stand on the sidelines?” You asked once you were close enough. “And if you’re going to stare at me all night you might as well just dance with me.”

He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. “I’m not the biggest fan of these parties and I definitely don’t dance.” He offered you the cigarette, and you shook your head and pointed to your ring. “Come on, that applies to cigs too?”

“And alcohol, pretty much whatever is considered sinful. Though, I have indulged in a drink or two. Mommy and Daddy don’t need to know about that,” you answered.

Merlin, he needed to do something with you. It was almost unbearable.

“You’re saying alcohol and cigs are sinful but intense snogging isn’t? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” he eventually said.

You smiled and shrugged. “That’s muggle religion for you. It’s pretty much up to each person's interpretation and what they value. I value being sober more than refraining from a snog occasionally.”

“But a shag...”

“That’s universally seen as a big sin. Most of us would agree not to do it until marriage.”

He released another breath of smoke. “Most of you?”

“Well, not everyone agrees of course. Like I said, it’s technically up to everyone’s values. Murder is also considered a sin, you know. But even some people commit that,” you explained. He watched you blush. “I don’t think I should compare virginity to murder though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” he replied, his lips turned up into a smile.

You turned even more red. “Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, right?”

“Everything is optional is what you’re saying.” He let his eyes trail over your body, making sure you noticed. “So really, you could fuck someone before marriage.”

“I mean yeah, I could, but I don’t think I will,” you said. You began to fiddle with the ring again. “It’s sort of always been with me it would feel weird giving it to someone else.”

“Do you have to give it away for anything? Or just actual sex?” It was another question he’d been dying to know. He watched you think for a moment.

“I think just the full thing. I don’t know. I don’t even really know that much about it like I said when you first asked me. I mean, I know people use their hands and mouths but... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about such things.” You put your face in your hands, Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.”

He needed to do something. Now.

“Don’t be sorry love, it’s alright. You know you can trust me; I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about your sinful thoughts,” he spoke. He turned and dropped his cigarette into one of the many ashtrays in the common room. When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him. “But you know if you ever wanted to indulge in something like that, you can come to me.”

You were beyond flustered, and it showed. “Oh! That’s very um... generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll do any of that I mean... I don’t plan on it.”

He casually shrugged. “We all get a bit curious at some point in our lives.”

For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He could tell exactly what you were thinking. You were curious. You wanted to try things. He observed you carefully. He could sense the conflict within you. Value versus desire. It was a tough battle, but you didn’t cave. At least, not yet.

“Perhaps, but I made a promise and I need to stick to it,” you said. You looked over your shoulder at your clearly intoxicated friends. “I should get back to Lily and Mary.”

“Right, it was nice talking,” he replied with a smile.

You nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Till then love.”

Even as you walked away and joined your friends once again, he could see the way his words affected you. You could deny the feelings all you wanted, but your body craved the unknown. It was only a matter of time till you caved, and Remus would wait.

He was never one to give up easily.

~~~

You came to him faster than he expected. He understood why though, you were on edge about all of it. In the few days it took for you to go to him, he noticed how different you acted. You were more tense, you fiddled with your ring far more than normal. He imagined the inner conflict you faced was stressful, but he was glad about the turnout of it.

After dinner, as he was walking to the library for a study group, you found him. He was a bit surprised at your approach, but nevertheless, he welcomed it with joy.

“Hey Remus, could I talk to you for a second?” You asked.

You were a bit behind him, but he stopped instantly and turned to face you.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

Your little bit of confidence quickly vanished. You avoided his gaze, focusing suddenly on your shoes. “Um, are you busy? It’s not really that important so if you have something else to do it can wait.”

He fought the urge to smirk. “I was just going to Lily’s little study group, but it can wait. Is something wrong?”

You shook your head and looked up at him, those big innocent eyes staring into his. “No uh... nothing's wrong. It’s just about... well... you know.”

“About what?”

“You know...”

“I don’t think I do love, you’re gonna have to use your words and tell me.”

He felt bad for teasing you, but it was too fun not to. The way your cute little eyes looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was around, the way you fidgeted, it was far too entertaining to stop. A moment passed before you finally spoke in a much softer tone than before.

“It’s about what we talked about at the party last weekend.”

“Oh?” He questioned. “What about it?”

He watched as you slid the ring up and down your finger. “You said um if I ever wanted to you know, indulge, that I could come to you.”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“So... um yeah,” you said. You looked almost uncomfortable. He knew he needed to be nicer.

“Are you asking if that offer is still there?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I mean, um, is it?”

He glanced around to make sure nobody else was around before stepping closer to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your mouth parted ever so slightly. He touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your head gently.

“How about you come find out?”

You didn’t fight it. He was glad.

Not too long after that, Remus found himself in a position he’d desperately wanted for almost a month. You were laid out on his bed, open like a flower, and he was on top of you. Your robe, shirt, and tie were thrown to the floor. He kissed you hard, the reward of your gasps kept him going. He let one of his hands travel up your soft thigh, you were so warm, so inviting. It took all his self-control to keep him from moving too fast.

Before it began, you told him you had only ever snogged. That meant no boy had ever touched you. Not with a hand, not with his tongue, nothing. No one had ever even felt up your breasts. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased with the information. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be as many of your firsts as he could be.

“Can I touch you?” He eventually whispered on your skin; his lips were by your ear.

“Yes, please,” you replied, your breath ragged.

He continued to press soft kisses to your neck as his hand moved between your thighs. You were wet, very wet. He could feel it through your panties. It made him even harder than he already was. He slid his hand under your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit, you gasped and lifted your hips in response.

You were perfect.

With every flick of his fingers, you let out little whimpers and moans, and one of your hands gripped his shoulder hard. He caught a few glances of your face between kisses. Your cheeks were red, your eyes squeezed shut. You were beyond beautiful.

After a few minutes, he moved his fingers down to your entrance. He made sure to collect your wetness and ask if it was alright before he began to slowly push one of his fingers inside you.

“Remus,” you mumbled as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

You lightly shook your head. “It feels so good, do not stop.”

“Do you want another one?”

“Yes.”

He complied instantly and added a second finger. You responded just the way he wanted. In only a few more minutes he was fucking you with his fingers, touching that spot inside that made your thighs clench around him. He kissed you hard, he loved how you struggled to kiss him back. When he also began to press his thumb to your clit, you became a mess.

“Fuck Rem, I-” You paused, your nails dug into his shoulder.

“You’re close.” It was a statement; he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. He knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I am,” you practically whimpered.

“Let go, love, it’s alright.”

Only seconds later you did. You came hard. Your back arched off the mattress, your mouth hung open wide, and your thighs tightened around his hips. Remus had never felt anything as good as the feeling of your walls pulsating around his fingers as you came undone beneath him. He made sure to keep going till you were fully done. At that point, he pulled his hand out of your panties and up to his lips. He knew you were going to taste good.

You sat up, breathless. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just- you just- we just... I’m going to hell.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine. People do this all the time and nothing bad happens, I promise it’s just a normal thing,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he thought you looked so beautiful. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about being judged or anything, I’m worried because I don’t feel guilty. I should feel guilty for it but I just... don’t. In fact, I think I...” You looked down at your hand, specifically the ring. “I think I want more.”

Remus couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “More?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s only right that I return the favor.” He watched your eyes move to his pants; your cheeks turned red. “You’ll have to show me how though.”

“Alright, only if, you’re sure. Don’t feel like you have to because I did something for you,” he replied though he really did want you to touch him. But he could wait if he had to.

“I want to.”

He didn’t question you further. Instead, he guided you through the process of getting him off with your hand. You were a fast learner, though the act itself wasn’t that hard to get the hang of. He found it funny the way you gasped at the size of him. Merlin, you were so innocent. Either way, you made him feel extraordinary. Your hand was much softer than his, and warmer too. You touched him gently, almost teasingly. But that changed fast.

“Can I try something else?” You asked, your hand stopped.

He almost groaned from the lack of motion. “What?”

“Um, can I try using my um...” You pointed to your lips.

“Your mouth?”

“Yeah.”

How could he ever refuse?

It was sloppy, it was rushed, but it was everything he could’ve wanted. As he laid back on the pillows, one of his hands moved through your soft hair. He didn’t dare push you. No. He only stroked your hair gently and whispered praises. He knew you liked it from the way you hummed on his cock each time he told you how good you were doing or how good you made him feel. And when you looked up at him with those eyes, those damn innocent eyes, he could barely contain himself.

He was shocked you even did it to begin with, but he was even more shocked when you let him finish in your mouth. You had him halfway down your throat when he came, and you didn’t pull away for a second. You swallowed it all. Somehow, he became even more attracted to you than he had been before.

“Was it good?” You questioned after you pulled back. You were kneeling beside his legs, a nervous expression on your face.

He smiled. “You were amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done that before?”

“Never even saw one in real life before this,” you replied with a laugh.

“That’s hard to believe,” he said. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Do you want to try one more thing?”

“Depends on what thing.”

“I’ll do what you just did to me but on you,” he answered, loving the way your eyes widened at his words. Despite everything that happened already, you were still so innocent. He adored it.

“Oh yeah okay,” you spoke after a moment.

He kissed you again. “Lay down.”

You did as he said and soon it began.

He started by kissing your lips while his hands pulled your skirt and panties off, leaving you only in a bra. Once those were off, he kissed down your neck, and your chest, only pausing for a second to unclip your bra and take one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned, he stayed there for a few extra seconds. He then moved his mouth further down your body, relishing the sounds you made each time his lips made contact with your skin.

When he started to kiss up one of your thighs, you twitched. You were so sensitive, so untouched. He was obsessed with it. Every few kisses he sucked your skin to leave dark purple hickeys. He had made sure not to leave any on your skin that would be visible to the world so that no one would see the evidence of your sinful acts. But the skin that would be covered by clothing, that was his to mark.

A few minutes of this went by, and it was all on purpose. Remus could tell how eager you were for him to get on with it, but you were far too shy to tell him to do so. So, he didn’t dare touch you where you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted to hear you ask. But you said nothing, so he decided you needed a little push. He gave you one single lick then returned to your black and blue thighs.

“Remus,” you whispered. “Please.”

He looked up at you and almost felt bad. Your desperate eyes were already looking at him, he could tell how much you needed it. He didn’t wait any longer and gave you what you needed; you certainly earned it.

In all his experience with sex and everything surrounding it, Remus enjoyed pleasing his partner as anyone did. He didn’t mind going down on women, in fact, he sort of enjoyed it. At least until you. With you, he quickly realized having his head between your thighs and his tongue on your clit was not just alright, it was heavenly. He never enjoyed the taste of a girl like he enjoyed yours. You were sweet and the sounds you made as he played with you were their own type of reward.

So, it was no surprise how quickly you came undone on his tongue. He devoured you like he had been starving his whole life. Truthfully, he felt as if he had. You were spectacular. You were perfection. You were his. He was crazy about you.

After you finished, he wiped his mouth on one of your thighs before moving to lie on the bed next to you. He laid on his side facing you, his eyes examining your face. Your eyes were closed, and your cheeks were pink. Your hair was messy, and your lips were ever so slightly lifted into a smile. He swore he never saw anyone as beautiful in his life.

“I feel stupid,” you mumbled.

“Why?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile then undeniable. “I should’ve taken you up on your offer sooner. Now I understand why everyone’s so mad about this stuff, it’s unbelievable.”

“You don’t regret it then?” He asked.

“How could I? You’re just... Remus I...” You turned to your side to face him fully, one of your hands pressed against his chest. “I think we should do this again if you’d want to of course.”

He grinned and let a hand fall to your waist, he pulled you closer, so your bodies touched. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you buried your face in his neck. For a moment he felt almost victorious, he had gotten you right where he wanted you to be. It would only be a matter of time before you let him take you fully. But then he realized, it wasn’t about taking your virginity so much anymore. He just wanted you.

“I wouldn’t want anything more,” he eventually said, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while the cold feeling of your ring on his chest lingered in the back of his mind.

Soon, it would be his. And so would you.

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burntsecrets · 2 months ago

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Guilty as Sin

Pairing: Reader x Eddie Munson

Word Count: 1460

Prompt: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift

Summary: As the new girl in town, you’ve been warned to stay away from Eddie Munson, the school freak, but the fantasy of being with him consumes your thoughts until you can't tell what’s real and what isn’t.

Warnings: Intense fantasy and obsession, emotional confusion and guilt, unsolicited warnings and social judgment.

You’ve heard it all before. The whispers, the sideways glances, the unsolicited warnings.

"Eddie Munson? Seriously?" they say, with raised eyebrows and skeptical smirks, as if the very idea of him being more than the school freak is incomprehensible. They don’t know him, not really. They only see what they want to see—wild hair, heavy metal shirts, and those infamous D&D campaigns he holds in the Hellfire Club. To them, he’s the guy who didn’t fit, who refuses to blend into the mundane.

But you... you've seen something different.

It’s a fantasy, isn't it? Or maybe it’s more than that. Either way, you can’t shake the thoughts—the ones that creep into your mind late at night when the world is quiet, and you’re alone with only your imagination to keep you company. That’s when Eddie Munson becomes more than just a distant figure at the back of the classroom. In those moments, he’s yours.

You can see it so clearly, sometimes too clearly. It feels real, almost as if your mind is playing tricks on you. The way he’d hold your hand under the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. The way his voice would drop when he talks to you, low and rough, as if every word is a secret shared just between the two of you. His laughter—God, his laughter—ringing in your ears, free and genuine, breaking through the walls you’ve built around yourself.

You can imagine what they would say if they knew. The judgment, the disbelief. They’ve already told you who Eddie is supposed to be—a troublemaker, a loser, not boyfriend material. But they don’t know him. They don’t know the way his eyes soften when he thinks no one’s looking or how he’s always watching out for the ones who are as out of place as he is. You’ve seen it—those moments where the mask slips and the real Eddie shines through.

Sometimes, you think you’re losing it. The lines blur between what’s real and what’s imagined, and you can’t help but wonder... are these just fantasies, or are they memories? Did you really feel his lips brush against yours one day, soft and hesitant, or was that just another one of your wild daydreams? You remember the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way your heart raced when he whispered your name, but no... that couldn’t have happened. Could it?

It’s all in your mind. You’re drowning in the fantasy of him, and you let yourself sink deeper because reality—without him—is too dull, too empty. You picture him standing in front of you, sending a shiver down your spine as he leans in close, his breath warm against your skin. You’ve never kissed him, not really, but you imagine it every time you close your eyes. Messy top lip kiss. How you long for it, crave it, even though you’ve never felt it for real. But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because in your head, you’ve already done it all.

They don’t understand. The guilt you feel, the way your heart aches every time someone tells you to forget him. But how can you forget someone who’s carved himself so deeply into your thoughts, into your very being? How can you be guilty as sin for something that’s never happened yet feels more real than anything else?

There’s a constant tug-of-war between what you want and what you’re allowed to have. Every day feels like you’re standing at the edge, staring down at the abyss, wondering if you should take that leap. But then you think of him—Eddie—and you know you’d jump, without hesitation, if it meant being with him. Even if it’s just in your mind.

You keep recalling things you never did. The stolen glances across the room, the way he’d smile at you when no one else was watching. The way you feel his hands on your waist, his lips against your ear, even though he’s never touched you. How can you be so sure it hasn’t happened? Because every time you think of him, it feels like you’re slipping, falling back into that fantasy, deeper and deeper until you can’t tell where it ends.

Maybe that’s why it feels so dangerous. You imagine the world finding out, the judgment that would rain down on you. They’d crucify you for loving him, for daring to dream of something different, something real. What if he’s written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind? The thought makes you shiver because it feels true. It feels like something only you know, something sacred, even if it exists only in the corners of your mind.

And yet, you can’t stop. You won’t stop. Even if it’s all make-believe, it’s the only thing that makes sense, the only thing that feels right. You’ve chosen him, Eddie Munson, even if the rest of the world thinks you’re insane. You’ve screamed his name in the dead of night, whispered his secrets into the darkness, and you’ve built a world where it’s just the two of you.

So what if it’s not real? It’s real enough. Without ever touching his skin, you know what it’s like to be his. You’ve built your desires, your longings, into something that feels like a vow, a promise neither of you will ever break. You don’t need to touch him to know what it would be like. You already know.

And then it happens. You’re standing at your locker, spinning the dial absentmindedly, lost in your thoughts of him again. It’s the same fantasy as always—you imagine him walking up to you, leaning against the lockers with that lazy grin that makes your knees weak. You picture him teasing you, something playful in his voice as he inches closer until his lips are just inches from yours. It’s a scene you’ve replayed a hundred times in your head.

This is where it always happens. Where you lose yourself in the daydream, where the fantasy becomes so vivid you almost forget it isn’t real. You can practically feel his presence beside you, smell the faint scent of cigarettes and leather, his warmth cutting through the cold, distant reality of the school hallways.

And then, there’s a voice.

“Hey, new girl,” he says, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart skips, the sensation so real it almost startles you. You blink, forcing yourself to remember that this is just another dream, just another figment of your imagination. You’ve been here before, conjuring him up in the quiet spaces of your mind, letting yourself believe, if only for a moment, that he’s really standing in front of you. But this time, it’s different. There’s something about the way his eyes lock onto yours, intense and knowing. Something about the smirk that curls at the edge of his lips.

It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be.

But when he leans in closer, your breath hitches. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft brush of his lips as he whispers something you can’t quite hear. The world around you blurs, and for a second, you forget what’s real and what isn’t.

And before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Your lips press against his—tentative, soft at first, almost like you’re testing the boundary between reality and fantasy. But he’s warm, solid. You feel the way he kisses you back, his hand brushing against your cheek, pulling you deeper into the moment.

The bell rings, a sharp sound cutting through the haze, and you pull back, breathless. Your heart pounds in your chest, and for a split second, you look into his eyes, waiting for the illusion to shatter, for the fantasy to slip away as it always does.

But he doesn’t fade. He stands there, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face.

“Took you long enough,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that sends another shiver down your spine.

You let out a shaky laugh, stepping back, still half-convinced that the world will snap back into focus and you’ll be standing alone, as you always are. You turn, walking away as your heart continues to race, the kiss still tingling on your lips. You tell yourself it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real.

But then, from across the hall, Eddie watches you go, his smile still lingering on his lips. He touches his mouth like he’s savoring the kiss, shaking his head slightly as if he can’t believe it just happened, either.

And as you disappear into the crowd, the truth lingers in the air—this time, it wasn’t a fantasy.

This time, it was real.

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tragedybunny · 1 year ago

Note

Hey there, saw you were so short requests for Astarion. I'll make it short and simple for ideas. How about either; autistic-coded, plus size or shorter! Tav relationship with Astarion headcanon ideas?

Thanks for the ask. I decided to go with autistic Tav since I actually have an idea for a plus size Tav rolling around my idea doc.

Astarion x Autistic GN!Reader Headcanons

Astarion is so pretty, he intimidates you. You’ve always been an outsider, and the people that put you down the most are always the pretty, perfect, definitely not weird people.

Despite this, you start to find him nice enough, even letting him feed on you.

When Astarion starts flirting with you, you absolutely do not notice, much to his frustration.

When he eventually bluntly asks you for sex, it makes you so sad. Being the town oddball, you’re used to being propositioned as a joke. You quietly turn him down and decide Astarion isn’t your friend after all.

You keep feeding him though when he needs it. Mostly because you’re not sure how to tell him about how it made you feel.

Astarion is stunned you turned him down, sure you haven’t been responsive to his flirting, but you get along well enough. And he’s afraid, you need to be on his side since everyone looks up to you.

He tries to flirt a few more times, but he finds it hurts a little more each time you don’t reciprocate. Even worse, he starts thinking about how nice it would be if you did, even if it was just a smile thrown his way.

It’s so confusing, he stops even feeding from you, worried one night he’ll ask to just stay, to be allowed to even be in your presence for a few hours.

You’re always so quiet and reserved around him, but he starts to notice how there’s certain people you just bloom around. Karlach for example, you seem to have no problem chatting the large Tiefling’s ear off.

It would seem you just don’t like him.

One day the two of you are rummaging through a ruined house and end up in an old library. A shout from you makes him turn and ask if you’re alright.

You explain you’re excited because you found a book from this series you love. It’s these biographies of old nobles, heroes, etc., fictionalized but really fun.

You’re smiling and your eyes are so bright. Astarion’s never seen anything so beautiful.

Then it all dies in an instant. “I’m sorry, this is silly. I’m probably bothering you.”

Astarion wants to gut every person who ever made you feel that way. And he can tell there were many.

He hurries to assure you that you are not boring him, and this is not silly.

With a little prodding, you continue until the sound of Gnolls in the distance makes you both realize it’s time to go.

At the last second, he recalls he saw the author’s name in another pile that had fallen from the shelf. He plucks it out and hands it to you. “Now you have two.”

That night, you shyly turn up at his tent, asking if he’d like to borrow one.

At this point, he’d read a book Gale wrote on Tressyms just to talk with you about it.

“If you’ll stay and read with me.” He’s shocked you agree.

It’s becomes a ritual, you read together at night, and talk about it on the road during the day.

You’re finally all bright and cheerful with him, and it takes his breath away.

One night, he can’t resist and leans in to steal a kiss while you’re chatting.

You’re stunned. Normally you’d think he was making fun of you again, but now that you’ve gotten closer, it’s just confusing.

You finally have the courage to ask, and Astarion confesses how long he’s liked you.

You’re overwhelmed and take a while to speak, making Astarion afraid he’s just ruined everything.

When you do, everything spills out, as you hurriedly explain why you kept your distance.

Astarion really can’t believe that a kind, gorgeous person like yourself was some sort of strange outcast. But he is a Vampire so maybe he’s skewed.

The two of you take things slow, you don’t exactly have much experience in romance.

Which is nice, it let’s Astarion figure himself out a bit more.

He realizes that sometimes you get in over your head in social situations, and he’s always there to back you up or take over.

The first time you had a meltdown, you were both scared, Astarion that he'd caused it somehow and you that he'd see how abnormal you were.

Afterwards, he starts to open up more about disassociating and his nightmares.

You learn how to take care of each other when these things happen.

Astarion will admit he doesn't always follow the thought process that's going on in that lovely head of yours, but it makes you even more fascinating, not frustrating like you worry.

You call yourself strange and again he reminds you he's a literal blood sucking, undead, creature of the night. Who's the strange one?

When you talk about something you're passionate about, you're amazing to watch.

Astarion doesn't come with ingrained expectations you can never meet. He just wants you to be you.

You've never felt more comfortable and safe around anyone.

Astarion often threatens to head back to your hometown to teach a few people a lesson. You tell him it doesn't matter anymore, you're so happy right now, today

The two of you argue constantly about who's luckier to have ended up in this relationship. But it feels like you were made to be together.

Tag list, to be added comment or dm me

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

@tallymonster @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess

@lumienyx @elora-the-slutty-songstress

@astariongf @satanicspinosaurus @lisrelly

#Astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my writing #my fanfic #astarion headcanons

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genshin-obsessed · 2 years ago

Text

Confessions | Honkai Star Rail

So i've been super into hsr recently and I thought I'd get back to doing longer hcs because those are always fun! This time I left out Welt and Sampo and I'm not sure how I feel about it lol ✧ Includes: Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Blade ✧ Extra: Something a little weird has happened to my Blade lol, he's just a confused man who really likes the reader. It may be ooc- i have no clue

Dan Heng

For Dan Heng, he doesn’t know how long he’s liked you. He just realized it one day when you said something- a compliment towards him- and he just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Dan Heng’s not the most outward person, so wanting to confess wasn’t something easy for him. He actually needed to prepare, give himself a pep talk and all. His method is invite you to his room and then just tell you- no beating around the bush.

You’re shocked to say the least- I mean it’s DAN HENG. He liked you?! HE CONFESSED?! You sat there for a good minute just staring at him. He looked calm but kinda started panicking on the inside.

“I-I like you too!” You say before he can speak. You were so loud, he jumped a little. Safe to say, he’s extremely happy you accepted because then it would’ve been awkward afterwards.

“Oh good… good.”

Gepard Landau

Everyone knows Gepard likes you before himself. He can say it’s just been a few months but others know it’s been like a year. It’s just the way he acts and stuff.

Gepard has a VERY hard time confessing. He’ll keep trying to do it, but then backs out at the last minute. He’ll keep saying he wants to talk to you about something important then just doesn’t tell you. Finally, one day… it slips out. You two are alone and he barely realizes it until he sees your face.

You’re happy but also shocked. The guy you’ve liked for like ever finally likes you back! Do you go through the statue phase of freezing up and staring? Yes. Did he start panicking because of it? Yes. Your reaction right after was to throw yourself at him and give him a tight hug.

He doesn’t say anything right then and just hugs you back. You not running away, horrified, probably meant you felt the same. That made him happy- so happy he didn’t even know what to do.

“Thank you… for not running away- oh and liking me back.”

Jing Yuan

His feelings had been around for a few months now, he knew pretty much instantly when he was attracted to you. It didn’t take him long to figure out he was in love with you either. It was obvious, his heart pounded when you were around, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he was always worried you’d find someone else.

Jing Yuan confesses fancy style. He’ll invite you out to like dinner or something or maybe just to take a late night walk with him. As you’re walking, he’ll coyly bring up the topic of dating and whatnot. You two chat for a bit, then he just admits it. He makes sure to add the “it’s alright if you don’t feel the same way, I won’t be upset.”

Of course, you do feel the same way! Your eyes widen and you gasp as the reality sets in. The General of the Cloud Knights liked YOU! It took a moment to just process his words, and Jing Yuan stood there patiently, giving you time to think. If you were going to say no, that’s fine, he just needed a clear answer. You found it hard to speak but forced the words out, “I-I feel the same.”

Jing Yuan’s over the moon with this newfound knowledge. He’s so happy, he could shout it out from over the rooftops. Honestly! All he can do is give you a tight hug, not wanting to do anything else if you weren’t ready for it- say a kiss.

“I’m glad. We should go on a date then- a proper one.”

Luocha

Luocha is very good at keeping his feelings to himself. At first, he thought it was just a little crush and it would pass. But it didn’t. It just… kept developing. He tried to manage it, feeling that maybe a relationship right now wasn’t the best option for him. But when his heart would start pounding every time you smiled at him, or his mind went back to you and what you might’ve been doing when you two were apart told me he… maybe didn’t wanna wait.

Luocha’s confession wasn’t exactly grand. I mean, what was there to be super grand about? Especially if you were going to reject him. So he just took you out on a little walk and slyly brought up the topic of relationships. Once you mentioned you didn’t mind being in one, he just said, “will you be in one with me?”

You kinda froze. Deer in headlights situation. You needed a moment to process what he’d just said. He… wanted to date you? WELL GOOD! YOU WANTED TO DATE HIM! You happily nodded, a big giant smile spreading on your face.

There was this emotion he felt when you said you liked him too. Pure, unadulterated happiness. He felt so good about himself, about life, about everything. That emotion spoke volumes and all he could do was hug you. Tightly.

"I'm glad... because I was really, really nervous you'd say no."

Blade

Ok… hear me out. Blade knows he likes you… when he doesn’t hate you. When you ask him for a favor and he says yes. When you hug him and he doesn’t strangle you- honestly, it wasn’t hard for him to know. Kafka teases him and he just ignores her.

Blade… doesn’t know how to confess. He’s not crazy about relationships or… people. So his entire confession was just confusing. You followed absolutely nothing except: “I like you.” You thought he was just admitting he didn’t hate you. That was good news! But you didn’t realize how good it was. “That’s great! I like you too!” You replied to which he crossed his arms, nodded, and said… “we’re dating now.”

Mhm. Yeah. That’s how smooth he is :’) you- you poor soul- didn’t know what he meant at first. So you were beyond shocked when he said what he did. Blade- BLADE- liked you- Y O U- romantically? You liked him too but you never ever expected this. Not in a million years.

You could only manage a dazed nod for a few seconds before a giant smile spread on your face and you practically threw yourself at him. Blade’s usual reaction would be to shove the person away but this was his special person. So… he hugged back.

“That was… rude, I think? Will you go on a date with me?”

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #luocha x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #🖊─ pocky’s writings

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darlingsfandom · 3 months ago

Note

ok this might be the BIGGEST ass kink ever and it’s okay if you aren’t comfortable writing it. how about ddlg with cillian where he forces her to grind her little cunt against his ass cheeks to get her off 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

You are dirty! I love you ✨ always come to me for these things

TW: ddlg, ass play, rimming! Not proofread.

“Daddy!” You came running into the bedroom until you came to a halt. Cillian was laying in bed with your pink teddy bear with a look on his face.

“Lookin for sumthin sweetheart?” He held the bear out for you to grab but quickly pulled it back making you pout. “Now I know this is your favorite but I couldn’t figure out why until I took a closer look… would you like to explain to daddy where your little bear here has a wet spot by its nose and smells just like yer cunt hmm?” He pursed his lips together as you stood nervously chewing your lip.

“I…” you stumbled your words because nothing was wanting to come out.

“Ya what sweetheart? Use your little teddy bear to get yerself off hmm?” Cillian tossed the bear onto the bed before he stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulled you close and looked into your eyes. “Ya wanna act like a dirty slut, yer gonna do just dat fer me got it!”

You quickly nodded as he undid his pants. His cock was begging to be let out of his boxers. You went to pull down his boxers but he slapped your hand away. “Greedy girl!”

Cillian pulled down his boxers a soft sigh falling out of his mouth when his cock was freed. He watched how you drooled over it even though you’ve seen it many times before. He let out a laugh at how pathetic you looked watching his cock. He circled you like a shark before he grabbed your skirt and yanked it down only to follow it up by ripping your panties. A shiver ran over your spine as the cool air hit your wet cunt. “And yer already so wet? Fucking slut.” He gripped your face in his hands making you look him in the eyes. “Since ya love being a dirty slut, yer gonna rub dat pretty cunt against my ass!”

Your eyes went wide. Did he really just say that? You blinked rapidly before nodding along. Cillian kissed you hard but not long enough for you to really feel it. After he was comfortable on his stomach he motioned for you to come over. You walked nervously over to him, climbed onto the bed and sat on your knees .

“How do I do it daddy?” You spoke softly as your fingers ran across his cheek.

“Ya really dat dumb sweetheart? Yer gonna rub yer pretty little cunt against my ass like ya would my thigh!” He snapped in a way that made you tingle.

You took a deep breath before swinging your leg over his and lowered yourself against his ass cheek. It was different than what you thought mostly because you’ve never thought about it. He was patient with you because it was your first time but it didn’t last long. He looked back over his shoulder to see you looking confused with sad eyes.

“Daddy, am I just supposed to rub myself ?” You asked quietly toying with your fingers. Cillian huffed.

“Dats exactly wut yer supposed to do, now please do it ! Before I have to spank you.” Cillian watched as you balanced yourself and began to rub your folds against his ass cheek. “Good girl.”

You placed your hand on his back for balance before you moved your hips faster feeling the slick leak out onto his ass made you feel dirty but in a good way. The way he was groaning below you encouraged you to keep going since he was enjoying it. Cillian loved how it felt to have your juices leaking onto him. The way your mouth hung open to moan, the way you looked fucked without even having his cock in you, it was a beautiful sight to behold and he was lucky to witness it.

“Daddy, this is making me tingle!”

“Good! That’s because yer my obedient little slut. I know wuts best fer ya!” He reached behind to spank your thigh which made you jump so he could take a quick glance at the wet spot that had doubled in size the longer you rubbed yourself out.

“What if I squirt daddy??” You whined feeling your orgasm build up.

“Then ya squirt on my ass! Are ya dat dumb now huh? Is being an obedient slut making you dat dumb?”

“I’m daddy dumb slut!” A smile appeared on your face which made him smile back at you before he seen that familiar face appearing. He knew you were close. The way your eyebrows furrowed together, how your nails were digging into his lower back, how your mouth was hanging.

“Cum for me ! Now !” He snapped at you and that’s all it took. Your body jolted up and with the angle you were at you soaked his ass, hip and watched as some dripped towards his hole as your squirt gushed out of you with a loud cry rippling from your throat. “Good girl! Now clean your mess.” You huffed before leaning down to run your tongue against his ass cheek. Cillian reached behind to grab your head and helped guided you across. You’re not sure what came over you but you found yourself on your knee behind him licking his ass cheeks until you reached his hole and that’s when the shock took over you! You felt that tingle between your legs as you found your self licking at his hole like it was your favorite meal.

“Oh baby! Dats a good girl yeah!” Cillian laid his head into the pillow as you ate his hole. You were spreading his ass cheeks while burying your face as deep as you could to get your tongue into it to make him feel good. Cillian used his hand to reach down and stroke his cock fast since his own orgasm was on the edge. Feeling your tongue eating his ass was driving him made. “Fucking dirty slut eating her daddy’s ass!” He pushed your face deeper inbetween his cheeks making you go breathless until he let go to which you pulled away to gasp for air and spit against the puckering hole.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” Cillian sat up quickly and pushed you down so he could cum on your face and did he ever! By the time he was done cumming you looked like you had just been in a gang bang with how much cum he had built up. You licked your lips with a giant smile on your face as he panted above you.

“Ya did such a good job baby, let’s get ya cleaned up yeah?” Cillian helped you onto your feet and walked with you to the bathroom where the two of you took a warm loving shower to make sure you knew that he still cared about you.

#cillian murphy x reader #au cillian murphy #cillian murphy #cillian murphy au #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy masterlist #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy x you

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alovesreading · 1 year ago

Text

Nice Kind Of Messy

Summary: Your friends set you up on a blind date, one that you aren't really looking forward to at all but when you find George Daniel there waiting outside the restaurant, there is no doubt it'll be a date to remember.

Word Count: 16.7k

Warnings: smut.

A/N: So I wrote this as part of my Alex series but I figured I should turn it into a one shot so my George girlies could read it without having to commit to a long Alex Turner fic lol It took me a while to get it ready on one shot form but I hope you enjoy now that it's here hehehe xx

Masterlist

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

You wake up that morning quite nervous. Your excitement makes you shiver in anticipation but the feeling brushes the line of anxiety and it’s rather overwhelming.

You’ve not been really looking to date lately, there hasn’t been any type of enthusiasm when hinted about putting yourself out there again since you got cheated on by your ex boyfriend. You couldn’t be arsed about it—the whole process of actively trying to look for a person that you felt was right and suited what you at least felt was the bare minimum was exhausting just to think about.

Going out with your friends was almost always a failed mission. They tried to get you out on the pull with them but you ended up straying back to the table and waving them goodbye when they came back with someone hanging from their arm, winking at them as if to wish them a good night.

They had only been lucky to send you off with someone a handful of times, but despite their best efforts to push you to pursue those who you had spent a night with, you had left them as that: a one night stand.

So they had used a new method this time, which entailed the fact that they had apparently been scheming about behind your back for a few weeks. You had only found out when you were having a wine night with them over at your flat, your jaw dropping and brows furrowing when they let you know they had made a reservation at a certain restaurant in Covent Garden so that you could meet up with someone they swore was the perfect match for you.

“It’s a blind date, we can’t tell you,” said one of your friends with a wicked grin on her face, sipping on her wine as you took the time to glare at your other two friends sitting on your settee.

They only offered you gallic shrugs and giggles, bubbly and high pitched which unfortunately managed to tug at the corners of your lips until they formed a smile.

A happy, “You’re excited then?” made you realize what you were doing, so you took a gulp of your wine and shook your head in disagreement as you swallowed.

“No, I’m just confused.” You really were, it was worse you didn’t have a clue who it could be because there wasn’t really anyone you think had shown interest towards you that you all knew. “Am I allowed to back out?”

You hoped you could, even if a meal at a restaurant you had been dying to go to for ages paid by one of them was on the cards here, but you were truly wary about throwing yourself into a situation where you actually had to put yourself in the dating mindset.

As you cursed your stupid cheating scum of an ex for ruining the prospect of dating for you, your friends shook their heads and said, “No.” in unison.

And they unfortunately went on to explain how your date knew about it already and had cleared their schedule for it to happen, and since you were an awful people pleaser, you sighed in defeat and agreed to go.

So there you are, slowly making your way to your kitchen to make yourself breakfast, despite the nerves making your stomach flip constantly and making you nauseous. Slowly you eat, slowly you wash your dishes and put them away.

You do everything slowly that day, taking a long shower and lounging in bed, still in your robe and letting your hair air dry. The date wasn’t until four so you still had time, and you figured if you went about it at a steady pace, then by the time you were fully ready you would have to leave and there wouldn’t really be a long space of time for you to bail out at the last minute.

By the time it hits noon, you’re doing your hair. Straightening it and curling the ends leisurely, humming along the music you’re playing on your speakers which is interrupted by a call.

“Good afternoon Miss Y/L/N, are you ready for today?” One of your friends greets you with a chipper tone in her voice, you could practically see the beaming smile on her face just from her voice.

Biting on your bottom lip, you let the phone rest on your lap as you continue with the next section of hair and shyly admit, “I’m actually nervous…”

The way she coos at you makes you roll your eyes but there’s a wave of consolation that comes over you when she says, “Good but also don’t be. He’s an absolute dream.”

The tiny piece of information actually makes you more curious about who he is, so you try your chances again as you ask, “Are you finally gonna tell me who it is?”

You had been trying all week to get anything out of your friends but they had been surprisingly good at keeping this one secret under a lock. And this time wouldn’t be different since you only get a vague, “All you have to know is that he’s fit and I know you’ll get on with him perfectly well.”

At least the reassurance that you and him would get on well eases your nerves a little. Not as much as you would like though, but that’s because you know yourself and when you first meet anyone, you get shy and a bit awkward, so you’re praying that you'll be able to get a bit of courage not to make a fool out of yourself.

Thankfully your friend stays on the phone with you as you finish doing your hair and you actually facetime her when you’re doing your makeup. She keeps making you laugh throughout it all and somehow makes you forget about how tense you had been for a bit.

Her boyfriend, Matty, comes back to her flat from a meeting right as you’re showing your friend the dress you’re wearing for the date and, to her dismay, he almost slips and tells you who it is that you’re seeing in merely an hour from now.

“Matthew!” She exclaims loudly before the name can fall from his lips and he quickly throws his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

His honest, “I’m so sorry.” sounds muffled behind his hand and it only gets an eye roll from your friend which makes you laugh.

But you are gutted that your only chance to find out is gone that way. You whine as you complain, “Why do you react so quickly?”

Your friend takes her boyfriend’s close mishap as a sign to let you go though, completely ignoring your complaint to remind you, “You’re gonna have to get faster Miss, it’s quarter past three and it’s a twenty five minute walk over there.”

“Shit, right.” You curse under your breath, realizing you need to get dressed already and leave as soon as you can so you aren't late.

“You look fucking stunning, babe.” She states with confidence, reassuring you since you seem to start growing panicky, “I’m gonna leave you now so you can change but you have the best time Y/N/N, alright?”

You purse your lips at the camera and clutch your chest, “Thanks hun, love you.”

She grins sweetly at you and reciprocates, “Love you too. And let me know how it goes, alright?”

“Will do, but I don’t promise anything too interesting.” You make sure to make that point clear, you don’t have much expectations for the date just so you don’t end up feeling defeated for it not meeting whatever you could imagine it to be if you allowed yourself to.

But your friend is in heavy doubt of it not being interesting considering she knows who you are meeting with. So she shrugs as she smirks, “Yeah, well… We shall see about that.”

It’s the way that she looks like she’s trying not to laugh that has you narrowing your eyes at her, “What?”

Question that isn’t answered because she plays dumb and simply says, “Okay byeee! Love you!” loudly, blowing you a kiss before hanging up the phone.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

You walk the best you can in your high heeled boots which were not a great pick when mixed with how nervous you are and how far you had to walk. You had debated getting a taxi when you were locking up your flat but decided against it when you realized that if you did, you’d get there quicker and you wanted to stall as much as you could.

You aren’t even late yet, ten minutes left for the clocks to strike four in the afternoon and you are merely five minutes away. The whole walk, you had been practicing in your head whatever you could say to the guy you were meeting with, just to prevent embarrassing yourself. If anything went wrong though, you had brought your camera with you and a few rolls were stuffed in your pocket so that you could at least take the opportunity to take pictures.

In your head, you had gone from any topics you could come up with about yourself, deciding against being the one to mention your tragic love life and picking a few questions that could be interesting to ask your date.

But all the inquiries and words you had been rehearsing die in your throat when you round the corner at the end of the restaurant’s street and you see the tall dirty blonde smoking a cigarette, leaning on a lamppost right by the entrance of the establishment.

You think of making a run back to your building, hesitating which way would be easiest to go and how it would work with your long dress but his eyes fall on you before you can make up your mind and when he smiles sweetly at you, cigarette perched between his lips, you know it’s too late.

On your face a shy smile breaks and you give him a little wave before approaching him, faking confidence as you get closer until he’s only a few feet away so you say, “Oh hi, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Your face is burning up and you know he can see your flustered demeanor because he smirks down at you, and cheekily asks, “Were you hoping for someone else?”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you smile harder at his playfulness and in a rush of bravery you choose to play along, “Do you really want to know the answer?”

He takes a drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke out steadily as he shakes his head, “I’m just hoping you remember my name.”

And how could you forget, “Of course I remember you, George.”

George hums, taking one last drag of his smoke as he takes in your appearance and he’s grinning mischievously when seeing the dark satin and lace of your dress contrasting on your skin, your leather jacket making you look even more stunning and coincidentally matching the one he’s wearing.

“Glad you haven’t, Y/N.” The drummer replies with a wink, dropping the bud on the ground and stepping on it before taking something out of the pocket of his dark jeans, “Y/F/N sent this for you.”

An involuntary “Oh.” falls from your lips, entirely intrigued by what it can be that your friend had wanted to tell you that couldn’t be said on the phone because George hands you a folded piece of paper that only says Y/N/N x on the front.

You carefully open it, trying your best to avoid George seeing it—which is a bit of an issue since he’s so tall he can easily read if he looks down—and you instantly blush harder when you read Get the nice kind of messy ;) x

A flashback of the moment at Glastonbury when you had been gawking at George and you had let slip how fit you found him comes to the forefront of your mind and you can’t help yourself getting a little flustered at the mere thought of it.

“He’s fit as fuck.” Your eyes are unable to move from his figure, the way his muscles contract and define with every hit of the drums and the facial expressions he makes as he plays.

Your friend snorts in laughter and leans in to ask further, “Oh, so you fancy George then?”

You stutter as you try to come up with a response, “I mean… Look at him!” You’re entirely entranced by it all and it doesn’t help that he’s covered in a thin coat of sweat already, only three songs into their set, so his white top is slowly becoming translucent and sticking to his body.

It’s like your brain is shutting down and all that it can register is the look of the drummer because it takes you a few long seconds to realize your friend has teasingly said, “I’ll make sure to relay that message.”

“Oh, no, don’t.” The panic of that happening is the one thing that helps you snap out of your trance.

You watch as your friend’s face contorts in confusion and she fights your answer, “Why?! You need to get back out there and who better than George?”

But you shake your head, “No, that’d be so messy!” You can’t think of anything worse than trying to get with your friend’s boyfriend’s best friend—you cringe just imagining how that going wrong would cause a horrendous change in the group’s dynamic.

All of your worries come to a halt and you choke on your own spit when your friend smirks as her eyes fall on George, “That’d be messy, alright. The nice kind of messy.”

In an attempt to try and play it cool, you fold the note and shove it in one of the pockets of your leather jacket, clearing your throat, adjusting the strap of your camera on your shoulder and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like it’s all fine and normal.

But George can see the way you’re pursing your lips and how you hid the note so hastily so your behavior completely betrays your attempts to be secretive about it. “What did you say?” He kept his promise that he wouldn’t open the note when Matty gave it to him earlier that day, even though he’s been really tempted too, especially when he realized Matty knew what it said because he was giggling when his girlfriend handed it to him.

You don’t give him an answer though, only a little cough that acts as a coverup of you avoiding his gaze and a subtle shrug, “Just a little joke.”

“Can you share?” He tries further, his hand coming to nudge you softly in the arm.

Not even that helps your answer change. You shake your head and say a shy, “Not really.”

“I see how it is.” George narrows his eyes at you and adds, “S’alright, I’ll remember that.” which is a promise that has you biting your tongue.

“Shall we go inside?” The drummer says then, watching you struggling to come up with a response to his previous statement.

The new question is much easier to reply to, a soft “Yes.” falling from your lips, breathlessly.

And he takes your breath even more when he lets you walk ahead, only to rest his hand on your lower back delicately and casually comment, “You look beautiful by the way. Really like that we’re matching with the leather jackets.”

The opportunity to not acknowledge the compliment is perfect because you feel like you’re going to explode under George’s attention. You giggle and nod, “What a great coincidence huh?”

His answer being, “Hot coincidence.” accompanied by a wink doesn’t make it easy for you though and you find out then that being on a date with George Daniel means blushing every five minutes even if the chat is about mundane topics.

You talk about your hometowns and the differences between your upbringings, how different it was that you’d stayed in the same city for your entire life while he lived moving around for a good part of his childhood until his family settled in Manchester. You tell each other how you had ended up doing what you were doing currently and you end up cooing constantly when George tells you how the guys became friends and how the band had come together. You exchange stories about your jobs, finally having the opportunity to ask all that came to your mind about producing music which you had always found fascinating ever since you’d gotten closer to the band. George being fascinated about your knowledge on films and everything to do with photography and cinematography, which really comes with your job as a photographer and videographer.

Then he asks about your hand tattoo—the ‘Pure Desire’ written on the back of your hand is rather enticing—smirking when he rubs his thumb over it and asks if you have any more which ends up in you both sharing the amount of ink you have on your bodies which George beat you to by an incredible amount. You end up taking your jackets off and showing each other each piece you have on your skin.

Eventually, the chat comes back to the band and you ask him whereabouts The 1975 has toured so far. Your jaw drops the more his list continues and you genuinely have a hard time wrapping your head around them being relatively new to the mainstream scene when they are already going to all those places.

“I don’t even remember the last time I went on holiday, fucking hell.” You chuckle out in awe at the information he’s just given you.

And George turns your innocent amusement into a mess of heated cheeks, pressed lips and eye rolls when he suggests how that could be easily fixed, “We just have to take you on tour with us next time, don’t we?”

“Think it’ll be crowded enough now that Matty is taking Y/F/N with him.” Your eyebrows are raised to accentuate how serious you are trying to be about it, it’s so hard to conceal how flustered you are at his insinuation.

But he makes it difficult for you to play it cool when he shrugs, “We can share a bunk then.”

“You’re such a flirt. Bet you say that to all the girls.” It almost sounds like you’re scolding him and he likes seeing the reactions he can get out of you, but there’s one thing that has been constant in the back of his mind and he decides to bring it up.

Taking his glass up to his lips, he takes a sip and gulps softly to start saying, “Surprised me when Y/F/N called me and asked if I wanted to go on a date with you.”

“God, that’s embarrassing.” You wince at the information, hating the way it looks for your friends to be asking people around if they want to go out with you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin and die in a ditch.

George smirks playfully, “Going on a date with me?”

You laugh in response to that, shaking your head before clearing up, “Y/F/N asking if you wanted to go out with me. You know you could’ve said no.”

He frowns at you, like you’ve just said the most outrageous thing and he wholeheartedly asks, “But why would I?”

“Oh George, stop it.” You warn him, pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes at him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” George reaches his hand out to touch yours and you almost shiver under it.

You let your fork down beside your plate and fan yourself with your hand as you admit, “You’re making me blush.”

But that’s not something that will keep him quiet, because he confesses, “Yeah and I quite enjoy doing it.”

The rest of the date is spent between good food, good wine, laughter, a picture you take of George when he asks about your camera, and chatter that has been really entertaining and entirely not awkward like you’d been expecting. Getting to know George in a deeper way is like a breath of fresh air and that’s why, when you leave the restaurant and the drummer offers to walk you back home, you don’t even hesitate to accept.

He takes a few detours on the way, taking you around places where he had hilarious and very wholesome stories of his childhood and teenage years when he would come around to London with the lads and other friends just to mess about. You’re so grateful for the anecdotes because you’re making sure to capture each place in its unique beauty and you know now that behind each shot you’d have the memory of what George had shared with you.

George watches you closely every time you take a picture, taking in every little thing you do before and after you press the shutter. You’re so adorable to him, the way your face lights up when you press the shutter and look at him excitedly when you roll the film.

You guide the both of you back to the way to your flat and as you walk, you’re smoking cigarettes and chatting. It’s so easy to carry a conversation with George, he exudes such an energy that just makes you feel free talking about whatever comes to your mind without having to think for a split second about what you should say or shouldn’t.

And just as easy comes laughter, because not only is his laugh hilariously contagious, he is funny himself and he has you struggling to catch your breath multiple times at his quips and comments.

There is something about this evening that you just feel the need to remember as best as you can so he catches you sneakily trying to take candids of him, every time he’s called you out on it and you shamelessly lie about the frame being focused on just what was behind him—every time something mundane and boring—but by the fifth time, instead of calling you out and have you grumpily change the focus of your lenses, he allows you to take a picture of him and even smiles for you; he doesn’t miss how your eyes twinkle after you’ve pressed the shutter.

The way you smile to yourself and proudly state, “I’m really gonna like that one.” makes George’s chest swell and in a lack of any more self control, he stops dead in his tracks and turns to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him, your chest hitting his chest eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips.

“Oh hi.” You giggle at the sudden action, your hands subconsciously resting on his chest after that, but any other words die in your throat when he dips his head and traps your lips with his.

You hum into the kiss, which is a dizzying combination between sweet and determined. His left arm stays wrapped around your waist, pulling your flush into his chest but the other one comes up to cup your jaw and he keeps you at the perfect angle for him to kiss you just how he wants.

Your arms slowly move up until they are wrapped around the back of his neck and you let your fingers tangle in his hair. It’s soft and long on the top of his head which you really like. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his fingers clutching your tighter and you let your mouth open so you can taste each other.

You completely forget where you are until someone walks past you and whistles at the two of you, startling you out of the kiss. You really enjoyed that kiss, and it shows in the way you look up at George with burning cheeks and something written on your face.

“I liked that.” George cheekily states, getting ahold of your hand and resuming your walk.

You hum, trying not to giggle when he intertwines your fingers and a feeling you can easily recognize starts bubbling inside you. “Yeah, I liked that too.”

You felt like a teenager. Blushing to yourself while you walked hand in hand with the person you had a crush on, and it’s so ridiculous but so relieving at the same time to feel this kind of pathetic elation instead of despair and heartache for once.

Your conversation resumed from whichever point you last remember it being left at but after that kiss it only gets more and more flirty, and you like where it is going but soon enough you reach your building and you have to slowly come to a stop with a pout.

“This is me.” You mumble, squeezing his hand in yours but he doesn’t let go.

He hums as if hesitant of believing what you’ve just said and instead he suggests, “Don’t you wanna take another walk around the block?”

“George, my feet hurt.” They had been hurting for a while but you hadn’t said anything just to not ruin things, and because you were enjoying his company so much that you were willing to endure the pain for a while longer.

The drummer comes to a quick solution, “I’ll carry you.”

Which makes you chuckle, “Sure you would.” You genuinely don’t want the date to end so in a bit of a rushed decision, you bargain, “Don’t you… Do you wanna come upstairs?”

He gets a kick of excitement inside him but he wants to play it cool, so he jokes, “What, are you gonna take my picture?”

You hold back a snort of laughter, and shrug as if it was fine by you that he only wanted that. “If that’s what you want.” There’s a little voice in your head that tells you not to but there is another one that purely encourages you to have fun.

“Yeah, that works.” George casually says, like he isn’t praying that he gets lucky to even get another kiss out of you.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

“Where’d you want me?” George turns to look at you as you drop your camera on your bedside tables and take your jacket off to perch on the back of a loveseat you have in the corner of your room.

You take one of the new rolls out of your pocket and change it for the one you’d almost fully used earlier that day. “Wherever you’re comfortable.” you tell him, focusing on perfectly lining the roll before you can turn to him.

“Bed’s quite comfy.'' You hear George say from behind you and when you look up to see him, you find him lying on his side, head perched on his hand and a smirk on his face. “Paint me like one of your french girls.” He teases, resting his other hand dramatically on his forehead.

All you do is giggle at his antics, “You’re such an idiot.” Shaking your head, you come up to the bed and try looking at the scene through your lenses but you aren't quite convinced by the shot.

George watches you struggle, stepping backwards and forwards, to the sides before sighing. He reminds you with a soft smile, “I’m not used to being the one to pose for the camera. You’re gonna have to guide me.”

“Okay.” Silently, you think about it as you bite on your thumb and once a vision comes to your mind, you start instructing him, “Lean into your forearms, sideways so you fit in the bed.” But you find what’s bothering you and it’s that his legs are half hanging off the bed.

“Why are you so tall? Oh my god.” You go over to the drummer and prompt him to go further into the bed, perching one of his sock-clad feet up on the bed and the other leg staying stretched on the bed. “There, now look at me.”

George looks at you with a blank face first to which you complain about but when he actually shows you a smile he starts giggling, and if there had been something you had learned about George quite early into your date was that his laugh was incredibly contagious, so you find yourself shaking with laughter as you try to take his pictures and you end up having to call him out for it.

“Don’t laugh! You’re making me laugh!” You scorn him, struggling to sound serious between your giggles.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes halfheartedly, swallowing his laughter until he goes back to a stoic face and he gives you the perfect soft smolder.

You hum in satisfaction at the result of that frame and then you move onto instructing him to do the next pose, “Throw your head back a bit and close your eyes.” He silently listens and does as you say which earns him a sweet, “Just like that.” from you.

Of course, your words make George give you a look, one that had you lightly blushing and since you know he can recognize the way you get flustered, you hide behind your camera.

“What?” You say behind the device, inquiry thrown out into the air, and warn him, “Don’t look at me like that.”

George chuckles to himself, wondering if you are this naive or if you are playing dumb. So when you take another picture of him, he purposely complains, “My leg’s cramping.” to then throw himself back on the bed, ending up completely splayed over the duvet and breaking the pose.

“George!” You scold him yet again, a bit of amusement sneaking through your words.

He groans in response and without moving, tells you to “Just take a picture like this.”

You kiss your teeth to exaggerate your disapproval and shake your head, “I can’t even see your face.”

“Come here so you can see it.” He resolves easily for you, waving you over to come close to the side of the bed instead of taking pictures by the end of it. You roll your eyes at him in amusement, not moving at first but since he actually doesn’t plan on moving, you have to do as he says.

But attempting to get a picture from above while standing beside the bed is an actual failure, “That’s an awkward angle, look at me.” You try to get him to turn to his side again but he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Need you on your side.” You say explicitly this time but he doesn’t let up either.

Instead he suggests, “Why don’t you just get up here?” He pats the bed, right next to his hip and you blush just thinking about it. At your silence, he opens his eyes and turns his head to the side to encourage you with a “C’mon.”

He offers his hand so you can use it as leverage to kneel on the bed on each side of his hips and hover above him. You struggle as you do so because you’re growing nervous and therefore clumsy.

“Fucking hell, George.” You curse under your breath, seeing him from above is an angle that you don’t really know if you can handle.

“What?” George bites his bottom lip to not let a smirk break on his face.

Yet, not even that keeps you from knowing that he knows just what he was doing but you won’t say anything, because you’re enjoying this a lot more than you are supposed to. So you stick to just replying, “Nothing.” as you take yet another picture of him.

Remembering his tattoos, you bit your bottom lip for a few seconds before hesitatingly asking, “Why don’t you take your jacket off?”

George lets his hands rest right above your knees and squeezes your legs as he teases, “Is that code for something?”

You hoped your flustered state wasn’t obvious so you can play off your nonchalant, “For ‘I want to see your tattoos’, yes.”

It goes right over his head though, because he keeps smirking as he sarcastically replies, “Right, right.”

You move so he can take the piece of clothing off without you hovering over him but when he’s done and laying on the bed again, he pats his right side so you can move your left leg there and have you hover over him properly again.

“How’s that look?” He asks cheekily as his hands go to touch your legs again, the skin up to your mid thighs showing because your dress slit allows it to open and rise up in the position you’re in.

“Amazing.” You breathlessly compliment, making him raise an eyebrow at you.

The shutter goes off again and, as you roll the film, he tests the waters, “Do you want to see them all?”

“Sure.” The word comes out so soft it could’ve gone with the wind, his hands leave your thighs for a second to grab the bottom of his shirt.

“Top’s coming off next then, is that alright?” He asks for confirmation first and you nod eagerly, your pupils dilating in anticipation.

He sheds himself off his shirt in the constricted space he had, you’re so spaced out that you don’t move but it isn’t a problem for George. If anything, his smirk grows at your inability to act and it gets bigger when he throws his shirt somewhere across the room and you’re left shamelessly gawking at his naked top half.

After a minute of your eyes wandering everywhere, George brings your back to reality by letting his hands come over your thighs again. You tremble at the same time as the drummer says, “Y/N/N?”

“Yeah?” You ask, slowly coming back to reality. Your brain has been completely taken over by the view of the taut muscles of his arms littered by colorful ink, a pair of symmetric ‘broken’ tattoos on both sides of his collarbones and his torso beautifully chiseled with a defined six pack.

“When are you taking the picture?” He reminds you, trying not to smirk too hard as to not put you off.

“Shit, sorry.” You say under your breath and, after quickly focusing the shot, finally take a picture of him like that.

There was a heavy silence that hung over you two, the trail of his fingers making your skin grow hot and your throat going dry at the growing need for anything at all. So you find yourself surprised when he breaks the silence to ask you, “Can I take your picture?”

“Mine?” You repeated like you’d heard wrong.

George nods and lets you know, “You look really pretty from here.”

In a feeble attempt not to have him do that, you remind him, “You don’t know how to.”

“Matty had a film camera a few years ago, I know how to.” George surprises you even further when he explains and just to try a bit harder, he pouts at you and says, almost begging, “Please?”

“Okay.” You let yourself accept, your mind too distracted by the view beneath you to even fight.

Once you hand him the camera, he lifts it up to his eyes and lets out a chipper, “Smile.” as an instruction, which you follow only just a bit shyly.

You’re about to get the device back from him when he pulls it away from your grasp and pleads, “Another one please?”

You sigh at the drummer’s exaggerated pout until it turns into a giggle and that’s when the shutter goes off. Your cheeks burn again when he compliments as he rolls the film, “Stunning.”

Letting the camera rest beside him, George tries his luck and lets his hands rub on the skin of your thighs a bit further up. You don’t refuse it, he can clearly see the growing hunger in your eyes as you look down at him so he continues, letting his gaze trail down your body to drink in all of your but when he reaches down to your legs is when he catches a slight glimpse of red ink on your left thigh that makes him ask, “Do you have more tattoos?”

He doesn’t remember your mentioning any other tattoos than the ones you’d shown him at the restaurant. So when you nod, he can’t help but ask, “Where?”

“One, right here.” You grab his right hand so he can touch over the fabric of your dress where the one on your rib is. Your eyes looking right into his and his lips opening further when you continue, “And this one here.” lifting the fabric up to show the ‘Divine Feminine’ tattoo on your thigh.

George lets his right hand fall until it reaches the one on your thigh, you’re still clutching the satin in your first so he can fully see it. He rubs on the red ink on your skin as he stares at it, eliciting goosebumps to break on your entire body.

He looks up and asks with a low voice about the only one he hasn’t seen yet but you had just let him touch over your dress, “What’s the other one?”

“A word.” You vaguely say, as if encouraging him to continue asking about it.

“Which word?” His fingers trail further up, making your knees go completely weak. They had been hurting from hovering over him for so long but his touch is the thing to finally have you finally sit on his lap.

And that’s when you feel him growing hard in his jeans.

His fingers had already been making your every thought go straight down to your core so you’re entirely driven by lust when you fully lift the satin up and shed the dress off your body, leaving you only in your underwear and in full show for George.

It’s involuntary, his hips jerking forward and pressing on your center, his mouth agape at the sight and he grows even more breathless when you roll your center against his hardening cock.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, taking one quick look at the strange word on your rib before perching himself up on his left forearm to wrap his right hand around your neck and pull you in for a hungry kiss.

You lean further into him, one arm wrapping around his shoulders and digging into his hair to pull on it as your lips move with each other. Your fingers tugging on his hair made him groan into your mouth and, as payback, he tightens his fingers around your neck, earning a loud moan out of you.

George pushes himself up with his left hand until he’s sitting on the bed, his right arm wrapping around your waist to keep you flush against him. Your tongues taste each other and your breaths grow heavy when you start rolling your hips in sync, meeting in the middle and creating a delicious friction that soon enough forces you to break the kiss only to gasp in pleasure into each other's mouths.

His fingers come to graze the ink on your left rib, your desperate side having you sink your hips down to roll against him and turn his, “What does it mean?” into a gorgeous moan.

Your lips brush as he moans and you respond to his sound with a mewl of your own and when that reaches his ears, George forgets ever asking anything for he can’t wait any longer to feel your lips on his again.

The kiss grows needy then. His hand goes from your ribs down to knead the flesh of your ass, fingers harshly digging into your skin and encouraging you to move against him. Your clit was getting so stimulated from only being covered by the thin material of your lace thong against his jeans which means you can’t kiss him any longer.

A string of moans falls from you as you quicken your pace, getting louder as you go but your actions are interrupted when George clutches you tightly by your middle and swiftly flips the two of you around so it you’re resting on your back on the bed with him hovering right over you.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden change of positions, your hand flying to cup his face and bring his lips back on yours and wrapping your legs around his waist to pull his hips into your core in a desperate attempt to have the friction back.

The feeling of his hard on coming down to rub harshly against you every time he bucks his hips forward makes your head spin. He starts off by teasing you with the friction and leaving you hanging for a few seconds before going back in but when you start gasping into his mouth, he keeps himself close to you and relentlessly rolls his hips on yours, hard cock pressing deliciously against your throbbing clit.

The pace grows faster, making it impossible for you to continue moving your lips with his so he takes it as a sign to continue on with what he wants to do first. Unfortunately, that means his hips stop moving and leave you throbbing and clenching around nothing but he makes it up to you with his lips all over your skin.

Wet kisses trail down your neck, his lips taking their time to give every bit of your skin attention on the way down. Kissing, sucking, licking. His fingers run down your sides until they clutch tightly on your hips, fingers pressing hard on the skin there and making your cry out in pleasure even louder.

Your breath is heavy by the time he stops sucking bruises all over your chest and abdomen, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging on it so he can come back up but instead his tongue runs flat from just above your belly button agonizingly slowly up until his nose bumps against the hem of your bra.

George looks up at you through his lashes, teeth coming to bite on the fabric and tugging them the slightest bit down so you know what he wants to do and you desperately nod.

Without much of a proper attempt to take the piece of clothing off, he just tugs down the lace cups on it and lets your tits spill out freely for him. He groans from the pits of his chest at the sight, hips bucking forwards into the mattress harshly in search of some relief for himself.

But not letting any more seconds go by, George dives to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. Groaning around it, the vibrations of the noise causing white heat to run straight down to your throbbing wet cunt.

He switches the sucking for flicking it with his tongue, blowing cold air and smirking as your nipple hardens at his actions, ending with a soft bite and tug that have you loudly saying his name in call for mercy.

You needed something, anything. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing and it’s almost torturous. But your cries fall on deaf ears for he moves onto your other nipple and repeats his process. You’re only ruining your underwear further, so wet you feel uncomfortably sticky with your thong still on.

“George, baby, please–” You plead in anguish when he starts sucking bruises on your tits, biting them until you whimper loudly under him.

“What do you need Y/N/N?” He asks sweetly, a stark contrast to his vicious attack on your chest.

“Anything. Just–” You try to say, your words catching up in your throat as your desperation for release clouds your logic and makes you sound stupid.

So you rely on grabbing one of his hands from your hips and guiding it down to where you’re aching. The simple graze of one of his fingertips on your swollen clit eliciting a pathetic mewl out of you.

“Oh sweetheart,” George tuts “Made quite a mess, haven’t you?” His pointer finger runs up and down your clothed core slowly and so faintly you don’t even know if you are imagining it.

Applying a bit more pressure assures him to hear every one of your needy sounds and feeling like you had waited enough, he leaves a light feather kiss over your center.

“Need help cleaning up this mess, yeah?” His words are sweet, like he’s finally taking pity on you. The thought of him doing absolutely anything at that moment sounds so fucking good your hum in agreement sounds more like a whine, barely able to make eye contact with him in your hazy mind.

His long tongue runs flat over your underwear, wetting even more than it already is and he moans at the taste of your slick soaking through it. His fingers tug the fabric down your legs and throw it somewhere behind him in record time. He finds himself almost drooling at the sight of you completely exposed to him.

If you had any hint of inhibitions left in you, you would’ve tried to close your legs under his attentive gaze but he’s entranced and you’d had it with waiting any longer so you prop your legs wide open and squirm in your place.

“George, please.”

Your pleading is so sweet, so desperate, he can’t deny you any longer. So he dips his head in between your legs and starts lapping at you like a starved man. At the first proper taste he has of you, he moans loudly, tongue running up and down your slit to gather as much of you as he can and enjoying every drop of your arousal on his tongue.

“Are you not gonna continue taking my picture?” George interrupts his task to tauntingly ask, going back to using his tongue on you, this time flicking it up and down quickly on your clit and making you shiver.

Your words are caught in your throat when he doesn’t relent his actions but still looks at you expectantly through his lashes, “Right– F-fuck! Right now?”

He only allows himself to stop for the amount of seconds it takes him to nod and say, “Yes baby, be a good girl and take my picture.”

That ‘good girl’ makes you roll your eyes in utter pleasure, and all you can think of is doing as he’s telling you to earn his praise; because you want more, you need more.

Your head turns quickly to see where he’s left the camera, and you bring it to your eyes to take a picture as fast as you can. Your thoughts are already becoming clouded by the tightening coil in your lower belly.

His disheveled dirty blonde hair in between your legs, his arms underneath your legs and hands clutching your thighs in place is all that you captured in that frame. The shutter goes off letting George know you have done as he’d said and he congratulates you by praising you with a proud, “Such a good fucking girl.” and a few kisses to your clit which make you jolt.

He goes back down, trying to clean up the mess of slick and saliva that’s dripping down your inner thighs and onto the duvet, but you’re so desperate so you start rocking your hips against his face, trying to steer him back to where you wanted him to be and, to your satisfaction, he follows the silent instruction by going back to your center and this time pointing his tongue and dipping it inside your sopping hole.

Your legs instinctively close around his head, eliciting a breathy laugh from him that hits your core as he continues tongue fucking you. His hands come to spread your legs open again, holding your limbs down on the bed strongly, not allowing you to move any longer.

The feeling of his wet tongue dipping in and out of you has you growing increasingly louder, begging and pleading with him not to stop, your orgasm so close you can feel it.

But despite your words, he stops.

At that very moment, you swear you can cry, knowing you had just been about to come undone on his tongue. But just before you can pathetically let your frustrated tears roll down your cheeks, his lips wrap around your throbbing clit and he sucks on it. The perfect amount of pressure for you to thrash around beneath him as your pleasure resumes and hits you with an incredible force, making you let out a string of moans of his name and then a bunch of “Yes! Fuck yes!”, hands flying down to tangle your fingers in his hair and keep him in his place.

“I’m gonna cum!” You yell out loud, eyes shutting tightly since the pleasure impedes you from keeping them open, and when George starts humming as he sucks your clit, you are done for.

Your legs tremble under his hold, toes curling and your fingers tugging his hair tighter than you had been before. You black out as your orgasm hits you hard, the oxygen in your lungs leaving you entirely as your back arches off the bed and you only come back from your high when his incessant sucking becomes too much for your oversensitive self so you pull him away from you.

He giggles, completely entranced by your fucked out state. Watching you cum had been an experience but god don’t you look beautiful with your chest heaving, bruises looming on your skin, a flush to your face and chest, a thin coat of sweat making your body and face shine.

But before he can give you any more attention, his gaze falls back to your cunt and it’s glistening with arousal. You taste so fucking good to him that he wastes no more time to lick you clean. Your legs tremble at the resumed contact of his tongue on your sensitive core, whimpers stubbornly leaving you as he goes.

Your fingers leave his hair alone but your left hand cradles his head as he laps up at everything you have given him, and after a whole minute of him meticulously licking clean every inch of skin that had been wet with your arousal, he starts a trail of kisses from your mound until he reaches your belly button.

Flashing a smile up at you, George rests his chin on your lower stomach and you can’t hold yourself back from brushing his messy hair back almost adoringly, post orgasm haze making you extra appreciative of him and his skilled tongue work.

His fingers rub circles on the top of your thighs, “Feel good?” He asks before leaving more soft kisses on your lower stomach.

“Very.” You answered with a smile, fingers brushing through his hair.

He hums at the feeling of your touch, “Good to know, gorgeous.”

Turning to see where you’d left it, you reach out to grab your discarded camera. Melting into the duvet under George’s gentle touch and his lips pressing on your skin leisurely, you really make an effort as you lean on your forearms so that you can get a better look at him to take a picture. He looks up at you with a dizzying smirk that you manage to capture, and you know that you’ll adore that picture no matter the outcome of this day.

His lips tickle the skin of your lower stomach when he points out, “Didn’t even have to tell you this time.”

Putting the device back down on the bed, you shrug with a grin sneaking onto your lips, “You look good.”

“Do I, now?” He teases, dropping his hands from your thighs and pressing them on the mattress so he can slowly push himself up and crawl his way up to hover over you again.

“You always do.” Your words come laced with lust, his eyes darkening as he gets closer and you just can’t wait any longer to have him in more ways. “Come here.” You instruct by wrapping a hand around his neck, fingers pressing on the sides of it until he groans loudly in pleasure and when he lets the sound leave his lips, you smirk and warn, “My turn.”

Pulling him in by his neck means that your tongues meet instantly when you start the kiss, and when you taste yourself on his tongue, you moan so loudly George growls just as loud in response.

The kiss is all teeth clashing, spit dribbling down to your chins, noses bumping, deep exhales sounding loudly and trying to overpower the sounds of your swollen lips moving together.

It’s George the one to grow louder when your hand drops from his neck, down his naked torso to the button of his jeans, which you undo with quick fingers and pull the zip down before you can palm him over the fabric of his boxers.

“F-fuck…” He lets out when your nimble fingers squeeze him and stroke him up and down. He’s so hard that your touch makes him shiver.

You can feel him so swollen and heavy under your hand, your mind already spinning about how big he is but you want to have him unravel under you so badly, you push any worries about his size to the back of your head.

His hips move slowly, helping with your movements, clearly wanting to reach his high but you want to taste him and you want it now. So you leave his cock alone to instruct him, “Lay down, baby.”

You switch positions, George laying on his back and you’re kneeling between his legs. He pants as he watches you shamelessly gawk at him, your mouth going dry at the clear outline of his cock.

“Fucking hell, George.” You curse as you tug on the top of his jeans so he can lift his hips up for you to take them off him.

He does as instructed and you’re just too impatient to wait any more, you want to feel him heavy on your tongue already. His boxers come off quickly after his jeans, his hard cock springing up to touch right by his navel.

You gulp. He’s thick, angry red tip already leaking from how aroused he is. Intimidating but so inviting.

Dipping your head down, you start kissing his hips. Leaving kisses that go from sweet to wet and messy the more he squirmed under you.

“You…” George pleads, hand coming down to cradle your head. Not to push it towards where he wanted you but to have you look up at him and see just how fucking desperate he is for you.

You feel that look go down straight to your core, clenching your legs together at the feeling. “I know baby, I know.” You say in a coo.

Your fingers wrap around him, the pressure of them making George huff in pleasure with his lips pressed together. He feels so heavy in your hand, veins popping for you to see how pained he is.

“You’re so big.” You trail off, a bit of wander in your voice. You have no idea how he’s going to fit in your mouth, he’s by far the biggest cock you have ever come across but you like a challenge.

Your tongue licks a bold strip from base to tip, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you taste the salty arousal that has already been leaking from him. He curses under his breath at the feeling of your wet tongue on his cock, but the breathy words turn into a loud moan when you wrap your lips around him and sink your mouth down onto him.

Barely able to fit half of him in your mouth until he hits the back of your throat, you pull back to catch a breath, your hand taking over for a few seconds as you inhale deeply and go back in. You gag around him when you manage to get him deeper, George moans loudly as you do so, trying his hardest not to buck his hips upwards into your tight throat.

His hand goes back to hold your head but this time, his fingers tangle in your hair, only to pull you up so you can breathe. But you don’t want to have it easy, you want to see how much of him you can take and hear every one of his pretty moans.

So you go against his hold, sinking your mouth further down and gagging around him again. Your hand stays at the base of his cock, stroking the rest you can’t get to, as you continue bobbing your head up and down on him.

George is a mess of groans and moans, whimpering whenever you gag and moan around him, your throat tightening around him driving him insane.

He lifts his head up slightly to look down at you, pulling on your hair so you come off him and meet his eyes. George is met with you panting, pink wet swollen lips, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, tears falling out of the corner of your eyes, hair disheveled but pupils dilated and a satisfied smirk at it all.

Your hand keep stroking him up and down, fingers applying the perfect amount of pressure and he moans at the combination of your touch and the glorious view of you like this, “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

The praise only encourages you more, so you lean back down and lick a strip up his cock again, this time looking up at him through your lashes. An innocent look in your eyes as you lap at the tip of his cock eagerly.

He exhales in awe, “Look at you– Shit!” He curses loudly when you sink slowly back down until again he reaches your throat, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily and making you gag loudly.

You gasp out for air for a mere second before you do it again, until you manage to control your gagging a bit better and encourage George to fuck your mouth with a simple squeeze to his hip.

“Oh fuck– Such a pretty filthy girl.” He praises as he obeys the silent instructions and rocks his hips forwards slowly and ever so slightly. “You like it when I fuck your throat?” His question is thrown out into the air in between groans.

You answer with a hum that vibrates around him and that’s when George starts feeling like he’s losing control. His hips grow erratic and you notice so you hum and moan around him even more, causing him to get closer to his high.

“Y/N/N m’gonna cum!” He warns you loudly, the wet squelching sounds of him going in and out of your mouth and your moans bouncing off the walls in a pornographic symphony that makes the scene even better.

And when your hand drops from around the base of his cock to play with his balls, he’s sent over the edge. He pushes his hips forwards and stills then as he comes, cock twitching in your mouth and his cum coating the walls of your throat with a warmth you appreciated with another low moan.

His hips fall back on the bed but you don’t relent just yet, sucking him off for a little longer to take everything you can. But he has to pull you off him by your hair when he can't take it anymore, cursing and calling out your name like he was scolding you.

“Fucking hell.” He mumbles, still dizzy from his orgasm but completely entranced by the way you come off him with a whimper and a satisfied smirk.

You wipe the drool off your chin with the back of your hand and slowly crawl up until you are laying on your side right beside him, staring right into his eyes with hunger still darkening yours.

“Feel good?” You ask, just what he’d asked you after he made you cum but in a mocking manner.

It gets you a chuckle in response before one of his big hands comes to cup your jaw and crashes your lips together.

Kissing George has you dazed. His lips are soft but firm when moving along with yours, they’re wet and swollen, warm exhales leaving his parted lips for your to swallow, tongue peeking through them to meet yours. He whimpers so loud when he tastes himself on your tongue, fingers digging into your cheek and making you mewl in response.

Your skin grows hot the more you kiss. He doesn’t even let you get a proper breath whenever he pulls back for a brief second, because he’s back on your mouth with desperation—lips smacking and tongues licking at each other.

Your hands go on a path from his face to his head, the back of his neck, his shoulders, and eventually to his back, nails digging into it when he starts nipping at your bottom lip, at the same time as his right hand drops from your jaw down to pinch your nipples, eliciting gasps out of you.

“George…” You let out in a gasp when he has your nipple pinched and twisted between his thumb and index finger.

He’s smirking right over your parted lips, amused at the way you shiver every time he goes from one nipple to the other. Your nails claw at his back when you feel the electric shocks that his touch gives you travel all the way down to your center, feeling yourself growing wetter and that familiar knot in your lower stomach forming.

His lips slot between yours again, distracting you from his touch going from your tits down to tease your cunt.

With his thumb, George starts rubbing circles on your clit, making you pull back from the kiss with a loud gasp that turns into a cry of pleasure. You could feel yourself throbbing already, and it gets worse when he picks up his pace.

He isn’t going too fast but not slow either, the speed in which his thumb rubs at your clit has you writhing your hips in response, subconsciously trying your best to get closer and closer to your high.

“George! Fuck!” You yell when he slides a finger inside you. It’s thick and long, curling inside you and making you see stars already, half lidded eyes catching him smirking at you and his breaths growing shallow when taking in your reactions.

“You like that?” He asks you teasingly, pecking your lips as your face scrunches up in pleasure.

You manage to hum in response, but he finds that not good enough, so he adds another finger, stretching you out easily and making your back arch as you moan loudly. “Yes! Yes!” You encourage, and when he curls his fingers again, knuckle deep inside your cunt, you felt yourself be completely overcome by pleasure and your words slip past your lips without even thinking of them first, “Oh my– Fuck! George, your fingers feel so fucking good.”

His fingers are slipping in and out of you with ease from how wet you are, your hips erratically moving as he thrusts them inside you to meet him in the middle. “That’s it, cum on them baby.”

The dirty talk has you completely fucked over, “George, I’m so– Fuckkkk!” You can’t help but scream out when he pushes a third finger inside you, feeling completely stuffed with him.

It feels so good how much he’s opening you up, and he’s loving the way whenever he pulls his fingers back your walls push him off so he has to slowly sink his fingers deep inside your cunt again. “I know, I can feel you clenching hard around them.” You’re squeezing his fingers so tight, his throat goes dry just thinking about how good you’re gonna feel milking his cock, “Can’t wait to fill you up and feel how tight you’re around my cock baby.”

You agree, so drunk in pleasure you just want to feel even more of him, “I need you. George, I need–”

But he tuts before you can complete your mumbled sentence, “You’re cumming on my fingers first.” You’re about to cry out like a brat, about to beg for him to stuff you up with his big cock but his words beat yours, “Come on baby, give it to me like the good girl you are.”

His voice is low in your ear, so sultry and inviting you feel it deep in your core and you just can’t say no. Not when you’re gonna earn his praise, those words he says that have you wrapped around his little finger.

So you let go. Your toes curl as his fingers keep pumping in and out of you, hitting that spot perfectly for your to see stars as you come, white heat enveloping you and taking ahold of your entire body as you cum, “Fuck, fuck! Oh– George!”

“That’s it, baby. So fucking stunning.” He encourages, watching his fingers continue to disappear inside your tightening cunt, your legs shaking and your hips moving clumsily to meet his hand. He gets impossibly hard at the sight of it all, biting his bottom lip as he moans.

You gush all over him, slick drenching his hand and dripping down your cunt onto the duvet. He can’t let it go to waste, so he pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean, moaning around them when he tastes you again.

So fucking sweet. He needed more.

You feel his fingers gathering your mess and you manage to peel your eyes open to watch as he sucks it all off his fingers again.

Shamelessly, you just watch as he dips down time and time again until he deems his work of cleaning you up done, the last one being offered out to you and you obey enthusiastically, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sinking your mouth on them to suck them clean the best you can. Your eyes stay on his as you do so, moaning loudly around them while you batted your lashes at him, just fully putting a show on for him.

The view makes George’s cock twitch, a bead of precum leaking from his head. He reaches out behind you for the forgotten camera and when you’re trying to catch your breath, eyes closed in bliss, he takes a picture of you.

Your eyes snap open at the sound of the shutter going off and you look at him all startled like you need an explanation.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” He quickly justifies, lifting the device back up to his eyes and adjusting the focus to take another one as he adds, “All fucked out. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Stop.” You whine when the shutter goes off again, hand coming up to grab at the lenses and forcing him to put it down, “I must look a mess.”

His head shakes in disagreement, tongue swiping at his bottom lip with his eyes drinking you in all over again, “You don’t. You look hot.” Skin glowing due to the thin layer of sweat your activities have caused, lips swollen and wet, your chest heaving and flushed, the gorgeous pattern of every bruise he’s sucked on your skin which are darkening more and more, hair disheveled and splayed over the pillows.

“I’m confiscating this.” It’s the brief ultimatum you give him, grabbing the camera and turning the action on him instead.

You take just one picture of him and he allows it, only to then complain by saying, “You have enough of me.” and taking the camera back.

Rolling your eyes, you fake being annoyed and kiss him quickly before pushing yourself up and off the bed, telling him, “Gonna go to the bathroom.” making a beeline for your wardrobe and getting yourself a new pair of underwear first, adjusting the cups of your bra so they hold your breasts again.

It isn’t longer than five minutes that you take, coming back to him wearing his boxers again and laying over the bedsheets—he’s discarded the duvet and left it a big crumpled knot on the floor by the foot of the bed—, a hand behind his head whilst the other is scrolling on his phone.

His position looks inviting, so you crawl on the bed and sit on his lap with a mischievous smile on your face. You reach out to get the camera he has placed on the bedside table at the same time as he drops his phone there and his hands go up to hold your hips.

“Put your hands behind your head again.” You instruct him softly, almost a mutter that sounds so shy, the corner of his lips tug into a smirk.

You take a picture of him like that and another when he runs a hand through his hair but you stop when his hands come back to grab at your skin, going from your waist until they softly come down to rest at your hips.

With a soft squeeze on your sides, he tilts his head to ask, “Am I allowed to smoke?” to which you nod and get off him to open the windows and get him a cigarette and a lighter.

Getting back on top of him, you place the cigarette between his lips but before you can give him the lighter, you grab the camera again just so you can capture the moment he ignites it alive.

George looks so fucking hot lighting it up: cheeks hollowing ever so slightly, brows furrowing, long fingers that make the lighter look minuscule in his hand, lips pursed around the stick.

You snap away and capture the moment he blows out the smoke upwards, before taking another drag and then blowing it in your direction.

The familiar scent of the tobacco and just how arousing you’re finding it all, impulses you to start moving your hips slowly on him. The sudden movement makes his breath hitch in his throat, causing him to erupt in coughs when the smoke goes up the wrong hole. He had been half hard beneath you when you sat on his lap, so you can’t really hold back from wanting to have him in a new way now.

That’s when you guide his hand to your mouth so he can place the cigarette in between your lips for you to take a drag. His mouth opens agape as you do so, the rolling of your hips only growing more intent and he starts twitching and getting harder in his boxers.

He can feel your heat, the way you’re wetting your underwear and starting to wet his own, the pulsing of your swollen clit. He can see how your nipples grow hard through the lace of your bra, and the way goosebumps rise in your skin as you go. Soft gasps that turn into hush whimpers that he wants so badly to turn into those loud moans of yours that he’s quite enjoying getting drunk on.

“Have you brought a condom?” You ask breathlessly, camera being once again forgotten somewhere on the bed for you to be able to rest your hands on his chest as leverage.

A flip switches inside George, the simple hint of him finally being able to sink himself deep inside you making his blood rush down to his cock.

“Yeah.” He nods eagerly and it’s a relief when you quickly get off him so he can rush to get it, not without going up to your dresser so he can put out the cigarette on the ashtray that’s laid there by your jewelry.

He had thought it was foolish of him to pocket a couple condoms before he left his flat earlier today, fully scorning himself for being so ridiculous as to assume you would want to shag after your date but oh was he glad he had still done it right then.

Condom in hand, George goes back to the bed but not without shedding himself off his boxers first. You bite your bottom lip as you get your bra off to throw it on the floor behind you, seeing him wrap his hand around his length and pump it slowly as he watches you almost naked figure. Your hands go down to your hips so you can quickly tug down your underwear, eagerly taking it off and throwing it on the same spot on the floor you had dropped your bra.

Crawling up to the edge of the bed, you hum as you watch him stroke himself up and down, your mouth watering for another taste of him. So when you get right in front of him, you dip your head down until your mouth is right before his hardening cock and sticking your tongue out, you lick at his head slowly.

He grows heavier on your tongue as you go, twitching in your mouth when you wrap your lips around him again, his head thrown back at the feeling of your wet mouth enclosed around him and sucking him off patiently.

But he has to use an incredible amount of self restraint to pull you off him, a hand delicately coming around your neck to have you let go off his cock with a pop and pull you up to face him.

“I’m fucking you now.”

George isn’t asking, he’s simply informing you and that makes you squirm under his gaze in anticipation. Thighs pressing together and eyes drinking in the way lust makes his behavior change. But you want a bit of control, even if it’s just for him to ruin you.

“Can I ride you?” You ask innocently, puppy eyes that you pray will get your a yes.

You take the way he pulls you in for a messy kiss as one.

In no time he’s laying on his back with his head resting on the pillows, teeth ripping the condom wrapper open while your hand wraps around him, waiting for him to put the latex on. The anticipation grows and hangs in the air like a heavy cloud as George rolls it down his length, sighing at the feeling of it around him.

You catch a glimpse of your camera through the corner of your eye and you can’t help but think there won’t be a better thing than capturing his pure ecstasy in a picture so you grab it before you straddle him again.

You lift the camera up to your eyes with one hand while the other gets ahold of his cock to line him up, rubbing his head on your clit and making yourself gasp at the feeling. You clench around nothing as you do so, and you can already feel yourself drenched.

Even after he’s stretched you out with his fingers, it’s slightly challenging for you to take him when you start sinking onto him.

Your jaw drops in a silent gasp when every inch of him starts stretching you out, eyes watering at the initial sting. Your eyes want to flutter closed at the feeling but you do your best to not let them close entirely so you can capture the way he groans loudly with his head thrown back as you let your cunt swallow him whole.

Breath hitching in your throat, you sink down completely until you can feel him so deep a pathetic cry of pleasure slips past your lips.

You draw your hips up and back down on him slowly, testing the waters on his size and what angle is good for you to feel the best. You’re both a mess of loud moans at the feeling. He’s so big, he’s filling you up in a way you’ve never felt before so your walls are clenching hard around him which has his head spinning.

“You–” George breathes out, hands flying to your hips and clutching them so tightly just to show how bad he’s holding himself back from just thrusting up into you, or better yet just flipping you around and fucking you into the mattress.

“Fuck–, I know. I know.” You say in a high pitch tone. One of your hands falls to rest flat on his chest and use as support, “I– oh, fuck…” You curse as you roll your hips forwards and then backwards this time, making you completely still at the insane sensory overdrive you’re getting from it.

George knows you need a second or two but you stay frozen for longer than he can hold so he pleads, “Baby– Fuck, baby, I need you to move, you’re so tight.”

“Just–” You try to say, rolling your hips again and mewling loudly. George moans back in response, his hands sliding down to your thighs as your head hangs in pleasure.

You establish a slow place, George’s fingers digging into the flesh of your upper thighs grounding you into the moment and allowing you to take another picture. A picture that captures your legs on each sides of his toned chest, his fingers digging into your skin, his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps back a moan, the box tattoo on his thumb right next to the red ink of your ‘Divine Feminine’ tattoo on your thigh.

But after you press the shutter on that one, barely being able to clumsily roll the film, you just toss the camera to the side mindlessly and use your new free hand to rest on his chest as well, and the second hand of support helps you start moving your hips faster.

It’s fucking delicious the way he keeps hitting your g-spot from that angle, and when he starts bucking his hips upwards, meeting your in the middle, you can’t hold back the noises you let out. “George, fuck baby! Oh fuckkkk.” You cry out, clit feeling a bit of pressure every time you roll down and hit your pelvis, so you’re fully drunk on pleasure.

His hands run up from your thighs to mercilessly grab your ass, fingers harshly digging into your skin and stinging just in the best way. “Just like that baby. You feel so fucking good.” He praises you with a groan, helping you actually lift your hips up and down on him.

“You’re so– Oh fuck–” You’re so cock drunk, your thoughts are all stupid and leaving you without even being able to finish a sentence.

“Tight little cunt, can barely fit inside you.” George can feel himself meeting the hilt inside you every time, your cries growing in volume the faster the pace gets. “You love it huh, being filled to the brim?”

“Yes, fuck! Yes, I love it, love your cock!” You’re dripping all over him, the noise of the wetness and your skin slapping every time you meet bouncing off the walls and, combined with your moans, makes for a pornographic scene you wish you were recording.

“I know you can go faster. Can you do that for me, baby?” George genuinely can feel himself not lasting any longer with how tight you’re squeezing him.

“I can, I can.” You promise desperately, wanting to be good for him. So you pick up your pace, your hands moving ever so slightly so you can straighten up a bit and when you do so you curse out loud at the new angle, “Ah fuck!”

Your hips grow erratic, your knees helping now when you bounce up and down his cock ever so more intently, enough for you to incessantly gasp in a high pitch every time he hits that spot.

“Such a good girl for me.” His hands stop groping your ass to spank you, making you jolt forward with a loud gasp that turns into a mewl and a whine that tries to pass as a ‘yes’. His cock twitches inside you at that reaction so he does it again and again, feeling your walls flutter around him with every hit, “You're squeezing me so fucking tight, baby. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yeah, yes…” You gasp, and if you hadn’t been so adamant on chasing your high, you would’ve noticed George quickly getting the camera and snapping a picture of you riding him. Hair a mess covering up your face but your mouth wide open in a moan, tits bouncing as you ride him, hands on his chest as support.

He’s just about managed to put the camera back down when he feels you squeezing him the tightest and that’s when you finally cum. “George! George! Ge–” You cry out his name like a prayer until it breaks down into a loud moan that tips him over the edge along with your cunt milking him dry into the condom as you sloppily continue to ride him.

“Fuck! Y/N!” George moans loudly, his hands going to your ass again to help you continue as he cums, his cock twitching the more he spurts into the condom, sweet relief making him see stars.

Unable to uphold yourself any longer, you collapse over him, chests heaving in sync as you both come down from your highs. It’s hard catching your breaths when your skin burns from the heat and sticks from the sweat. And George knows you’re rather uncomfortable from the way you groan into him, your fingers lazily trying to brush the hair out of your face but huffing as it sticks to your sweaty forehead.

He brushes your hair back, fingers delicately grazing your face and earning a soft smile and a sigh from you. But then his hold goes down to your hips so he can lift you up and off himself to set you beside him. You whine and pout at the loss of him, feeling so empty after he’s stuffed you to the brim.

You don’t even try to open your eyes, completely spent from your activities and snuggling into the pillows to find some comfort in your post orgasm haze.

George sits up on the edge of your bed and sheds himself off the condom, tying it so he can throw it away, and groaning as he pushes himself off the bed to make his way to the bathroom.

He takes about five minutes there and when he comes back into the room, he smiles, finding a sleepy you struggling to keep your eyes open and smirking at him. He giggles as he walks up to bed and after taking your camera and placing it on one of the bedside tables, he carries your bridal style to take you to the bathroom.

Yes you’re still on cloud nine after that orgasm but you still have a bit of sense in you then so, after thanking him with a kiss, you tell George you’re alright from there and he can wait for you in bed.

You only realize what you’d said as you wash your hands after peeing and you’re cringing just thinking about him being gone once you go back into the room. But you find that he hasn’t left and instead, he’s gone under the bedsheets and is waiting for you to cuddle up to him so you can get some rest.

You giggle like a fool when you get under the sheets and he hooks his arm around your waist to push you flush against him, your back pressed to his chest and he nuzzles into your neck from behind. Your legs tangle together and your breaths sync and slow down as the minutes go by until you succumb to their slumber.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It’s bright outside when you wake up with the horrendous need to go to the bathroom, one that you’d been sleepily ignoring for a while but that had become too unbearable to endure anymore.

George has his hand around your waist and his leg thrown over yours, effectively keeping you trapped in his hold in bed, so you try to very slowly peel yourself away from him to escape to the toilet.

You’re careful so that you don’t wake him up just yet, but when you manage to get your legs untangled from his, he stirs and grumbles, “Where are you trying to go?” throwing his leg over yours again, his arm wrapping tighter around your waist making you chuckle.

“Bathroom.” You mumble as you try to get away again but he’s stubbornly holding you even tighter to him.

You feel him shake his head as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, a soft “No.” falling in your ears that makes you sigh.

“George.” You say softly to not disrupt the silence in the room, but he doesn’t reply so you try again a little louder this time, “George.” Once again, no response, so you end up whining, “Babyyyy.”

To the nickname he does listen, but his response is just a muttered, “Mhm?”

You turn around in his arms with a bit of struggle, cupping his face and pecking his lips a handful of times so he takes it as enough bribery to listen to you, “Please let me go. I’ll just be a minute.”

George steals one last long peck from you before smiling loopily and nodding, “Okay.”

He lazily retracts his limbs to let you get up freely from the bed, and though he’s fighting his sleep, he manages to peel his eyes open for long enough to watch your naked figure walk away from the bed and into your ensuite.

Keeping track of time is impossible to him when his eyes close again after you leave his line of sight, and he only opens his eyes again when he hears you giggle softly at the sight of him in your bed as you walk back to bed.

“You took longer than a minute.” He points out with his eyes still closed.

You snort and half heartedly apologize, “Sorry, I’m sore.”

His hand comes up to rub at his eyes, and when he does so, he sees the state in which you’ve come back so he frowns and tells you to, “Stop right there.” He sounds so serious, an amused smirk shows on your face because you have no idea what he’s about to say. An accusing finger waves in the air in your direction and he calls you out, “Why are you wearing a robe?”

“Shut up.” You say instantly when hearing that’s what is making him frown, your eyes rolling playfully at him.

“Get that off now.” He instructs but you take another step towards the bed with no intention of taking it off and he grumbles, “Y/N/N…” with a more stern tone that makes you too flustered for this time of day.

“You’re annoying.” You complain with a roll of your eyes, still listening to him and slowly undoing the knot that kept your robe closed, making it a little show as you open it up and let it fall off your body and pool at your feet on the floor.

Of course, George smirks at the sight and he has no shame in looking you up and down with hunger now shining on his sleepy eyes, his cock twitches just by seeing you naked in front of him again. Fuck, you’re stunning.

“Come here gorgeous.” The drummer invites you back into his arms and you don't have to be told twice for you to go back to bed and be the little spoon for him. You’d had such good sleep being completely enveloped in him, heavy limbs acting like a weighted blanket on you and it was utter bliss.

But after seeing you naked again, skin littered with love bites he had left all over your, hair messy and tits perky and bouncing as you walked, George feels the need to show you a bit more of the appreciation he had shown you the day before.

His hand brushes your hair to the side so he can have access to the skin on the back of your neck. Goosebumps breaking on the skin there when he starts pressing open mouthed kisses on it, fingers ghostly running down your back and stopping right on your lower back that had your back arching into him. Your ass grazed his cock every time, making it twitch and start to harden.

In search of friction, he pushes his hips forward and you reciprocate by pressing your ass against him. He keeps his actions going and sets a pace that the two of you keep up, mewling out loud when his hardening cock comes in contact with your cunt, “Hmm, George.”

“Yes, baby?” His lips brush against your skin, a shiver running down your spine and making you shudder, “You’re so fucking beautiful, please let me make you feel good.”

“Yeah…” You nod quickly, it’s a no-brainer. Your breath gets caught in your throat when he pushes his hips forwards again at the same time as you do and the tip of his cock presses on your clit.

“Yes?” He moans in your ear, hand coming around your front to play with your tits, “Can I make you cum again, sweetheart?”

You eagerly nod, swallowing a moan as he pinches your nipple and when he cup your whole tit with one hand, kneading it harshly, your “Please.” came out in the form of a whine.

“Good girl. M’gonna make you feel so good baby, I promise.” His hand continues playing with your tits as you keep grinding on each other. When his cock is hard enough, you feel it come up to rest heavily between his lower stomach and your lower back, and it’s then that he lets his fingers trail down until they hover over your mound and he breathlessly asks, “D’you trust me?”

“Yeah, George…” You’re basically pleading with him to continue, hand coming to clutch his and guide his fingers down to your soaked cunt and when he feels just how wet you are, he groans and pulls away.

“Wait.” George instructs you, leaving you alone on the bed to get a condom. You hear the wrapper rip and him moaning as he puts the condom on, stroking himself up and down a few times before he tugs the sheets off you and turns you from your side to your front so you’re face down and he can hover over you from behind.

His knees are on either side of your hips, forearms pressed on the mattress next to your shoulders and he kisses and sucks all over your back as he praises you for how gorgeous you are over and over.

He keeps bruising you up until you push your ass up and beg him to do something, the ache in your cunt too unbearable.

So George lets go of the patch of skin he’s bruising and does as you ask for, spreading your legs open as he kneels in between them and rubs his tip up and down your slit.

“Don’t tease, please.” You cry into the mattress, your cunt fluttering around nothing and it’s painful knowing just how good he felt inside you but he isn’t allowing you to feel it yet.

But then he just let himself slowly slip inside you and his jaw falls at your tightness in that angle, “Oh Y/N/N… Fuck me.” He feels like he can barely fit in, but you’re dripping with slick so it makes it a bit easier for him to slowly bottom out.

“George–” You choke out, head turning to the side to catch a glimpse of him. Your fingers clawing at the sheets beside your head for dear life.

“I know. You’re so tight.” He whimpers in pleasure, barely able to move an inch out of you because you’re so snug it feels like you’re pushing him out.

“Move baby, please.” You beg again and he starts going then, a slow pace at first that grows in speed rather quickly and has your cursing out loud, “Fuckkkkk!”

He gasps into your ear with every thrust, and it’s soon that the sound of your skin slapping drowns the room along with your moans. “Gonna miss this tight little cunt so much.” He says into your neck, sucking a bruise on the back of it before asking, “Gonna miss me too?”

“Ye– Yes! Oh shit baby!” You gasp when he hooks his left arm under your leg, pulling it upwards slowly and allowing you to stretch a bit more so you feel him even deeper, “Gonna miss you so much!”

He chuckles smugly, “I know you will.”

“Oh fuck!” You curse as he hits your g-spot perfectly from that angle, his hips hitting your ass and reminding you of how sore the skin there is from the spanking he gave you the night before. “Yes, yes! Don’t stop, please!”

“If you could only see yourself right now!” He curses under his breath when he looks down to see himself disappear into your cunt, over and over. If he keeps looking at how he keeps sliding in and out of you so easily, he will burst right then so he looks back up to your face and praises you once more, “Taking me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

“Harder, please.” You ask in a whine, and he stills for just a second to get a better standing on his knees before giving it to you like you were begging to, making you instantly get even louder when he hits that sweet spot with more intensity, “Oh my– Fuck! Right there, yes!”

“Just like that, yeah?” His smirk grows on his face, feeling how it keeps getting easier to slide inside you which means you’re fucking drenched and dripping all over him, your walls fluttering around him already making him see stars.

“Yes! Yes!” You chant like a broken record, the coil in your lower stomach tightening by the second and threatening to snap at any moment, “I’m so close!”

His left arm lifts your leg even higher and then leaves it there to be able to bring his fingers down to rub at your clit and send you over the edge, “C’mon baby, cum for me sweetheart!” He encourages you as he rubs fast circles on your throbbing clit, which earns him choked out moans that turn into a throat ripping moan of, “F-fuckkkk! George!”

George feels you squeeze him so tightly as you cum, making it so much harder for him to continue thrusting in and out without losing the rhythm he’s set, he can’t hold it any longer, his hips stuttering as he cums and stilling as he spills his seed in the condom, “Ah shit! Y/N!”

His thrusts become sloppy and messy as he tries to ride out your highs while you spasm around him, whimpering as the aftershocks of your orgasm have your legs trembling under him and your white knuckle grip on the sheets falters.

Letting his weight fall over you almost entirely, George sighs in complete bliss and he kisses the back of your head and your cheek multiple times to say, “Did so good for me, sweetheart.” He drops a kiss on your lips and praises you once more, “My good pretty girl.”

The way he speaks to you makes your stomach flutter, and he feels it when you clench around him. “You like that huh?” He teases with a smirk, his nose brushing up your neck until he comes up to your ear and bites your earlobe to which you mewl in response.

He pulls out, hearing you whine when you feel upsettingly empty again but he rubs circles on your hips soothingly and asks, “Shall we go take a shower? Do you want me to help you up?”

You barely manage to reply with a quiet, “Mhm…” when a loud ringing snaps the two of you out of your wonderful post orgasm bubble.

You don’t really recognize the ringing so you figure it’s George’s phone. Yet, the drummer doesn’t make an attempt to go and get it, as he flops beside you in bed for a second before pushing himself off the bed and sheds himself off the condom you just used.

He gets up to discard it in the bathroom and just as he crosses the threshold of the ensuite, he hears his phone start ringing again. He fully ignores it again, taking his time in the bathroom until he hears you call out for him to pick up the unrelenting calls.

A grunt leaves his lips when he comes back to the room and picks up the phone only to read his sister’s name on the screen so he answers with a meek, “Y’alright?” to let her know he isn’t in the mood for the constant ringing.

You hear pure silence surrounding you for a good half minute before George sighs out an annoyed, “Fucks sake.” Opening your eyes to see him, you move onto your side to watch him as he speaks. “Right now? Really?” He asks, entirely unamused. “Yeah, really busy actually.” He says sternly, looking at you naked in front of him with wide eyes. That makes you purse your lips not to laugh but what gets the giggles out of you is when he sighs loudly and mutters, “I hate you.” to whoever it is on the phone.

It’s barely another half minute that he listens to whoever is on the other side, before he ends the call with an impatient, “Yeah, yeah. Sure. See ya’.”

“What’s wrong?” You ask curiously, your fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

George rolls his eyes at the situation, “My sister needs me for something. She says it’s urgent but I doubt it.” He shrugs then, ignoring the importance of whatever it was his sister needed him for, he had only been half listening really. “I can stay though, it wouldn’t be the first time I ignore her.”

That has you snorting in laughter, “Go, you idiot.”

“But–” He tries to argue as he comes to hover over you, head dipping to steal a kiss out of you which you break after a few seconds by pushing his shoulders softly so you can reassure him it’s fine. After all, you had really enjoyed yourself so you’re genuinely considering another date with him.

“It’s okay. I had the best time with you, and that’s all I wanted.” Your hands come to the back of his head, fingers digging into the hair at the nape of his neck and scratching his scalp softly.

George clicks his tongue and he pouts to joke, “Knew you only wanted me for my body.”

You cackle at his antics and tell him to “Shut up.” only to do it yourself by pulling him into you so you can share one last kiss. It’s sweet but it isn’t soft, your lips moving together with intent as if to prove you need to do it again because it’s just too good.

But you have to stop it before it can turn into something more. You pull on his hair so your lips separate with a smack and, with the sweetest smile and looking at him with doe eyes, you say, “Thank you, George.”

“I had the best time Y/N/N.” He replies wholeheartedly then, agreeing with your previous point.

“Me too.” You nod softly to reiterate, your hands coming back down to cup his jaw, thumbs rubbing circles on his skin.

One last short kiss is all you get in that bed before you both stand up and get dressed. Well, George does, in the same getup as the day before, while you put your robe back on and tie it around yourself slowly as he finishes getting his shoes on.

“I’ll see you soon for a second date, yeah?” He says when you walk him to the door, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You definitely will.” You assure, knowing you’d be texting him very soon about a second date if he doesn’t text you first about it.

He winks right as he opens the door, stealing one last peck from your lips before walking away. Leaving you with a stupid smile on your face that only gets bigger when you close the door behind you and go back to your room, seeing the mess you had left the bed looking like.

Yes, you were definitely going on a second date with him.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: What did you think? Hope you lot enjoyed it! Thank you for reading, I'm so excited to see your reactions! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @drinkurkombucha @vinylandcoffeecollection @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

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reds-fluff-extravaganza · 9 months ago

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Castlevania Alucard x necromancer!reader

Requested over on ao3!

You and Alucard have been friends since childhood, always spending time together playing little games and occasionally getting into a bit of trouble, you more so than Alucard, but he would always be there for you and vice versa, always covering for each other.

Over time, you had developed feelings for the half vampire, but you didn’t really think much of it since you were afraid to ruin your friendship, that he wouldn’t feel the same way for his best friend. That is, until you got to your teenage years, and a certain event had caused both of your lives to change, one which caused Dracula to go on a rampage.

When you found out that Alucard was going to try fighting his father on his own, you were absolutely terrified of what would happen and you tried to stop him, but nothing you did would stop him, telling you that he had to stop his father no matter what, and the next thing you knew, he was gone. You knew he wasn’t dead, but you had no idea where your friend had disappeared to.

In his outrage, Dracula had given you necromancy magic, which you didn’t understand why he would do something like that since you were just a simple human. Maybe it was because you were his son’s best friend? You had no idea, but you knew there was no way you were going to be able to reason with him, so you just did what you had to, even if you didn’t really want to.

It started out with just creating soldiers for Dracula’s army with your necromancy magic, which you despised, but you had to so you could keep yourself alive. It wasn’t ideal, but you knew Alucard would be back, you knew he wasn’t gone.

However, after Dracula’s demise, which you weren’t around for, you felt like you were finally free, except for the fact that you were still cursed with the necromancy magic, which you had sworn to not use again unless absolutely necessary. Now your main concern was finding Alucard. You’ve been searching for a while now, getting tips and suggestions from the locals who have seen him.

“Have you thought about checking the giant castle in the woods? I saw a man of that description hanging around there.” You heard a man tell you. Giant castle? No way, he couldn’t be talking about Dracula’s castle… but seeing as it was your only lead right now, you figured you could go and check it out. You thanked the man and made your way to the nearby woods, looking for the castle you were dreading to see. Which didn’t take long, as it would be difficult to miss a giant castle in the woods.

As you got closer to the castle, however, you spot several people around, and they looked to be… building something, but you were too far away to tell what it was. Confused, you got even closer, but stopped as you spot a familiar blonde haired male.

“Alucard..” you said just above a whisper, not even noticing the tears that were welling up in your eyes until they were ready to fall.

“Alucard!” You called out, making your way over to him.

“That voice.. no, it can’t be..” he turned to face you, and when he realized it was you, he just couldn’t believe it. You were still alive! After just standing there for a moment, the shock had worn off and he started making his way over to you, meeting you in the middle as you hugged him and him immediately returning the hug, holding you close to him.

“I knew you were still alive..” you mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear you.

“I am. I wasn’t going to just leave you alone, Y/n.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.. but there is a lot of catching up to do, you know?”

“Of course.” Alucard seemed a little reluctant to let you go from the hug, but ends up taking your hand into his own.

“Let’s go elsewhere.” You nodded and followed after him, a faint smile on your face as you wiped your tears away.

The next few hours consisted of you two playing catch up, you telling him what happened after his first fight either Dracula, how he had cursed you with necromancy magic, and what not, while he told you of his travels with Trevor and Sypha. You were actually a little jealous of his adventures, but you kept it to yourself. You were honestly just glad to see that he was still alive, and you were back together again.

“Y/n.” You were brought back from your thoughts as Alucard said your name.

“Yes?”

“I must confess something, if I may?”

“Sure, you can tell me anything, Alucard.” You were a little curious to what he had to say.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this so long ago, but I never had the chance to, because I was too stupid to not listen to you..” he took a breath, taking your hands into his own.

“Y/n… I know we’ve been friends since we were both children, but as we grew up together, I had gained feelings for you, and I was afraid that you would never feel that way towards me, but now that we’ve found each other again, I don’t ever want to let you go again.”

“Oh Alucard..” You pulled him into a tight hug and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, which caught him off guard, but he hugged you back, holding you close to him once more.

“I feel the same way, I always have. I was just so afraid of telling you… but when you disappeared I regretted not telling you sooner… I do love you, Alucard, and I don’t want to be without you again.”

“Y/n… I’m so glad you feel the same way, and I’m so sorry for making you worry about me like that.”

“It’s okay, just… don’t do that again, please.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.” You smiled faintly.

“I suppose we should head back outside and inform the others.”

“Oh they can wait for a while. I just want to be with you for a little while longer, if that’s okay.” Alucard chuckled softly and kissed your forehead softly, nodding in response,

“Sure.”

“If they need us, they can look for us.” And it was true. Now that you’ve found Alucard again, you weren’t going to be letting him go for a while, and he wasn’t going to let you go either.

#castlevania #castlevania anime #sfw #alucard #castlevania alucard #alucard/reader #alucard x reader #castlevania alucard/reader #castlevania alucard x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff #fluff oneshot #x reader oneshot #oneshot

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year ago

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i'm here (george karim x reader)

a/n: @ettadear and @neewtmas this one is for you guys teehee. it's not overly long, but it got me out of my writing slump :) this went through a multitude of different forms (my favourite version ended up not working out very well but I'll incorporate it into something else) but i hope you enjoy it!

warnings: none words: 827 taglist: @waitingforthesunrise @aayeroace @locklylemybeloved @gotlostinfiction @mirrorballdickinson @mischiefmanaged71 @magicandmaybe

gn reader

You’re not sure when you started coming out into the back garden.

The grass tickles your ankles, swaying softly in the breeze. It really needs cut, but nobody ever has time or energy for it. Maybe you’ll do it this week. Maybe not. Maybe you’ll just say how the garden needs a tidy and make no move to do it.

It’s barely morning. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, but here you stand, staring at the slowly lightening sky as if it’ll bring you the solace you so desperately crave. You could talk to your friends, reach out to them for help, but the thought of bothering – burdening – them when so much is always going on makes you feel incredibly guilty. You’re not even sure they’ve realised your morning habits now.

What exactly is wrong? You’ve no clue, only that you’ve felt a hollow ache in your very soul for what has to be weeks now. It could be homesickness. It could be some horrible, unsolicited feeling of isolation and loneliness. It could be a multitude of things and, even still, you can’t figure it out.

The ghost lamps in the streets beyond are flickering off by the time the back door creaks open.

Confused, you turn to find George standing on the patio, looking up at the sky. His hair is messy, likely from sleep, and he’s dressed in some funny patterned pyjama bottoms and a thick hoodie, shivering in the crisp morning air.

“You okay?” you ask, frowning.

“Trying to figure out why you could possibly want to wake up so early and stand outside in the cold.” His gaze falls from the sky, landing on you instead as he makes his way over, kicking an apple out of the way. “We should collect the apples this year instead of tripping over them.”

A soft laughs escapes your lips. “We should. I’m sure you’ve got an apple pie recipe somewhere in one of those books of yours.”

He stops next to you, and he’s close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin without even touching. Is that the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, or is there someone just stomping really loudly in one of the nearby houses?

“You’ve been upset lately.”

“No, I’ve not.”

George gives you a look. “You’ve been quieter. Your section of the thinking cloth hasn’t had any new and wonderful additions. Oh, and you’ve been coming out here every morning for the past two weeks.”

Your face feels awfully warm. “Have you been watching me?”

“Yes,” he says with a shrug. “And the floorboard outside my bedroom creaks whenever you’re coming down in the mornings.”

It’s an effort not to look at him when he says that what with how he just so easily admitted to taking note of the things you’ve been doing. Or rather, not been doing. And, although it’s for a reason that isn’t exactly ideal, it brings a little flutter into your chest. You can’t remember the last time someone paid such close attention to you.

“So?” he prompts. “You know you can talk to me.”

You know you can, but you’re not even sure yourself of what’s wrong. “I know. I just… It’s hard to put my finger on what it is exactly, you know?”

He nods and, it could very well be a figment of your imagination, but you’re sure he shuffles an inch closer until your shoulders are almost touching. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, watching for any hints of what could be wrong. Because that’s what George does. George, the boy who searches and searches for the tiniest details. George, who is relentless when on the hunt for information. George, who, despite it all, knows not to push you on a topic you don’t want to talk about. George, who –

Who is reaching for your hand and slipping his fingers in between yours.

His touch comes as a shock. Usually, he rejects any kind of physical touch whenever he can, preferring the comfort of his own skin to anyone else’s. But there’s his hand in yours. His pulse beating almost in time with yours between your palms. His hand is warm and soft, and the touch alone has your heart racing.

“I’m here for you, remember,” he says softly.

You’re sure your hand is horribly clammy, but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he squeezes it as you look at him, offering a small smile. A smile tugs the corners of your lips upwards in some meagre attempt to show him how grateful you are.

Truthfully, you’re not sure he really knows how much this means to you. Him reaching out to you. Him paying attention to the little things you were sure nobody had noticed. His touch.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

And, when your head comes to rest on his shoulder, he leans his against it, squeezing your hand again.

#george karim x reader #george karim fanfiction #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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k1ckback · 2 years ago

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HEY THIS IS KIND OF SPECIFIC BUT CAN YOU DO THE GANGS REACTION TO A READER WHO IS USUALLY SERIOUS AND DOESNT EXPRESS MUCH, BUT THEN KINDA BREAKS DOWN AND STARTS VIOLENTLY SOBBING IN FRONT OF THEM?? THANK YOU HEHEEHE

OHOHO I can. keep it coming with requests anon, because hyper specific stuff is my favorite to write tbh

Went with Reagan, Brett, Ron and Andre for this! (Sorry JR fans i’m saving him for special occasion)

Reagan

- her first reaction is shock, she hesitates to touch you at first, wanting to make sure she doesn’t overwhelm you. - she has.. a confusing time with people’s emotions, but it’s you. “Hey.. what’s wrong?”

- she’d take your hand in hers, rubbing the back of it mindfully. modeling breathing techniques they sprung on her in anonymous anonymous. - cooing the only words of comfort she can think of, all of her thoughts cease when you wrapped your arms around her. she froze for a few seconds, before returning it. - she’s always struggled with repressing her own emotions, but this had been a long-time coming. she pondered how you’d managed this long without any outburst. she rubbed your back haphazardly, and listened to you with shaky breaths try to explain the source of this. - “I’m glad you told me” was her first response, “I know it feels like it sometimes, but you don’t have to handle this by yourself. promise.”

- the type to let you vent to her and than will take you out to get food, because talking about emotions is exhausting - expect her to be a little more vigilant when it comes to your emotions though.

Brett

- his first instinct is to smother you, “what’s wrong love? did something happen? can I hug you?” all of his concern poured out into his words, waiting for you to give something of a nod before wrapping his arms around you - if you need a minute to cry it out, he’s all for it. expect him to rub your back and just listen.

- he might cry a bit himself, (he’s on the higher empathy side of autism I don’t make the rules, me too brett) - that being said, anything you got going on? he’s in it with you. if this is caused by a certain person? expect him to have some stern words for them, if it’s at a situation? he won’t stop until he can help you figure it out.

- he usually keeps a panic attack kit on him at work, so he won’t hesitate to get you a fidget if needed. he understands how hard it can be to come down from sobbing like that. when you’ve calmed down to a certain point, he takes your hand in his.

- “I want you to know i’m happy you shared this, and I care about you. I promise we’ll figure this out together okay?” every bit of his reassurance seems to be nothing but believable.

- if the two of you are at home when this happens? expect to be cuddled and practically worshipped until you feel better.. if you’re at work, he’s taking you to his office to wait out the anxiety-attack hangover.

Ron - “honey, ” his hands find your face quickly. wiping your tears with his thumbs. “hey, what’s going on?” he waits for you to find the words. a patient frown dawning his lips. - straight to reassurance. “everything’s gonna be alright, I promise” - he’s not happy that this is happening, but he is a little relieved that he’s finally seen you showing some of your emotions, he just worries you don’t feel comfortable around him sometimes. (Despite this obviously not being true)

- “I’m here to listen.” he reassures. as the initial tears and your breathing start to slow, he’ll start to listen to the situation, and throughout it expect him to be nodding all the way. he just wants to make sure you know he’s listening. - and really, he is. if you need help trying to fix a problem? this guys there, if you just need to talk for a little bit, he’s always up to listen. he just wants to see you happy. - that being said, he’s happy the two of you could talk at this level. there’s something of a bond that comes from it.

- expect him to start checking up on you more, especially just asking if you need to rant to anyone. coworker problems? parking ticket? ranting family member? he’s practically heard it all.

- he’d ask you to go watch movies after this, I don’t make the rules. he might even take the day off for it.

Andre

- he might immediately worry he did something wrong, but when he figures out this is an entirely different problem, he’s doing everything he can to help you calm down (he’s definitely had his own panic attacks before though, so he already has a few ideas in mind)

- he reaches for a hug, wrapping his arms around you with a soft sigh. “I’ve got you. I promise.” He hums out, letting you sob into his shoulder.

- the crying doesn’t last very long, and within a couple minutes, your breath’s feel somewhat full again. your hands though continue to shake in Andre’s grasp, and he doesn’t let up on tracing your palm.

- after a bit of talking, mostly andre listening (with the occasional verbal profanity at the absurd-mess of a situation) he starts to understand your apprehension to leave that facade you put on for work. he definitely knew someone was under there, but he realized this might be his first time meeting them.

- he’s generally the most down to earth out of the group when it comes to mental health stuff. he has nowhere to judge. so by all means, if his partners having trouble with it? he’s all ears. sometimes having someone to just listen to you can go a long way. he really cares about you, and he knows you’d do it for him.

- “we’ll figure this out; we won’t stop until it’s fixed.” His hand squeezed yours; and his eyes finally met yours: anything about his expression could’ve easily convinced you of his intentions.

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stardustshelb · 1 year ago

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"Late Checkout" - Danny One Shot

18+. TW: Language & Sexual Content. Your name (female) + Danny. 9,544 words.

Part One

“Mr. Henry, I requested tomorrow off months ago,” you said as you shakily held this week’s work schedule in your hands. You had a good relationship with your boss since you’ve been one of the most reliable employees at the hotel for several years. You looked up to him as a father figure and old friend most days, but you suddenly wanted to strangle him after seeing he scheduled you to work on the one day you asked off.

“I’m sorry but I need you manning the front desk,” your boss said, not looking up from the computer screen.

“I have a concert tomorrow night. I can’t work,” you said, fighting the lump forming in your throat. You had been looking forward to this day for months and you were not about to let anything or anyone get in the way of that.

“That’s exactly why I need you. The hotel is completely sold out tomorrow because of the concert. It will be all hands on deck,” he said, still avoiding your eye contact.

“I can’t miss that concert,” you said in a stern tone.

“Fine. Let’s make a compromise. Can you stay until after the check-in rush? You could leave around 6:00 p.m.,” he added.

“That doesn’t give me enough time to get ready,” you plead.

“I’m trying to make this work for us both. I know you need the extra hours and I know you can handle the influx of guests we’re anticipating,” he said.

“That’s true, but–” you began.

“If I can get you out of here any sooner, I will,” he said, interrupting you. You start to go through the timeframe in your head. If you brought your concert outfit and cosmetics to the hotel, you could get ready in the breakroom. The distance between the hotel and the arena wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes depending on how fast you could get an Uber. The opener goes on at 7:30 p.m., but you didn’t care if you had to miss part of their set.

“As long as I am clocked out by 6:00 p.m., I can swing it,” you said with a sigh.

“I know I can always rely on you,” your boss said with a smile. “Who’s the band again?”

“Greta Van Fleet,” you said. Your boss’ puzzled expression made it clear he had no idea who they were.

“I don’t know what you kids today listen to,” he said as he waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly. “But since you’re helping me out by working tomorrow, I’ll fill you in on a secret.” He leaned in closely and lowered his voice. “Did you notice anything peculiar about the room reservations on the top floor?”

You hadn’t paid much attention to which rooms were occupied today since you clocked in; when you saw your name on the work schedule for tomorrow, that took precedence. You logged into your front desk computer and scanned the booking information for the 8th floor. You noticed every room was booked under the same reservation number. Yet, there were no guest names assigned to any of the rooms. As if your boss could sense your confusion, he leaned in closer.

“That band is staying here,” he whispered. You felt your eyes grow wide as if he just admitted his deepest, darkest secret. You turned to face him with a wild look in your eyes. You whispered, “Are you serious?”

“Their people called months ago and requested a private entrance, booked the entire floor; the whole thing was hush hush,” he said as he mimed an imaginary zipper sealing his lips.

You suddenly felt yourself begin to sweat in places you didn’t know could sweat. “When will they get here?” you asked.

“They are set to check in around noon today, and they will check out the day after tomorrow,” he said in a hushed voice. “I’ve got our best housekeeping staff assigned to their floor as well as our kitchen staff on standby in case they order room service. But only you and I know who our special guests really are,” he said with a wink. You hated your boss 10 minutes ago; now you wanted to kiss him. You glanced at the clock and noticed noon was less than an hour away.

“I am asking, begging, pleading–” you began with your hands clasped together. “Mr. Henry, please, please, please, let me be the one to deliver any extra towels, sheets, blankets, toiletries, whatever they need. Please,” you said.

“You aren’t even scheduled to work tonight,” he said with a laugh.

“I can. I can absolutely work tonight,” you said, continuing to beg.

“I’ll keep you as long as I need you, but no promises,” he said. Without much thought, you wrapped your arms around your boss in an embrace to thank him. He nervously laughed before patting you on top of the head. He was clearly uncomfortable by this sudden display of affection.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said.

“I won’t!” you exclaimed as you released him from your grateful hug. The idea of potentially meeting the members of your favorite band made you feel lightheaded. You gripped the desk to make sure you weren’t going to pass out.

“I’ll need you to stay here at the front desk while I meet them around back to escort them to their rooms. They’ll be using the service elevator to enter and exit the building. They won’t mingle with the hotel guests at all,” he said. You couldn’t help but to feel bummed that you wouldn’t be part of the welcoming committee, but you decided not to push your luck. You knew you’d find a reason to go up to their floor one way or another.

You practically watched the clock as it took its time to get to 12:00 p.m. You had already taken a smoke break AKA a break to go freshen up your hair and makeup before the boys checked in. Mr. Henry knew you didn’t smoke, but he didn’t object when you asked for a smoke break. He knew exactly what you were up to.

Even though you weren’t going to be the one greeting them, you still didn’t want to risk not looking your absolute best. Well, as good as anyone could look in a work uniform. You glanced down at your khaki pants and your light blue polo neatly tucked in. This uniform certainly wasn’t doing your figure any favors. As you helped the line of guests checking out for the day, you saw Mr. Henry step away to take a private phone call. Was it them? Were they here? You struggled to pay attention to the guest in front of you because all you could think about was the idea of meeting the four men who changed your life. Breathe, you idiot.

“I’m going to assist our top floor guests. Call my phone if you have any issues. I’ll be back shortly,” Mr. Henry said to you in a hushed voice. You felt like all of the oxygen in the hotel lobby left with him as he went out the door.

“Ma’am?” the man in front of you with tired eyes said.

“Yes?” you asked, suddenly aware of where you were.

“Can I get another copy of my bill, please?” he said as if he had already asked you once. Maybe he did. Your mind was elsewhere.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you said as you moved the mouse to print the tired guest a copy of his bill. A short line formed behind him and you tried everything in your power to focus on your job and not the idea that Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam would be sleeping in rooms that you have access to. Wait, that sounded creepy. You’re not creepy. You’re just freaking the fuck out. Chill.

When Mr. Henry made it back to the front desk, you practically jumped on him. “What were they like? What were they wearing? Were they nice? What rooms are they in? Do they need anything? Who did you talk to? Did they make any requests?” you asked in a rapid-fire fashion.

“Relax, relax,” he said with his hands up like he was bracing himself for impact.

“Tell me everything!” you exclaimed.

“The ones wearing sunglasses and hats are the ones in the actual band, I presume. They are in rooms 808, 809, 810, and 811. Their management people are occupying rooms on the other side of the hallway per the famous ones’ requests. The rooms in between are vacant, but booked to maintain privacy, of course,” he said. You burned the numbers 808, 809, 810, and 811 into your brain as you listened to Mr. Henry talk.

“I gave them my cell phone number in case they need anything, so don’t hold your breath that they’ll be calling the front desk,” he said.

“Mr. Henry,” you whined.

“They seem to want total privacy, young lady,” he said pointing his finger at you. You sighed and rolled your eyes at his response.

“That being said…” he began. “I will let you know if they need anything,” he added with a wink.

Part Two

“You know your shift ended 34 minutes ago,” Mr. Henry said as he walked up to you at the front desk.

“Oh, did it?” you asked nonchalantly. Normally you’d be clocking out the second your scheduled time ended, but now you had a reason to stay. The guys checked in four hours ago but no sign of them… yet.

“I can keep you on into the next hour, but then I’ll need you to clock out. You can linger here if you want, but I can’t pay you for it,” he said.

“Yes sir,” you said. Just then you saw the front desk phone light up with a room number that made your heart stop. You stared at the phone, stunned as if it suddenly grew legs.

“Answer it!” Mr. Henry commanded to break you from your trance.

“Hello?” You said in a panic, totally forgetting the customary front-desk-speech you’re supposed to recite each time you answer the phone.

The familiar voice belonging to the man in room 809 said, “Hello. Um, I know this is a strange request, but I was wondering if you could recommend the best local florist to me?” Oh great, he’s sending flowers to his girlfriend.

“Yes, yes, I can compose a list of our best local florists and deliver it to your room, Mr.—?” you ask.

“Wagner,” the voice answered. It was Danny, but you already knew that. You recognized his sweet, sultry voice immediately.

“Yes, Mr. Wagner,” you said, trying to keep the squeal out of your voice. “I’ll personally deliver this list to your room shortly.”

“Thanks, you’re an angel,” he said before hanging up. You hung up the front desk phone and took a deep breath. Did that really just happen?

“I’ll personally deliver this to your room shortly,” Mr. Henry mocked you in a high pitched voice.

“I’m just honoring our guest’s request,” you said while sticking your tongue out. You turned your attention to your computer and opened a new tab to start researching the local florists. Surely Danny knew how to use Google… Why in the world would he need to call the front desk of a hotel for something like this? Oh well. You weren’t going to question it because now you had a reason for making your way up to their floor.

You finished compiling a list of local florists, sorting them from highly rated to lowest, and hit print. You grabbed a mint from the bowl on the counter–that of course was intended for guests only–and reapplied your lip gloss before grabbing the list off the printer.

“Mr. Henry, I’m delivering this to our guest in room 809,” you said with a smirk. You made your way to the elevator and reminded yourself to take steady breaths as you hit the number 8 button. As the elevator moved up, you felt your stomach grow heavier. Relax. As if you had to command your legs to move, you forced yourself to walk through the open elevator doors. The short distance to room 809 now seemed to be a million miles away. Hoping your sweaty palms didn’t dampen the list of florists, you approached Mr. Wagner’s room and mustered up the courage to knock. As if your knuckles were made of glass, you lightly knocked on his door and waited for him to answer. Alas, the door opened and there in front of you stood a Greek God who came to Earth. You couldn’t believe he was actually there standing in front of you.

“Mr. Wagner, here is your requested list of the best local florists,” you stammered, wondering if you stumbled over any of your words in the process. You had no idea if the words that came out of your mouth were English. Hell, maybe you didn’t even speak at all.

“There’s my angel,” he said with a smile as he reached for the list in your hands. His fingers lightly grazed yours unintentionally, or was it? You watched his eyes move across your chest, surely just eyeing your nametag. “My sister’s birthday is tomorrow, so I’m needing a bouquet of daisies delivered to the venue,” he added as if to answer your unspoken question of why he would need a florist.

“Daisies?” you asked.

“Her favorite flower,” he said with a soft smile.

“She has great taste. That’s very kind of you,” you said while biting your lip to hide a relieved smile. “Is there anything else I can assist you with today, Mr. Wagner?”

“Please call me Danny,” he said with a nervous laugh.

“Mr. Wagner, I–” you began.

“Danny,” he interrupted. You stood there tight-lipped. You knew it was part of your job to always address guests formally, but you also knew that Danny would correct you every single time.

“Mr. Danny Wagner,” you said, finding a loophole, “is there anything else I can assist you with this afternoon?”

“Yes, actually,” he said. “Since I have you here, could you recommend what I should order for dinner?”

“Yes, of course. We have two wonderful restaurants on property that provide in-room service. Menus for both should be located on your dresser. Personally, I recommend the steak frites or the ahi tuna nachos,” you said.

“And would you be the one to make those deliveries?” he asked.

“No, sir. I will not be working this evening,” you said.

“So that means you are free to join me for dinner tonight?” he asked. Suddenly, you felt your body temperature rise. Your cheeks began to warm, showing a deep shade of red that no blush could ever create.

“Mr. Wagner, I–” you said.

“Danny,” he interrupted again.

“Mr. Danny Wagner, I don’t think–” you said.

“It’s just dinner. I’m going to put in two orders of steak frites and two orders of ahi tuna nachos to be delivered to my room by 7:00 p.m. I hope you will be back here to join me before then,” he said.

Without thinking, you immediately nodded. “Yes, I’ll be back,” you said. Suddenly, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen lit up his already glowing face. You swear his eyes even sparkled.

You went home to change out of your unflattering uniform and put on something that was both comfortable and cute. You freshened up your makeup, brushed your hair, and sprayed the expensive perfume that you always saved for special occasions on your neck. You stared at your Greta Van Fleet records and wondered if you should bring them for Danny to sign. Nobody was going to believe that you two were hanging out in his hotel room, and you sure as hell weren’t going to take a picture to prove it. But you wanted to remember what was probably just a fever dream forever, so you grabbed the records and put them in your tote bag. You gave yourself one final look in the mirror before walking out the door.

On the way back to the hotel, you started to feel nervous. Was this just going to be a one-night-stand? How often does he do this? What if he tries to take it too far? You contemplated turning the car around but something in your head told you to keep driving. No matter how attractive you found him or how much you loved his band, you would not be pressured to do anything you didn’t want to do. You pulled into the employee parking lot–even though you weren’t there as an employee–and took a deep breath before exiting your car. Carrying your tote bag with your Greta Van Fleet vinyls in it, you walked through the automatic glass doors and into the hotel lobby.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Mr. Henry called from behind the desk.

“I was invited to have dinner with a friend,” you said smugly.

“A friend, eh?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, a friend who is staying on the top floor,” you said, meeting his gaze.

“Please do not harass our guests. I told you about their stay in confidence,” he whispered.

“Mr. Henry, a friend who happens to be staying here invited me to dinner so that’s where I am headed,” you said as you made your way to the elevator. “I’ll call the front desk if I need you,” you added before leaving the lobby.

As you hit the number 8 button inside the elevator, you nervously bit your lip as the doors closed. You gripped the strap of your tote bag tighter as you tried to remind yourself to stay cool. When the doors opened, you made your way to room 809 where you stood outside his door wondering if you made the whole thing up in your head earlier. There was no way this was real. If he answered the door and had no idea who you were because you made the whole thing up in your head, you would just make a run for it. You knew where all of the emergency exits were. Good plan. You lightly knocked on his door and awaited your fate. Suddenly, the familiar Greek God from earlier appeared in the doorway and was welcoming you inside his room. So it was real. Danny greeted you by name–good to know he wasn’t just staring at your boobs earlier–and you made your way into the hotel room that you knew like the back of your hand.

“The food should be here in about 15 minutes,” Danny said as he grabbed the remote to turn off the television. You made a mental note that he was watching golf on ESPN.

“I can’t wait,” you said as you took a seat on the small couch in the room. Sitting on his bed would just be rude.

“What’s in the tote bag?” Danny asked as he took a seat next to you. You could feel your cheeks start to blush as you pulled the vinyls out.

“I was hoping you’d sign these for me,” you said sheepishly.

“Oh hell yeah, of course,” Danny said excitedly as he grabbed the stack from you. “Uh, let me call and see if someone has a Sharpie.”

“It doesn’t have to be right now,” you added quickly.

“Well, I won’t forget. I promise,” he held up his pinky. You wrapped your pinky around his which made your heart beat faster. His big hands made yours look and feel tiny in comparison.

“I’m so excited for the show tomorrow,” you said.

“What song do you want to hear most?” he asked with a smirk.

“I already know the setlist,” you said, matching his smirk.

“Well, setlists aren’t set in stone, ya know? Seriously, what song would you want to hear tomorrow?” he asked again.

“Well… One song I noticed that wasn’t on the list that I would kill to hear live would probably be ‘Talk On The Street’ if you want total honesty,” you added. Suddenly, Danny jumped up and made his way into the closet.

“Uh, what are you doing?” you asked, feeling a little nervous. He grabbed a pair of drumsticks and made his way back over to join you on the couch. He turned his body to face you as he began tapping the drums on the sofa cushions. You recognized the beat instantly. He was playing “Talk On The Street'' flawlessly as if the cushions were his drum set. You watched his face as he concentrated on hitting the cushions; you couldn’t help but smile. Before he could finish his performance, a loud knock on the door startled you both.

“Here,” he said, handing you his drumsticks as he jumped up to answer the door. Your hands shook as you held his drumsticks in your hands. Signs of wear and tear were noticeable but they still held up well. You looked up to see Mr. Henry had pushed the room service cart into the room. Four covered dishes were neatly arranged on top of the white tablecloth, along with a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed wine glasses. You quickly met his gaze to give him a reassuring look that you were “ok” before he finished uncovering the dishes and arranging the polished silverware.

“Would you like me to open the bottle of wine, sir?” Mr. Henry asked Danny as he presented the bottle like it was a newborn baby.

“Yes, thank you,” Danny said as he shot you a wink. You felt your body melt into the sofa cushions and prayed you’d be able to climb back out. As Mr. Henry finished pouring the second glass of wine, he turned to you one last time to make sure you felt safe. Then he turned his attention to Danny and asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you this evening, sir?”

“No, I think we are all set,” Danny said as he held what looked to be a 100 dollar bill out toward Mr. Henry.

“I cannot accept tips, sir,” Mr. Henry said as he put his hands behind his back.

“I insist,” Danny said, holding the bill out even further.

“As the manager, I am legally unable to accept tips. I do appreciate the gesture,” Mr. Henry said as he bowed to Danny. He grabbed the silver covers to the dishes and made his way to exit the room. You watched him leave and realized you were squeezing the drumsticks so tight that you were probably going to get a splinter.

“I just realized you probably eat food from here all of the time. I should have ordered us something else,” Danny said as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“No, I actually don’t. This is wonderful, thank you,” you said as you jumped up to join him near the front of the room. You held the drumsticks out to him but he held up his hand in protest.

“Keep them,” Danny said.

“I couldn’t–” you said.

“You can pretend you caught them at the concert,” he said playfully. You held the drum sticks close to your heart as a way of showing how meaningful this gesture was. You put your newest prized-possession inside your tote bag when Danny brought you over a glass of wine.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” he said as he lifted his glass for a toast.

“To new beginnings,” you repeated as you touched his glass to yours. You took a sip of the wine and watched his eyes linger on your face a little too long. He realized that he may have been staring and immediately cleared his throat before bringing the glass to his lips.

You both ate and drank while enjoying the simple company of one another. Danny controlled most of the conversation but not in an arrogant sort of way. You almost felt like it was a Q&A because he was asking you so many questions about your life. You could tell he was genuinely curious about who you were, your hobbies, your family, and more. You barely had an opportunity to ask him any similar questions because he was always ready with the next question for you. However, you were curious what the other guys were up to. Were they staying in the hotel or did they go out? Were they hanging out together in another room? You didn’t want to pry but curiosity got the best of you.

“So do you guys normally spend evenings alone when on tour?” you asked as you swirled your second glass of wine around. You were thankful to have had a moment to put him in the hot seat where he had to do the answering.

“Honestly it depends on the city and how long of a break we have,” Danny said as he smoothed his palms over the top of his pants. “I think everyone just wanted some alone time tonight.”

“I get that,” you said. While others needed to be in constant contact with friends or family, you found yourself often wanting to be isolated. It probably stemmed from having a job where you were always having to interact with the public. You didn’t mind spending evenings alone, but it was nice to be in his company. Oddly enough, you were also fighting the urge not to clean the dirty dishes from the room. You had to remind yourself that you were currently there as a guest and not an employee.

“We’ll probably party tomorrow night after the show,” he said. You consciously took your time forming a response as you finished your glass of wine. On the one hand, you considered this as an invitation to spend more time with him. On the other hand, you weren’t sure if you wanted to cringe at the idea of having to clean up their mess after they left.

“Don’t tell me you guys trash hotel rooms,” you said, covering your face.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Danny said, grabbing your hands away from your face. You noticed he didn’t let go once he held them. You could feel the rough parts of his palms and fingertips–calluses from playing instruments. Your hands looked so small in his but you didn’t pull away.

“I meant it when I said you’re an angel,” he said quietly.

“I got you a list of florists. That’s hardly angelic,” you said, staring at your hands in his.

“I could simply tell from your voice. I didn’t even know what you looked like. But then when you came to my door, I knew I was right,” he said as he lightly ran his thumbs over the top of your hands.

“Do you normally call the front desk for things you could Google on your own in hopes of finding angels?” you asked playfully.

“I may have been influenced to call,” he said with a grin. Your bewildered expression caused him to laugh. “Your manager may have hinted that the girl working the front desk was a huge fan when he was escorting us to our rooms…”

“Oh my God,” you said as you tried to pull your hands away to cover your face in embarrassment, but his hold on your hands became firm. You felt your body heat up and you weren’t sure if it was because you were embarrassed or because you felt a connection while he held your hands tighter.

“It really is my sister’s birthday tomorrow. I really did need a florist,” he said laughing. “I just wanted to meet this huge fan for myself.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you said, closing your eyes. If he was going to keep you from covering your face, you figured you’d do your best to hide by not looking at him.

“Don’t be,” he said as you felt him let go of your hands. Before you could open your eyes, you felt his fingers gingerly push a strand of hair away from your face. His touch sent waves of electricity through your body. You wanted him to put his hands all over you if that simple touch could cause such a reaction inside. You fought the temptation and used your better judgment, even though the combination of the wine and your attraction to him made it difficult to think clearly.

“It’s getting late and I have to be up early for work tomorrow,” you said as you watched the light in his eyes dim.

“Are you working tomorrow night?” he asked as if he were worried about something.

“No, no, I will be at the concert come hell or high water,” you said. “I’m bringing my outfit to work so I can change when I get off.”

“Where is your seat?” Danny asked.

“Oh, it’s not great but I’ll just be happy to be there,” you said.

“Can I get you a pit ticket?” he asked, grinning. You bit your lip to keep from smiling but the corners of your mouth gave you away. “I’ll pull a string or two to make sure I can see you from the stage.”

“That’s really not necessary, I–” you started.

“Please,” he said softly. You met his eyes and then realized he was being totally serious about wanting to watch you while he played.

“Yes, of course,” you said, not looking away from his stare as you studied his deep brown eyes. He jumped up again and went over to the dresser. You watched with curiosity as he returned back to you with a room key in his hand.

“I know you already have access to my room–wow, that sounds weird saying it aloud–but here,” he said, handing you the second key. “You can use my room to get ready in when you get off work. I have to be at the venue pretty early, so you’ll have the whole place to yourself. I’ll get a pit wristband somehow and leave it in here for you too.” The idea of not having to use the tiny breakroom to get ready for the concert was nice, but something about having one of his room keys made you feel a little nervous. “You can use it to come back to party with us after the show too,” he added. So it was an invitation earlier.

“Are you sure? I’d feel weird being in your room when you’re not here,” you said.

“Just don’t go through my underwear. Or do, I won’t know,” he said, grinning.

Part Three

Now that you knew you were going to be up front at the concert, you started to wonder if the outfit you had planned was good enough. That being said, you had literally no other options and made the best of it. Mr. Henry was able to let you off work before 6:00 p.m., so you didn’t feel super stressed for time. You carried your outfit on its hanger and had your cosmetic bag in tow as you made your way to the elevator to get ready in Danny’s room. You still couldn’t believe he offered his personal space to you, but you were going to take advantage of the opportunity. You had an hour and a half before you had to call an Uber, so you made mental notes on where to start when you got to room 809. You scanned the key card and entered the room. Housekeeping had definitely been here because it was spotless; that is, unless Danny naturally kept his room that way. It could be a toss-up. As promised, an envelope with your name on it was sitting on top of the dresser. You put your stuff down on the couch and made your way over to open the envelope. You opened it to find not only a wristband but also a handwritten note that said:

Angel,

I can’t wait to see you tonight.

-Danny

When you finally got to the venue, you could hear the opening act loudly from the lobby. You asked an employee where to go to get on the floor, and she directed you to the general admission entrance. You entered the pit and stood behind rows of hundreds of fans; yet, you noticed your wristband was a completely different color from theirs. Not like anyone but you would even notice. You found a clear area in the back of the pit and hung out on the side barricade, enjoying what was left of the opening act. You weren’t sure when Greta Van Fleet would go on, but you were glad that you made it with plenty of time. The openers played their last song so you knew you had a brief intermission before Danny took the stage. The simple thought of seeing him again made you feel like you were floating.

“Excuse me,” you heard a deep voice say. You turned to see a large man, who was clearly working for security, standing near you. “You can follow me,” he motioned with his hand.

“Me?” You asked.

“Yes, I’ve been looking for a bright yellow wristband all night,” he said as if he were annoyed with you. Confused, you made your way out of the back entrance and followed him along the right side of the pit. You could feel people staring at you but you tried to focus on following the large man. Even though he was three times your size, the man moved quickly. He stopped near the front section of the pit and let you in at the side, the furthest right on the barricade. You felt bad moving up to a space that was so clearly coveted by the surrounding fans. You gave the girls next to you a soft smile to which they just turned their backs to you. Lovely.

The music started to play from behind the curtains and you felt every ounce of energy in the venue radiate. After what felt like an eternity, the curtain fell and even though there were four men on stage, you were immediately drawn to Danny. You loved seeing both versions of him: The soft, kind man who had his hair pulled back in a clip yesterday and the rockstar version with rhinestones, eyeliner, and full luscious curls. You screamed as the four of them took their positions on stage to play “The Falling Sky” but your eyes were still fixed on him. As if he could sense you, he met your gaze and playfully stuck his tongue out. You felt your knees get weak and you fought to stay standing. You grabbed your phone to record bits and pieces of the concert. Every time you moved your camera on Danny, he’d go especially crazy, no doubt showing out for you. You didn’t realize it, but you were biting your bottom lip so hard that you started to feel pain.

Once the guys started to head back toward the front from B stage, you realized why the security guard positioned you to this exact spot in the pit. You watched as Jake passed by you and felt your lungs almost give out when Danny personally handed you a white rose. Screams of fans enveloped all around you and you noticed many phones pointed at you too.

“Holy shit, did you just get a rose from Danny?” the girl who ignored you earlier asked.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly as reality was still setting in. You continued to watch in awe of the band as they performed the last half of their setlist. Part of you wondered if they’d stick to what you knew was coming after Danny made the comment last night about them not being set in stone, but you had about all you could take. If they were to play anything else, you wouldn’t make it out of the arena alive. As long as you were buried with this white rose, maybe it’d be worth it.

While you were watching the final song, you felt a tap on your right shoulder. You looked to see that it was the large security guard from earlier. Without a word, he motioned for you to exit and follow him. What the hell? The concert wasn’t even over yet. Not wanting to get on this man’s nerves any more than you inadvertently did, you slipped out the side of the barricade and followed him backstage. Even if he were to say something to you, the noise from the stage overpowered your senses. You couldn’t hear anything but the music. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you kept your rose and clear purse firmly clutched against your body. He finally stopped when he reached a small door in a dim hallway. The place kind of gave you the creeps.

“Danny asked me to get you out of there before it got too crazy,” the man finally spoke as he unlocked the door. Before you could say a word, he turned around and left you standing in the barren hallway. You entered the room and noticed a huge bouquet of daisies on the table in the middle of the room. No card, no note. His sister must have already taken it out before the concert. The local florist he chose did a beautiful job. You admired the soft petals before making your way to his vanity. You took a seat in the chair and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your subtle rhinestones in the corners of your eyes had held up surprisingly well. You took the lipgloss out of your clear purse and reapplied it when you heard the doorknob start to turn. You spun around to see Danny entering the room. His tall stature took up the entire space of the doorway. Clad in only a pair of shiny white pants, you gulped when he locked the door behind him. You admired his back muscles before he quickly turned back to face you.

“That was incredible!” you squealed as he made his way over to you.

“Yeah?” he asked like he didn’t already know. He took the rose out of your hand and stuck it in the bouquet of daisies. It looked incongruous sticking over the top of the daisies that you had to giggle.

“As long as your sister doesn’t take my rose,” you said.

“Oh, those are yours,” Danny said, moving closer to you.

“What?” you asked.

“I may or may not have ordered two bouquets. That one is yours,” he said as he was now close enough to touch you. “You said she had good taste. I assumed they’d be your favorite flower, too,” he said sheepishly.

“Yes, they absolutely are, but–” you started to say.

“I wanted to give you a daisy tonight instead of a rose, but Josh told me no. Between you and me, I think he was just mad I was copying him to begin with,” he said with a shrug.

“Everything about tonight was absolutely perfect. I can’t thank you enough,” you said.

“The second I saw you, I immediately got nervous,” Danny said.

“Shut up,” you said while rolling your eyes.

“No, seriously. I never get nervous before a show, but seeing you made me feel like I was under pressure,” he admitted.

“You wouldn’t have felt like that if you had let me keep my seat in the nosebleeds,” you said sticking your tongue out.

“I still would have found you out of the thousands of people. You naturally glow, angel,” Danny said as he softly touched your arm. You moved your hand over the top of his and admired his rare beauty. You felt your heart race as he moved his body closer to you. Even though he already towered over you when standing next to him, now that you were sitting down, he looked even more intimidating in the best way possible. You held your breath as he seemingly removed any open space between you two.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in the most faint of voice you almost wanted him to ask you again. As if every word you’ve ever learned escaped your brain, you nodded. He leaned down and put his soft lips against yours. You felt your body relax as his hands moved across your back, pulling you closer into an embrace. His lips pushed yours open and his musician’s fingers glided up your back until they reached your neck. You moaned as if you had never tasted anyone so sweet, so good in all your life. The noise that escaped you only seemed to ignite the fire that was already lit inside him. This kiss was becoming dangerous, and now you had a new reason why you weren’t going to make it out of the arena alive. As if he sensed the same need for caution, Danny slowly pulled away and left you wanting more.

“Now that was incredible,” he said in a voice so low you barely heard him because there was a loud, obnoxious knock at the door. You watched as he nervously situated himself to answer the door. You obviously weren’t the only one who got excitedly lost in the kiss. You watched as he took a deep breath and shook his head before opening the door. Without warning, Sammy entered the room carrying a bottle of tequila.

“Are we partying here or taking it back to the hotel?” he loudly announced as he made his way into the room. He stopped moving when he noticed you sitting in the chair.

“Oh shit, was I interrupting something?” he asked with a nervous grin.

“No, no,” you said as you jumped down from the chair. “I was just leaving,” you said as you grabbed the vase of daisies with the tall rose sticking out the top.

“You still have the room key?” Danny leaned in and asked you quietly.

“Yes,” you said.

“Will I see you soon then?” he asked as if he were holding on to your every word.

“Yes,” you repeated. He relaxed into a smile and rubbed your arm.

Part Four

You called an Uber to take you home so you could put your new vase of flowers away before you Ubered back to the hotel where your car was. Before leaving the house, you stuck an extra change of clothes, your toothbrush, and a phone charger in a purse just in case you weren’t coming back home for the evening. You did have a key to a hotel room, after all. When you got to the hotel, you recognized concert-goers in the lobby based on the outfits. You blended right in with your rhinestones, glitter, and pearls. You wondered what these people would do if you revealed the band was secretly occupying the same space as them. Keeping that secret made you feel even more confident as you made your way up to room 809.

You could hear music blaring from their end of the hallway as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. The security guard from earlier was positioned right outside the elevator doors. Like an old friend, you gave him a wave to which he ignored. He didn’t say a word to you as you walked around him. “Great talking to you again,” you said as you made your way to find where the music was coming from. Doors were propped open and you tried to ignore the safety hazards that were everywhere. You walked past rooms crowded with faces you didn’t know, scanning for the one that made your heart beat faster. Unlike the others, room 809’s door was closed. You scanned the key card and let yourself in. There you found Danny, Sammy, and another girl pouring shots. Danny called out your name as you nervously shut the door behind you. Danny introduced you to his friends when Sammy said, “We’ve already met, remember?”

“Hi, I’m Josie,” the girl said, holding out her hand.

“This is my sister,” Danny said as he pulled Josie into a side hug.

“Oh! Happy birthday!” you exclaimed when shaking her hand.

“Thank you!” she said as she handed you a shot glass.

“To another trip around the sun,” Sammy said as he held up his shot glass to make a toast. You touched your shot glass to theirs and threw back the liquid that burned all the way down. Trying to mask your disgust, you cleared your throat.

“Here,” Danny said, holding a can of White Claw out to you. “This will help cut the burn. Sorry, Josie insisted on us taking tequila shots for her birthday.” You took the can and was grateful for the chaser.

You panicked a little when you scanned the hotel room and noticed your stuff from earlier was nowhere to be found. Your cosmetic bag, work uniform, and shoes weren’t in the spot where you left them earlier. As if he could sense your uneasiness, Danny whispered in your ear, “Your things are in the closet.” You gave him a soft smile to show that he had read your mind perfectly.

You continued the evening party hopping from one room to the next with Danny on your arm. Every room had a different sound, vibe, and smell to it. You did your best to ignore the state laws being broken right in front of you when the boys blew smoke out into the hallway. You were a guest, remember? Not an employee. You silently prayed they wouldn’t trigger the smoke detectors, but you had a feeling they were experts at avoiding that by now. It was a surreal moment getting to hangout with your favorite band. Getting to see them on stage was one thing but getting to see them act natural in a relaxed environment was a whole different experience.

As if the work day and concert was starting to catch up to you, you stifled a yawn that you tried to keep hidden. It was a little past 2 a.m. and the party showed no signs of stopping. Danny noticed your attempt at hiding your yawn and squeezed your shoulder before announcing to everyone in the room that he was calling it a night.

“What?” Josh yelled. “You can sleep on the bus all day tomorrow.”

“Not with your snoring,” Danny responded back. You made a mental note that Josh snores loudly. Then again, who would you have to tell that would believe you?

“It was so nice to meet all of you,” you said as you waved both hands to the dozens of people occupying the small space. Josie jumped up to give you a hug goodbye and you noticed a look you couldn’t quite pinpoint that she exchanged with her brother. You followed Danny out of the room where he took your hand and led you back to his room.

“You really didn’t have to cut the party short on my behalf,” you said as you followed him inside.

“I can party with them every night. I want to spend more time with you,” he said.

“Well,” you said looking at the time, “you have a little under 8 hours until check out.”

“What if I request a late checkout? Do you know anyone who could pull some strings for me?” he said, pulling you into a bear hug.

“I would let you stay as long as you want, but I don’t think my say matters,” you said into his chest.

“You’d let me stay forever?” he said as his chin rested on top of your head.

“That’s certainly the latest checkout time I’ve ever heard, but I’d make it work for you,” you said. You felt him let go and you looked up to see him looking down into your eyes. He still had his concert makeup on, but then again, so did you. He quietly said your name and you felt your bones turn to jello.

“Yes?” you responded.

“Would you like to stay the night with me?” he asked.

“What if I told you I had my toothbrush and a change of clothes already in my purse?” you answered his question with a question. His face lit up with that contagious smile. Suddenly, he picked you up and carried you to the bed. You squealed with laughter as he dropped you gently on top of the comforter.

“Mr. Wagner, are we going to leave a trail of rhinestones in this bed?” you asked playfully as you propped yourself up on your elbows.

“I won’t mess up your makeup, angel,” he said as he stood over you.

“What if I wanted you to?” you asked with a smirk.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said as he began to remove his clothes. You had already seen him shirtless earlier, but seeing his muscles again made you short of breath. You followed his lead and began to remove your top. He then started to take off his shoes where he held on to your legs for balance. Without removing his hands from your body, he moved his way up your thighs and lingered near the waistband of your shorts.

“May I?” he asked.

“You may,” you said, matching his tone, “such a gentleman.” He slowly pulled your shorts down while you laid back on the bed. Danny smiled as he gazed over your matching bra and panty set–something you were mindful of when deciding what to wear tonight.

“My, my, my,” he said as he admired your body.

“I believe you’d be more comfortable out of those pants,” you said when you noticed the large bulge behind his zipper. He immediately began to unbutton his own pants and pulled them down. He now stood in front of you wearing nothing but a thin pair of boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. You pulled your body up and moved your fingers over his chest that started to heave in anticipation. He moved closer to you and you felt his hands slowly move down your back until they met your bra. As if undoing a bra clasp was his area of expertise–and maybe it was but you didn’t want to think about that–you felt the straps fall in one swift motion. Your breasts were bare and when you met Danny’s eyes, you could see a shudder run through him. He gently pushed you back on the bed and traced his mouth over your right nipple before taking it into his mouth. You rubbed your fingers through his thick ringlets and couldn’t believe how soft they felt.

His mouth moved from your chest as it kissed every inch of your stomach until he reached your panties. As if waiting for your permission, Danny lingered until you gave him another sign of approval by inching yourself up so he could remove your panties easier. His calloused fingertips traced your hips when he pulled your panties down, exposing the sacred part of you. “Fuck” he gritted out. You let out a giggle and wrapped your legs around his waist, moving him toward you. It looked like he stopped breathing when you pulled the waistband of his boxer briefs down and saw his large erection up close and personal. Wow. “You’re the sexiest man on the fucking planet,” you said as you gazed up at him. That was all he could handle. He climbed on top of you and you felt his hard erection rub against the top of your center where it rested on your stomach. He took you in mouthfuls at a time. His tongue parted your lips and you breathed him in. You moved your fingers back to his curls where you pulled fistfuls gently as you drew him closer. You heard him say your name as his lips moved to kiss your neck, nipping you lightly with his teeth. You arched your back and pushed your hips into him, signaling you were ready for him. Suddenly you screamed when you felt two fingers, that had once been so gentle against your skin, now sliding inside of you. “I want you so bad,” you moaned as he moved his fingers in and out of you in a rough, repeated motion. You could hear the sound of your own wetness and could only imagine what his dick would feel like inside of you. “Please,” you moaned. You weren’t one to beg, but the effect he had over you was hypnotic. You felt him slowly remove his fingers and when you looked at him, he put them inside of his mouth–not breaking eye contact. He reached inside the nightstand where he pulled out a shiny gold wrapper. You waited in anticipation as he slid the condom over himself. He returned back to your wanting body and grabbed fistfuls of your ass to pull you to the edge of the bed. You parted your thighs as an invitation for him to enter, and he slowly pushed his way inside of you. “Oh, Danny,” you moaned as you threw your head back on the bed. You felt him enter deeper, still taking his time to make sure you were ok. Your white knuckles clenched the comforter beneath you as the intense pleasure took over you completely. Now that he had made himself known, he went at you harder. You whimpered as he continued to deliver deep, hard thrusts that you hoped would never end. You couldn’t help but to scream as his primal instincts made you start to writhe beneath him.

“I’m going to cum,” you yelled as you felt your body tighten beneath him.

“Cum for me, angel,” he moaned. And as if you’d follow his every command, an orgasm shuddered through you. Your hands found his strong arms where you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his flesh. He continued to hit deeper and you thought you were going to black out. “Oh my god,” you yelled out as you felt his hands tighten against your legs. He was at his breaking point–you felt him collapse on top of you breathing out a “holy shit” in the process. The once perfect curls that framed his face now stuck to his sweaty skin. He rolled over to lay beside you as you both struggled to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” he repeated. You turned to face him, admiring the features of his beautiful face. You always had a soft spot for him, but the last two days have made you absolutely crazy for him. You knew this was only going to be a hookup; as much as you would love to lay next to–and especially under–this man every day for the rest of eternity, it would be impossible. You chose not to dwell on the fact that he could never be just yours, so instead you chose to enjoy the fact that you didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world at this moment.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as he studied your face. Your eyes must have given away your busy mind. You met his eyes that were once soft, then animalistic, and now concerned.

“I’m thinking about how I wish I could be in every hotel you stay at,” you admitted.

“You know, the tour is currently on its last leg of dates,” he said as he pushed your hair back from your face. “I’ll be free in a little over a month.”

“You wouldn’t want to come back here during your time off,” you said, shaking your head. You knew he was only telling you things that you wanted to hear. You knew the closest you’d ever get to him again was going to be watching concert videos from tonight on your phone.

“I would absolutely come back here. Those steak frites were incredible,” he teased. “Oh, I would come back for you too, of course.” You rolled your eyes and tried to turn away but he pulled you closer to him. He nuzzled his face into the nape of your neck. “Why do you smell like strawberries?” he said.

“My conditioner,” you laughed.

“I love it,” he inhaled. “Use it again on November 20 when I check back into this hotel.”

“Shut up,” you said as you playfully hit his arm.

“Will you leave me rose petals on the bed?” he asked. “Is that something I can call and request before I arrive?”

“I’m sorry. That’s not a request we can accommodate, Mr. Wagner,” you said in your customer-service-voice.

“I’m sure the angel working the front desk will pull some strings for me,” he said as he squeezed you tighter.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you said as you enjoyed the moment in his embrace. He began kissing your neck and you felt goosebumps erupt all over your body. His kisses became more frequent and passionate, and you sensed he was ready to go again when you felt his dick harden against your thigh.

“Again?” you said as both a question and an invitation.

“Good thing I have a late checkout,” he said with a smile as he pulled you on top of him.

The End

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut #danny wagner #daniel wagner

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