#cause i dance stiff

[saioratral]

ANDHERA TERA, MAINE LE LIYA

MERA UJLA SITAARA TERE NAAM KIYA

CHANNA MEREYA MEREYA

CHANNA MEREYA MEREYA 🗣️🔥

[chiquilines]

Lil miryumi dancing post because the brainrot is real, ladies and gentlemen

[ontargetmadders]

Glee has become such a guilty pleasure of mine over the last few months ngl lol 😅

[mosspapi]

Man I am so fucking sick of my neck like. I have things to do but I am afraid to sit up in case fucking breathing wrong will make it even worse and I'll be immobilized in bed for the next 3-9 business days. I literally have been doing everything I'm supposed to in order to manage it. Why can it not be fucking normal

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Boy Toys || CarLando

Summary: You invite your boyfriend’s ex-teammate to bed and he is more than willing to be your toy for the night. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mmf threesome, mxm anal WC: 2.7k

“He wants you, amor,” Carlos teased the shell of your ear. Your boyfriend stood behind you, his hands on your waist and his body flush against yours. “He can’t stop looking at you.”

You looked at Carlos’ ex-teammate and found his blue eyes already watching you from across the bar and heat coursed your veins at the way he held his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. The younger driver had grown more handsome over the years since Carlos left McLaren but he clearly still had it bad for you, and Carlos was enjoying every second of it as his hands trailed up your body before curving over your ribs. Lando’s eyes dropped to the possessive touch that cradled the underside of your breasts and drew his attention to your nipples that were beginning to peak against the thin satin dress you wore.

“Stop bruising the poor guy’s ego,” you chuckled as you pushed his hands back down to your hips. You turned and draped your arms around Carlos’ neck, smiling sweetly as you tipped your head back to meet his eyes. “Or I might just have to go and kiss it better.”

Carlos’ hands spread over your ass and pulled you against him, his growing semi digging into your abdomen. A smirk played on his full lips and dirty thoughts danced across his face that you had always found easy to read. “Hmm, would you really?”

You rose onto your tip toes and nipped at his bottom lip before trailing kisses along his jawline. “Absolutely, I would even let you watch.”

Your ass burned with a sharp smack and he inhaled your moan as he kissed you with a harsh crash of his lips. “Go on then, amor, put him out of his misery.”

You grinned at the permission and slipped out of his hold to cross the room. The duo had been friends long before you started your relationship with Carlos and there had always been an undercurrent of sexual tension when the three of you were in a room together. You hadn’t been able to resist asking Carlos about it one night when your bodies were entangled. He admitted he felt it too but assured you nothing had happened, much to your disappointment. Things started to change after that night and Carlos grew bolder around Lando, playing on his desire and yours.

“You’re looking lonely,” you greeted Lando, draping your arms around his neck in an overly friendly hug. “Dance with me.”

He looked at Carlos, catching the smirk and the nod the Spaniard gave before turning to another friend who had called his name. Letting you drag him to the middle of the crowd where the room felt claustrophobic, Lando easily slipped into the space you made, his arms curving around your waist as the beat of the song echoed in his chest.

You tipped your head back on his shoulder as you swayed your hips to the music, enjoying the feel of his breath on your neck as he grew the courage to brush his lips over your racing pulse. The sweet perfume on your neck seemed more intoxicating than the drinks he had and he brushed his nose along your neck as he inhaled more.

“Make me sweat, make me hotter, make me lose my breath, make me water,” you sang along suggestively to the song and grinned when he groaned quietly.

“I wish…”

You turned in his arms and bit your lip as your hands roamed his body, slipping beneath the cotton shirt and over his abs. “What exactly would you wish for?”

“What?”

“If you had one wish, what would it be?”

Lando dared to dream as his hands slipped down your body to rest on your ass, growing bolder when you made no attempt to stop him. His lips brushed your skin as he dipped his head down to yours, resting cheek to cheek and whispering all the filthy thoughts he had imagined with you. Each one sent heat flaming across your body and your deep breath swelled in your chest, causing your breasts to brush against him. The satin teased your already stiff nipples and a soft moan tumbled out to caress his ear.

“We should get out of here,” you suggested as your heart began to beat between your legs, your core throbbing with need.

“We?” Lando asked, pulling back to catch sight of Carlos casually waiting by the bar still.

“He likes to watch…unless you want him to join.” You watched him swallow deeply, that damn kissable lip catching between his teeth again before he nodded.

“He likes to watch?”

You grazed your nails over his abs and felt them tense at the touch. “He likes to watch me play with my toys. Will you be my toy tonight?”

His hand was already grabbing yours with the need for a quick exit. “Fuck yes.”

You let him lead the way, nodding your head to Carlos and pointing to the corridor that led out of the bar. His swagger was confident as he placed his glass on the bar top and made his way out too.

“Where are we off to in such a hurry?” Carlos asked as he intercepted you by the door, casually leaning across the opening to block Lando. It left their bodies close and dark eyes drank in the younger driver whose hand still gripped yours. Lando froze, his eyes darting between you and Carlos with worry before a grin split your boyfriend’s face. “Relax, cabrón, I mean your hotel or mine.”

“Fuck, man, you gave me a heart attack.” Lando exhaled in relief before getting a little nervous, dropping your hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Uh, I don’t mind.”

“Ours,” you decided. “My toys are in the suitcase.”

Carlos’ eyes lit up at the thought. “You brought them through airport security, amor?”

You winked and ducked under his arm to start making an exit. “It was a private jet. I figured no one would check. Now are we going to have some fun or just me?”

The two drivers looked at each other and smirked.

The hotel door slammed shut and Carlos winced in apology but he was a little too eager to finish what started in the elevator. You could still feel Lando’s kiss on your lips and see Carlos’ eyes darkening with lust. You wanted more.

Lando crashed into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady your steps as he guided you back to the bed. “You have no idea how long I have wanted this,” he confessed as those strong hands moved to caress your ass. 

A deep groan filled the air and it didn’t come from the man in front of you. “Oh, I know,” Carlos said as he pressed himself to your back and kissed your neck. “I’ve seen the way you watch her, cabròn.”

“The same way you look at each other,” you added, feeling them both stiffen against you. Neither pulled away, Lando’s hands still resting on your ass where Carlos’s front was pressed against them. “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

Lando was no longer looking at you but over your shoulder. “I thought you were just watching…”

Carlos’ heartbeat thrummed rapidly against your back. “If that’s what you want.”

The silent question hung in the air and you held your breath waiting for it to settle. There was no expectation from Carlos because he was absolutely happy to just watch, you could feel it from the large bulge digging into your ass, but you had seen the longing to join as well. 

Lando’s hand moved and you feared he was pulling away until Carlos moaned. Your thighs pressed tight in search of friction as you felt Lando stroking Carlos over his jeans and you felt them both shiver in anticipation.

“How attached are you to this dress?” Lando asked.

“I love it, but I’ll love it more the faster it comes off.” 

His smirk grew and he reached for the thigh split, his strength easily overcoming the sewed join as he ripped it all the way to the top. The material fell open, only kept up by the thin straps over your shoulders, until Carlos brushed them off.

“Dios mio.”

Carlos chuckled at Lando’s poor pronunciation and ran a hand down the curves of your body. “Is that all you have learned from me, carnal?”

“I can’t think of anything when you do that,” he admitted. “You’re so fucking lucky.”

You weren’t quite sure who he was saying it to and you shared a smile with Carlos as you saw the same thought pass across his eyes. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now,” you teased as you took Carlos’ hand and guided it to the juncture of your thighs. “I have two very handsome men with me, except they are completely overdressed.”

You stepped away from them and climbed onto the bed, taking a seat at the headboard. “You can’t join me until you are naked.”

Lando nearly fell over as his legs tangled in his jeans but he kicked them aside and tore his shirt over his head. Carlos was more content to remove his shirt and unbuckle his belt before taking a seat on the couch in the room. He could see how eager his friend was and was willing to let him have some unbridled fun before he joined in. 

“Go ahead, carnal,” he encouraged when he saw Lando stop and look back.

“Told you he likes to watch,” you said as you rose to your knees and met him in the middle of the bed. You combed your fingers through his hair and looked into his pretty puppy eyes, he was waiting for your guidance. You decided you quite liked looking into his eyes and pushed his chest, forcing him onto his back. “You still wanna be my toy tonight?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” He cradled your ass as you climbed up his body, straddling his chest as you looked down at him. “Use me, baby, I’ll do anything you want.”

You smirked at Carlos as you shifted and felt Lando’s tongue flick out and swipe your slit as you settled over his face. Lando’s moan quickly followed the taste before he gripped your hips and tugged you down on his lips. Like a starving man, he devoured your pussy, licking and sucking you into a frenzy until your moans grew louder, urging him on further.

“Spank her, carnal,” Carlos urged, his voice tense as he gripped his cock tightly and leaned closer in the chair. “Make her come screaming your name.”

You rocked your hips over his face as he fucked you with his tongue and jolted with the sudden flame that kissed your ass. “Harder,” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut and your thighs clenched around his head. Lando’s hand scorched your cheek again and your head fell back as the heat spread to your cunt, spilling over his lips in waves as you cried out his name.

Then, you were airborne. Lando’s muscles tensed as he sat up with you still riding out your orgasm on his face. He flopped you onto the pillows and chuckled at the fucked out look in your eyes but he wasn’t finished with you as he buried his face back between your legs and added two thick fingers to your cunt. Your back arched as your pussy clamped around the digits, tight from the orgasm that still sent pulses throughout your body.

“Dios mio,” Carlos groaned as he rose from the bed and walked around to the drawer on your side. Your eyes could barely see him as they rolled back into your head but you heard the click of the cap from the bottle of lube. “Keep going, hermoso.”

You hadn’t noticed Lando had stopped, you were too busy watching Carlos kneel onto the bed behind Lando. The younger driver's legs were spread where he lay on his stomach between yours and his toes curled at the touch of the cold gel on his ass.

“I’ll warm it up,” Carlos promised as he gently massaged the lube around Lando’s hole, drawing a low moan from him.

You were glad the pillows held you up because your body was not functioning right as you watched Lando’s eyes close and his teeth bite his bottom lip at the finger Carlos worked inside him. Lando’s breath tickled your thighs as he moaned deeply as you combed your fingers into his curls.

“You like that, baby?” you asked knowingly. “You want Carlos to fuck you?”

“Yes…please,” he whimpered with need, rocking his hips to take it deeper. “I want him.”

Carlos added a second finger and you gasped as Lando buried his teeth in your thigh and pumped his fingers into your cunt at the same pace.

“I want you too,” Lando moaned, peering up from between your legs with dark eyes.

You looked over his shoulder to see Carlos squeezing a generous layer of gel down his thick length, lazily stroking it to spread it evenly. He was ready, and you were more than ready.

“Come on then, handsome, fuck me like you could only imagine. Take me how you want,” you dared, remembering his wish that he whispered in your ear.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Lando groaned as he knelt on the bed and flipped you over, pulling you hips up so you were on all fours. “And I’ll die happy.” He snapped his hips forward and buried himself in your pussy, the warm wet walls clenching around him until he bottomed out and you both moaned at how good it felt.

“Ready, hermoso?” Carlos asked as he positioned himself behind Lando, teasing his tip around his hole before gently pushing against the resistance.

Lando didn’t answer out loud. He pulled out of you, pushing himself back onto Carlos’ cock and his breath froze in his lungs as the fullness grew inch by inch. “Fuck…” he moaned breathlessly, stopping for a moment to adjust before he dragged his hips forward again and filled you.

“I’m not sure who is the toy now,” Carlos teased as Lando set himself a steady pace of fucking you and then fucking himself agaisnt Carlos with each thrust and retreat. You didn’t care if he was using you at the point, you were so far gone in your pleasure you weren’t sure you were ever going to come down. “But fuck this feels good. Your ass is perfect, cariño.”

Lando moaned at the praise and sped up, the sounds of bodies slapping together filling the hotel room just as loud as your moans. The bruising grip on your hips tightened and you reached between your legs to press a finger to your puffy clit. The growing tightness in your body surged with the added stimulation and your legs began to tremble before a fresh wave of pleasure rolled over you.

Your orgasm sent your walls pulsing around his cock and he cried out as it triggered his own, the hot ropes of his cum filling your cunt until it dripped down your quaking thighs. Carlos bit his full lip as Lando’s body clamped down around his cock and it was all too much to resist his own release. Spanish tumbled from his lips as he buried himself as deep as he could, the weight of his body pinning you to the mattress beneath Lando. Lando cried out again as he felt Carlos’ cock pulse inside him, the warmth of his seed spilling into him.

Carlos pressed a soft kiss to Lando’s shoulder before gently pulling out and collapsing to the bed panting. The weight lifted and you could breathe fully again as your boyfriend wrapped an arm around Lando, his fingertips dancing on your skin.

“That was…” Carlos couldn’t seem to find the word to describe it, but you understood.

“Yeah, it was,” you giggled.

“Definitely,” Lando confirmed, still panting in recovery as he started to sit up.

“Stay,” Carlos whispered as he pulled him back down between your bodies. “You don’t have to go.”

“Are you sure?”

You rolled over to face him and mirrored Carlos, curling an arm around his waist too so he was cocooned. “Definitely.”

[nottsangel]

how do you think rafes baddie girlfriend would react to him trying to be possessive and controlling of her at a party?

god, she would have none of it. she’s her own person who knows exactly what she wants and will never let a man, including rafe, tell her what she can and cannot do. it frustrates and irritates him. he wants you to be all his, even though you already are— but it never seems to be enough for him.

you can feel rafe’s burning eyes following you with every move you make at the party, your hips swaying to the beat as you have your arms wrapped around your friend while dancing with her. he taps his rings restlessly against the glass beer bottle while glancing around the room with narrowed eyes, taking in all the guys who are staring at you with lust.

he tries not to lose his cool, knowing you fucking hate it when he's controlling, but when he notices some drunk guys talking to each other while pointing at his girl, he has had enough. rafe could easily guess what they were talking about, almost recognising his old, single self and his friends in that group, treating girls like objects to be used solely for their pleasure— the thought of them doing the same to you causes anger to rage through his entire body.

you’re in your own world, nothing on your mind except the music pounding in your ears, when all of a sudden you feel a strong hand wrapped around your arm, causing you to flinch before seeing your boyfriend’s towering frame standing over you, his intense blue eyes gazing down at you.

“cut that shit out, yeah? everyone in this goddamn room is practically eye fucking you, for fucks sake. you gotta behave, makin’ me look like a fucking idiot here.” “behave? rafe, helloo?! i’m literally just dancing? you’re so fucking dramatic, holy fucking shit. now either join me or leave— but i think i already know the answer to that, mr. stiff hips.” you snap, looking him up and down with a disapproving expression on your face, not in the slightest bit amused by his controlling behaviour.

he scoffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “if that’s how you wanna play this, then a’ight”, eyes momentarily leaving yours as he rubs his face with his mind racing, before returning his gaze to you. “but by the end of the night, you’re gonna fucking regret it.” “yeah yeah, whatever tough boy, we’ll see about that.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 7 | Billy Loomis x Riley!Reader x Stu Macher

Day 7: threesome

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, threesome, cheating, oral (m receiving)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Being sisters came with double the amount of clothes, gossiping in the middle of the night over a bowl of cereal, and liking the same boys. You and Tatum had very different taste in men — she was a James Van Der Beek girl and you preferred Johnny Depp —, but there was something about Stu Macher that pulled both of your heartstrings. 

‘’I saw him first, I call dibs on him,’’ Tatum argued, fighting for Stu. 

‘’He’s not a cute skirt at the mall, you can’t call dibs on a person, Tatum.’’ 

She narrowed her eyes at you. ‘’I don’t care! He’s mine. Back off.’’ 

A series of arguments drove you into a game of who would win Stu Macher. The first to kiss him would win. 

For weeks, you and Tatum competed for Stu, flirting with him at school and at every party. You’d offer him a drink and she would try to get him to dance with her. Stu liked having two sisters flirting and fighting for him, it was exciting. But the game came to an end when Stu kissed Tatum on a Friday night.

‘’I won,’’ she said when she came home that night, a smug smile on her face after sticking her tongue in Stu Macher’s mouth all night. 

Since that night, Tatum assumed she had won, but the hand currently inside your panties playing with your clit was his. 

Your hips bucked at his touch, asking for more. 

Coming behind Stu, Billy laughed as he looked down at you, so needy for his friend’s fingers. ‘’Fucked you twice today and you’re still begging for more?’’ 

Stu looked over his shoulder. ‘’Two times?!’’

Billy hummed, looking smug. ‘’Bet she’s still full with my cum,’’ he teased, his words causing a mixture of embarrassment and excitement to wash over you. 

Stu looked back at you, his hand stopping all movements. ‘’Is that right? You and pretty boy had some fun without me?’’ 

‘’Well, that’s your fault for being at the mall with the wrong sister,’’ Billy said, crashing on the bed.

‘’Tatum told me she was getting lingerie. I couldn’t say ‘no’ to that,’’ Stu defended, being a sucker for women in lingerie.

‘’And lingerie is better than this?’’ Billy asked, tweaking one of your nipples over your shirt and making you mewl. ‘’I don’t think so.’’ 

You moved your hand down over your panties — right over Stu’s hand — and bucked your hips again. ‘’Stu, please.’’ 

The latter cooed, but didn’t give you what you wanted. ‘’Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’’ He pinched your clit, making you moan, then withdrew his hand from your panties. ‘’Such little slut.’’ 

His condescending tone was turning you on, your arousal mixing with Billy’s cum inside you. 

‘’Are you gonna be a good girl tonight?’’ Billy asked, rolling on his side so his face was close to yours. ‘’Since you’re already full down here.’’ He caressed over your panties, feeling the wetness seep through the thin fabric. ‘’Stu and I are gonna fill you up here,’’ Billy explained, dragging his hand up to your lips. He pressed his thumb and you opened your mouth, catching it and sucking on it. ‘’Gonna suck our cocks until we cum and swallow it all, won’t you babydoll?’’ 

You nodded and Billy pulled his thumb out of your mouth, now coated with your saliva, then sat up and reached for his belt to undress. On your right, Stu was doing the same, his stiff cock underneath his pants begging to feel your warm mouth around it. It’s been a few days and he was missing it — missing you.

Once both boys had their cock freed completely, you kneeled on the floor before them and debated who to taste first. Stu’s was red at the tip and shined with pre-cum. He reached down to his cock, pulling his hand up and down on himself before you. 

‘’Can’t pick, uh?’’ Stu teased, continuing to jerk himself. ‘’Let me help you. I say I’m first since he got you to himself all afternoon.’’

It seemed fair enough. 

You moved toward Stu and started by mouthing the tip, tongue lazily teasing him. He watched from above, choking on a breath as you took him into your mouth in one fluid motion, sinking down as deep as you could manage. You slid your tongue against the sensitive underside as you stared up at him through fluttering lashes. 

‘’You like this? Taking my cock like it’s fucking candy?’’ 

You hummed around him, continuing your motions for a few more seconds, then pulled back and moved to Billy, doing the same. His hand immediately went to your hair, cupping the back of your head to keep you there. You tried to come up more for air, but Billy held you in place, needing your mouth a bit longer. 

While your mouth was busy and full, Stu reached down to pull your shirt up and cup one of your tits, fiddling with it while he jerked himself and waited for his turn. He would never say it out loud, but fuck do you look good with his best friend’s cock in your mouth. 

Eventually, Billy let you switch, a string of saliva connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock as you turned back to Stu. Their cocks were mere inches from your lips, making it easy for your mouth to go from a cock to another. You took it deep, eliciting deep moans and groans from them. 

At some point, the ache between your legs had returned. You had tried to squeeze your thighs to get some friction, but it wasn’t nearly enough. You wished they would both fill you up and fuck you until you can’t feel your legs. 

But tonight was not about you.

Stu was the first to shoot his load, his face contorting in ecstasy and thighs trembling as you jerked what you wouldn’t take with your hand. You made sure to not swallow anything, then moved to Billy, a mix of saliva and cum dripping from the corners of your lips. It was a sight right from an adult tape you can rent at the nearby blockbuster. 

‘’Such a cum slut, aren’t you?’’ Billy said, smugly looking down at you, your tongue full of his best friend’s seed. 

You let him fuck your mouth the way he liked, looking up at him through the blur of your teary eyes as his sounds of pleasure intensified. Every movement was bringing him closer to the edge. When he knew he couldn’t hold it in anymore, Billy pulled you back and you stuck out your tongue, ready to catch everything he had to give.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble  @luiise  @planetkt  @vampyrgoff  @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover  @Danniackerman

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @Idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Cocky - Gojo Satoru

cw: smut

You hated cocky men, usually because their sense of self confidence or misguided arrogance always left more to be perceived. But when you meet Satoru, that perspective shifts. He was cocky in his own right. He was perfect to the naked eye but, you could never let him know because surely it would go to his head. You didn’t need to tell him though, as he owns the thin line where charisma and cockiness meet. 

Your eyes speak enough words when you meet for a kiss. Firm and assertive, the way his strong arms envelope you. Lips soft against each other, moving in a rhythm that felt natural but still hungry. Both of you, competing for dominance as your tongues dance in unison. His hands explore every dip and crevice of your body, studying it, learning everything that makes you tingle and writhe beneath his touch and he in fact is a fast learner.

As much as you didn’t want to give in to him. He was good, maybe even too good. Kisses against your collarbone leading up into the crook of your neck had you like putty in his hands. An adorable smirk against his red flushed lips, uttering soft whispers of praises into your ear. He was irresistible. Before you realize, he had you between him and his sheets. Limbs wrapped around him as your hands made their way to his hair with the urge to remove the blindfold he always wore. One swift motion and you are met with his crystal eyes. You were doomed. 

You weren’t the only one falling though. To him you were irresistible, he could barely contain himself. Your scent, the way you moaned, the looks you gave him were all driving him insane. He removes your bra with ease, cold hands sliding up your bare body, he cups your breasts. Thumbs brushing over the already stiff buds, a shiver taking over your body. He leans his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth with a soft moan, his other hand coming to massage the other. 

Your back arches at the sudden contact, eyes shut closed as he continues to suck and nibble at your nipples. Hands still kneading at the soft flesh. The delicious contrast of sensations forces you to moan his name. He hums in appreciation as you feel a smirk forming against your hot skin. “You like that don’t you?” he teases, his mouth coming off your nipple. His voice is like silk, smooth and sultry. “Just wait until I go lower…” he whispers once again. 

“Toru…s’ toru..”

His name was like a chant escaping your lips as his face was buried between your velvety thighs. The way he dropped to his knees to please you, eager to taste you, you didn’t know you could get even more aroused than you already were. Satoru could’ve sworn you had him under some type of incantation the way he was lapping at your cunt. Skilled tongue flicking over your clit, long fingers sliding in and out of you. 

A whine escapes from his mouth as you tug on his soft white locks. The vibrations of his moans send jolts of pleasure throughout your body. You didn’t know someone could derive this much pleasure for himself from pleasing you. His arousal was evident as he pressed himself against the bed, in dire need of some friction. To relieve the ache in his cock, that you caused. He was impatient. His free hand coming up to unbutton his jeans, he tugged down his boxers finally releasing his hard on. It took you a moment to realize what he was doing. Stroking himself as he continued to eat you out. The sight was lude but so hot. Your back arched again and you knew you were so close. 

He knew you were close too. He knew from the way your cunt throbbed, the way he had to use his free hand to hold your legs open so they wouldn’t close around his head, the way your hands gripped the soft sheets under you. Whine after whine, moan after moan, both of you reach the epitome of pleasure. Satoru continues to lick and tease you as you ride out your high, savoring every drop that you give him. 

“You taste like heaven..”

A grin appears on his lips as he praises you. He comes to meet your lips again, pressing himself on top of you. 

“What else do you want me to do?” 

[wakeup01]

buttslut

If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.

An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.

“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”

“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.

Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.

“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.

“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”

Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.

Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.

“But I thought you hated this—“

“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.

A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.

“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”

“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.

“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.

“Big and…empty.”

A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.

Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.

Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.

“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.

“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”

[ilthit]

Okay oooone more Cha Cha Cha post. 'Cause have we talked about stuff about that song that I recognize that could never come through to an international audience?

He's from Vantaa. I grew up there in a different time, it's a working class area.

Finnish ballroom culture leans heavily on Latin American dances, and cha cha is one especially associated with fun and parties in a kind of an uncool way, like a conga line, which the act also references.

Finnish drinking culture is drinking too much. Finnish party culture is also drinking too much. You wanna have fun, get prepared for alcohol poisoning.

Finnish songs tend to be sad or angry. Ballroom songs are sometimes the exception, though they can be melancholy too. Finns are kind of stiff and keep their problems to themselves, and Finnish masculinity means showing anger and competitiveness and being funny and clever, but hiding gentleness or vulnerability or need or anything too queer. It's the opposite of Latin heat, it's Nordic chill.

The way to break this is through getting shitfaced. That's what the song is about. You have locked yourself up inside yourself, all your rage and your gentleness have been held in check, you can't take another minute of it, but you know now you can drink. And you drink until finally the rigidity releases its hold. You are free. You are gentle. You are happy. You're not afraid of this world anymore.

The ugliness of the costume, the kind of a comedic reference to Latin culture is not, like, a pisstake on Latin music, but a reference to the bland imitation of it in Finnish ballroom culture. He is mocking himself and his own awkwardness and the specific culture he comes from (I could even say specifically Vantaa), while addressing this experience of being locked inside yourself, needing to drink so it will be socially acceptable or possible for you to defy that which is expected of a Finnish man.

It's not cringe if you were plastered. And when you're plastered, you're brave enough to be cringe.

[umbrella-show]

ᴏʜ, ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ!

When you were transported to this world, you had just so happened to land in the unexplored forest close to the Cookie Kingdom. You had quickly stumbled across it and were seen by a cookie.

You were soon connected to the Legend of the Baker and cookies insisted you should  officially become ruler of the Cookie Kingdom.

Custard Cookie III was a bit reluctant at first. He did really want to be king, but you were the Baker. You were WAY more important than him. You should definitely rule!

However, the minute you were officially crowned, he ran up to you and begged you to teach him how to be a great ruler so one day, when you step down, he can rule.

And you, being sympathetic and not thinking of a reason why this could be a bad idea, accepted.

Ever since, he’s been visiting you whenever he can and persistently asking about what you do as a ruler.

He wants to know everything. He wants to become a just and powerful king when he eventually takes the throne!

As he gets to know you more, visits become almost daily. He rants to you about anything and everything.

He mostly rants about what he would do as king. How he would help his kingdom thrive. It warms your heart, watching him talk about his desire to make sure every cookie in the kingdom would be happy under his rule.

Eventually, the idea of inheriting the throne almost makes him feel a bit bad. If you ever had to give up power, it would be because something bad would have to happen to you.

He doesn’t want that! It makes him feel sad. He’s not ready yet.

All of his worries and emotions eventually boil over during one of his visits. He cried and hugged your leg as he told you his realization through tears. 

You spent a while comforting him until he stopped crying, reassuring you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Despite the emotional visit, he acted completely fine the next day when he ran into your office and eagerly began ranting and asking you about royal advice.

He does that the most. He asks you about what you do as ruler and asks you to teach him how to do it so he’s prepared.

Overall, he really looks up to you. He wants to be just like you. He’s like a younger sibling, copying everything you and proclaiming he’ll be just like you. Just like the legendary Baker.

“Why are you looking at so many papers?”

You looked over at Custard Cookie III, who was standing on a chair and peering down at the document you were currently reading. He was visibly confused, his eyes trying to read it. His voice raised as he grew slightly frustrated at the hard time he was having trying to read the document.

“I can’t understand any of this! What does frivolous even mean?!”

You only chuckled, tapping your pen against the table. You gently ruffled his fluffy golden hair, causing him to pout and complain.

“H-Hey, watch the crown!”

Smiling, you stopped, returning to your previous task. Your eyes were glued onto the document, carefully reading word by word. Your eyes shifted from one word to the next and Custard could easily notice the intense focus in your eyes as you carefully read the fine print.

“Most of these papers are about approving trades from the Jelly Bear train and other suppliers, which I have to sign. Some are letters from one of the other Kingdoms that are mostly invites for dances or just meet ups. A lot of those are from the Hollyberry kingdom and Golden Cheese Kingdom.”

You responded, looking over the last paragraph and signing your signature at the bottom of the paper. You set the multiple paged document aside, grabbing another from the pile and starting the process all over again. Custard poted, raising his handmade scepter into the air and declaring.

“Well, when I’m king I’ll ban paperwork, so you’ll never have to do any again!”

You chuckled, finding his naivety amusing. You put your pen down, flexing the stiff muscles in your hand and stretching your arms in the air. Silence filled the room as you stretched, before you felt Custard suddenly grab the hem of your outfit, gently tugging. He looked up at you, his face troubled and his voice soft.

“Can we do something else?”

You stared at him, then the papers, then back at him. He was making puppy dog eyes. You could feel your resolve weaken at the sight. You softly sighed, getting up from your office chair and grabbing your coat. You could see Custard was beaming from the corner of your eyes, making you smile as he hastily grabbed his scepter.

“Alright. How about a walk through the garden?”

“Yay!”

You giggled at his excitement while you buttoned up your coat and walked over to the office doors, holding them open for him. You watched as he raced out the door and took your hand, practically skipping down the halls. You smiled as you saw he occasionally glanced at the banners and decorations hung on the walls.

“I can’t for this all to be mine one day. I’m going to be the best king anyone’s ever seen!”

“I believe you will.”

You quietly agreed, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He giggled as he began to run quicker down the walls and pulling you with him.

“I can’t wait to be king!”

Dont focus too much on the Baker's design I'm still tryin to figure it out 😭 🙏

[tragedy-of-commons]

fuck it we ball. hsr prom date hcs because i am on something different tonight. based on my very limited experience.

dan heng

he's painfully awkward. like you expected it when you asked him to be your date but it's even worse than you predicted...

he DID pick you up and he WAS almost an hour early, causing you to rush down the stairs and almost trip (not very magical-teen-coming-of-age-moment-like of you). that kind of lightened the mood though.

also painfully sweet! upon your arrival he gives you a boutonniere/corsage that matches your outfit which he had managed to keep hidden. his sweaty palms were not just because he was nervous, then...

march helped him pick it out, he admits with red-tipped ears. that makes sense, because she was suspiciously interested in what you were wearing to the function.

but he did also forget to pick out one for him. oops.

during the slow dance bit, his hands are sweaty. you don't care because your eyes lock and there's the fuzziness curling in your gut that plagues you whenever you're with dan heng.

overall, a good experience! polite and always willing to humor your whims, even if he's a little stiff.

and if you peck him on the cheek after he walks you back to your doorstep, well, that's alright with him. more than alright.

black swan

life of the party. not in a screaming-getting-way-too-into-the-music kinda way, but in the way that everyone wants a sliver of her attention. she's always relaxed, interesting to talk to, and dreamy to boot! it wouldn't be any different at prom.

but black swan, above all else, wants to just... spend time with you. anyone that wants to chat can wait until later, when she's not watching you stuff snacks into your pockets with a fond look in her faraway eyes.

to commemorate the occasion, you're cajoled into the photobooth where you both hold up props and make funny faces for the camera. you know black swan doesn't cherish much above memories, even if they're immortalized in a gag reel where you're clad in silly-straw glasses and her in a purple mustache.

but in the last photo, right before the camera flashes, she sneaks a kiss on your cheek. your eyes are blown wide in surprise in the picture and that's her favorite part!

surprisingly adept at dancing. depending on your taste, she will either dip you dramatically and take the lead, or fall into your steps and try to make you feel more comfortable if you're nervous.

cherishes any memento from the event. she does the teasing, though, so don't get any ideas about poking fun at her for being sappy.

a great date, i dare say.

aventurine

it's a given that both of you look the best. dressed to the nines.

the whole thing is a bit sensationalized, though. mostly because he's used to everything being treated like a spectacle, aventurine tries his best (while looking like he isn't trying at all) to give you a good time.

his saving grace is that... he's here with you. everything is more enjoyable this way, even the distastefully loud music matches the pulse in his ears when he looks at y💥💥

his favorite part of the event, surprisingly, is when you ask him to ditch with you early. makes a little joke like "wow, are you having that bad of a time with me?" but there's a bit of weight behind it that you can sense. anyway, you answer by rolling your eyes and pulling him outside.

away from the noise, pretenses drop and You Hold His Hand, telling him that any time with him is a good time. but this is infinitely better, even if you're both just stood in the parking lot.

you both decide to stay a little longer. at the end of the night, the principal gets into one of those dunking booths for the children to throw balls at to get them dunked in water. aventurine bets you a date that he'll hit the target.

you know he'll win (his luck kind of scares you), so of course you take him up on that wager, very excited to lose. it's very sweet.

lol he does hit the target

you both are prom celebrities for the rest of the night with another date set in stone a week from now!

kafka

imo she would make the best date out of everyone on this list.

mostly because any outing with kafka is almost cataclysmic in its impact... starting when she pops over at your place to help you get ready! surprise!

zips you up/adjusts your lapels/make sure your makeup looks good/whatever is part of this whole routine for you. she does so while humming a dulcet tune. she wants to be involved with every aspect of your pivotal prom experience tbh. keen on making memories like black swan is, but the effort is unconscious.

also. since blade has his driver's license, she basically bribed him into being your chauffeur for the night. i think that'd be a fun detail.

if you suck at dancing, never fear, because she also isn't very good (or so she says, but she's kafka, so of course she makes it work).

is not opposed to silly photobooth pics but she'd rather have someone take a candid of you both together by persuading them nicely - more her speed.

her eyes are ENCHANTING in that dim lighting... i just know... you get so distracted that you trip over her feet. silver wolf, the resident DJ that the school hired, sees and laughs.

has that tattered jacket thrown over whatever she decides to wear. she drapes it over you if you get cold due to the weather or temperature inside of the building.

[celiastjamesoscar]

To Be Alone

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Being alone was something special to Wednesday, but being alone with you was sacred. And she refused to share you with anyone else, even if that meant owning up to her feelings

A/N: this is part 1 of a series. If you would like to be included in the Taglist for it, let me know!

Warnings: slight friends with benefits, jealous Wednesday, snarky Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

My Masterlist

The sound of obnoxiously loud music rang throughout the room as the students of Nevermore danced in sporadic movements, and none matched the rhythm of the music. Crowds were never a fan of Wednesday’s, but she would put up with the brightest colors and loudest thumping of music to get a glimpse of you.

It was out of character for Wednesday to want anything romantic in her life, let alone with someone like you.

To put it nicely, you were just like Wednesday, a snarky asshole whose mouth sometimes got you in trouble. But you were also more friendly than Wednesday could ever be; you cared for others deeply, while Wednesday barely superficially cared for them. But when your warm, soft lips met Wednesday’s cold, stiff ones in the darkness of the woods on the coldest of winter nights, Wednesday felt her heart reach a warmth it had never known.

Your relationship with the Addams girl was a weird one, and you never expected her to be someone who would enjoy a friends-with-benefits situation. But when Wednesday called you at an ungodly hour and asked, no, told you that you were going to be her romantic partner for dinner with her family, you didn’t refuse her.

Wednesday prepped you on the car ride to dinner and told you everything you would need to say; you and Wednesday met through fencing class and soon became friends after Wednesday bested you in a duel. That information was vital to the story, according to Wednesday. You two only started to date after a romantic walk through the local graveyard, and you shared a kiss on the tombstone of the late Marilyn Thornhill.

The dinner was a peaceful one, with all things considered. You won the approval of Gomez Addams, and you seemed even to impress Grandmama. Morticia adored you, but she saw right through her daughter’s scheme of forcing you into a fake relationship with her. Of course, she would never tell Wednesday that she knew her daughter was lying to her about her relationship. Still, Morticia enjoyed watching her daughter pretend to understand the beauty and pain that is love. And Morticia knew that after enough time, Wednesday would slowly start to realize she had feelings for you.

After that dinner, you kissed Wednesday’s lips for the first time, entirely by accident. You had leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but your sudden movement had startled the shorter girl, causing her to turn her head quickly, and when she did, her lips brushed yours. Instead of pulling back, Wednesday leaned deeper into the kiss and soon gripped your neck, trying to pull you impossibly closer as her lips connected with yours. She soon became addicted to them, and she refused to let anyone else taste them, and she soon started up an agreement with you; no feelings were involved, just late-night stolen kisses and moonlit strolls through the woods. But now, as she watched you talk with other women who weren’t her, she felt her chest tighten with anger.

“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid asked as she suddenly appeared beside the girl, startling Wednesday out of her thoughts. Enid had a suspicion of the goth girl’s interest in you, even though Wednesday refused to acknowledge it.

“Staring at Y/N with my autistic eyes,” Wednesday deadpanned, and the ravenette’s statement took aback Enid. “Um, okayyy,” Enid awkwardly replied as she gently placed her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders, slowly turning the girl, “I don’t know what to do with that information, but let’s go over here, where you can’t stare at Y/N.”

Truth be told, you weren’t doing anything to provoke jealousy in anyone, especially Wednesday. But the Addams loathed seeing you smile while talking to Yoko. Jealousy was a feeling she knew all too well, and it only happened with you. And for that, she would potentially murder you in your sleep tonight. It would be a clean murder, nearly no blood at all, but it put a frown on Wednesday’s lips; she wanted your murder to be a gory one, one that would bless her dreams of haunting images of you for the rest of her days, but the thought of drawing out your murder made Wednesday feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: sadness.

“No,” Wednesday stated as she shook off Enid’s grip and continued watching you talk to the vampire. It was a dull dance, and you were only here to socialize and to make Wednesday jealous, which was working.

“Why are you so keen on watching Y/N talk to Yoko? They are roommates, like you and I,” Enid cheerfully replied, hoping to help ease the tension in Wednesday’s shoulders, but it only seemed to worsen. “Enid, three-fourths of this institution thinks that you and I are together romantically,” was all Wednesday said, and Enid picked up the hint.

“Point taken. So then, why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Like a normal person would do instead of staring at her like a creep,” Enid suggested, but judging by the glare her roommate gave her in return, she assumed that Wednesday hated the suggestion. “Well, if you’re going to be a loser whose only way of flirting is staring at Y/N until she notices you, then I don’t think you will have any luck at pulling her. But I wish you the best,” Enid stated as she quickly looked at you before returning her attention to Wednesday. She gave the goth a small hug-which Wednesday did not return-before skipping off to go God knows where.

It was as if Enid’s presence was stopping you from feeling Wednesday’s uncomfortable glaring, and as soon as the werewolf was gone, your eyes automatically found Wednesday’s dark ones.

You politely excused yourself from Yoko before walking over to Wednesday with a smug smile on your lips. Wednesday hated that smile on you, not because it looked terrible; it was quite the opposite. That smirk did something to her; it stirred something profound inside her, and she hated the beast you awoke in her.

“My lady,” you husked in a raspy voice as you took Wednesday’s hand in your own and bowed while placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “What were you two talking about?” Wednesday asked, wasting no time in finding out if she was going to murder Yoko as well.

“Relax, my dove. We were just talking about ‘The Haunting of Hill House,’ nothing to worry about,” you replied softly as you stood up straight and gently caressed the more petite girl’s hand.

Wednesday scoffed at the pet name and tried to pull her hand out of your grip, but it only caused her to draw you closer. “You miss me that much?” You asked with a smirk as you placed Wednesday’s hand on your chest, and instead of pulling away, the more petite girl slowly ran her hand up your chest and stopped as she took your necklace between her polished black fingers.

It was a gift from Wednesday, of all people, and you wore it with pride like it was your last name. You never took it off, and in a way, it acted like a collar; no matter how far you strayed from Wednesday, people would look at it and automatically know who you belonged to.

The necklace itself was a golden chain that ended with a small circle. The circle had gold-colored beads with small, black dots in the middle. And in the center of that circle was a golden ‘W’ with a line attached to it, holding the W in place.

“You still wear it,” Wednesday stated as she flipped the W between her fingers, gently caressing it with her thumb.

“‘If you ever take this off, I will rain hellfire down on you and your family until the end of the earth. I will haunt you in this life and the next; you will never be able to get rid of the image of me standing over your lifeless body if you were ever to remove this necklace.’ Those were your exact words,” you recalled with a smirk as you watched Wednesday play with the necklace. “But hey, at least you think of us together in the next life.”

“No,” she simply stated, and you were going to argue back, but she pulled you down to her level by the necklace, “If you ever tell anyone I have plans with you in the next life, I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Fester.”

The laugh you gave Wednesday in response angered her beyond belief, but the sound of it infested her stomach with spiders, and if she wasn’t careful, she might even admit to caring about you. “Jokes on you, Uncle Fester is my best friend. We are basically inseparable,” you remarked as you stood back up, and Wednesday let go of the necklace.

“I hate that you are his favorite person,” Wednesday mumbled under her breath and then cleared her throat as she remembered why she needed to talk to you, “I will be needing your assistance this weekend.”

“And why’s that?” You asked with a smirk. You knew it was parent’s weekend, and Wednesday needed to keep up the act of you two being together; you just wanted to hear her admit it. “My parents are coming this weekend; you must be there to prove to them that I am capable of feeling emotions other than intense anger and homicidal thoughts,” Wednesday deadpanned as the loud music slowly turned into a softer one, a waltzing song.

You didn’t recognize the beautiful melody, but you stuck out your hand toward the smaller girl. “Can I have this dance?” You asked with a soft smile, and if it were under any other circumstance, Wednesday would have said yes. “No,” she dryly replied while slapping your hand away, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t know it was a question,” you stated.

“It’s not; I just like allowing you to think that you have a say in what you get to do.”

“You are a woman after my own heart, Wednesday Addams,” you joked, and Wednesday scoffed at you. “In your wildest dreams,” the goth girl stated as she walked away from you, but you followed her.

“So what will this weekend trip entail? Do I need to start flushing my teeth and putting on chapstick?” You questioned while following the smaller girl out of the ballroom. “Why do you not already floss your teeth?” Wednesday asked with an eyebrow hitched, clearly displaying her irritation that you don’t floss regularly.

“Ummm, because it’s pointless? I brush my teeth twice daily. Isn’t that enough?” You retorted with a curious look. “One day, you are going to wake up in the middle of the night, and all of your teeth will have fallen out of your brainless head. When that happens, I shall make a necklace out of them and force you to wear it as a remembrance of our conversation about flossing,” Wednesday stated as she walked toward her room. She had a weird way of showing affection toward you.

When Wednesday reached her dorm, she opened the door and tried to close it on you, but you caught it in just enough time and stepped into her room. You shut the door as you followed the ravenette toward her desk. “Okay, but seriously Wednesday. What do you want me to do when Mr. and Mrs. Addams arrive?” You questioned with a serious expression, and when Wednesday looked up at you, she missed your usual playful demeanor.

“Be normal. You’ve been around them before; why do you still ask me how you should act around them?” Wednesday questioned as she loaded paper into her typewriter. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I hate lying to people! And your mom is hot, so that also makes me nervous,” you responded with a little bit of defensiveness. But for an unknown reason, Wednesday felt her heart slowly break at mentioning your attraction to her mother.

“Do not remind me of your infuriating attraction to my mother,” Wednesday deadpanned as she began typing, “And we aren’t lying to them, so you don’t need to worry.”

A small scoff left your lips at her comment, but then a mischievous smile overtook your lips as you found a loophole. Carefully, you leaned an elbow on Wednesday’s desk and smirked at the ravenette, who seemed ignorant of the mistake she made.

“So, we aren’t lying to them, correct?” You asked in a calm voice as your eyes examined Wednesday’s face. “Why are you making me repeat myself? You are correct; we are not lying to them. Now, will you please leave me so I can work?” The Addams coldly remarked as she shook the feeling of spiders in her stomach at your proximity. No matter how many stolen kisses you two shared, you always made her nervous and gitty, which was a feeling she both loathed and cherished all the same.

“By that logic, we aren’t lying about our fake relationship? So that means we are actually, in fact, dating?” You asked with that same smirk, and Wednesday knew she had fucked up when she looked into your eyes and only saw hope that didn’t match your playful smirk. “We are not in a romantic relationship at all. We are just two acquaintances who engage in romantic activities from time to time. Now leave,” Wednesday stated as she grew increasingly annoyed with you.

You gave the smaller girl a pathetic sigh as you pushed yourself off the desk and slowly sauntered away from her desk, but before you could get too far, Wednesday grabbed your wrist. When you turned to face her, Wednesday reached up and tightly gripped your uniform tie as she brought your lips down to hers, and you both sighed into the kiss.

It had been too long since you both found comfort in each other’s lips, and Wednesday had started to crave their delicate touch and sweet taste. And, of course, by ‘too long,’ that meant nearly a day. The kiss itself was a chaste one that displayed all of the love and affection Wednesday had for you that she could never verbally say.

Only when oxygen became a problem did you pull away from those heavenly lips. With a small huff, the ravenette rested her forehead against yours as her free hand came up and slowly stroked your jaw.

“I want to rip out your mandible and add it to my bone collection,” was what Wednesday mumbled against your lips, but the words that traveled through your ears were, ‘You mean so much to me that I want to have a piece of you with me forever,’ and you were happy with that translation.

“You have such a way with words, you know that? You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you mumbled against her lips before placing a final kiss on them and turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked as she returned to reality when she didn’t feel your lips anymore and saw you walking toward the door to leave.

“You told me to leave, so that’s what I’m doing,” you replied before a slight smirk overtook your face, “Why, do you miss me already?”

“No. Just be ready by tomorrow morning so we can eat breakfast with them,” Wednesday stated as she continued her work, ignoring the feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving for the night. Most of the time, when her parents visited, you would stay the night in her dorm to further push the agenda that you two were a couple. Definitely not because Wednesday found it hard to sleep without you at night.

“Goodnight, Wednesday. I hope your dreams are just as evil as you are,” you joked as you opened the door, and Wednesday huffed in response as you left the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday hadn’t been working on her novel. She had been writing out all the things you make her feel, and when you had wished nightmares upon her, the final sentence that had made its one onto the page was the thing that shattered her heart the most: ‘Gods should fear the love I have for you.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @baddiebbarbietngz @maskthedwarf @aroaceanxietylemon

[idkyetxoxo]

Criston Cole - Guarded Obsession

Summary - Navigating court gossip and unwanted advances, a confrontation erupts where her obsessive protector, Ser Criston, steps in with fervent determination. His unwavering devotion to her becomes evident, revealing his willingness to defy all norms and protect her at any cost.

Pairing - Criston Cole x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Strong language

Word count - 2158

Masterlist for Criston • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"I believe he's warmed his lady wife's sister's bed more often than hers," I whispered, my wine goblet becoming an extension of my slight hand gestures as Criston's eyes tracked each subtle movement.

"Scandalous news," he murmured, his voice barely rising above the hum of conversation around us. Together, we watched the couple awkwardly mingling with other nobles, their forced smiles and stiff postures betraying the simmering tension beneath the surface.

"And yet, I hear Lady Marjaery is expecting," I continued, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "Though the whispers suggest the father might not be her esteemed husband, but rather the charming stable boy."

Criston stifled a laugh. "The stable boy? Imagine the uproar if her husband were to find out."

"Indeed," I agreed with a smirk. "And what of Lord Cedric's latest escapade, have you caught wind of that?"

"No, but I'm eager to hear," Criston replied, leaning in closer.

"Apparently, he's been seen slipping out of Lady Evelyn's chambers on more than one occasion but here's the twist, Lady Evelyn's husband has been turning a blind eye, likely because he's rather occupied with a young squire himself. It's a whirlwind of infidelities."

Criston chuckled. "It seems everyone's playing musical beds these days. Speaking of unusual liaisons, have you heard about Lord Tommen?"

"Ah, yes," I said, grinning. "Lord Tommen, who has more interest in the blacksmith's son than any lady of the court. It's caused quite the stir, but he doesn't seem to mind the gossip one bit."

"Bold as ever," Criston remarked with a smirk. "I suppose it takes all kinds to keep the court entertained."

"Princess, may I have this dance?" a voice interrupted, cutting through the murmur of conversation that surrounded us.

My head snapped up, momentarily forgetting the grand ballroom and its dazzling surroundings. A young lord stood before me, exuding an air of confidence as he awaited my response.

"That is a kind offer, my lord, but—" I began, attempting to frame a polite refusal. Before I could finish, my mother, Alicent, approached with quick, purposeful strides, her gaze fixed firmly on me.

"She would love to dance, wouldn't you?" she interjected, her tone a blend of expectation and command, as though the matter were settled by her mere insistence.

The young lord, Lord Baratheon, shifted awkwardly, his face betraying a mixture of eagerness and discomfort.

"Lord Baratheon, the princess will join you on the floor," my mother continued, her words decisive and unyielding.

He opened his mouth as if to correct her but seemed to think better of it. "Please, Your Grace, Lord Baratheon is my father. I am simply Alyn," he said, offering a respectful bow before moving to the edge of the dance floor, where he waited with an awkward half-smile.

As my mother turned to me, her eyes flashed with a simmering rage that was impossible to ignore.

"I have told you time and time again to act like a princess," she scolded, her voice low but firm. "Stop standing off in corners to gossip and laugh. It is unseemly."

I sighed deeply, knowing this was a battle I was unlikely to win. The weight of her disapproval settled heavily on my shoulders.

"Ser Criston?" she called, and the man beside me tensed visibly. "I expect better from you. You may be her sworn protector, but that does not mean you indulge her in evading her duties," she continued sharply, her eyes narrowing at him.

Criston nodded, his expression stoic.

"Ser Criston is not at fault for my behavior," I interjected, but my mother spun to face me, her frustration barely contained.

"Do not defend each other," she snapped. "Frankly, I am tired of this friendship you've formed. Do not give me a reason to have you removed from your duties," she warned, her voice cutting through the ballroom's din.

Without waiting for a response, she turned her back on us, her skirts swishing with finality.

"Now go be a good girl and dance with Lord Baratheon's son," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for further discussion.

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the evening's expectations pressing down on me. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I set my drink down on a nearby table with a resigned clink.

"In a while, Ser Criston," I said with a wry smile, our eyes locking for a brief, charged moment. He nodded, his expression unreadable as he followed my progress toward the dance floor with a gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

As I approached Alyn, the weight of the ballroom's gaze seemed to press down on me. The glimmering chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, golden light, illuminating the swirling couples and lavish decor. Yet, despite the opulence, my focus remained solely on the young lord waiting before me.

I placed my hand in his, allowing him to guide me into the midst of the dancers. The music swelled around us, wrapping us in its rhythmic embrace.

Criston watched from the edge of the dance floor, his internal struggle evident despite his outward composure. He was painfully aware of the inappropriateness of his feelings, feelings he could neither voice nor fully suppress. 

An overwhelming sense of protectiveness enveloped him every time he saw me, a girl whose striking presence was only matched by the grace with which I moved.

As I twirled in Alyn's arms, I could almost feel Criston's gaze searing into my back. His jaw was clenched so tightly that I imagined his teeth might shatter. 

Though his face remained a mask of stoic professionalism, a storm of raw, turbulent emotions brewed in his eyes, a tempest he struggled to contain, lest it consume him entirely.

"Alyn," I said softly, slightly breathless from the relentless movement of the dance. The lilting waltz wrapped us in its rhythmic embrace.

"Yes, Princess?" he replied, his fingers pressing possessively against my waist.

"Perhaps we should take a break," I suggested, yearning for a respite from the endless spinning.

Alyn's eyes flickered with a darker emotion, perhaps frustration at his inability to charm me or an impatience born of entitlement.

"If you must," he conceded, his voice tinged with barely concealed exasperation, as if my request were a significant inconvenience.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, my face contorting into a sour expression. I glanced towards my mother, who shot me a look that unmistakably said, "Fix your face before I do it for you."

As Alyn guided me off the dance floor, the crowd pressed in tighter, adding to my discomfort. Amid the swirling dancers, someone moving backward collided with me, sending a goblet of wine cascading over my dress.

The wine splashed across my gown in a scarlet cascade, the rich, red liquid seeping into the delicate silk like blood staining fresh snow. It clung to my skin, cold and sticky.

"Seven hells," I muttered, frustration evident as I felt the wine seep through to my skin.

"I apologize," the man responsible for the mishap stammered, his face flushed with embarrassment. I waved him off, striving to maintain my composure despite my growing irritation.

"Princess, allow me," Alyn said quickly, pulling out a handkerchief and beginning to dab at the stain. His touch, though ostensibly helpful, carried an unwelcome lecherousness, lingering just a moment too long.

"It's alright," I said, trying to gently push his hand away. Despite my efforts, he persisted.

Alyn's hands were unseemly, lingering on me with a familiarity that was far from appropriate. He seemed to relish this opportunity to play out his fantasies under the guise of assistance. The feel of his touch, so bold and unwelcome, made my skin crawl.

"I said don't touch me," I snapped, grabbing his hand as it trespassed to an inappropriate place.

The sharpness of my voice cut through the room, freezing the surrounding nobles in place.

In a blur of motion, Criston appeared by my side, his grip on Alyn's wrist like iron. The crack of bone echoed as he twisted Alyn's arm behind his back, eliciting a sharp cry of pain that sliced through the ballroom's murmur.

A hush fell over the crowd as Criston leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. "She said stop."

Alyn's eyes widened in alarm, but before he could react, Criston's voice dropped even lower, edged with menace.

"So stop, or by the Seven, I will sever this very hand and feed it to her dragon," he hissed, his tone cold and unyielding. The threat hung in the air, a grim promise of the depths of Criston's protective rage.

My mother, her face a storm of barely contained fury and mortification, rushed forward. Her eyes, a storm of anger, locked onto me and Criston. 

With surprising strength, she pulled Alyn away from Criston, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

"Apologies," she said to Alyn, her voice strained as she attempted to maintain civility. Alyn mumbled curses under his breath, clearly displeased with the turn of events.

"Princess, Ser Criston, take your leave," she commanded, her voice resolute and devoid of any room for dissent.

I sighed deeply, the weight of my actions and the ensuing turmoil pressing heavily upon me. With a resigned nod, I turned to leave the banquet hall, my head lowered in shame and guilt.

Criston's heavy, measured footsteps followed closely behind, each step echoing the gravity of the situation as we exited the grand hall.

As we exited the ballroom, the cacophony of laughter and conversation receded, enveloping us in a tranquil silence as we moved into the cooler, quieter corridors. Each step took us further from the scene of my humiliation, the weight of the evening's events pressing heavily upon me.

"Fucking cunt," I muttered as we reached the sanctuary of my chambers. I began roughly removing my jewelry, the once-glittering gems now marred and sticky from the spilled wine.

"Did he offend you?" Criston asked, his eyes respectfully averted, though his internal struggle was palpable.

I could sense the tension in his posture as I attacked the stubborn stain on my dress with a cloth, frustration evident in each vigorous rub.

"Stupid Baratheon brat," I muttered, almost laughing at the absurdity of the nickname I'd invented in my irritation. The bitterness of it all brought a wry smile to my lips.

"Offend me, he did," I said, throwing the cloth aside in exasperation.

"My mother can't even see past her sense of duty," I continued, gripping my hair in frustration. "It's as if my well-being doesn't matter to her as long as I maintain propriety."

Criston remained silent, his presence a steady anchor amidst my storm of emotions.

I paced the room, venting without restraint. "She apologized to him," I said, disbelief and anger mingling in my voice. "She apologized to the man who dared to lay his hands on me, the princess," I finished, collapsing onto the edge of my bed.

Criston moved closer, his expression dark and protective. "Your mother is bound by duty, Princess, but her actions tonight were unjust," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

"Right," I sighed, closing my eyes and massaging my temples. "No doubt she'll be here later tonight, reprimanding us." I could almost hear the familiar knock on the door, followed by her stern voice. 

Criston's quiet laugh was a comforting sound in the tense atmosphere.

"I believe those are the only words she directs toward us," he remarked, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"The blind leading the blind, that's what she said last time?" I recalled, a laugh bubbling up as the memory resurfaced. It was a sharp, biting phrase, but now, in the safety of my chambers, it seemed almost absurd.

"Indeed it was," he agreed, his smile easing the tension in his face.

"She can't take you from me," I said, leaning forward with a fervent intensity.

"I will not let it happen," he replied, his expression resolute. Though his face was a mask of cool determination, beneath it lay his fierce resolve to remain by my side.

The bond between us was something neither of us would easily relinquish.

"I still remember the first time you stood guard outside my chambers," I said with a wistful smile. "You were so serious, as if the fate of the realm depended on it."

Criston chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "I remember," he said, his eyes twinkling with the memory. "I thought if I showed even a hint of levity, I'd be dismissed on the spot."

"I appreciated your seriousness," I said, my tone softening. "But I also remember sneaking out past you more than once."

"Ah, yes," he replied, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "You were quite the handful. Still are, if I may say so."

I laughed, the sound easing the lingering tension in the room.

"Thank you, Ser Criston," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Your loyalty means more to me than you know."

"For you, my loyalty is unwavering," he replied firmly. "No matter what your mother or anyone else says, I will stand by you." 

Criston knew there was no force that could sever the bond between us.

To him, I was his, his lady to protect, his princess.

A/n - Love a good gossip

[thatgiraffefromtlou]

The Aurora Project

(part 1)

paring: ellie williams x fem!reader(ish?)

summary: as a result of a malfunction, you and ellie awaken from cryosleep aboard a spaceship with no memory. will you find evidence that you’re more than just shipmates? something to give reason to your nagging familiarity to the stranger you wake up next to?

warnings: eventual explicit language, potential for smut in later chapters (depending), close description of the start of a panic attack? maybe? idk that’s what mine feels like. uh cringy teasing idk- lmk if there’s more this is pretty tame-

A/N: ellie loves space, we love ellie, why now combine the two? i’m really gonna try my best to finish this one. because it’s not in the tlou universe i don’t have to match naughtydogs pacing in the games (like i do with my other DYHMN) and can make up my own so it won’t be such a long story! still long and definitely slow burn tho!

work count: 2.6K

– Chapter one –

The hiss of escaping air pierced the silence, a sharp and startling sound that jolted you from your dreamless slumber. Your eyes snapped open, your vision blurry and unfocused, struggling to adjust to the dim light that surrounded you. The metallic taste of cryosleep lingered on your tongue, a bitter reminder of your long suspension. You gasped, drawing in your first conscious breath in what felt like an eternity, the cool air burning your lungs as if you'd forgotten how to breathe.

Disoriented, you fumbled with the release mechanism of your pod, your fingers clumsy and uncooperative. The smooth, cold surface of the controls felt alien under your touch. As the glass canopy finally slid open with a soft whoosh, the chill of the ship's recycled air kissed your skin, causing goosebumps to ripple across your body in its wake. The sensation was both uncomfortable and oddly invigorating, a stark contrast to the numbness of your suspended state.

Your muscles protested vehemently as you pushed yourself up with a groan, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Every fiber of your being ached, as if you'd run a marathon in your sleep. "Where... where am I?" you mumbled to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper, hoarse and dry from disuse. The words felt strange in your mouth, your tongue thick and unresponsive.

The low emergency lights cast an eerie red glow across the vast expanse of the cryobay, creating long, ominous shadows that danced along the walls as they flashed. Your gaze, still adjusting to consciousness, slowly scanned the room, taking in the surreal scene before you. Lines of pods, seemingly endless in number, filled the space, each containing a silent, motionless figure. The dim white light emanating from within the pods created a strange, almost ethereal contrast to the blinking of the red emergency lights, giving the entire bay an otherworldly atmosphere.

As your mind gradually cleared, you slowly started to realize the gravity of your situation. You'd woken from your cryosleep, but why? A small panic began to creep through your chest, its icy tallons wrapping around your heart. Your head swam, an almost floaty feeling overtaking you as you grappled with your new reality. The disconnect between your last conscious memory and your current situation was jarring, leaving you feeling untethered and lost.

You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and clear the fog from your mind. With great effort, you struggled to slide out of your pod, every muscle in your body aching and pleading you to stop. The simple act of movement felt like an insurmountable task, your limbs heavy and uncooperative. You had no idea how long it had been since you'd last used your muscles, but from the way they felt - weak, stiff, and painfully sore - and the way your throat was begging for water, parched and raw, you'd say it had been a pretty significant amount of time. Months? Years? The uncertainty only added to your growing anxiety.

With trembling legs, you finally managed to get on your feet, immediately reaching out to hold onto the edge of your pod for support. The cool metal under your fingers provided only a small measure of comfort. "Hello?" you called out, your voice cracking, barely louder than before. Your heart raced, pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. The sound of your own voice echoing in the vast, silent chamber only intensified your feeling of isolation.

There was no response to your call; all you were met with was the low, persistent hum of the machines around you, the sound of your own panicked breathing, loud in the oppressive silence, and the whoosh of your heart beat in your ears. The lack of any human presence or activity only heightened your sense of unease. Slowly, carefully, you turned your head, your gaze falling upon the pod next to yours. To your surprise and relief, its occupant was stirring, showing signs of life amidst the previous stillness.

A woman with dark auburn hair struggled with the release mechanism of her pod, mirroring your own recent experience. Her movements were just as sluggish and uncoordinated as yours had been. You turned your body, every movement still an effort, and slowly walked around to stand at the foot of her pod. Your progress was painfully slow, each step deliberate as you used the edges of the pods for support, your legs still unsteady beneath you.

As you watched, the glass canopy of her pod slid open with a soft hiss, a type of misty fog slowly spilling out, curling and dissipating in the air. The woman inside sat up, her movements jerky and uncertain. As she looked around, her expression mirrored the confusion you felt, a mix of disorientation and growing alarm evident in her features.

"Are you alright?" you asked, your voice still rough but gaining strength. The woman turned at the sound, your words seeming to bring her down from her disoriented state. Her green eyes, bright and alert despite the lingering effects of cryosleep, met yours. As your gazes locked, a flicker of recognition flooded your brain, quick and elusive. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, quickly replaced by uncertainty and a nagging sense that you should know this person, even though you couldn't place how or why.

"I... I think so," the woman replied, her brow furrowed in concentration. Her voice was as dry and raspy as yours had been, another testament to the long period of disuse. She cleared her throat, the sound harsh in the quiet of the cryobay, before she spoke again. "I'm Dr. Williams. At least, that's what my pod says." She motioned to the foot of her pod, where a nameplate was clearly visible. Her eyes, however, held a mix of confusion and frustration as she continued, "But I can't... I can't remember anything else." She shook her head in defeat, her dark hair falling around her face, adding to her disheveled appearance.

The admission sent a chill down your spine. It wasn't just you, then. The realization that you weren't alone in your confusion was both comforting and alarming.

Your breath caught in your throat as the implications of her words sank in. "I'm…" you began, then paused, suddenly unsure. You looked over to your nameplate at the foot of your pod, reading the name etched there. You gave the woman your name, but your tone was questioning, uncertain, as if you were trying the sound of it for the first time. Your eyes found hers again as you spoke, searching for any sign of recognition or familiarity. "But I don't remember much either," you admitted, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

There was a heavy pause as you both looked around the cryo bank, taking in the rows upon rows of occupied pods, the blinking lights, and the humming silence. A deeper sense of panic began to fill your chest, more intense than before. The enormity of the situation was starting to sink in - you were awake, with no memory, on what appeared to be a massive ship, with potentially hundreds or thousands of others still in cryosleep. "Are we the only ones… awake…?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words too loudly might make the situation more real, more terrifying.

The woman looked back at you, her expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. "I'm not sure... I think so..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. There was a prolonged pause as you both continued to search the room with your eyes, desperately seeking any clue that might shed light on your situation. "But why...?" she finally asked, voicing the question that had been echoing in your own mind. Why? And not just why, but how? How did you end up here, in this unfamiliar place, with gaps in your memory?

You strain to recall your last clear memory, the one that stood out the most was only a fleeting image. A brief flash of signing a document. The paper, you remembered, was meant to secure you the very pod from which you had just awakened. But the reasons behind your signature and your intended destination remained frustratingly elusive. Along with most of your past experiences, these crucial details seemed to have vanished from your mind.

It was as if your brain had undergone a selective wipe, retaining only the information necessary for basic survival. Perhaps even the lessons your experiences had taught you remained, but the experiences themselves had faded away like morning mist. You couldn't help but wonder: Was this a common side effect of cryo sleep? Had the people who placed you in this state warned you about potential memory loss? If so, those warnings were now lost to you as well. How long would this amnesia last? Would your memories ever fully return?

These questions swirled in your mind, each one giving birth to a dozen more, creating a dizzying spiral of uncertainty and confusion. You felt yourself being pulled deeper into this mental whirlpool, losing touch with your immediate surroundings.

Suddenly, the woman called out your name, her voice cutting through your spiraling thoughts like a knife. Your head snapped back to face her, the motion so quick it left you slightly disoriented. As your eyes met hers, you experienced a flooding sensation of familiarity again, a feeling that dissipated as quickly as it had come. The constant ebb and flow of recognition was both frustrating and deeply unsettling. In an attempt to regain your composure, you shook your head, as if trying to physically dislodge the confusion. "Sorry, yeah... I don't know..." you managed to stammer out, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you stood there, locked in a mutual gaze. Neither of you seemed capable of finding the right words to break the heavy silence that had settled between you. The atmosphere was thick with tension, your nerves on edge as you both continued to search each other's faces for any sign of recognition or understanding. Finally, the woman spoke, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Help me out of this thing?" she asked, gesturing to her cryo pod.

You nodded silently, moving to assist her. However, as you reached out, you quickly realized that you weren't in much better shape yourself. Your muscles, still sluggish from the prolonged period of inactivity, protested against even this simple movement. Despite your best efforts, you found yourself offering little more than moral support as she struggled to extricate herself from the pod.

As she finally managed to step out, her hand inadvertently brushed against yours. The brief contact sent an unexpected jolt through your body, an inexplicable warmth spreading from the point of contact and radiating through your chest. Instinctively, your eyes snapped up to meet hers, half-expecting to see a face you'd known your entire life. Instead, you were met with the same mix of confusion and intrigue that you felt mirrored in your own expression. The familiarity of the sensation contrasted sharply with the stranger's face before you, adding another layer to the frustration of your situation.

"We need to figure out what's going on," the woman declared after a moment, her voice carrying a forced confidence that barely masked her underlying uncertainty. You found yourself nodding in agreement once more, still reeling from the unexpected warmth that her simple touch had evoked. It was as if your body remembered something your mind had forgotten, a connection that transcended your current state of confusion.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you took a step back and began to survey your surroundings more thoroughly. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of an exit. The woman seemed to have the same idea, her gaze darting from one corner of the room to another. Without exchanging words, you both began to move away from your pods, heading in the same direction down a long corridor lined with other cryo units. You could only hope that this path would lead you to some answers, or at the very least, a way out of this situation.

As you walked side by side, a thought suddenly surfaced in your mind. "Dr. Williams?" you ventured, turning to look at the woman. She responded with a soft hum, indicating that she was listening. You hesitated for a moment, your eyes dropping to your feet before meeting hers again. "What's your first name? If you can remember, I mean. Might be easier than Dr. Williams..." You trailed off, feeling somewhat awkward about the question.

To your surprise, she let out a soft chuckle. The sound was strangely familiar, sending a small rush of heat to your cheeks. Why was everything about this woman so familiar, so intimately known to you, yet simultaneously foreign? Like smelling something outside in the wind and feeling the emotions attached to that smell, only to not be able to put your finger on what and why. The feeling was tantalizingly close, hovering just at the edge of recognition, like a word on the tip of your tongue. And only sometimes were you blessed with the epiphany of what that smell was, days or even weeks later, that would strike without warning, bringing with it a flood of understanding and the satisfying click of pieces falling into place. "Ellie," she replied, a smile playing on her lips as she watched for your reaction. Your brow furrowed slightly as you processed this information. "You remember that, or was it on the pod?" you asked, unable to keep a hint of teasing disbelief from your voice. After all, you had awakened first, yet she seemed to be recovering her memories more quickly.

Ellie's smile widened, taking on a slightly sheepish quality. "It was on the pod," she admitted, "but it feels right now that I've said it out loud." You nodded, understanding the sentiment. "Ellie..." you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. It yet again felt familiar, comfortable, as if you had said it countless times before.

As the two of you continued your search for an exit from the bay, you couldn't shake the persistent feeling that there was more to your relationship than simply being shipmates or colleagues. The ease of your interactions, the inexplicable warmth you felt in her presence, and the nagging sense of familiarity – it all pointed to a deeper connection. These sensations were too intense, too immediate to be explained by a chance meeting between strangers.

Your eyes drifted to the viewports lining the corridor, taking in the vast expanse of space beyond. The cosmos stretched out infinitely, a silent witness to the mysteries of your past and the uncertainties of your future. As you gazed at the star-studded blackness, you couldn't help but wonder what other secrets it held. What events had led you to this moment? What purpose had brought you to this ship, drifting through the endless void? And most intriguingly, what role did Ellie play in your forgotten past?

The questions multiplied with each step you took, but answers remained frustratingly out of reach. You glanced at Ellie, noticing that she too seemed lost in thought, her brow furrowed in concentration. Perhaps together, you could unravel the enigma of your shared circumstances. For now, all you could do was press forward, hoping that somewhere in this vast ship, you would find the key to unlocking your memories and understanding her true purpose in your life.

chapter 2

A/N: lmk if so if u wanna be in the tag list!

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

would you do a neil fic where he’s a virgin and you and him after going on a few dates finally have sex and you teach him? 😭 i bet he’d be the sweetest in bed

HOW IT'S DONE

Pairing.| Neil Lewis x fem!reader

Summary.| You finally get the opportunity to teach Neil something new.

Warnings.| P in v, riding, loss of virginity. Fluffier for once.

Word count.| .9k

The beads of sweat dribbled down his flustered face. Those whimpering moans of his mixed perfectly with the lavender scent dancing up from the flamed wick. Nibbling at the flesh of his neck, Neil’s mouth went dry, his eyes almost rolled back as his hands ran over your bare back, his toes curled. Your name always sounded so beautiful when he’d pathetically squeak it out. The best bit? His cock wasn’t even in your cunt yet. 

When Neil revealed he was still a virgin, you were shocked, even though you really shouldn’t have been. He was confident and charismatic but also awkward and dorky. Under those baggy shirts, cheap pilot sunglasses and dark long locks of hair was an attractive man who didn’t know how to act the part. His cinephile lifestyle didn’t help much, he much preferred to spend the night on his cheap couch with a classic rolling on the screen. 

Usually, the idea of fucking a virgin seemed risky. They were needy, Neil was no different. But he was kind, thoughtful, genuine and you saw you’d see his blue eyes sparkle whenever he saw you. Not to mention, he had a magnificent dick, he just didn’t know how to properly use it yet. 

The first time you gave him head was in the back of your car. You surprised him with a trip to the drive-ins, but your choice of movie was poor. It was an easy alternative to pass the time that both parties agreed on. His cock was thick and long, all oddly charming geeks seemed to have it. His base was slightly trimmed to make him feel that little bit sexier. He lasted a decent amount of time, his legs shook as he came in your mouth, of course after asking for permission. 

It was after your fifth date that you tried to fuck him. Apparently the foreplay was too much for him, he unexpectedly came in his pants whilst eating you out. His cheeks were flustered pink as he apologized continuously. You assured him that it was okay and instead watched another movie to help ease his humiliation. Reattempting the sacrifice of his virginity, Neil had lit a newly bought candle, put fresh sheets on his bed and you both agreed to skip the foreplay. 

Your wet twitching lips teased his needy cock, Neil mumbled out, his hands on your hips as you straddled his thin pale legs. 

“You ready?” you whispered into his ear. 

“U-uhh, yeah” Neil shuddered as he wrapped his hand around the base of his member. 

The tightness of the condom was already torturous enough. You helped guide his tip to your entrance and gradually you slipped down his member. Neil gasped out, your tight walls stilled his twitching movements. Doing a breathing exercise to relax his sensations, Neil squeezed his eyes shut, his aching hips twitched. 

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Neil gulped, his voice shook as his hold on your back tightened. 

You chuckled out slowly, a wide grin on your lips as gently kissed his lips. “No Neil, feels so good” you complimented. It was good to build his on confidence, not that his size didn’t feel perfect inside of you right now. In an attempt to rock your world, he tried to thrust up. “No, no baby. Let me do all the work” you ordered sweetly. 

Neil grumbled in return and relaxed his stiff shoulders. “I wanna help out” he gasped out, his hands ran up and down your back. Sighing in defeat, you coached him to slowly push up and down. Gently, you rocked your hips back and forward around his twitching size. The sound of your quiet moans caused his legs to tremble. His vision was blurry and heat built rapidly in his body. The amount of pleasure that was growing in his lower region felt too heavy to be locked in.  

“Come on baby, hold it back a little longer” you begged with a wide smile. 

“M’trying to” he whined. 

“You’ve got this baby, feel so fucking full” you moaned out, your hips bounced perfectly up and down. 

Neil stiffened his hips as your moans grew louder, his hold tightened as he kissed up and down your sweating neck. A wicked grin grew on your lips as he brushed your cervix, you focused on that aim as you went quicker and rougher. Every thrust made Neil moan your name more pathetically.

“Baby… Baby I’m gonna-” Neil panted as he suddenly finished. 

His toes curled and thin legs squirmed as Neil groaned out. The both of you fell down, your chest pressed to his as he laid on the bed, his member twitching insanely inside of you. Neil shuddered out, mumbling curse words as he pressed his head to your neck, heaving for air. You hummed out, your digits caressed over his hot skin as Neil felt his vision come back. 

Gently, you slipped off of him and laid beside him, your head on his chest as he embraced you. His eyes fluttered, a relieving smile on his face as he murmured your name. 

“That was fucking devine” Neil exhaled, his hand squeezed your bicep. 

“You did so good” you complimented.

He gave you a tender kiss, his tongue explored your mouth as you hummed. 

“Want me to kiss you down there?” he smirked, his hand brushing against your sweating inner thigh. 

“How thoughtful of you” you grinned as you spread your legs apart.