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cherrychilli · 2 months

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18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, dry humping, nipple play Summary: Eddie turns up at your house one night and in need of help so you show him how far you're willing to go to help out your closest friend. WC:4K

For the most part you were indifferent towards Jeff Parker. Neither of you ran in the same circles and he was usually the type to keep his head down but add a little alcohol to the equation and the guy turns into a regular Jay Gatsby — all over indulgent and the life of the party. You just wish that party wasn't taking place 15 feet away from your bedroom window.

It was all the drunken hollering and the thumping music that kept you up that night, bone-tired after pulling double shifts at work. It was the police sirens blaring an hour later that ripped you out of a dream just as you were finally able to doze off with your head buried beneath your pillow. And it was the tapping on your bedroom window that came ten minutes later that made you spring up and nearly shoot out of your own skin.

"Eddie! what the hell?", you whisper shout into the darkness of your bedroom, recognizing his shaggy haired silhouette crouched behind the glass and backlit by nearby streetlamps.

You figured he must have climbed up the lattice to get up onto your roof as he begins to point urgently at the lock on your window, mouthing at you to let him in.

Kicking off your covers, you quickly make your way over to the window and unlock it for him, pulling it open and stepping aside to allow him to barrel roll into your room and heave a heavy sigh of relief.

Sprawled out on your carpeted bedroom floor, Eddie pants the exertion away and you leave him there to rest, connecting the dots yourself.

"I told you to stop dealing at parties", you deadpan, shaking your head in that world weary way you often slip into when it comes to Eddie but all that seems to do is trigger a grin that makes him look suspiciously chipper.

"Got to make a living don't I?", he replies from the floor, his hair all wild and fanned out in an unruly halo of frizz and curls.

It's far too late at night for you to be bothered enough to get into it with Eddie so you simply roll your eyes at him instead, making sure to shut your window to keep the chilly night air from seeping into your warm, cozy room.

The music that'd been playing next door has finally been silenced, you're pleased to notice but as you look out the window you see that the patrol car responsible for making Eddie and several other partygoers disperse and hightail it out of there remains parked in front of Jeff's house.

"I'll make a move once the fuzz's gone. I'm parked a couple blocks away so it should be fine", Eddie explains casually, able to anticipate your concern but you keep your eyes fixed on the car and its flashing lights for a moment longer, chewing on your bottom lip.

The thing was, in a town where almost everyone had it out for your best friend, you weren't too fond of the idea of him driving home at this time of night with his pockets stuffed with illicit party favours. Hell, Eddie often gets pulled over in the middle of the day by asshole officers hoping to book him on a possession charge. And since the trailer park isn't exactly closeby, the likelihood of him running into another cop and getting pulled over seems way too high for your liking.

The thought of it alone makes your stomach plummet. You just didn't want to see your closest friend getting into any kind of trouble. Especially if you could do something to help prevent it.

Turning away from your window, you eye Eddie intently while he glances up at you from where he's still laid out on his back, his breathing even now that he's managed to catch his breath.

"I think you should stay the night. It'll be safer that way", you tell him plainly.

Though most of your room is draped in darkness, Eddie's lit up in a column of orange light that pours in through your window so it's easy for you to make out the way his eyebrows rise up and disappear behind his bangs, his eyes growing wider too as he props himself up on his elbows to look at you.

"Y' sure?", he asks and you can feel him studying your face closely, looking for any signs of doubt or hesitation.

You know he'll find none though. Sure, this is all very spur of the moment stuff but you have no reservations about having Eddie stay over. Exactly the opposite.

"Yeah. But be quiet, okay? My whole family's asleep", you tell him as he begins to pick himself up off the floor, face beaming as he grins at you and steps closer to where you're standing.

"Ya big softie. All worried about me, huh?", he posits, tipping his head to the side in a way that at any other time, you might have considered cute. Right now however, all he's managed to conjure is annoyance given how little sleep you've had tonight.

So you narrow your eyes at him, the rest of your expression flat as he makes the mistake of bringing his face closer to yours, giving you the opportunity to reach out and pinch his earlobe between your thumb and forefinger, twisting the soft skin until his teasing grin deflates and he throws up his hands in surrender.

"Fuck, uncle, uncle!", he calls out while keeping his voice as low as possible, face pinched in pain and looking all kinds of helpless before you decide to let go with a pleased scoff, a small smirk playing on your lips too.

Eddie rubs a hand over his newly freed ear, his gaze wandering away from your eyes, seemingly sizing you up before he takes a step back, no longer within your reach.

"By the way...", he utters cautiously, his gaze returning to your face when another smile curves his lips.

"Nice get up".

Confused, you take a look at yourself, your face turning warm as you tug down on the hem of your oversized t-shirt, hoping in vain that Eddie hadn't caught a glimpse of the panties you've got on underneath when he was down on the floor.

Though he doesn't confirm it, the look on his face says it all — that overly pleased smirk and that telltale glint lighting up his deep brown eyes. It irks you for just a moment before you surrender with a sigh.

"Eddie, I'm too exhausted for this. Please, can we skip the teasing and just go to sleep?"

A look of vague disappointment flashes over Eddie's face when you're able to quickly brush aside your momentary embarrassment, padding over to your side of the bed, no longer concerned with how much of your bare thighs might be on display before you pull back the covers and get in.

"C'mon, get in already", you urge him to join you as you motion to the vacant space on the left side of your bed, fighting off a yawn in the process because your eyelids are starting to feel heavy again.

It's Eddie who looks a little rattled now as he eyes your bed, his fingers fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket with restless uncertainty before he rids himself of it, setting it on your desk chair before he bends down to begin unlacing his shoes in the dark.

You hear him struggle while he's crouched down, whispers of 'shit', 'fuck' and 'god fucking damnit' said loud enough for you to hear while you giggle at him, feeling a bit more at ease now that you're reminded of the kind of dork Eddie is at his core — sharing a bed should be no problem.

You've already turned over, your back to Eddie and your cheek resting on your pillow by the time you feel him slide in under the covers next to you, mattress dipping under his weight.

"I'll take off before your folks get up, I promise", he says to you and you hum back a sleepy 'okay' in reply, nuzzling into your pillow.

With that out of the way and both of you settled in bed, you thought that would be the end of it until next morning but sleep doesn't come as quickly as you would like.

For the next couple of minutes you can feel him readjusting beside you, tossing and turning and you already know why. In the interest of getting back to sleep you interrupt him. "Eds, just take them off already", you mumble over your shoulder at him, causing him to freeze.

"You want me down to my underwear?", he whispers back at you and though your back's still to him you can feel the incredulous expression he's got on his face as his eyes bore into the back of your head.

"It's fine. I'm in mine too", you tell him with a seemingly unbothered huff though if he'd had his palm pressed to your chest and just above your heart he'd know you're nowhere near as calm as you make yourself out to be.

A moment of silence elapses before he finally answers.

"Mkay"

You feel him move around, catching the sound of his zipper being pulled down before he's shucking his tight jeans off, relief apparent in his tone when he settles back in bed now that he's shed the tight denim.

"Night then", he whispers to you as you do your best to stifle the warmth swirling in your belly.

"Night", you answer, eventually drifting off to sleep at last.

"Shit shit shit shit shit"

It's the first thing you hear when you begin to wake up, blinking several times to clear your blurry vision before you can take a look at your alarm clock.

6.30AM. The sun's just beginning to rise and you grumble under your breath as you turn over to face Eddie, figuring now's the best time for him to make his way home.

"What the hell?"

You squint at the boy who appears several shades paler than usual, his eyes all large, looking like some kind of cornered animal with a pillow shoved over his lap.

"Um, are you okay?", you sit up in bed, your back against the headboard just like Eddie's.

His eyes dart nervously all over the room, seemingly preferring to focus them anywhere else besides on you and that only leaves you feeling even more confused.

"Okay so- the thing is...I can't exactly leave right now", he mumbles sheepishly to you, the corner of his left eye pinching into a slight twitch.

"Why? are you okay?", you ask, yet to catch on as to what seems to be troubling him.

He looks positively torn with his teeth worrying his bottom lip and a light sweat forming at his temple. "Fuck. Okay. Please don't hate me. It's just that— I have no control over it, okay? it just happens sometimes in the mornings, you know? and- and I...oh god you think I'm some kind of perv don't you?"

You can only blink at Eddie as he brings both hands up to cover his eyes, his neck stretched taught as he leans his head back until it thuds softly against your wall, letting out a defeated sigh.

Looking down at the pillow placed over his lap, you're finally able to guess what the problem is, your belly swirling with a familiar flash of warmth again, same as when you listened to him taking his jeans off last night.

"Oh...well, I don't think you're a perv. It's uh, natural? you can't help it", you tell him as calmly as you can manage, wanting him to feel better by lightening the weight of shame and guilt he's currently shouldering.

Hands still on his face, he parts his fingers enough for him to peek at you from between them. "So you're not mad?", he whispers, watching you closely to gauge your reaction.

You shake your head softly, trying your best not to let your eyes drop back to the pillow in his lap like you might be able to see right through it. You want to see right through it. Badly.

"I'm not mad Eds. I promise".

With another deep sigh, he seems to be more at ease now that he knows that he hasn't upset you, letting his arms flop down at his sides.

"I don't know what to do" he whispers and you can hear how torn he is over the whole situation as you catch the helpless little quaver to his tone.

"What do you usually do?, you ask, your thoughts all frazzled and crowding your head way too quickly than you can manage to comprehend them.

Eddie says nothing, turning to face you with a pointed look, quirking an eyebrow up high at you.

"Right.. dumb question. sorry", you admit.

A few beats of silence commence as both of your minds work, passing over bad idea after bad idea before you turn to back to Eddie again.

"I mean, you could just use my—"

"I can't just jerk off in your bathroom with you sitting here", he stops you quickly and firmly though not unkindly, making you realize that no matter what you try to come up with, he's probably already thought of it first.

"Eddie we have to do something about it", you maintain, sparing a glance at your alarm clock as it reminds you that he's only got a limited amount of time left to leave before he risks getting caught by your family or a neighbor seeing him clamber out your window.

You think about it long and hard, one particular thought echoing louder than the rest in your mind. You try to will it away but it only takes up more space in your head until it's all you can think about, taking in a big breath before you decide to share it with Eddie.

"If you want, I could help you", you tell him, nervously picking at your fingers in your lap.

"...What do you mean?", he asks, looking at you suspiciously.

You shrug. "Y' could grind on me".

There's a pause that seems to drag on much longer than you would have liked, both of you staring into each others eyes, unblinking.

"I can't do that — feels like I'd be taking advantage of you or something", he finally breaks the silence, making you feel somewhat wounded that he'd turned your offer down even though you know he's only trying to be a decent friend. You wish he'd give it a rest.

"Would it help if I took over?", you offer next, steeling yourself in the case of him turning you down once more.

"Sweetheart...please don't tell me you're just fucking with me."

"I'm not I promise", you answer firmly.

"I...are you sure? I mean really 100% sure?", he asks again.

You can't help but roll your eyes at him, slipping your legs out from under the covers to straddle Eddie's thighs all while his jaw falls slack at the sight and feeling of you on top of him, your fingers curling around the pillow still resting on his lap.

"I'm sure. Are you?", you ask him before proceeding though if you were to guess, you could read the answer off his face with ease.

"I...yeah", he squeaks, eyes all big and round like he's in awe of the way you've taken the lead.

"Okay then. Let me get rid of this."

You toss the pillow aside to the spot you'd formerly occupied, gulping down the lump in your throat with some difficulty when you set your eyes on the tent in his striped boxers. The way it strains against his underwear, it's easy to guess he's both thick and lengthy under that thin veil of cotton and the more you look at it the more it feels like the room is starting to tilt and spin.

It's the kind of thing you've thought about in secret a fair amount, you and your best friend doing things that you wouldn't ordinarily do with someone who was just your friend. You pull yourself closer to him, laying your hands on his shoulders as you balance your core over his bulge, carefully lowering yourself until you're pressed up right against his clothed cock. Both of you release a shaky breath at the feeling, him, because you feel so warm and soft and you, because he feels so warm and firm.

"Put your hands on my hips", you tell him next, liking the way his cheeks pink up in response as he places them on you gently, sending a wave of goosebumps all along your body.

You start slow, grinding yourself on the ridge of his cock, unable to help the way your pussy flutters as you drag it up near Eddie's tip and back down close to his balls, working your way up to a simple rhythm.

"How's that? is it good?" you ask, making sure to check in with him.

"Shit yeah that's...that's good. Keep going", Eddie starts to firm up his grasp on you, guiding you, encouraging you to pick up the pace, all the while you try to keep secret the way your stomach tightens up with so much heat, your pussy dripping plenty with slick.

"Eddie..."

"Yeah?"

"What are you thinking about?", you ask him as you notice the the way his brows have begun to knit together, the same way they get when he's concentrating on nailing a solo on stage.

"I don't think I should uh answer that", he answers cautiously, disappointment making your lips push out into a little pout.

"Please. I wanna know", you ask gently, melting his resolve with your pleading eyes

"...M' thinking about your tits", he grits out, looking like he ought to be ashamed about it. You figure you have a way to fix that.

"Do you want to see them? would that um, help?"

Your offer hangs in the air for a few seconds as you finally manage to catch your clit the right way along Eddie's clothed cock, your toes curling while pleasure blooms inside your bones.

You no longer make a strong effort to hide the way that humping his cock is making you feel either, that it's not just him who's getting off here and maybe that's why Eddie manages to convince himself that it's okay to take this next step with you.

"I want to see them — yeah", he manages to croak out, his fingers twitching with so much excitement around your hips. He's thought about it too — the two of you like this. How could he not? when you're the only one who's ever cared. When you look the way you do. When you're soaking through your underwear and his with your nipples already hard as they show through your shirt.

How could he not want you?

With Eddie giving you the green light, you take your hands off of his shoulders and pick up the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off as you toss it behind you, uncaring of where it might land.

"Oh my god."

To you it might have felt like a quick undressing but for Eddie the world slows down to a crawl. He sees it all; the subtle way your breasts bounce and shift with your movements, the way they slope and rest on your chest, rising and falling with every breath and the way your perky nipples react to the cold air in your room, pebbling before his eyes.

"You can touch them if you want", you notice the way he's looking at them, feeling his cock jump under you.

"Christ, you're trying to kill me", he answers all hoarse.

To you, there's no greater compliment, your smile widening into a grin. Carefully, you guide him this time, prying his hands away from your hips and encourage him to cup his hands over your tits instead, moaning when he begins to press into the soft flesh, squeezing and massaging them.

"That feels good", you whisper, hips still working as you drag your drenched clit along his cock. "God, Eddie I've— I've wanted this for so long", you sigh dreamily, the truth spilling out much faster than you can try to swallow it all back down, all because you're so weak for the way those big, wide cinnamon eyes of his are staring back at you.

Your core's all sticky now, panties practically pasted to your skin in that messy way that usually has you eager to peel them off. Though as much as you'd like for the both of you to rid yourselves of all the tacky cotton between you, to be completely bare with each other, you don't want to mess up the rhythm you've fallen into, your clit pulsing and throbbing as you ride Eddie's lap.

"Honey... are you telling me that we could have been doing this from the start?", he asks, slightly anguished. He continues to gently pulling and pinching at your nipples while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, hushed grunts and groans falling from his parted lips.

Your hips are moving faster now, bed squeaking beneath you both, not that you care about your family hearing it — not right now — not when you're so close.

"I— I guess. Yeah", you gasp out when he pinches your right nipple, his left hand falling back down to your hip to guide you.

"You know how many times I've thought of you like this? how many times I've had to picture you on top of me just to get me through the day?, he asks, pulling and pushing you along his length with fervor.

"Why didn't you say anything?", you whine back.

"C'mon. We both kno— know you can do better than—"

Despite almost reaching the peak of your climbing orgasm, you dig your nails into the hand Eddie's got fixed on your hip, forcing your knees into your mattress to bring you both to a halt.

"Don't ever say that. Don't ever say that because it's not true", you place your hands on his cheeks, caressing his face gently. "I only kept my mouth shut incase you didn't feel the same about me...I didn't want to spoil what we already had. I couldn't stand it if you didn't want to be friends anymore..."

"Baby—", it's his turn to cradle your face, thumb making gentle circles on your cheek. "You could never lose me", he tells you, soft but firm and then you feel a pull and you suppose he must feel it too because you're both leaning in, faces closer than they've ever been before, lips grazing each other before you're sharing a kiss with your best friend for the very first time

It's gentle at first, both of your fingers weaving into each others' hair, a soft nip here and there before growing more hungry when Eddie's tongue meets yours. Both of you moan and whimper into each other's mouths, sloppy and messy, your heartbeats turning rapid when you eventually have to break for air, Eddie in need of the same when your lips part with a sticky click and he leans back to rest against the headboard again, panting. Any longer and he'd have cum from the kiss alone.

You catch your breath first, the corner of your mouth picking up into a lopsided smile. "Now are we going to make up for lost time or what?", you challenge him, both of you beaming with bright eyes and brighter smiles.

You pick up where you'd both left off, your hands on Eddie's shoulders and him, one hand on your hip, the other on your right breast, squeezing your soft skin, flicking your nipple because it makes you gasp and he loves hearing the sound of it.

"Please tell me you're close" Eddie grunts, sure to leave marks behind on your hip in the shape of his fingers. You were looking forward to admiring them in the mirror later.

"G-getting there. Wanna go faster— is that okay?", you make sure to ask, his answer coming through when his left hand slips down to find space on your other hip, pulling and pushing you along his length quick enough to make you squirm on his lap as your clit drags on him just right.

"Eddie— feels perfect...I think I'm gonna-"

"Please—" he cuts you off quickly with a ragged huff, his eyes wandering away from the wet, sticky stains that'd developed on both your underwear and his, pausing on the way your breast bounce and jiggle before fixing on your your eyes. "Please cum. I wanna watch you."

Your body begins to move on instinct as it chases your climax, eager to reach it this time than let it slip through your fingers twice. You're closer than before because it feels even better when you begin to lean back, your hands coming to rest on Eddie's thighs behind you. Your chest puffs out while you start to bounce yourself on Eddie's clothed cock, your puffy clit grazing against the stiff underside of his shaft, dragging dragging dragging until your eyes squeeze shut and it happens. The force of it wracks your body, overcome as your whole body quivers, and shakes, your pelvis twitching and jerking — and Eddie watches it all closely and unblinking.

In all his years of settling for quick glances and sly peeks at your body like those times your cleavage showed above your neckline or your bare legs and thighs were displayed whenever the weather called for a pair or shorts or a skirt, Eddie's never seen a more beautiful sight than the one he's taking in now — The way a light sheen glistens on your face, neck and chest, your swollen lips parting, releasing whimper after moan, your hair a little wild and beautiful and your panties drenched and ruined.

Eddie reaches out and brings you close, wrapping his arms around you as your chests meet and you fold into him, burying your face in his neck, whimpering and whining as your clit aches with oversensitivity though not enough to ask him to stop.

He's close by the sound and feel of it, so you grit your teeth and let him buck up against your poor soaked cunt, over and over as you drink in every grunt and groan. You want him to feel good too, unable to resist helping him tip over the edge. You let your tongue slip out from between your lips, licking the salt by his pulse point and letting out a little whisper to unravel him completely.

"Go on, cum for me, Eddie."

A guttural groan rumbles out of his throat just seconds later. it's instantaneous the way pleasure flares white hot at the pit of his stomach, shooting all the way up and raining down on the rest of his body like fireworks.

Though you're yet to feel Eddie inside you, yet to have your walls stretch to accommodate his shape and length so that you don't miss every little jerk, twitch and throb before he spills hot into you, you're still able to feel the effect of Eddie's orgasm. His body shudders and twitches underneath your weight, your pussy feeling warmer and wetter where just under it, Eddie's cum spurts rope after messy rope into his underwear, the cotton becoming saturated with his spend and transferring to your panties.

In the moments following your intense mutual pleasure, the both of you remain entangled in each others arms, sitting in the damp mess you've made of yourselves while you fight to catch your breath. It's Eddie who manages to break the silence first.

"...Do I have to go?, he whispers to you, one warm hand stroking your back gently.

"Do you want to go?, you ask softly against his neck, nuzzling against his skin.

"Not if I can stay and be with you"

You smile hard, chuckling against his skin. "Then stay. I want you to stay too. Y' can hide out in here"

"Yeah? I'm your little secret, huh?", he teases, his lips kissing your temple

"Only for today", you reply.

"Oh?"

You gently unstick yourself from Eddie so you can look him in the eyes, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his bright eyes before you cradle his cheek with one hand.

"Tomorrow I'm telling everyone we know that you're mine"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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forzalando · 8 months

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Orange Theory

Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)

summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!

You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.

Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.

“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.

“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”

“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.

“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”

You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.

“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“I just came to give you this.”

Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”

“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”

“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.

“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.

Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.

“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.

“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.

Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”

You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.

“He peels your oranges for you?”

You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”

“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”

“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”

Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.

“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”

“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”

As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.

“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.

As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”

“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”

“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”

“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”

A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.

“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”

“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”

You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”

Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”

“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”

“What else?”

“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”

Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.

“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.

“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.

“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”

Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”

“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”

“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”

“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”

Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.

Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.

Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.

You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.

When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.

You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.

But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.

They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.

You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”

The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.

“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”

“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”

“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.

“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”

You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.

“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”

“Would you kiss me?”

“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”

This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.

“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”

“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.

“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.

You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.

He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.

He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.

His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.

You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.

After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.

Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #forzalando #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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bleach-your-panties · 9 months

Text

JJK Men: When You're Sleepy, But They're Horny🍒🎀

(a/n: i usually suck ass at headcanons but let's give this a whirl. characters aged 18+. nsfw mdni, sexual content. fem reader)

(characters: yuuji, megumi, nanami, toge, gojo)

dividers: glitter-graphics, @/cafekitsune

♥︎

Yuuji:

It's 9pm and you had just returned from a solo mission, finished your shower, hair routine, and climbed into bed. You hear the soft click of your room door opening and you know that it has to be none other than your boyfriend, Yuuji.

"Babe, are you still awake?" His soft voice whispers right beside your ear before he presses a kiss to the side of your head. You groan out something unintelligible and Yuuji's heart sinks a bit.

He's really hard and he was hoping that you might feel like 'playing' a little, but he also knows that you're probably really tired.

"I can feel you pouting, Yuu. Put it in my hand."

You stretch your palm out from under your covers and Yuuji is quickly shoving his pants down to free his hard dick.

"T-thank you, so much, cutie. Fuck, I love you!" He whimpers/whispers as you stroke him with your nice, warm fingers running all along his shaft.

He's so pent-up that it only takes a few rough tugs before he's spilling his seed into your hand.

"Promise to fuck you good when you wake up, baby. You're so good to me."

You were already snoring before he cleaned your hand off and left your room silently.

♥︎

Megumi:

You're curled up in bed with Megumi spooning while the two of you watch anime. You've finished nearly half the season in the last couple hours that you've been watching and now your eyes are drooping.

Megumi is still watching the TV but his eyes flit down to where your ass is pressed against his crotch. The sleep shorts you're wearing give him a perfect view of your thighs.

Being a semi-grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer, you have keen awareness and heightened senses, so you automatically feel Megumi's stone cold blue eyes boring into your back.

"What is it, Megara?" You yawn out, turning slightly to look at him over your shoulder. He rolls said eyes.

"Told you to stop calling me that."

He answers your question by rutting his hips forward and rubbing his hard-on against your ass.

"I'm tired, Megs. Here." You turn over halfway on to your stomach, fully presenting your ass to him and his eyes widen at the gap made by your thighs.

He sinks his dick into the makeshift hole and fucks it slowly, edging himself, until he feels his balls tighten and he's cumming into the opening.

A warm blush covers his cheeks but he dutifully grabs some wipes and cleans you off before kissing your head and pulling you into his chest.

♥︎

Nanami:

Kento is working another late shift and you just can't stay up waiting for him any longer.

You're quickly falling asleep in the armchair when the front door knob twists and he steps inside.

"Angel, are you asleep in the chair?"

"Mmm...Kento is that you?" You drawl with your head resting against the cushion. He chuckles at your cuteness.

"Yes, it's me, darling. Come on, let's get you to bed.

"Okay."

Once he's laid you on the bed, he can't help but begin to caress your smooth legs up to your thighs hidden beneath your nightgown.

His dick begins to strain against his dress pants but he looks up at your blissful face and dares not to ask you if you want to make love.

"Kento...what's wrong? Come on to bed, already."

"Do you mind if I eat you out, darling?"

Your heart swells ten times its size just knowing how much he cares for you.

"Mhmm, please..."

And he dives right in, sucking and licking you to Nirvana. It feels so good, your legs start shaking and you're cumming over his handsome face in record time.

Your orgasm completely knocks you out cold and he chuckles at your peaceful form before undressing to his boxers and climbing under the covers with you.

♥︎

Toge:

You're cuddled up in Toge's bed with him looking at memes and funny videos on his phone.

With a free day from classes, the two of you had been out all day exploring Tokyo and now you're absolutely exhausted.

You snuggle into his warm chest and inhale the scent of his laundry detergent. Toge kisses the top of your head, his lavender eyes then trailing down over your beautiful face....your lithe neck with the necklace he bought you for your birthday around it, and further down to your tits.

He softly inhales and wraps an arm around your back to press you further against him so he can feel your breasts squished against his hard chest.

You shuffle a bit in his hold and your sleepy eyes look up into his amethyst ones.

"Toge...?"

His dick is hard and swollen against his thigh, but you look so cute like this - he can't help but lean his head down to kiss each of your breasts.

"Sleep."

Your body can't do anything but obey.

That was probably the best sleep you'd gotten in a while.

♥︎

Gojo:

Satoru was away for the day on a field trip with his students and you decided to clean the entire house while he was away. You never had the time to do it when he was around because you'd either be holed up in the bedroom all day or pressed up against some random piece of furniture with him thrusting into you wildly.

When you finished the upstairs, you decided to go lie down and have a quick nap before he got back.

Hours later, you're still knocked out; the cleaning had really drained you more than you realized.

"Honeybun, I'm home and I brought you a souvenir!~"

Your joyful husband slams open the bedroom door with some shopping bags in tow.

The bags drop to the floor and he immediately hushes himself once he sees that you're asleep.

"Aww, look at my precious sleeping baby.." He slips off his blindfold, revealing his beautiful, crystalline blue eyes while he shreds himself of his work clothes and joins you in the bed.

The movements make you shift around a bit and then you feel warm breath over your neck and cheeks.

"Hm, Satoru.." Your hand tangles into his soft white locks while his lips press against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet, hungry kisses on your sweet-scented skin.

"Missed you so much, sweetie...need to have you right now."

There was rarely a time when this man wasn't horny for you, but if you refused and wanted to just sleep, he wouldn't object. He knows that even though you're not a sorcerer you still have a life and things that keep you occupied when he's away.

You shift until you're lying completely on your back and Satoru is spreading your thighs with his knees. He pulls out his cock and begins stroking it until it's hard and leaking pre-cum.

"I love you.." He murmurs into your hair once he's sunken all eight inches inside your tight cunt.

Your eyes close instinctively, but he pats your cheek before gripping your chin in his rough grip.

"Look at me. I want to watch your pretty eyes while I fuck you back to sleep."

----

i actually fell asleep while writing this loool. going back to sleep now, peace.

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bluebellhairpin · 2 months

Text

Cregan Stark X Wife!Reader

Summary: Preparation to leave to Castle Black for the winter months is well under way, and you're reluctant to be left alone in Winterfell. Cregan, having had the same worry, provides what could be a solution. A solution with a name. And fur. (wc. 2.3k>)

Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied. Pregnancy. Assassination attempt. Unnamed character death. Blood + gore. Cregan wants to be a girl dad. Unedited (lol).

Listening to: 'Wolf at Your Door' by Chole x Halle - "When you're laying in your bed at night, when the air's just a little too quiet, better hope that you're saying your prayers."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || AO3 link

Winterfell was a somber place when the cold rolled down from the north.

Although only ten men were sent to the wall every winter, everyone left behind knew someone who was sent away. No matter how short of a life you lived, you also always knew someone who died there. Indeed, life on the wall was as harsh as the force it existence kept at bay.

For you though, the man you lost always returned. The last three winters had you spend upwards of three months without your husband - and in turn rising to take his place as custodian of Winterfell. No matter how busy the role kept you, it never helped you miss Cregan Stark any less.

With winter approaching once more, each moment with him seemed to not be enough. Yes, the Wall was dangerous, and even Cregan was never guaranteed to return, but this year there was something else that willed you to want him to stay. Something else that made him want to stay too.

“Each day my resolve seems to crack,” he told you one night, fire cracked in its hearth as you both lay under blankets of fur. His hand rested protectively over your belly. “Already now I can see our babe grow, and I know I’ll not only be missing you but her too.”

“‘Her’?” you hummed, head turning to nose his cheek. “Such a confident tone, my lord.”

“I am confident.” he replied, turning to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hand idlily rubbed along your stomach.

“And if you needed an heir at the end of this cold winter, what then?”

“If my lady wife deems me worthy, we might try for one again.” he said, sedating what could’ve been the start of your mood change with words almost too sweet to be coming from the frosty king in the north. “But that is something we can decide once all three of us are safe together when summer rises.”

Cregan’s soft words and warm breath on your cheeks made your mind wandered to a time not so far away where you wouldn’t have his heat so close. A time when his comfort was going to be gone.

“I’m going to miss you.” you said, turning into his hold more, and he let you snuggle into his chest. “This time will feel longer than all the others.”

“I doubt that will be the case for you.” he said, lips moving from their place pressed into your hair. “Winterfell will keep you busy, between that and resting for the babe’s sake, you won’t have time on your hands for much else.”

“I may not want to rest.”

“You will. The Lord of Winterfell commands it.”

“The Lord of Winterfell won’t be here, he cannot have a for sure say in what I do or do not do.” You felt him smile into your hair, and you pulled away with a twitch of your own mouth. “What?”

He pulled away a little too, shyly smiling down at where you still laid. He was acting far too coy to be considered normal.

“I might not be leaving you completely alone.”

“... Cregan.” you started, sitting up on our elbow.

“I was going to show you on the morrow, but since you’ve forced my hand -”

“-I? Forcing your hand?”

“- Since you forced my hand,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he slipped out from the bedcovers, “I will be right back.”

“What…” You tried, but your voice tempered out as he swiftly made his way from your bedchambers.

Sighing, you sat back in your pillows, arms folded, and refraining from pouting. It wasn’t long into your settled position of guessing what in the seven kingdoms your husband was doing before he was back.

Cregan had clearly gone outside, snow settled on the top of his hair and along the shoulders of the fur cloak he snatched before leaving. In his arms was something squirming. You frowned, eyeing the movement under the cloak as he strode over.

“What is that?” you asked.

“A protector for the Lady of Winterfell, as per the orders of her lord husband.” Cregan said, and let the squirming mass break free from his hold onto the bed.

It was a… pup? No not possible, it was too big. From how it acted it was a few months surely, but it was just so big. Then you thought some more. Could it really be?

“A direwolf?”

“Not any direwolf. Yours.” Cregan said, rounding the bed and settling back at your side. “A protector to be at your side when I cannot. I’ve been training him and he follows commands well already. By the time I leave he should be grown to the size of any regular dog - then at least twice that when I return.”

While he spoke, the pup sniffed around your bed covers, curiously wandering on unsteady feet. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous, all black fur, with green eyes, and you didn’t doubt he would grow to be a fierce thing. But sometimes that wasn’t always good.

“Cregan, are you sure about this?” you asked. “It’s… he’s a direwolf, not a dog.”

“I’m sure,” he said, lending his arm out. The pup stepped closer, licking Cregan’s fingers and settling on its belly with its nose on Cregan’s knee. “They’re our house symbol. The direwolf are as Stark as I am, they know who we are, and they can be as loyal as they are fierce. That’s why I wanted to introduce you before I left. He’s going to be yours, loyal to you.”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and like second nature you made yourself comfortable by his side. The pup shifted too, now his nose was itching closer to you, wanting to know who this new person was.

“I supposed you ought to tell me what I'm going to be calling him then.”

“You can call him anything you like,” Cregan said, “But I’ve been calling him Striker.”

Five months passed, and Cregan was right. You were never without anything to do.

The babe growing inside you made mornings rough, and you often weren’t seen before noon, especially in the earlier months. The rest of your day was spent catching up on what you’d missed while resting, and then catching up on what you missed while catching up. Then the evenings were spent with Striker.

He had grown on you, just as he had grown physically. Cregan was still able to lift the wolf when he left, but now you doubted it. He was already well on his way to rivalling a regular wolf in size. Despite how intimidating that might’ve been, you couldn’t be more fond of Striker even if you tried.

Your belly swelled, and with it so did the direwolf’s protectiveness. Your handmaids were tolerated, your guards struggled to be in the same room, and when the maesters dared tough you Striker had to be sent out of the room. Walks around Winterfell were soon out of the question, at least if you were to bring the direwolf along, since he took to growling at everyone who stood too close.

Cregan really picked well, Striker surely was serving his purpose, and soon he earned his namesake.

Word came from Castle Black that Cregan was going to return, that the Winter had been fended off once more. That brought joy foremost to you, but really all in Winterfell knew what that meant, even if Westeros didn’t. It was cause for celebration when they returned.

It also gave a false sense of security. Winter was gone, and so was the evil - but evil didn’t just come from the north. It could come from anywhere.

You’d settled into bed for the night, Striker laid beside you, head facing towards the door, and your hand rested on his flank as you looked over one last paper. He growled, and you petted his fur, silently reassuring him that it was just a guard passing outside - but then his head lifted, and turned toward your window. His sudden, still alertness put you on edge.

He’d been hostile before, but this was aggressive.

Candle flames flickered, Striker’s fur stood on end beneath your palm, the latch on your window clicked open, creaked open, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. A cloaked figure slipped into your room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry for help - nor to remember anything Cregan had taught you. But you didn’t have to.

The figure, a man, unsheathed a knife, and with the glint of steel in the candlelight Striker struck. He surged off the bed with a vicious bark and bit into the man’s arm, snarling all the while and all but went to tearing the man to shreds.

The commotion had people coming in through the door, and the sight had you still rendered motionless and speechless.

The man’s cloak was torn away, and by now he was pinned to the floor, blood pooling on the stone as he fruitlessly tried to get Striker off him. You barely registered your guard, Gunther, asking you what was happening.

“He came in the window. He had a knife.” was all you could say. You could guess he was saying things to calm you down as he pried your fingers off your bedsheets that covered your swollen belly - he was probably trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t see the mess. It was too late for that. The man was a whimpering, bloodied mess on the floor by now, and no one had yet been brave enough to pry Striker’s jaw off his shoulder.

Gunther had an arm around you with your hand in his, guiding you away. Others attempted to move closer, either to help the man or take him away - but Striker was still growling.

“Striker, here.” you called, just finding your voice enough for it to carry over the commotion. The direwolf looked up, and seeing you being led away, he relented, fitting into your side with ease.

The three of you walked away. Now you were away from the scene you could think again and guess you were going down the hall to another room, one you decided you’d stay in until Cregan returned.

You looked down at Striker, threading your fingers though the fur at his neck.

“Good boy.” you said, stroking between his ears.

“He sure is, my lady.” Gunther said, “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t act so fast.”

You smiled a little at that, at how right Cregan was in leaving the direwolf for you. He was meant to be company, a protector second - but tonight he proved to be as good, as loyal as any of your guards. He proved to be the real sigil of House Stark - just as Cregan told you he was.

You reached the door of your new room, and as your hand lifted off Striker’s back you noticed it chill with the cold night air. Turning your palm over, you saw red - and Striker’s nose made home in your fingers, licking away every drop as if it wasn’t ever there to begin with.

A week later, Cregan returned.

You had been in a foul mood for the past three days, since the maester had put you on strict bed rest because of the babe. Therefore you had been deemed unfit to greet your husband at the gate as he finally came home. In your defense, it definitely seemed like a good reason to be sour.

So you waited, sat on a chaise, with Striker’s head in your lap pressed to your stomach.

You could hear a commotion outsider, which only made your face scrunch in annoyance - not just at missing out but also at the pity looked you knew your handmaiden would be giving you. She offered to go fetch Cregan, and you nodded her leave with a wave of your hand.

“He will be here soon.” you said, cradling Striker’s muzzle in your palms.

“Indeed he will.” Cregan said.

“Oh, Lord Stark!” your handmaid said, startled. Your head turned, and you saw him standing in the doorway.

“Cregan!” you said, grin covering your face - and even after such a long time away, Striker seemed to recognize him, for he didn’t growl, and his tail started thumping against the rug.

“My love,” he said, shedding his great sword carelessly, and sunk to the floor beside where you sat. You heard your handmaid mumble a goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Are you alright?”

“I couldn’t be better now.” you replied, feeling tears welling in your eyes as you took in your husband's face for the first time in months. He looked tired, older, but as you took his face in your hands his cheeks felt exactly the same as they were when he left. “I missed you so much.”

“I heard about what happened the other night. I -” he said, mouth hanging open in what could’ve been shock, in his eyes there could’ve been anger. Vengeance would do nothing now, the man was dead, he bled out before anyone could decide to give him mercy - undeserved or otherwise. But as Cregan leant forward to hold you into his arms, his warmth felt like nothing else except fear. “I can’t believe I could’ve lost you.”

“You didn’t.” you said, taking an arm away from being wrapped around his shoulders to pull his face away from your chest. “You provided the means for me to stay safe long before you left. Striker was better than any guard. He was fearless when I was frozen. I owe him my life, all because of you.”

Cregan’s face turned soft, and he smiled at you. He leant forward and kissed you. For the first time in too long, his lips move against yours. You felt his jaw move beneath your palm as his fingers grazed your neck and held onto your hip. When he pulled away, he kept your head cradled close to his.

“I love you.” he said.

“I love you too.” you replied, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, then your cheek.

“Now tell me all about how my little girl is growing.”

#cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

Note

After last episode I’m thinking what if Aegon tells his wife what happened when he wakes up and she goes ballistic on Aemond because the man she loves was hurt in battle, by his own brother nevertheless. (Maybe she sees the dagger that normally sits in its sheath on Aegons hip)

Request: Aegon returning to King’s Landing after Rook’s Rest. His wife worries about him and stay by his side

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

—

You became sick with worries when you saw Aemond and Vhagar return to King’s Landing, alone.

He walked into the Red Keep and called for a small council meeting to report about Rook’s Rest. You sat in the seat beside the King’s empty one, listening as Aemond recounted that the plan he and Ser Criston had come up with got crashed by the Blacks, who sent Rhaenys to Lord Staunton's aid.

‘’What of His Grace?’’ you asked, having seen Aegon depart from the dragonpit hours ago.

Aemond lowered his gaze, making the knot in your stomach tighten. No war was bloodier than one with dragons. Meleys was a large dragon, and she had battle experience. Mayhaps something happened to Sunfyre? You knew Aegon would refuse to leave his side if anything happened to him.

‘’There was an incident involving the King,’’ he began.

You held your breath as Aemond continued.

‘’While I was waiting for Cole's signal, His Grace engaged in a one-on-one with Meleys, but the latter brutally attacked Sunfyre, causing him — and Aegon — to freefall in a nearby forest with great force before I could take the sky and come to their aid.’’

Everyone fell completely silent.

You felt your vision blur as the room began to spin. Your face paled, and a cup of water was brought to you. You took a small sip, but you were still feeling unwell.

You should not have let him join the battle. He had no military training, it was reckless.

‘’Where is Aegon now?’’ the dowager Queen asked her younger son, her voice filled with maternal concern.

‘’At Rook's Rest,’’ Aemond replied. ‘’Ser Criston and Ser Gwayne are marching back to King’s Landing with what little remains of the Green army. They are bringing his critically injured body.’’

⁂

Three days later, Ser Criston’s army arrived at King’s Landing. You had not slept since being informed about Aegon’s fall, your mind filled with worried thoughts and dark fears. Your handmaiden had suggested you take a draught for sleep, but you declined. You couldn’t risk being in a deep sleep when Aegon would come in through the gates.

While they were parading Meleys's slain head through the city, six knights walked through the Keep, holding their King in a closed litter that hid him completely. He was brought to his chambers where several maester began working on him.

‘’Is he alive?’’ you asked, trying to get information on your husband's state.

The maesters couldn't answer, feeling a pulse so faint they didn't want to give you false hopes. You were escorted out as they worked on removing the armor which had melted onto Aegon's left arm. The image was not one a Queen should see, they said.

You found yourself at Alicent's doors, needing someone to share your fears and worries with. She invited you to sit on her couch and had camomile tea brought to you to calm your nerves. You had not been this anxious since the birth of your first child.

Noticing your shaking hands, the dowager Queen took the one who was not holding the teacup in hers. ‘’He’s strong, like his father,’’ she said softly. ‘’He’ll recover.’’

⁂

Late into the night, you were allowed back in the King’s chambers. Aegon had not yet woken, laying in the bed with his eyes closed. Half of his body was wrapped in bandages, covering the burns.

All he wanted was to prove the realm that he wasn't useless. And now, he laid in bed, badly burned with a broken hip, and numerous broken ribs.

You sat all night by Aegon's bedside, refusing to leave him.

‘’You should get some rest, Your Grace,’’ the Grand Maester suggested when he came in to check on Aegon in the morning, noticing you were still in yesterday’s dress.

He was probably right. Your eyes felt dry from lack of sleep and the shadows under them were dark.

‘’I will rest when he wakes,’’ you replied.

⁂

A tear fell down your face when Aegon woke days later, mumbling your name with his dry throat. He was in severe pain from his injuries, so the Grand Maester administered him a strong concoction of milk of the poppy to sooth his pain. It made his mind cloudy, and very sleepy.

That night, you allowed yourself to sleep in a bed.

⁂

For the duration of his recovery, you were moved to Aegon's old chambers.

They had not been occupied since the coronation. When you walked in, you noticed everything was the way it always was, the way Aegon liked.

It felt strange to be there without him.

As you sat on the bed in your nightgown, you were reminded of life before he was crowned. Times were simpler back then. The realm was at peace and Aegon didn't have to put himself in danger to prove he was worthy of the crown.

You missed that time.

⁂

While Aegon was bedstruck, you took seat on the Iron Throne to rule in his absence. He trusted you with his life, and would want no one else than you to wear his crown. His mother and grandsire ruled in his father's absence through his long illness and manipulated everything and everyone around them. Aegon didn't want that happening to him.

Although you didn’t know how to rule a war, you listened to the men sitting at the small council table, seeking their opinions and counsel. Now you understood why Aegon said they all bore him. Sitting there and listening to Lord Larys’s report of whispers, Lord Tyland’s financial complaints, and other reports that came by ravens made you want to indulge in wine.

‘’What is the next move, Your Grace? Our men have recovered from the battle at Rook’s Rest and are ready for the next move. More men have been trained and knighted, and are waiting for the next commands.’’

You glanced at the map to your left, studying the pins of the houses who had bent the knee to Aegon and the ones who had not, trying to come up with a strategy, but before you could answer, Aemond spoke.

‘’The Riverlands. Me and Cole will be heading north-west and amassing an army to march against Daemon Targaryen and Harrenhal.’’

You directed your eyes back to the table, looking straight forward at Aemond. ‘’Since when are you in charge of leading our armies, Prince Aemond? The last time you and Ser Criston plotted without my husband’s authority, it ended in a carnage of our army and put our King in a critical condition. I reject your strategy and forbid you from plotting without my authority by risk of being removed from this council.’’

After the small council meeting was over, you returned to Aegon’s side and were surprised to find him awake. He had been given him a gentle sponge bath by the maids while you were absent, his silver hair damp on his pillow. You also noticed that the maester had changed his bandages.

‘’Where is Sunfyre?’’ Aegon asked when you sat, speaking coherently for the first time in weeks.

‘’Near Rook’s Rest,’’ you replied. ‘’He was so badly maimed that he's not even able to be moved back to King's Landing. Ser Criston stationed men near to guard him while he is recovering. You need not to worry, my love.’’

You took his hand that was not strapped and resting against his chest in yours, trying to ease his worries. He hated being apart from Sunfyre, especially knowing his dragon was injured and in pain. Aegon vividly remembered his cries of pain when they were attacked by Meleys’ claws and teeth. He wished he could go to him.

‘’My memory is blurry, but he saved me. When we crashed down backward, Sunfyre was going to kill me with his weight, but he angled his body to avoid crushing me.’’

Aegon tried to shift into a more sitting position, but groaned as pain shot through his whole body. His burns were healing nicely under the bandages, but his broken hip and ribs were going to take a lot longer.

You reached on the night table and poured him a small cup of milk of the poppy. ‘’Here.’’

It would make him sleepy, but at least it’ll relieve his pain.

Until the effects kicked in, you informed him of what happened while he was unconscious.

‘’The crown must look great on you,’’ Aegon said, the corner of his mouth curling in a small smile.

Any form of facial expression caused his tender, burned skin to sting, so he refrained from them most of the time.

You huffed, remembering the words of the men at the council when you sat in the King’s seat. ‘’Your council is not happy with me ruling in your stead. They claim that a war should not be led by a woman and that it makes the war look ridiculous as it began with not wanting a woman on the throne.

‘’Whoever dares question your seat and ability to rule should be removed from my council.’’ Aegon's face was dead serious. No ill tongues will be tolerated speaking about his wife. Not in his court, and certainly not from his council.

Unfortunately, you could not do that. What would the small council become without a Master of Coins or a Master of Law?

You continued with other news. ‘’The beast who is responsible for your fall got taken down by Aemond. His rider, Rhaenys Targaryen, perished with her. Now, the Blacks are down from another dragon. It’s a victory for us, but our army suffered severe losses due to dragonfire.’’

At the mention of dragonfire, flashes of the battle blurred Aegon’s mind. ‘’What has my brother told the council?’’

You recounted what Aemond said, and Aegon’s frown deepened as his memories became clearer.

His grip on your hand tightened. ‘’It is not what happened at Rook’s Rest. You must listen to me. It is not Rhaenys who aimed at me with dragonfire, it was Aemond.’’

⁂

Aegon’s words echoed in your head as you bathed that night. Had he confessed about his brother’s betrayal to someone else, they would say he was delirious and confused from the milk of the poppy, but you knew he was not. He was perfectly conscious, his memories from Rook’s Rest slowly coming back to him.

From what you knew, Aemond never showed signs of bad intentions toward his brother. As Aegon often said, Aemond was his blood and fiercely loyal. He trusted him. So why would Aemond turn on him during a battle and unleash dragonfire at Aegon? There must be a motive for him to intentionally harm his kin, his brother.

It was difficult to discern any emotions from Aemond. He was always composed and cold. Mayhaps his facade hid jealousy for his older brother? It was frequent among second sons. Although, Aegon never was the favorite son. It was always Aemond.

Until teh Conqueror’s crown was placed on his head. Mayhaps he had a secret thirst for the throne? It would explain his military ambitions and his desire for a place at the council table. The best way to kill a King is to get close enough to stab him when he least expects it.

You sighed and leaned back in the tub, closing your eyes as your body was covered by the warm water. The memory of Aegon's pained expression as he recounted his brother's betrayal — a treason to the crown — haunted you.

‘’He is my blood,’’ Aegon had whispered, his voice trembling. ‘’Why would he do this?’’

⁂

In the early morning, you requested a private audience with Aemond.

‘’I wish to know what really happened at Rook’s Rest,’’ you said firmly. ‘’As your Queen.’’

Aemond stood in front of you, clad in his usual leathers and an emotionless face. ‘’I gave my full report to the small council when I returned from King’s Landing. Nothing else is to be said.’’

You pressed on, your voice unwavering. ‘’It was told to the smallfolk Aegon had slain Meleys, which is false as you have told us it was Vhagar who killed her. This discrepancy makes me question if there are more lies woven into your truth. You reported that Meleys had brutally attacked Sunfyre with her claws and teeth but you never mentioned dragonfire. Yet burns cover half of His Grace’s body.’’

If Aemond felt any hint of nervousness at your probing, he did not show it.

‘’Are you questioning my truth, Your Grace?’’ he asked, his tone cold.

You knew that saying ‘yes’ would turn your question into an accusation of treason. By suggesting that he had harmed the King, Aemond could easily twist the accusation back on you. And what proof did you have? Your husband, who lay crippled in bed, dulled by milk of the poppy for most of the day? His moments of lucidity would not be believed by anyone.

Perhaps you could ask Ser Criston or Ser Gwayne what they had witnessed. Or bring the matter to the dowager Queen; she might decipher her son's body language better than you could.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something familiar caught your eye.

‘’This is Aegon’s dagger,’’ you pointed, recognizing the handle sitting on Aemond’s hip.

‘’Indeed. He lost it during the battle at Rook’s Rest. I retrieved it from the forest,’’ Aemond replied.

‘’And why is it sitting on your hip, Prince Aemond? The Conqueror’s dagger has been given to him during the coronation, along with his crown. It should be in His Grace’s chambers, where it belongs.’’

Aemond's eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. ‘’I kept it safe, as any loyal brother would. Would you rather it had been lost forever?’’

You met his gaze, unflinching. ‘’Give it back to me.’’

Aemond stiffened at your words, his jaw clenching. He placed a hand on the hilt of the dagger, a defensive gesture that he couldn’t help but do. ‘’And if I refuse?’’

Your heart beat faster at Aemond's defiance, but you refused to back down. Taking a step forward, you locked eyes with him, your gaze steely ‘’Do not defy your queen. This is not a request, it's a command. The dagger belongs to Aegon. Give it to me, now!’’

Aemond hesitated for a moment, his fingers still gripping tightly to the dagger’s hilt. But your stern demeanor and unwavering command made it clear that there was no alternative.

With reluctance, he pulled the dagger from his hip and held it out to you, handle first.

You took the dagger from Aemond, your fingers grazing against his as you did so. ‘’I suggest you kiss goodbye to that dream of yours, my Prince. I know what you are. And when Aegon is strong enough to speak his truth, you will pay for what you did.’’

—

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✰𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒✰

༢ུ·⠀READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ☾ MASTERLIST

⋆𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒⋆; ༊࿔ nerdyloser!ellie x cheerleader!reader.

ıllı⋆𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒⋆; ellie had a reputation as the school's perpetual loser. However, you saw her differently, choosing not to believe the gossip and stereotypes surrounding her.

⌖ ⋆𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒⋆; WC/ 7.1k , smutttt!!! , the glasses stay ONNNN!! , friends to lovers trope? , swearing , ellie touches herself to thought of reader , making out / kissing , fingering (e & r receiving) , strap on usage (r receiving) , strap on sucking (e receiving) , eating out (e & receiving) , nipple sucking (e & r receiving) , Ellie calls the strap her cock like once? (I think.) , lmk if there’s more ! 🧡

💌 ⋆𝐀/𝐍⋆; Heyeyyey guysss ive actually done nothing but rot in my bed this summer❤️ also promise I’ll reply to all of ur sent requests once I feel like it bc I’m sick😓anyways hope u enjoy this bery shitty fic mwahhh <3

Ellie was often regarded as the school's perpetual loser, her status whispered about in hushed hallway conversations and painted with gossip on the bathroom walls.

You, however, saw her through a different lens, one that didn't confine her to the stereotypes and ridicule that surrounded her.

To you, she wasn't just a loser. She was cute, intriguing, and someone who held a silent charm that was lost on the rest of the school.

From the first time you laid eyes on her, you couldn't help but notice the way she moved through the crowded halls with a reserved confidence.

Her short, tousled hair framed a face that held a hint of mystery, her sharp jawline and piercing eyes exuding a quiet strength.

Between classes, you would often find her sitting alone in a secluded corner, engrossed in a book or sketching in a worn notebook.

Her solitary moments, instead of appearing lonely, hinted at a depth and independence that captivated you.

There was something about the way she carried herself, a quiet resilience that made her stand out amidst the cacophony of teen insecurities and conformity.

As you walked through the bustling corridors, your eyes landed on Ellie standing alone by her locker, engrossed in the world of her own mind.

Taking a deep breath, you approached her, the familiar uniform of a cheerleader a stark contrast to her rebellious aura.

The hallway filled with its usual chatter, but in that moment, it faded into the background as you gathered your courage.

"Hey Ellie," you called out, hoping to grab her attention, your heart beating a little faster than usual.

Ellie looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing her features as she registered your presence. She closed her locker and turned to face you, her gaze studying you with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

The hallway seemed to shrink around the two of you, the world outside becoming a blur as your conversation began to unfold.

"What do you want?" her words carried a hint of defensiveness, a shield she had likely erected after years of ridicule. Yet, her eyes held a flicker of interest, intrigued by the unusual turn of events – a popular cheerleader like you speaking to her, the school's "loser".

"I just wanted to say hi," you responded, a nervous smile playing on your lips. Your cheerleader uniform with a oversized buttoned up varsity jacket, a symbol of the very social group that often looked down upon Ellie, seemed to create a wall of judgment in the air between you both.

You pushed past it, your curiosity about her overshadowing any preconceived notions about her social status.

"Hi." Ellie said softly, clearly not used to people approaching her, especially not popular cheerleaders like you.

She shifted her weight slightly, resting her hand on the locker behind her. There was a brief moment of silence as she studied you, trying to figure out what you wanted.

Her piercing eyes, usually hidden behind a mask of apathy, were intense and searching. You could tell she was hesitant, bracing herself for whatever snide comment or put-down was about to come her way.

But you surprised her, and yourself, by simply smiling and saying you wanted to say hi. Ellie's reserved demeanor softened slightly, a tiny glimmer of surprise and pleasure flashing in her eyes.

She looked...flattered. "That's, um, that's really nice of you," she mumbled, her sharp jawline clenched slightly.

It was clear she wasn't used to such kindness from her peers. You stood there for a moment, the noise of the hallway fading into the background.

Ellie was even more captivating up close - those mysterious eyes, that delicate yet strong face. You found yourself drawn to her quiet strength and hidden depths.

Finally breaking the silence, you asked her how she was doing, really doing. Ellie sighed, looking down at her feet. "I don't know. Same old, same old, I guess. Trying to fly under the radar." Her shrug was small, her shoulders barely rising. "People can be pretty cruel sometimes."

Ellie shrugged again, her eyes darting away uncomfortably. "I mean, I'm used to it by now. People have been talking shit about me since middle school. It never really bothers me anymore." Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed the lie.

Being the subject of constant ridicule and mockery can't be easy, even if you build up a protective shell. You sensed a deep sadness behind Ellie's apathetic facade.

Reaching out tentatively, you placed your hand on her arm. The gesture startled her, her eyes snapping back to yours in surprise. It was a small, friendly touch, but it felt like a big statement - a rejection of the societal norms that put Ellie down and a personal challenge to get to know the real her. "I'm sorry people are so rude, Ellie. You don't deserve that." Your tone was gentle, sympathetic.

"I know I'm not exactly known for being kind to those on the outskirts. But I want you to know I think you're interesting. And cool. And I'd like to get to know you better, if you're up for it."

Ellie looked at you with a mix of surprise and... was that a glimmer of hope? She seemed to be searching your face, trying to gauge your sincerity.

After a moment, she shrugged again, but there was a hint of vulnerability behind it. "I don't know... I'm not really sure how to... hang out, I guess." Her cheeks flushed slightly, her gaze drifting down to her scuffed shoes.

The admission felt awkward for her, like she was revealing a weakness. But it was also kind of adorable, seeing this tough exterior cracking just a bit. You had the sudden urge to reach out and hug her, to show her that not everyone judged her— but you didn't. "We can start simple," you suggested, your voice warm and encouraging. "We could study together sometime. Or grab coffee after school."

Anything to help Ellie see that there are good people out there, if she just opens herself up to the possibility.

Ellie considered your offer, her brow furrowed in concentration. You could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she weighed the risks and rewards. Finally, she nodded, just a tiny jerk of her head but enough to see as a yes. "Okay... yeah. That could be cool, I guess." She smiled slightly, a real, genuine smile that transformed her entire face.

You exchanged numbers, making plans to meet up the following week. As you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation.

Fast forward a few days, and Ellie and you have become inseparable. You sit together at lunch, partner for projects, and study together almost every night.

She's opened up to you in ways she never has with anyone else, sharing her dreams of becoming a writer and her passion for art. In turn, you've shared your own hopes and fears with her.

She listens intently, her piercing eyes studying your face, her sharp jawline clenched in empathy.

You've never felt so understood. The world seems to have slowed down since you've gotten closer, like you're moving to a different beat than everyone else.

People still talk about Ellie behind her back, but you tune it out. You know the truth - that beneath that tough exterior is a kind, clever, beautiful soul.

One that you're falling for more and more each day. But you're scared to ruin your friendship by confessing your feelings.

So you keep it inside, buried beneath your skin like a constant ache. Hoping against hope that someday, somehow, Ellie will realize that you're the one who sees her, who truly gets her. And that maybe, just maybe, she might feel the same way.

You've been trying to get Ellie to come to one of your cheerleading practices for weeks, but she's been stubbornly refusing. She's always got some excuse - she's busy, she doesn't feel like it, she'd rather stay home and draw.

But you're determined. Finally, you corner her after school one day. "Ellie, come on! It'll be fun, I promise. And I want you to meet the girls, they're really great once you get to know them." You plead, your voice high-pitched with desperation.

Ellie sighs, her sharp jawline clenched in exasperation. But after a moment, she relents. "Fine, alright. But just for a little while, okay?" She agrees, clearly unenthused.

You grin triumphantly and immediately start walking towards the gym. Ellie hurries to catch up, her eyes fixed on the ground. When you arrive at the practice, you head straight to the bleachers to change.

Ellie follows at a distance, until she sees you pull off your uniform top and shake out your hair, dressed now in just a sports bra and mini skirt. Her eyes go wide, her cheeks flushing bright red as she takes in the sight of you in your cheer gear. "Fuck..." she mutters under her breath, her gaze darting away, suddenly very interested in her sneakers. The other girls greet you warmly, and you introduce Ellie to the team.

You and the girls start practicing a routine, dancing and cheering in unison. Ellie watches from the bleachers, her eyes glued to you, unable to look away.

Your short skirt flutters as you move, giving glimpses of your thighs and ass. The sweat glistens on your skin, making your sports bra cling to your chest.

Every flex of your muscles, every spin and leap, sends Ellie's heart racing. She's never seen you like this before - all energy and enthusiasm, your beauty and femininity on full display. It's intoxicating.

She has to tear her eyes away, squeezing them shut as she tries to regain control of herself. Because seeing you like this, it's making her feel things.

Things she shouldn't, not to her friend. Not to anyone, really. Her cheeks are burning, and she can't seem to catch her breath.

The fact that her pussy is throbbing with need and her boxers are drenched doesn't help matters. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Ellie prays the practice will be over soon, before she does something stupid.

The practice goes by in a blur for Ellie, her mind foggy with desire. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor, scared to look up and risk seeing more of your tempting body.

But her imagination fills in the blanks, painting vivid pictures of your lithe form dancing just for her. By the time you wrap up, Ellie is a hot mess - flushed, breathless, and seriously bothered.

She mumbles something about needing to go and dashes out of the gym, not caring if she just bails on you. She needs to get home, alone, and deal with the ache between her legs. It's going to be a long night.

Ellie rushes home, her heart pounding and her mind reeling. She storms up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. Falling face-first on her bed, she lets out a frustrated groan, her boxers soaked through.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out the image of you dancing in that tiny skirt, but it's no use. Behind her closed lids, you're still there, bouncing around in your cheer gear, just for her.

A low moan escapes her lips as she palms her pussy, stroking her cunt slowly. Her mind fills with filthy thoughts of you - of pinning you down and tasting your pussy, of wrapping her long fingers around your lithe throat and making you cum on command.

She imagines herself fucking you senseless, pounding your tight cunt into submission. The fantasies are wild, rough, and exactly what she needs to relieve the ache between her legs.

Ellie loses herself in the pleasure, her pussy wet and throbbing as she jerks herself off to thoughts of you. Her pussy clenches and drips, her thighs trembling as the orgasm builds.

"Fuck," she hisses through gritted teeth, her hips bucking wildly into her touch. The moment she comes, she collapses back on the bed, gasping for air.

Her mind is hazy, her chest heaving. But even as the bliss fades, a nagging sense of shame creeps in. What is wrong with her? You're her best friend! She can't possibly actually want to fuck you, can she?

The thought sends a pang of guilt through her, but it's too late - the damage is done. She can't unsee you dancing in that skirt, can't unfeel the way her body responds to your presence. And as she lays there, her heart racing and her skin slick with sweat, Ellie knows one thing for sure - she's falling for you, hard. And it's only a matter of time before you find out.

Over the next two days, Ellie tries to push her feelings down, to pretend like nothing changed. But it did. Every time you're near, she feels that old ache returning, her body reacting like it did when she saw you in that skirt.

She's miserable, torn between her growing feelings for you and the guilt of keeping them a secret. One evening, you stop by her house after school. You knock on her door, and she opens it, looking frazzled and stressed. "Can you come back later?" She asks, her voice strained.

Something is definitely going on with her. You nod, confused, and leave. But as you walk away, you see Ellie slump against the doorframe, looking like she's about to collapse. You turn back, concerned, and ask if she's okay. For a moment, she just stares at you. "yeah yeah, all good." She replies, and you just walk away.

You notice a change in Ellie's behavior - she's suddenly really busy all the time. When you invite her to hang out, she always has an excuse. "Sorry, I have a project due soon and I really need to focus," she says, avoiding eye contact. Or "I have family stuff I need to take care of, maybe we can hang out another time?" She's gone from eager best friend to distant acquaintance almost overnight.

It's like she's avoiding you on purpose. You're confused, but you try to give her space, hoping she'll come around. But you can't shake the feeling that you did something wrong.

You've had enough. A few days without Ellie in your life is more than enough time to realize just how much you need her. You need your best friend back.

So you show up at her doorstep, determined to get some answers. When she opens the door, you're ready. "What's going on, Ellie?" You demand, your voice shaking slightly. She looks taken aback, like she wasn't expecting this confrontation. "Wh-what are you talking about?" She stammers, her sharp jawline clenched anxiously.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Don't lie, Ellie. I know you've been avoiding me for weeks. Something's wrong, and I want to know what it is." There's a long, tense moment of silence.

Then, finally, Ellie sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine," she says, stepping aside to let you in. "Come in."

You sit down with Ellie, genuinely concerned. "You can tell me anything, you know that right?" You say softly. Ellie looks down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. "It's just... school has been really hard lately. And homework. I just haven't had the time or

energy to focus on anything else."

She shrugs, her eyes still fixed on her lap. You process her words, trying to understand. But you can't help but notice the way she's avoiding eye contact, the way her voice lacks its usual conviction.

You get the sense that there's more to the story, that Ellie is hiding something from you. But you're not sure what. Frustrated but willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Over the next few weeks, you keep a close eye on Ellie, making sure she doesn't slip back into her old avoidance habits. Slowly but surely, she starts to come back around, agreeing to hang out occasionally.

It's not the same as before - there's a new tension between you two, a nervous energy. You can't quite put your finger on it, but something has definitely changed.

One night, you're studying together at your place. Ellie is across from you, focused intently on her book. You can't help but steal glances at her, drinking in the sight of her intelligent face, her delicate features. Suddenly, she looks up and catches you staring. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. Awkward.

Ellie shifts uncomfortably, Her eyes dart around the room, anywhere but at you. "Wh-what are you looking at?" She asks, her voice tight. You're taken aback - why is she getting defensive? You weren't looking at her like she was stupid or anything. "Nothing! I wasn't looking at anything." You stammer, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

The silence that follows is thick and heavy. Finally, Ellie speaks up again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can we just... focus on our homework?"

You nod, trying to brush off the weirdness. But as you both continue studying, the atmosphere between you two is strained. Every time you glance over at Ellie, she's looking away, her face flushed.

You start to wonder if she's really okay. As the night winds down, you realize you haven't heard a peep out of her in a while.

You look over to find her sound asleep at your desk, her head resting on her folded arms. You can't help but smile - the girl may be tough as nails, but she's still got a soft side. Gently, you reach out and brush a stray lock of hair from her face.

You freeze, hand hovering inches from Ellie's cheek. In that moment, everything clicks into place. Your feelings for her, the way your body reacts whenever she's near, the guilt you've been carrying around - it all makes sense.

You're in love with your best friend, and she's been trying to tell you without saying the words. The realization is overwhelming, and you're not sure what to do with it. You look down at Ellie, taking in her peaceful slumbering face.

For a long moment, you just stare. Then, with a deep breath, you lean in and press your lips to her forehead in a gentle, chaste kiss.

The next day at school, you're on edge. What if Ellie was awake when you kissed her on her forehead. You can't help but worry as you wait for her to make a move.

But to your surprise, Ellie seems completely unfazed. She walks up to you in the hallway, grinning as usual. "Hey, what's up?" She asks, like nothing out of the ordinary happened. You blink, unsure how to respond.

Do you confront her about your feelings, or do you play it cool? Before you can decide, Ellie leans in and brushes her lips against your cheek in a quick, friendly kiss. "See you later," she murmurs, before turning and walking away. Your heart is racing, your mind reeling. Did she just... kiss you like that? And if so, what does it mean?

Over the next few weeks, you and Ellie settle into a new normal. Your friendship is still there, but it's different now - there's a romantic undercurrent running beneath the surface. Every now and then, one of you will lean in to kiss the other's cheek or forehead. It's sweet, but also confusing.

Are you guys just staying friends, or is something more brewing? One evening, you're hanging out again, this time watching a movie at the cinema. About halfway through, you get bored so you turn and ask her "I'm bored...can we do something?"

Ellie glances over at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I know just the thing," she whispers with a sly smile.

Before you can respond, she reaches over and takes your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours. You feel a jolt of electricity at her touch, your heart beginning to race.

The cinema falls away as you gaze into her eyes, the rest of the world fading to black. "Come on," she says, tugging gently on your hand. You let her lead you out of the theater and down the dark, empty hallway. No one's around to notice the way your pulse quickens or how hard it is to breathe.

Ellie raises an eyebrow as you drag her into the bathroom, but she doesn't resist. "What's up?" She asks, looking around the small room in confusion.

You fidget with your shirt, suddenly self-conscious. "Can't go out there looking like a mess," you mutter. Without thinking, you turn to Ellie and grab a handful of her hair, pulling her in close.

Your lips meet in a searing kiss, all the pent-up tension between you exploding in that moment. Ellie melts into your embrace, her hands coming up to grip your shoulders.

The kiss breaks after what feels like an eternity, leaving you both breathless. For a moment, you just stare at each other, hearts racing. Then, with a shy smile, Ellie reaches up and fixes your crooked necklace. "You look fine," she whispers.

Ellie's glasses slide down her nose as she leans in for the kiss, the frames tilting rakishly. After you break the kiss, she pushes them back up, blinking rapidly. "We should probably get back," she says softly, glancing towards the bathroom door.

You nod, not wanting to face the crowded cinema again just yet. With Ellie's hand in yours, you leave the bathroom and make your way back to your seats.

As you sit down, Ellie adjusts her glasses once more, her fingers brushing the lenses. The light catches on the silver frames, making them sparkle. You can't help but stare at her, your heart full to bursting.

The rest of the movie is a blur. You can't focus on anything except for the girl beside you. Every now and then, your knees will bump, sending electric jolts through your body.

When the credits start rolling, you both sit there in stunned silence. Then, without a word, Ellie takes your hand and leads you out of the cinema.

The cool night air is a welcome relief, but it does nothing to calm your racing heart. You walk in silence for a few blocks, not knowing what to say. Finally, you look over at Ellie, who's walking with her eyes downcast. "Thank you," you say softly, not meeting her gaze. "For tonight." She nods and smiles, walking you home. When you get home she plants a soft kiss to your cheek and says goodbye.

The next day at school, you and Ellie are back to your old selves, or so it seems. You're sitting together at lunch, leaning in close as you talk. Every now and then, one of you will brush a strand of hair from the other's face.

It's subtle, but charged with a new meaning. In class, you catch Ellie glancing at you from under her lashes, her cheeks flushed. You feel like you're walking on eggshells, unsure of where you stand with her.

Then, in the middle of a lesson, disaster strikes. Your textbook slips from your grasp, landing with a thud at your feet. You bend down to pick it up, unaware of the brief but tantalizing view you're giving Ellie.

Her eyes go wide as you're bent over in your short skirt, the fabric riding up to give a peek of stocking and skin. You stand up quickly, face burning. Ellie looks away, trying to hide her smirk.

That night, you're scrolling through social media when an invitation for a party catches your eye. It's being held at a friend's house, and they're encouraging everyone to come.

You hesitate for a moment before texting Ellie. "Hey, wanna go to this party tonight? I know it's last minute, but it could be fun." You send the message, hoping she'll say yes. A few minutes later, her response pops up. "Sure why not" You grin, feeling a rush of excitement.

You're not sure what the night will bring, but you're ready for whatever happens. When you arrive at the party, it's already in full swing. Ellie takes your hand as you make your way through the crowd, the two of you laughing and joking. But every now and then, your eyes meet and hold, the connection between you sparking like a live wire.

The party is in full swing, with pulsing music and bodies moving to the beat. You grab Ellie's hand, pulling her onto the makeshift dance floor. "Dance with me," you demand, your voice urgent. Ellie can't help but laugh at your insistent tone. "Okay, okay," she relents, letting you pull her close.

As the song builds, you spin Ellie around until she's facing away from you. Without a word, you grab her hips and start grinding your ass against her crotch.

Ellie lets out a surprised yelp before melting into your touch, her own hips starting to move in time with yours.

The sensation is electric, your bodies moving together like they were made to. You're oblivious to everything around you, lost in the feeling of Ellie pressed against you.

As you continue to grind against each other, Ellie places her hands on your hips, guiding you in a slow, sensual circle.

The motion is hypnotic, drawing you both into a trance-like state. The music swirls around you, blending with the sound of your heavy breathing.

Every now and then, one of you will let out a soft moan, the sound swallowed up by the thumping bass. The crowd around you fades away until it's just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Ellie pulls you back, her chest pressing against your spine. You can feel the rapid beat of her heart, matching your own. Without looking, you reach back and lace your fingers with hers, the gesture intimate and possessive.

You spin around suddenly, your lips crashing against Ellie's in a rough, needy kiss. Your tongues tangle as you devour each other, the sweet taste of saliva and lust mixing in your mouth.

Ellie kisses you back just as fiercely, her hands coming up to grip your shirt. You rip yourself away after what feels like an eternity, both of you breathing heavily.

Ellie's lips are swollen, glasses askew and slightly reddened from the force of your kisses. You stare at each other, chests heaving, hearts pounding. Without a word, you take Ellie's hand and drag her out of the party, into the cool night air.

The music and laughter fade behind you, replaced by the sound of your own racing pulses.

As you step outside, Ellie suddenly tightens her grip on your hand, her fingers digging into your skin. You look down to see her eyes flashing with an intense emotion.

Without a word, she starts pulling you along the sidewalk, your feet moving quickly to keep up with her long strides.

You don't resist, your curiosity piqued. Soon you're at Ellie's front door, her hand fumbling in her pocket for keys.

She unlocks the door and pulls you inside, slamming it shut behind you. In the dim lighting of the foyer, Ellie turns to face you, her expression fierce. "Mine," she hisses, before crashing her lips against yours in a dominant, claiming kiss.

Ellie kisses you with a possession and hunger that takes your breath away. Her tongue plunges into your mouth, exploring every inch. One of her hands fists in your hair, holding you in place as she devours you.

The other hand roams your body, slipping under your shirt to brand you with her touch. You feel like prey being consumed by a starved animal.

Ellie breaks the kiss, panting heavily. Without a word, she grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs to her bedroom. She slams the door shut behind you, locking it with a resounding click. In the dim light, you can see the intensity in her eyes as she advances on you. "I've been waiting for this," she whispers, her voice husky. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

The other hand roams your body, slipping under your shirt to brand you with her touch. You feel like prey being consumed by a starved animal.

Ellie breaks the kiss, panting heavily. Without a word, she grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs to her bedroom.

She slams the door shut behind you, locking it with a resounding click. In the dim light, you can see the intensity in her eyes as she advances on you. "I've been waiting for this," she whispers, her voice husky. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

As Ellie advances on you, her glasses slip down her nose, the frames tilting rakishly. In the dim light, you can see the glint of the silver hinges and temple pieces.

She reaches up to push them back into place, her fingers trembling slightly with urgency. "I've been wanting to do this for so long," she breathes, her pupils blown wide with desire. Her hands come up to grip your shoulders, pulling you close until her body is pressed hard against yours.

You can feel every curve and angle of her, the softness of her breasts, the hardness of her stomach. Ellie's lips brush against your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Gonna take my time with you," she whispers, her voice sending sparks of anticipation through your veins.

You're acutely aware of what you're wearing as Ellie presses her body against yours - the thin fabric of your shirt doing little to conceal your heated skin, the mini skirt riding up your thighs with every brush of her hips.

You can feel Ellie's eyes on you, her gaze igniting with desire at the sight of your barely covered curves.

She runs her hands down your sides, fingertips grazing the underside of your breasts, teasing the swell of your hips. "You look so hot right now," Ellie purrs, her hot breath tickling your ear. She nibbles on your lobe, her teeth sharp and excitingly painful.

You let out a soft gasp, your own hunger rising to match hers. Without a word, Ellie starts tugging your shirt over your head, revealing your bra-clad breasts to her hungry gaze. She latches onto one nipple, suckling hard as her fingers hook into your skirt and start to pull.

Ellie's mouth is a hot, slick wonder as she suckles your nipples, her tongue swirling around the hardened buds. You arch your back, pressing yourself more fully into her eager mouth. Every suck sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

Meanwhile, her fingers continue their exploration of your body, dipping beneath your skirt to find the slick heat between your thighs. Two fingers push inside, curling against your sensitive walls as she strokes and teases. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction.

Ellie hums against your skin, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as her fingers pump steadily. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, the dual stimuli threatening to overwhelm you with pleasure.

You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter. With Ellie's mouth on your nipples and her fingers inside you, you're teetering on the brink of a powerful climax.

The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your entire body convulsing with the intensity of it. You cry out, the sound muffled by Ellie's mouth still attached to your breast.

She rides out your climax with you, sucking gently as you tremble and gasp. Finally, you go limp in her arms, boneless and thoroughly satisfied. Ellie pulls back, her lips glistening with your milk.

Without a word, she drops to her knees in front of you, her glasses sliding down her nose once more. She looks up at you through the frames, her eyes dark with desire. "I need to taste you," she whispers, her voice husky with need. Before you can respond, her tongue is on you, licking and probing. The sudden change has you quivering again, your nerves freshly frayed.

As Ellie's tongue works its magic, her glasses start to fog up from the steam of your wetness. The condensation clouds the lenses, blurring her vision.

But she doesn't stop, too focused on worshipping you with her mouth to care. "fuck baby, you taste so good," she moans, the words muffled and indistinct through the fogged glass.

She laps at you eagerly, her breath hot on your sensitive flesh. Occasionally, she'll lift her head to glare down at you through the milky white lenses, as if daring you to tell her to stop. But you won't. You'll let her eat you out until you're ready to explode again.

As the aftershocks of your second orgasm subside, Ellie sits back on her heels, her glasses still fogged up. She looks at you with a serious expression, even as her fingers start rummaging through her dresser drawer.

"do u trust me?," she says softly, pulling out a sleek strap-on. Her eyes meet yours, searching. "promise I'll make it feel good." She holds out the wand, offering it to you with a vulnerable smile.

You nod eagerly, your eyes squeezing shut as if in reverence. Strap on in Ellie's hand, her fingers wrapping around the slick shaft. She stands up, as she steps out of her pants. Underneath, she's wearing only a pair of boxers, the fabric stretched tightly across her mound now the strap-on hanging low on her hips. Her shirt remains on, the hem riding high on her stomach.

Ellie looks at you over her shoulder, her glasses still fogged from her earlier efforts. She gives you a sultry smile, her eyes dark with promise. Then she's turning around, the strap-on swaying between her legs as she walks back towards you. "ready?" she whispers, her voice husky with anticipation.

Without another word, she presses the slick head of the toy against your entrance, lining it up carefully. Then she's pushing forward, the broad tip parting your folds.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your eyes flying open. Ellie doesn't stop until the hilt is buried inside you, the toy nestled deep. She gives your hip a gentle stroke, as if checking you're ready. she asks you to get on your hands and knees then, she starts to thrust.

Ellie starts to thrust the toy in and out of you, the slick shaft gliding easily inside your slick heat. She sets a slow, steady rhythm, her hips undulating sensually.

As she picks up pace, she leans over you, her chest pressing against your back. You can feel her hard nipples poking into your skin, even through her shirt. "Fuck, you're so tight," she hisses in your ear. "Gonna make me cum just feeling you clench around this." Her fingers tighten on your hip, her breathing growing more erratic.

"Gonna fill this pussy up," she continues, her voice low and filthy. "Mine, you're so fucking mine ."

Ellie's words send a shiver down your spine, her dark promises only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through you. You can feel your body responding, your walls rippling around the toy buried inside.

Ellie must feel it too, because she lets out a triumphant moan. "That's it, baby. Cmon," She starts thrusting harder, the broad shaft stirring up your insides.

The wet sounds of your coupling fill the room, mingling with your heavy breathing and Ellie's filthy encouragements. "Fuck yeah, you like that," she growls, her fingers biting into your flesh. "Take my cock, fuckin-" her words spur you on, the forbidden heat of them only adding to the intensity.

Your orgasm starts to build, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter. Ellie must sense it too, because she's panting heavily now, her hips slapping against your ass as she chases her own climax.

As you start to come down from your intense orgasm, you realize with a start that Ellie hasn't let you finish yet.

Your sensitive walls are still fluttering, your body tingling with oversensitization. Ellie keeps thrusting, the toy rubbing over your most tender spots.

But she seems to be holding back, her hips moving in a slow, shallow grind. Your eyes fly open, meeting Ellie's gaze over your shoulder. She gives you a wicked smile, her eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," she mouths, the word silent but clear.

She continues to tease you, the toy gliding over your aching flesh. You're trapped in a state of suspended pleasure, desperate to come again but unable to until Ellie says so.

A few minutes pass, the air thick with tension. Ellie's thrusts continue, the toy bumping against her own clit with every stroke.

The stimulation seems to be getting to her, her breaths coming in sharper gasps. You can feel her heart racing against your back, her excitement palpable. Suddenly, Ellie stills, holding the toy deep inside you.

For a long moment, she's absolutely still, her body rigid. Then, with a sharp cry, she pulls out of you and comes hard, her orgasm pulsing through her veins. "Fuck yes" she screams, her fingers finding your clit.

With a final, powerful stroke, she sends you hurtling into a second climax. This time, you come undone, your body shaking and convulsing as Ellie milks you with firm, deliberate strokes. You collapse back against her, utterly spent, as she continues to bring you down from your highs.

After a few seconds of gentle aftershocks, you're able to crawl up to Ellie, your eyes locking onto the toy still glistening with your combined juices. Without hesitation, you lean down and suck the slick shaft into your mouth, licking and cleaning Ellie's toy with eager, filthy enthusiasm. Ellie throws her head back, her eyes rolling as she enjoys the sight. "Oh fuck yes, just like that," she moans, her voice dripping with lust. "Holy fucking shit..."

You continue sucking the toy, licking every inch of Ellie's deliciously dirty shaft. But then, without warning, you suddenly pull away.

Confused, Ellie looks down to see you picking up the toy and pulling it away. Before she can react, you pull down her boxers to expose her pale, sensitive flesh.

You dive in, your tongue lapping eagerly at her intimate skin. Ellie's eyes go wide, her body arching in shock. "Wha- what are you...?" Her question trails off into a needy moan as you start to eat her out.

You continue eating Ellie out, your tongue dancing across her sensitive skin. She tosses her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull as she loses herself to the sensations. "Hhhnnn..." is all she can manage, her body going limp in abandonment.

You don't stop at just eating Ellie out - you bring your fingers into the act as well. One hand dives between her thighs, the fingers of your index and middle finger finding her sensitive entrance.

You tease the edges, your tongue probing deeply as your fingers start to pump inside her. Ellie is lost, her eyes rolling back as she surrenders to your dual ministrations. "Shiiit..." is all she can manage, her body shaking with the force of her climax.

While Ellie is still recovering from her intense orgasm, you crawl up the bed, your movements unhurried. When you reach her, you gently grab the hem of her shirt and sports bra.

With slow, reverent fingers, you start to pull them up her body. Ellie assists by lifting her arms, letting you strip away her last bits of clothing.

You reveal her bare skin to the cool air, her pale flesh dotted with the rosy aftermath of her climax. You take a moment to simply look at her, drinking in the sight of her naked body. Then, with a hungry glance, you start to kiss and lick your way across her chest.

You continue licking and kissing Ellie's bare skin, your tongue darting across her collarbone. She tastes so sweet, like honey and salt. You move lower, your lips finding her nipple. You suck the bud into your mouth, teasing it with your tongue.

Ellie arches into your touch, her fingers tangles in your hair. "Mmmph..." is her only response, the sound muffled by your mouth on her breast.

You nip and tease the tender flesh, earning breathy little gasps from Ellie. Her back arches, pushing her chest further into your hungry mouth.

You continue teasing Ellie's nipple, your teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Her back arches, pushing her breast further into your mouth. You suck harder, your lips pulling tightly around the bud.

Ellie gasps, her fingers tightening in your hair. You let go with a pop, looking up to see stars in Ellie's eyes. Her chest heaves with exertion, her pink nipples stiff with arousal.

You start to trail kisses down her stomach, your fingers dipping into her navel. "Please," Ellie whimpers, her voice hitching with need. "Don't stop."

You continue trailing kisses down Ellie's stomach, your fingers dancing across her skin. Eventually, you reach the hem of the bed, and you plant a soft kiss on her skin before pulling away.

You collapse on top of her, your naked bodies pressing together. You look up at her, your lips curving into a wicked smirk. Then you capture her mouth in a searing kiss, your tongues entwining.

The kiss goes on for a long moment, your bodies tangled together in a mess of limbs and lips and heated skin. Eventually, you break apart for air, your chests heaving. Ellie looks at you with hazy, lust-filled eyes, her cheeks flushed. "Holy shit," she breathes.

You continue making out with Ellie, your lips moving hungrily over hers. Your hands roam her body, touching and teasing wherever they land. The kiss grows more heated, more desperate.

Ellie's fingers tangle in your hair, her tongue dueling with yours. The world narrows down to the two of you, lost in a haze of lust and desire. Time seems to slow, each second stretching out into an eternity.

There's only the two of you, tangled together in a messy tangle of arms and legs, your lips locked in a passionate embrace.

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riekirei · 3 months

Text

00:00 — nishimura riki

your boyfriend, riki, came home after an exhausting day, working and practicing. you stay up and wait for him til late to see him come home, tired.

pairing: idol bf!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: reader and riki call each other baby, reader kisses riki on the forehead and cheek

[requested]

word count: 735

author’s note: this is just so cutee. i enjoyed writing this sm and i hope you enjoy reading it as well! not proofreaadd btw

[🎧 now playing: soren by beabadobee]

22:12

you were scrolling on your phone, laying down across the couch with a fluffy blanket covering you body. you were waiting for riki to get home from working at the hybe building. you figured he was up practicing after a long day of promoting and shooting for their recent comeback. you weren't too sure where he was at the moment. he might've been on his way home, maybe even at the studio this late at night.

22:27

you decide to text him.

“babyyy”

“where r uu :(“

you type in and send. you blink a few times, feeling how droopy your eyes were. it was getting late and you couldn’t deny how sleepy you were. you yawned as you shut your phone off, laying it by your side. you pulled your blanket up to your chin and laid there, wondering were riki could be.

22:46

some time later, you check your phone to see if he had responded. ‘delivered.’ riki hadn’t opened your message. he was probably on his way home right now so you didn’t really worry.

your eyelids were heavy and you couldn’t fight off how much you wanted to sleep. eventually, you fell asleep on the couch, tucked into the fluffy blanket.

23:07

you awake to the sound of keys clanking right outside the door. the doorknob twisted and the door opened, revealing the sight of your boyfriend. he took his shoes off and dropped his bag onto the floor. you rubbed your eyes and just as you were about to stand up and greet him, you see him walk into the bedroom with his eyes half shut.

“woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going?” you ask him as he trailed off. “sleep” he said. “noo, baby. not just yet. we need to get you washed up first” you told him. riki stops and turns to see you. “babyy~ can we go to sleep?” he asks you, slowly blinking and standing still, clearly tired. you walk towards him and grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the bathroom you had in the room. “let’s wash up first, pleaaaseee?” you softly say, looking into his eyes. riki nods and walks with you towards the bathroom.

you help him get into the shower and handed him his towel and his new change of clothes. riki took a quick shower and as soon as he got out, you helped him dry his hair and body. you made sure he was feeling okay. as you pat his face down with a towel, you could tell just by his eyes how exhausted he was. “tired hm?” you asked him. all he did was nod. you smile and caress his cheek.

23:32

after riki washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed his clothes, he laid down onto his side of the bed. you came shortly after with a glass of water you took from the kitchen while riki was changing. you handed it over to him and waited for him to finish before setting it aside for him on the bedside table. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and closed the lights, leaving only a dim one by the doorway lit up.

you watched riki as his eyes shut. you rub circles onto his temples and forehead to help him relax and release any tension he had. riki then rested his hand by your waist, bringing you in slightly closer. your hands move up and made its way onto his hair. you play with it and lightly massaged his scalp. riki had a smile across his face.

23:49

you thought of putting pain relief patches on his shoulders to relieve any of the pain his muscles might’ve had from practicing and working all day. you get up to fetch them from a drawer in your closet. you gently lift his shoulders up to place the patches onto them. you lay him back down, looking at him, admiring how pretty he was.

23:59

you pushed riki’s hair back and gave him a kiss on the forehead and on the cheek. going back down, riki hugged your torso and you buried your face into his chest. “i’m so proud of you for always working hard. good night. i love you, riki” you say before closing your eyes and finally falling asleep in his embrace.

00:00

“i do it for you. i love you more, y/n”

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swordgrace · 2 months

Text

𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘.

༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS: in the aftermath of rook’s rest, you seek aemond out to inquire about his wellbeing. instead, you find him somewhere else — somewhere unexpected. (set after S2 EP4).

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 5.2K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni) , spoilers for s2 ep4, public sex / risk of getting caught, knifeplay, imbalance of power, rough sex, darkish!aemond, dom!aemond, p in v sex (unprotected), oral (f!receiving), fingering, brief tiddy sucking, groping, biting / marking, hair pulling, choking, fucking right in front of the iron throne, inaccurate high valyrian, brief dirty talk, lots of aemond’s inner thoughts, breeding kink if you squint, aemond is extremely possessive of the reader to an unhealthy degree.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: to preface, I am working on requests, this just happened to make its way out of my brain before anything else did. This was inspired by the single shot of Aemond standing in front of the Iron Throne in the S2 EP5 trailer, you can tell how desperate I got as soon as I saw it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! There will be a Jace fic dropping tomorrow, too! ❤️

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 — a seat of power constructed by Aegon the Conqueror in the aftermath of a bloodied war, forged from thousands of surrendered swords.

In the days of Aegon the Conqueror, it was said that the Throne was sometimes too high to climb, a jagged labyrinth of blades melded by dragon’s fire, a throne fit for any ruler. Men impaled themselves upon one another’s blades for it, turned against one another, endless betrayals and treacheries ensued all for the sake of the endgame, to see themselves upon the Throne.

Brother turned against brother — you didn’t expect anything less from Aemond, whose desire to exact revenge boiled just beneath the surface. The Battle at Rook’s Rest had proved a slaughter on all fronts, between the decimation of both Cole’s armies and the castle they laid siege upon, to the death of the Princess Rhaenys and her dragon, Melys.

Whispers spread through the Red Keep in regards to King Aegon’s condition, bones crushed beneath the weight of Sunfyre, who plummeted from the skies in a ball of fire. His flesh was scorched, half of his body melded to the Valyrian Steel armor he wore, burnt beyond recognition.

If they were to be believed, King Aegon was gravely wounded — and if a fatality ensued, who would then bear the mantle of King?

A restless dusk gripped King’s Landing as the surviving soldiers from Cole’s armies arrived at the city gates, King Aegon amongst the wounded. In what you considered to be a mass panic and hysteria, Maesters rushed to diligently attend to their King, who seemed to be meeting a simmering grave inside of his armor — it would be his tomb if they weren’t careful.

Merely a handmaiden and servant to nobility, the antics of your masters didn’t interest you — you were wholly preoccupied with your own survival and self-preservation, amongst other things. It was said that Aemond and Vhagar had swarmed the battlefield and come to King Aegon’s defense, but by the time they had, Aegon had been swallowed by dragonfire.

Part of you had difficulty believing that Aemond truly attempted to save his elder brother, given Aemond’s embittered sentiments. Your relationship with the Prince had transcended all bonds of propriety — and if anyone were to find out, they would likely have your head for sullying his virtue.

Nevertheless, as chaos swarmed around you, you knew exactly who to seek out. Queen Alicent had little desire to be hounded by handmaidens while her eldest son struggled to hang onto his own life, something you could understand. Instead, you made for Aemond’s chambers, the route embedded into your mind.

You sought him — all of him. His lilac hue, a maelstrom of forlorn emotions, and his silvery tresses, like cascading silk, embedded themselves into your mind. His cunning countenance and beguiled expression were like hot-iron brands cast onto your thoughts, tormenting you with each waking moment.

As you stepped closer to the Throne Room, no longer guarded by Kingsguard, you saw the great door ajar — no King atop the throne. You wondered if he would live, Aegon — a drunken, broken man who preferred his cups and whores over ruling — or if he would perish.

You knew who would sit the Iron Throne, should Aegon fall.

A heavy darkness had befallen the throne room, fitting for the many tragedies, like the gloom of a shadow haunting all who dared to enter. Curiosity gripped you as you stepped inside, a place well above your station, yet you wondered if there was anyone inside.

The doors remained shut, save for the one you slipped through, the gap slim. Flickering braziers provided some illumination to such a grandeur hall, but it seemed so dour and lifeless without the presence of the day, without subjects fluttering in and out. Instead, it provided an ominous sense of dread, as if luring those inside with dark omens and false promises.

A familiar crown of silvery tresses stood at the very center, before the throne — he didn’t need to turn around for you to know who it was. He seemed entirely unscathed by the battle at Rook’s Rest, hands carefully folded behind his back, posture poised and dignified.

Aegon’s dagger flashed within his right hand, clutched tightly at his side. You wondered how he had acquired the blade so swiftly after a tragedy — but you knew. You had always known of Aemond’s nature, of his restrained resentment towards his brother, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Aemond.” Your voice reverberated throughout the throne room, carrying a fair distance as you closed the door behind you. The studded mahogany groaned in protest, yet bent to your will as it closed with a noisy thud. Admittedly, you were surprised to see him here, and not in the comfort of his chambers.

He didn’t move, rigid and still as you quietly approached, dresses sweeping across the smooth stone beneath you. His violet hues remained transfixed upon the Iron Throne, a throne that would soon be his, if fate favored him. So many swords, so much strife and conflict that forged such a chair — so much bloodshed.

Aemond often wondered what the weight of the crown would feel like upon his brow — and even then, he knew he would wear it better than Aegon ever could. He had stood by the wayside for far too long, learned in his studies and a talented swordsman, wondering if it would all have some reward, some payoff.

Now, his opportunity was swiftly approaching.

Whatever anger he’d often kept leashed, it had struck out, like the bite of a poisonous viper, sinking into its prey with all its bitter viciousness. It was the same tempestuous rage that had lashed at Lucerys Velaryon, and now it had struck his brother, Aegon the Magnanimous.

A stupid sobriquet for a stupid man — a drunken fool. Aemond would simply pass it off as an unfortunate accident, with Aegon carelessly stepping into the line of fire whilst tangling with the Queen Who Never Was. Swift decisions had to be made on his part, his brother a victim of such action.

Any silver-tongued words that would placate his Mother, he was prepared to let them fly. Aemond knew enough to know that the consequences would be slim, and those of true action and cruel intentions would take Aegon’s place — men like himself.

Soft footfalls fell across black stone, and you called his name again, like a siren’s song luring the sailor into deeper waters. “Aemond.” It was saccharine, dripping with genuine warmth that the Prince was simply unaccustomed to.

The unexpected lull of your voice broke his fixation, and he looked to you with a gaze full of desire. It was a farcry from the frustrated, despondent man you’d encountered days prior following the incident at the brothel. There was a newfound fire within his eyes, a confidence restored — a sense of triumph.

Admittedly, you were rather perplexed by this invigorated side to Aemond — that wild gleam within his lilac eye only seemed to grow in intensity as you approached him. “I heard the news of what happened to your brother,” You began, pondering his reaction. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

The admiration he had for you only seemed to blossom, knowing that you were simply keeping up appearances for his sake. Aemond’s mouth tilted into the ghost of a smirk, feigning melancholy despite the truth of his own actions. “It was a horrible thing, what happened to the King,” He uttered, glancing toward the throne. “I wish for his swift recovery.”

A facade was a mere understatement — you could almost taste the smug bemusement that rested within Aemond’s tone. The slight quirk of his mouth, the manner in which he spoke — his sympathies for Aegon were nonexistent.

“As any good brother would.” You replied, stepping closer until you stood before the Iron Throne, gaze falling upon the thousands of swords swarming the seat, blades of many shapes and sizes. You wondered about the people behind each sword — who swung it, what their lives must’ve been like.

A brief hum escaped Aemond, who observed you hawkishly as you approached, violet hue greedily drinking you in as he had many times before. You had stood so faithfully by his side, never admonished him for the brash actions taken against his family, never deemed him pathetic for what happened at the brothel.

He cared little for your station, little for your status as a lowborn — if he sat the Iron Throne, he could have whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter if you were a commoner, Aemond could envision you as his wife, a Queen — no longer bowing to the whims of greater men and women who cared little for you.

“Did my Mother dismiss you this evening?” Aemond questioned, digits tense around the pommel of Aegon’s knife — now his. Seeing as he was no longer fit to carry the weapon, it was only just that it pass to his brother, his next of kin.

“She did,” A gentle exhale escaped you, one that allowed you to maintain your composure. Being in Aemond’s presence seemed to make you dizzy with desire with each passing moment — not a new sentiment, but an intoxicating one. “I was coming to find you, to see if you were well after the battle.”

Shamelessly, Aemond became quite aroused at the thought of you wandering about the Red Keep with the single-minded desire to see him. His blood ran hot after the battle — the surge of adrenaline did not lessen in your presence.

His jaw tensed slightly as he appraised you, taking a step closer, brazenly closing the distance between you both. He could smell your perfume, the warm bouquet of flowers and a touch of honey. “How thoughtful.” His voice dropped to a low purr, dripping with the first inklings of lust.

Your breath hitched, words turning to ash upon your tongue as your fingers curled into your dress. Aemond enticed you in ways that no man had before — and he saw you, a woman beneath the gowns of a servant. The hammering of your heart within your chest had stirred something powerful — your want for him consumed you like a tidal wave.

Before you could utter his name, he descended like a starving wolf to kiss you, open-mouthed and bleeding lust. You shivered, wanting to coax him into returning to his chambers before things became heated. His hand dropped to seize your hip, hauling you closer to him until no space was left between your bodies.

You reciprocated his kiss, able to hear a faint growl of approval building up within his throat. It was fiery and hot, with little concern of who might see you. Aemond was growing emboldened, brazen knowing the power he now held within his grasp.

“We should return to your quarters,” You whispered, a strained whimper tearing past your lips as Aemond kissed your jaw, sucking at the flesh of your neck. “Aemond, we can’t — not here.” Your breathy pleas fell upon deaf ears — what better place to claim you than before his new throne?

“We can,” Aemond murmured, pushing your tresses aside as he claimed your throat, laying waste to your flesh in his rabid kisses and hungry bites. “The rest of the Keep is preoccupied.” His reassurance was threadbare at best, but you were beginning to slip off of the deep end, fingers clawing at his tunic.

“What if someone sees?” Fear trickled into your voice, a subtle fright that Aemond found to be enticing. You worried for your own skin — he could understand that. A moan escaped you as Aemond nipped at your jugular, squeezing at your hips.

You failed to comprehend that he would protect you, shield you if needed. He did not need to justify his obsession for you, just as Aegon never offered any justification for his nightly whore hunts. Aemond seemed quick to soothe your worry, hand clasping at the nape of your neck.

“Then I will have their head,” His delectable purr dropped an octave, scratching the itch within your head. “You needn’t worry, ñuha dōna. I can do whatever I wish.” Aemond assured you, a great fire burning within his lilac hue. The leather of his eyepatch concealed the listless sapphire beneath.

He only needed to serve himself — his family cared little for him, and the world was often against him. He looked forward to facing Daemon whenever the time came, should he be bold enough to challenge him. Aemond dismissed it all — Aegon, his mother, Criston Cole — the only thing that mattered were the both of you.

Aemond’s streak of possessiveness had grown into something uncontrollable, a festering desire to keep you close, spiraling into obsession. You were many things to him, many things he coveted for himself.

After a moment of hesitation, you decided to make things tempting for Aemond, loosening the bodice of your dress. His breath hitched, the noise subtle if one wasn’t observant enough. He seized the back of your head once more, hungrily pressing his lips to yours, consuming you in another heated kiss.

A dour portrait of dusk hovers around the Red Keep, its shadowy tendrils slinking into the throne room. Only moonlight and dying braziers are your guide, and Aemond is at his prettiest whenever he’s touched by the silvery rays. It strikes his narrow visage, paints his silky tresses in pale light.

He is closer to a god now than he is a man — fortunately, you were willing to return to religion if it meant that Aemond was who you worshiped. As much as you liked to believe it was the foundation of your relationship, he thought of it alternatively, the roles reversed.

Your digits slip beneath the overcoat he wore, marred by speckled dirt and brimstone. His broad, sinewy shoulders are concealed by his tunic, and he seems vastly overdressed compared to you, still wearing your servant’s clothes. Aemond had gotten you a dress to wear with him before — you never wore it otherwise.

There is a certain intensity in the way he kisses you, as if each embrace might be your last. In the aftermath of a battle, you understand such sentiments, given the fate of the King and the Princess Rhaenys.

A growl reverberates within the depths of his throat as he pries his mouth away from you, gesturing toward the flight of obsidian steps that ascend toward the Iron Throne. “There,” He uttered, more of a command than a suggestion. “Lay down.”

A shudder rolls down the length of your spine, followed by an onslaught of goosebumps that snake across your flesh like a fever. Your stomach churned with anticipation, filling with the sensation of sloshing heat, burning brighter as each moment passed.

Without question, you step toward the throne, noticing the sharpness of some blades, the dullness of others. You find your footing upon the last step, feeling Aemond stalk closer. The rustling of his belt makes you shiver, only to find the steely chill of the Conqueror’s knife pressed against the dip between your shoulder and neck.

Aemond closes in behind you, caging you against his chest, like a predator swarming hapless prey. His narrow nose brushed along your soft tresses as he dragged the tip of the knife from your shoulder to ribcage. “Shall I cut this from you?” He uttered, digging the Valyrian steel into the fabric of your dress.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you brace yourself for the bite of the knife, for the unruly tear of fabric, but it never comes. Instead, Aemond’s mouth pressed vigorous kisses against your neck, hand seizing you by the throat.

“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke.” Aemond purred, feeling you turn within his grasp. Desire oozed between you both, an onslaught of carnality soon to follow. His lilac hue flickered over your countenance, drinking in your beauty with unrestrained rapture. You belong to me.

From what little High Valyrian you’d learned in the time you’ve been with Aemond, you strung enough of the sentence together to know what he meant. “Iksan aōhon.” A soft whimper emerged from between your parted lips, noticing the way his pupil dilated with amorous intent.

I am yours.

A flame of obsession roared within his gaze, enough to burn you alive where you stood. Aemond reveled in your submission to him, drank in your devotion — a devotion that would prove fruitful, should he ascend the throne. The tip of the knife prodded into your sternum, and you absentmindedly leaned forward.

Aemond captured your mouth once more, laying claim to you — his paramour. There was nothing sweeter than your desperate mewls and reciprocated passion, the succor of your mouth, the saccharine scent of your perfume.

The both of you descended to the floor, icy and stony as it prodded into your back. He knelt between your legs, gaze momentarily flickering between the shadow of the Iron Throne and your mesmerized visage. Aemond kissed you again, nipping at your lower lip before rucking up your skirts, pushing them toward your hips.

With one knee, he bullied his way in between your thighs, breaths heavier, wrought with anticipation as he lowered his mouth to your collarbone. In one smooth tug, he loosened your bodice, wrestling with the coarse material as he buried his face into your silky skin.

The throes of passion filled the air — short gasps and labored pants accompanied by the constant shuffling of fabric. “Aemond,” You moaned, watching as he bit the leather of his glove, removing the garment in one jerk of his head. Flesh to flesh, he moved to drag his digits along your weeping slit. “Aemond.” Urgency crept into your voice, strung-out by need.

“Hm,” His cajoling hum sent shivers down your spine, heat sloshing around within your stomach. Arousal pooled between your thighs, nectar sticky and gathering swiftly. “What a delicious gift you’ve given me.” Aemond uttered, slender digits continuing to stroke at your cunt, his pace agonizingly slow.

Lifting his fingers to his lips, he let them rest upon his tongue, gathering your juices to taste. A satisfied grunt of approval escaped him, one that made you meld into the floor. It was an uncomfortable surface, yet any thought of discomfort dissipated the moment Aemond’s lips pressed against the inside of your knee.

Instinctively, your hands flew toward his crown of silken tresses, digging in with an ironclad hold. Aemond released a low hiss of satisfaction, pressing hot kisses along the inside of your thigh. He dipped lower, breath fanning across your cunt.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.

“Aemond!” Your voice rose above the cacophony of lewd noises ensuing below, noisy enough to reverberate throughout the throne room. It worried you, the potential of someone finding you with the Prince-Regent between your legs, but pleasure began to outweigh logic.

His name felt sweet from your mouth — if Aemond had it his way, he would make you say it a thousand times over. The sharp bridge of his nose buried itself into your mound, cock twitching within the leather of his breeches.

Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.

The Iron Throne overshadowed the both of you, a jagged mess of swords surrounded by dusk. Slats of moonlight trickled in from the stained glass above, falling across his visage, violet hue sparkling with lust. His lips greedily kissed at your clit, causing your hips to lurch forward.

“Look at me.” A pointed demand spoken from an edged tongue, one that commanded your attention without wavering. With a strangled moan, you turned your head to him, furthering the fire within your belly. Your doe-eyed stare locked onto him, lips falling apart.

As your eyes flickered over his poised features, your hand tightened within his tresses, coaxing him closer toward the apex of your thighs. Aemond wasn’t sly at suppressing the delight he felt in that moment, greedily lapping at your cunt.

You watched, enthralled by the ministrations of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, the tantalizing efforts made to draw you back in. His features were carved like marble, by the steady hand of a sculptor — godly, in the best way possible.

Aemond hoped that your blissful cries would alert the guards — perhaps, all could bear witness to his carnal delights, know that you belonged to him and him alone. His lips crawled to a sluggish pace, made only to torment you as he peppered feather-light kisses against your clit. The lack of pressure nearly made you wretch, digits curling into a fist.

Every fiber of your being felt as if it had been set ablaze, washed within the fires of his affection. He knew your body well, as well as he knew his own, tongue dipping to have a taste of your core as it lightly jutted against your entrance. You whimpered, the noise pathetic and pitiful, yet overwhelmingly eager.

“Please,” You moaned, breathy and clawing for some shred of release, canting your hips forward. Aemond retreated, just enough to leave you writing upon the steps before a sly chuckle reverberated between your thighs. His torture of you was playful and intimate, intended to make you beg. “Please, Aemond!”

How could he deny you when you sounded so sweet?

With a soft hum, Aemond returned to devour your cunt, drink from the nectar that oozed between your legs. His hands situated themselves against your thighs, nails digging in enough to leave behind traces of angered crescent marks.

The heat between your legs intensified, arousal stinging your bones, body bent underneath Aemond’s will as he lapped at your core. His lips were accompanied by his spindly digits as two fingers prodded at your entrance, feeling the crescendo of your whimpers before sinking themselves into your tight cunt.

Squelching intermingled with that of brazen pants and your myriad of moans, a cacophony of lust that permeated the throne room. It felt sinful, to defile the steps of a seat of power, but that shame swiftly contorted into bliss — it felt good.

It felt good to be desired, for Aemond to feel not an ounce of regret or remorse for being with you or for the carnage his actions wrought. The darkness that festered within his eye only grew, once a flickering shade, now growing into something sprawling.

At last, his lips pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your back arched from the stone, thighs rattling like falling leaves as he brought about your ruin. His digits viciously pumped in and out of your cunt, preparing you for the act that was to follow.

His tongue lashed across his lower lip, not wasting a drop of what sweetness you provided him with. Aemond’s mouth hastily abandoned your cunt, yet the curling of his fingers seemed to make up for the loss of pleasure. You felt his wet lips purse around the pebbled peak of your breast, suckling like a greedy babe.

Aemond’s senses drowned in desire, cock throbbing within his trousers, desperate to be inside of you. It wouldn’t be much longer now as he bit and kissed your chest, letting the work manifest as love bites, evidence of his carnal want for you.

“I need you, Aemond. I need you inside of me.” The suddenness of your words left him reeling, a snarl stirring within his chest as his teeth gnashed into the soft flesh between your breasts. You longed to feel his cock lay waste to your cunt, for him to fuck away his anger, his frustration.

Hastily, his hand flew to the ties of his breeches, loosening the threads of leather. You grabbed the front of his tunic, enough to effectively grab his attention as you pulled him in for a hot kiss. Passion bled through, and you could taste yourself upon his tongue as it danced with yours.

The warmth of his cockhead prodded against your folds, already slick with your cum and his own. It was messy, an entanglement born of desire, of the will to possess one another — a claim eternal. Aemond’s hand snaked toward your hip, the other keeping himself afloat before he snapped forward.

His cock invaded your cunt without any sluggishness to it, the deliberation gone entirely. A wild shimmer glistened within his eye, a domineering edge that seemed to wrestle with itself. Aemond wanted to submit to you, but in the wake of Rook’s Rest, adrenaline and a desire for power simply wouldn’t allow it.

As he fucked you like a hound, as Aegon had colorfully put it, Aemond could see you seated beside him, a crown upon your brow, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. A commoner, crawled from dirt and from nothing, into his arms — into a seat of power that none would dare challenge.

Fantasy consumed him, making him mad with lust. He wanted to crawl beneath your flesh, reside there, hear your heart hammering within your breast. He seemed pleasantly surprised when you claimed his mouth, your tongue advancing past his parted lips.

With your skirts having fallen to the swell of your hips, you hitched one leg around him, hand clawing at his back, between his shoulders. “Aemond,” You moaned, overwhelmed by his barrage of erratic thrusts. His stamina was something to witness as he kept a rather vigorous pace. “My King.”

A low growl stirred within his throat, a stark warning not to continue with your current line of thought. Aemond bit at your lower lip, prompting you to moan into his mouth, but you surprised him again when you reciprocated. Things were intense, far more fiery than they ever had been before.

Battle made him hot — such a sensation wasn’t aided by your presence, intensified tenfold. With Aegon wasting away inside of his chambers, steel melting into his flesh, swarmed by flocks of Maesters, Aemond felt no remorse — none at all as he fucked you before the Iron Throne.

He felt no remorse when he ordered Vhagar to burn his brother, he felt no remorse when he brought you into his bed — and he would feel no remorse when he ascended the throne and made you his Queen.

His cock furiously battered away at your cunt, the lewdness of flesh and intermingled breaths being the only sounds that mattered. That lilac hue of his studied your countenance, the devotion and rapture that rest upon it, your complete and utter joy. Aemond had been blessed with the loveliest creature — you.

The stretch you felt as Aemond invaded your nethers was a pleasant one, your walls tight around his length as he continued to fuck you. Face to face, chest to chest — there was no room left for deception, nowhere left to turn to. With a groan, Aemond kissed you yet again.

“Kesan mazverdagon ao ñuha dāria.” I will make you my Queen; he growled into your ear, biting at the shell, the act enough to make you whimper. He filled your cunt with his cock, the only one that it would ever take. In the heat of the moment, he bit at your neck, hand gripping your thigh so hard that it was bound to leave bruises.

Darkness swallowed the hallowed halls — braziers flickering out completely, leaving only moonlight. Even through the silvery haze, Aemond’s face remained a picture of living perfection, his brow creased with concentration.

The fervor of his pace began to slow, cock throbbing with an onslaught of arousal, one that flooded his body with waves of bliss. He wasn’t neglectful of your needs, swiftly placing a hand between your bodies, thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

Heavy footfalls of guardsmen resonated from outside of the sealed doors, a nightly patrol, prompting you to shiver from worry, but Aemond did not stop — and he wouldn’t. His blazing eye bared down upon you, glistening with the sheen of lust, of obsession, a man starved of the love and devotion he so desperately chased.

Your lips felt swollen, a byproduct of Aemond’s biting, of the many shared kisses that had turned into hunger. You were ravenous for him in ways that you had little knowledge of, scraping the surface of what desire truly meant.

Silky, pale tresses fell through your digits as you threaded them within his hair, gripping it in fistfuls as you continued to kiss him until every wisp of air was stolen from your lungs. Aemond did not relent, continuing to adopt a rhythmic pace of fucking you, cock halfway out before he thrust forward again and again.

As the both of you approached the precipice, falling into a white-hot abyss, you could hear him murmuring something in High Valyrian, strings of sweet praises and compliments. His thumb continued to circle your clit even after you had your release, milking his cock with an onslaught of your nectar.

Aemond grunted, forehead nudging against yours as he snapped forward one final time, cock sheathed inside of you as he found a warm place to spill his seed. The recklessness of it was of little consequence to him — an herbal tea could remedy it, yet the thought of filling you with an heir became tantalizing.

Not yet — not now.

If his seed were to take, it would sow discord across his house, and there was enough of that already. Aemond huffed, gathering his composure as your whimpers dwindled into soft pants. His claws sank so deep into you, talons wrenched into your heart, your body, everything.

He placed a kiss upon your brow, a subtle gesture that reminded you of his lingering duality. Aemond pulled himself out of you with an onslaught of stickiness, a mess that would only be remedied by a long soak in the bath — something he would need you for.

Your chest felt tight, both from exhilaration and the intensity of it all. As you adjusted your skirts back into place, Aemond gently coaxed you to your feet, pressed close against you as he stared at the throne. “Perhaps, once I ascend, we will have to make use of the throne.” His salacious purr made you shudder.

“There is no law forbidding us from acting upon that now,” You challenged, and Aemond had to restrain himself from acting upon such a lascivious impulse. For as coy as you could be, you were just as lustful as he was at times, a quality that he greatly adored. “Your Grace.”

As much as the teasing title seemed to provoke him, Aemond grabbed your hips, lips twitching into his familiar smirk, a near-permanent expression. “Aemond,” He corrected, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “For now, I will need assistance with drawing a bath.”

The Throne’s harrowing shape cast its shadow as the both of you abandoned the dark halls and into the light of Aemond’s chambers.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not attempt to steal or translate my works onto other platforms or claim it as your own.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd smut #hotd fanfic

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sleep-drunk-kitten · 3 months

Text

pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, fluff, established relationship

content warnings: emotional neglect, some swearing, hoon is kinda a workaholic ig?, I don't think there's anything that really needs warnings other than this is sad but lmk if I miss anything!

summary: your boyfriend comes home late after promising to be home on time for once, only to find that you're nowhere in sight...

notes: this is another one that I'm not sure how to feel about ;-; but I hope you guys enjoy it TwT fun fact, the whole thing was inspired by an rp that I did with an ai where the robot somehow managed to call me by another person's name while cuddling XD

I'm making a general taglist for my fics so if anyone would like to be added please either send an ask or a DM ^w^

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

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The white noise of your favorite movie buzzes through your living room, conversation and dialogue that you’d learned by heart filling the cold space with a false sense of familiarity. You sit cross-legged with your back pressed into the arm of the L-shaped couch in front of the tv, resting your chin on a plushie held close to your chest, looking not at the flickering screen to your right, but at the clock hanging in your kitchen–the only room in the house with the lights on.

9:17 pm, it reads. Roughly three hours and seventeen minutes since your boyfriend would typically get home from work.

Three hours and seventeen minutes since you’d been waiting on a barstool by the kitchen island where you both usually took your meals.

A tiramisu cake and a bouquet of flowers laid out in front of you.

Waiting.

So much waiting.

After an hour or so, you’d gently slid the cake back into its box, distracting yourself with the task of putting the flowers into a vase before they could wilt.

‘He’s late again,’ you think sleepily, eyes struggling to stay focused on the clock, ’he promised he wouldn’t be tonight.’

Your vision blurs as the long hand hits 12, eyelids too heavy to keep open, mind wandering to the conversation you’d shared with Sunghoon that morning.

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“What time will you be home from work today?” you asked sleepily, sitting up in your nest of blankets, having woken up to find that he was already in the process of pulling his socks on, careful not to wake you.

“I don’t know, Love, you know how crazy things have been with this update, I might be late again,” he said absently, looking around for his glasses. “Where the fuck did I put them?”

He runs a hand through his hair frustratedly, leg bouncing in agitation. It made your heart ache slightly in your chest, disappointment, guilt, and worry mixing confusedly in your stomach.

You loved Sunghoon, more than almost anything else in your life, he was the man you’d chosen as your partner, who you’d decided to stand by through thick and thin. But ever since the game company he worked for had started work on a new update, you’d been seeing less and less of him. Always coming home late, tired and stressed, mind wandering and absent even when he was sitting right in front of you. You understood, you really did. Between the two of you he was the one with the bigger income, the burden of taking care of you, of making sure that the two of you could build a future together, was on his shoulders. And it was a responsibility that he did not take lightly.

But still.

In moments like that, where you slid off your bed to fetch his glasses off the nightstand–blanket wrapped securely round your shoulders to fend off the cold that permeated your apartment since the heating had started to malfunction–moving round the bed to stand in front of him… you couldn’t help but feel like he was breaking your heart. Just a little.

It was in the way he only met your eyes briefly when he took them from you before standing and gathering the rest of his things, sighing in what could’ve been frustration or relief, it was hard to tell.

It was the way he didn’t stop the flow of movement steadily taking him away from you and towards the office till you called his name twice, stopping in his tracks and fixing you with a look that, though probably unintentional, made you want to bury yourself under your mountain of plushies and hide.

“I’m going to be late, (y/n), what is it?”

You winced. You couldn’t help it. Unaccustomed to hearing him say your name with so little emotion. “Just… could you come back on time tonight?” your voice is barely more than a whisper, tapering off into silence the longer you force your eyes to meet his. “Unless you can’t of course! I’m not saying you have to do anything, I understand that you’re busy and you can’t really dictate when or how things get done but just that it would be nice if you could be home on time tonight since-”

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll make it home on time tonight.”

His voice was softer than it had been a moment ago, giving you the courage you needed to meet his eyes. They were still heavy with worry, brows drawn together to dig a permanent crease into the middle of his forehead, but they weren’t quite as cold or distant. He was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time in what felt like forever.

It wasn’t much, you knew that. But it was still enough to ease the knot building in your throat. Enough to bring a small smile to your face as you nodded. “Mnm! Okay, I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Mnm, alright,” he said, a small, slightly strained smile coming to rest on his own lips.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

The apartment was almost completely dark when the lock to the front door chimed, alerting the darkness that someone had arrived. The figure that stepped through was slumped over, backpack sliding off one shoulder with his jacket, shoes abandoned haphazardly.

It took a moment for Sunghoon’s mind to catch up to his body, for it to fully sink into his bones that he was home. That he was home and it was nearly 11 pm. Home and the tv and kitchen light were both on, white letters onscreen asking the room if anyone was still watching Netflix.

Something in the kitchen caught his eye, a handmade vase his sister had given you for your birthday set out on the kitchen island, filled to the brim with pink, white, and purple flowers he did not recognise.

’Oh’

It was his birthday.

That’s why you’d asked him to come home on time.

Sunghoon groaned, face twisting with what could only be described as pain as he quickly set his bag down by the front door and made his way to your shared bedroom. You were usually asleep by this time, unable to pull all-nighters the way you used to back when you were in high school, always out like a light by no later than 10:30 every night.

’But she still stays up every night waiting for you,’ a voice in his head hisses.

’I know… fuck I know she does,’ his own voice replies, panic setting in when he finds your room empty, the bed neatly made, not even a dent to show that you’d been laying in it while working on your laptop during the day.

’She’s not here… are you surprised? How long did you expect her to wait?’ the voice whispers, a chill cascading down his spine.

The panic sets in with more vigor, wrapping round his throat and sending his tired mind into overdrive as he checks the bathroom, your home office, and finally the dark living room. Fear telling him that this was it.

He’d really gone and done it now.

He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew the moment you stood in the middle of your bedroom floor instead of closing the distance between you and wrapping your arms around his waist, choosing instead to clutch your favorite duvet like a lifeline, wincing when you heard his voice, all because you wanted to ask him to come home… he knew right then that he’d been an absolute idiot.

He’d meant to come home early, to be there to make it up to you, to apologise properly, tell you that he’d take some time off as soon as the update was done and dusted.

But he didn’t. He let work sweep him up again. Drowning in error messages and buggy code till the sky outside his office windows was filled with the flickering lights of the city at night.

And now… now you weren’t there.

He’d left you alone.

He’d left you alone too long and you were gone.

You were gone.

You were gone and-

’Oh.’

There you were.

The relief when Sunghoon sees you–curled up on the couch, partially hidden by a small pile of blankets and stuffed animals–is immediate.

He doesn’t really register the way he sighs your name, shoulders relaxing, body melting into the floor the moment he’s in front of you, hand brushing a few messy strands of hair out of your face. The need to feel the warmth of your skin, to confirm that you really are there in front of him more an instinct than a conscious decision.

You mumble something in your sleep, tilting your face away from his cold fingertips, eyes fluttering open. “Hoon… hi baby… welcome home,” you say tiredly, shifting under your blankets in an attempt to pull yourself up.

Sunghoon feels his heart crack in his chest. Why were you smiling at him? You should've been angry. You should've pushed him away, demanded to know why he was back so late, why he'd been neglecting you in the first place.

“Baby? My love… why are you crying?” you ask, reaching for him through the haze of sleep still clinging to your limbs.

Choking back a sob, he leans closer, tucking his head under your chin and doing his best to wrap an arm around you from his place on the carpeted floor. “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, though the tears soaking into your sternum say otherwise, “just missed you…”

Your vision blurs at his words, a thread of steadily building tension and worry that had been constricting your heart for the past few weeks snapping. “Oh…” your voice shakes slightly, lungs shuddering as your breaths begin to feel lighter, “I’m right here you goose, what’re you crying for?”

“Who says I’m crying,” he says, hoarse with tears.

“Right right,” you laugh despite the dampness now soaking through your own cheeks, “because my baby never cries, huh?”

“Never,” he sniffles, nuzzling closer.

You stay like that for a while, eventually urging him to sit more comfortably on the couch, allowing you to settle yourself on his lap, his arms still wrapped firmly round your waist, hands occasionally kneading whatever part of you he was in contact with as if he needed to assure himself that you were there, solid and real.

He waits until he feels your heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm, trying his best to calm down so his own can match yours, beat for beat. The way it–in his opinion–should.

But it wouldn’t, there were words lodged in his throat, and every time he tried to get them out he felt that same panic wash over him, sending his heart into a frenzy.

You could feel like beating against your cheek, could sense that there was something he wasn’t saying from the way his grip on you would tighten almost imperceptibly, stiffening as if he was bracing himself for something. A part of you wanted to push him, prompt him and ask what was going through his head, why you’d woken up to the sight of him crying in the dim light of your living room. And you would’ve if he hadn’t beat you to it.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

“What do you mean? For being late? I know you can’t help it, Hoon, it’s not some-”

“No! I mean yes, I’m sorry for being late tonight but… I mean… I mean for everything… for not being… here, with you, like this… as often as I should be, I’m sorry,” he says, the hands at your sides nervously fidgeting with the fabric at your hips, nervously looking between your face and the static tv screen behind you.

Sunghoon had never been good with words. You’d learned early on in your relationship that he preferred to show how he felt through his actions. Yet here he was, fumbling through an apology because… because…

“My love… did you think I’d left?” you ask, gently cupping his face with one hand, urging him to look at you.

Puffy red eyes still wet with tears, messy unkempt hair from running his hands through it all day, tired and probably as emotionally spent as you’d ever seen him and still… still he was the most beautiful person in the world to you. He nodded, hiding his face in your chest again, hands stilling.

“Well,” you sigh, resting your chin on top of his head and running a hand through the hair at the back of his head, combing through it in a way he swears only you can, “at least you know you’ve got things you need to make up for…”

“I know… I forgot for a while… but I know…”

“That’s okay then,” you breathe, leaning back to kiss his forehead. “But Sunghoon… baby… darling… the love of my life… my little pookie bear… “ you both giggle a little at the pet names, “You know I’d never leave you over something like this right? I was sad, and hurt, and I still expect you to make it up to me by never doing this again but… I still love you, it only hurts because I love you… I’m not going anywhere.”

Sunghoon pauses for a moment, letting your words sink in. You think that when he looks up, lips slightly parted, it’s to say something in response, but you really should’ve known better.

Slowly, giving you enough time to pull away should you choose to, his breath mingling with yours before he steals it away with a soft, lingering kiss. Neither of you is in any rush to take things further.

It feels like a small eternity before he pulls away, like time stills for you both, but then he’s pressing his lips to your jaw, butterfly kisses tickling you down to your pulse point, making you giggle so you almost miss it when he says, “I love you too… so much…”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

It isn’t until the next day when you’re shuffling into your home office dressed in one of his oversized jerseys, complaining about a meeting that he remembers the flowers he’d seen on the kitchen island.

Pulling out his phone, he makes good use of his detective skills (and google lens), remembering all the times you’d spoken to him about the language of flowers, and the meanings behind certain blooms.

He wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or cry once he’d figured it out, opting to dig through the cabinets for a pack of waffle mix to fix you some breakfast instead. He had a lot of apologies to make…

Baby’s Breath: pure everlasting love

Pink Camellias: longing for you

Forget-me-nots: true love memories, do not forget me

#kiki writes things ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡#sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x you #fluff #enhypen fluff #angst #enhypen angst #cw: swearing #cw: neglect

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futurewdclandonorris · 3 months

Text

Man or Machine | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: after you leave your date unsatisfied, you return to your apartment thinking you'll once again have to take care of yourself on your own when your roommate catches you and offers you a better solution, himself

Warnings: smut

Word count: 8.4k

The flickering street lights cast long shadows as you trudged up the stairs to your apartment, the echo of your footsteps punctuated by the sigh of defeat escaping your lips. The date hadn't gone as well as you’d hoped. In fact, it had been a complete disaster.

The guy was handsome enough, but once you met in person, there had been no chemistry between you. And when it came down to it, the sex was mediocre at best. You cringed at yourself as you unlocked your apartment door and stepped inside, feeling a sense of frustration and self pity.

“You’re back early,” your roommate munched from the couch.

You had been looking forward to your date for weeks, imagining all the ways how it would be different from your usual nights spent pleasuring yourself. But as always, reality has fallen short of your expectations.

“Am I?” you sighed and ran a hand through your messy hair. Maybe you were just doomed to a life of unsatisfying hookups and lonely nights. Maybe you were just bad at this whole dating thing.

“How was the date?” he asked as if he didn’t even hear your previous input, putting chips in his mouth.

“Good.” You glanced at him from the hallway, sprawled on the couch of your shared living room with a bag of chips resting casually on his belly.

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows like that was brand new information.

You kicked off your shoes and made your way past him. “So good I couldn’t wait to come home and tell you all about it,” you replied sarcastically, mustering a half-hearted grin as you made your way to the kitchen. The cool light from the refrigerator washed over you as you rummaged through its contents, searching for something to numb the ache of your failed evening.

“Well,” he began with a mouthful. “At least you’re consistent.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Lando.” You rolled your eyes as you closed the fridge after not finding anything that caught your interest.

"Hey, don't mention it," Lando said, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn't help but smile at his attempt to cheer you up, even if it fell short of its mark.

His nonchalant demeanor irked you, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging inside of you, only intensifying the need for release you were so yearning for. A twinge of jealousy couldn't be avoided at his laid-back attitude towards life. As if everything were so simple for him, as if he had never experienced the bitter taste of disappointment that now lingered in your mouth.

“Any plans for the rest of the evening?”

“No, I think I’m just going to shower and head to bed.” Not.

You needed to do something about yourself, and you needed to do it fast. Lando only shrugged, his attention already back on the television as you retreated to your room.

And once again, you stood in your bedroom, alone and preparing to take matters into your own hands. You stripped down from your outfit and changed into a baggy t-shirt that almost reached your knees. You turned to your dresser and opened the first drawer, reaching for the familiar object hidden amongst your clothes. The soft hum of the vibrator greeted you as you pulled it out, its sleek surface cool against your skin. You took a deep breath in, getting ready to put it into use when the door of your room suddenly swung open.

“Hey, I’m making a little something for me and I saw you checking the fridge—Is everything alright?” Lando questioned when he saw you spin around so quickly that you knocked some of your belongings off the dresser while doing so, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah!” your voice unintentionally came out a bit higher pitched than intended, your right hand holding the toy firmly behind your back. “You just startled me, that’s all.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your flustered response. His gaze flickered from your flushed face to the items strewn across the floor. “Uhm, okay. As I was saying, I’m making a little snack for myself so I was wondering would you like some as well?”

“No, I’m fine,” you replied, gripping the vibrator so strongly as if you were trying to crush it and make it disappear. Food was the last thing on your mind, your desire for something far more urgent and primal consuming your every thought. You could see the curiosity in Lando’s eyes, a glint of suspicion dancing in their depths.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, taking in your disheveled appearance and the way you were trying to conceal something behind your back.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, taking a step into your room. His eyes flicked to the item still hidden behind your back and he arched an eyebrow. “What’s that behind your back?”

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of shame and panic rising within you. Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. How could you explain this to him? How could you possibly articulate the overwhelming need that drove you to seek solace in the buzzing vibrations of your trusty toy?

“Nothing!”

Lando’s eyes narrowed at you. “Nothing, huh?” he repeated, taking another step forward. Despite the cool hum of the vibrator still buzzing softly in your grip, you tried to muster up a convincing smile. But Lando wasn't buying it this time. He was always good at reading you, even when you didn't want to be read.

"I... It's nothing, Lando," you stammered, a blush creeping up your neck. "Just... personal stuff."

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he took another step closer, his gaze flicking to your hand that gripped the object tightly.

"Personal stuff, huh?" he repeated, his smirk growing into a full-fledged grin. His eyes held a mischievous glint that made your stomach twist with a combination of nerves and something else you couldn't quite place. You were so sure he was going to tease you mercilessly, to make you feel even more embarrassed and exposed than you already did.

“Come on, just show me,” he said gently, his voice turning soft and understanding. Reluctantly, you slowly brought your hand out from behind your back, revealing the sleek toy that had been your source of comfort and release for so many lonely nights.

Lando's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mixture of shock and amusement flashing across his features. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence hanging heavy in the air as you braced yourself for his reaction.

"Oh wow, I thought I'd seen everything. So that’s how you spend your free evening," he chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

You couldn't help but feel a surge of embarrassment at the situation, standing there exposed with your secret pleasure in plain sight. Lando's reaction was not what you had expected; his laughter disarmed the tension that had been coiled tight within you. A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you felt the pressure on your shoulders start to lessen, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation.

“I-I... Yeah…” you stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent sentence to explain yourself. The vibrator still buzzed softly in your hand, a stark reminder of your failed attempts at finding satisfaction elsewhere.

“Want to… talk about it?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond to Lando’s unexpected offer. Opening up about your intimate struggles was the last thing you had planned for that night, especially to your roommate, who you had never discussed such personal matters with before. But something in the way he looked at you made you reconsider.

“I mean, it just wasn’t satisfactory… enough.” you confessed.

“Wait, did he even make you cum?” he blurted out, a look of shock and mock anger crossing his face.

His boldness was so amusing, it made you laugh. “He did, once. But I wanted… more. But he couldn’t…” Your voice died out, leaving you at a loss for words to convey the odd combination of longing and disappointment you felt.

“God, I don’t know what’s worse: leaving your girl unsatisfied or not satisfying her enough. Even if he couldn’t fuck you there were still many ways he could’ve pleased you. But he didn’t, did he? And now you’re stuck doing it yourself.” Lando pointed out disapprovingly.

“It’s not the first time, honestly,” you wish you bit your tongue cause only when the words left your mouth, you realized the admittance didn't make the situation any better at all.

“No? How many times have you done this?”

“Too many too count,” you sighed.

“You want to tell me that every time you would return home you would go to your room and do… this?” Lando asked, gesturing towards the vibrator.

You nodded, feeling ashamed of your confirmation.

“Geez, what kind of guys were you going out with?”

“I guess just guys who didn't know how to make me feel good. They were all so focused on their own… pleasures that they didn't care if I was satisfied or not.” Your voice had a blend of sadness and frustration as you spoke.

“Evidently,” he remarked.

“Yes, so, if you don’t mind, would you kindly leave so I can finally get to it?” You held out the vibrator, your hand shaking slightly at the audacity of your request, and he looked at it thoughtfully.

“Are you serious?” he exclaimed, frowning a little.

“Uh, yeah?” You replied, feeling even more self-conscious.

“Wouldn’t you like something a little more… I don't know, sophisticated?” Lando offered with a smirk.

“What do you mean?” You asked, intrigued by his suggestion.

“I mean, why would you use toys when you have a fully capable man living with you?” His eyes darted from the vibrator clasped in your hand back to your gaze, and he nibbled on his bottom lip with a suggestive hint.

You blinked in surprise and confusion, struggling to process his words. Was he really suggesting you use him, instead of a toy, to satisfy your needs? It was a bold proposition, one that completely caught you off guard.

Lando must’ve seen the wheels spinning in your head because he quickly added, “I mean, if that’s what you really want, I’m willing to help.”

You felt a strange mix of shock, embarrassment, and fascination coursing through your veins. It was such an unexpected request that you honestly didn’t know how to react. On one hand, you were deeply humiliated by the idea of using Lando as a replacement for your vibrator, but on the other hand, there was a tantalizing appeal to the taboo nature of it. And even more so, the idea of having your most intimate needs met by someone you were close to, rather than a cold, unfeeling piece of plastic.

You found yourself looking deep into Lando's eyes, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the unspoken promise of pleasure behind it. For a moment, you thought of all the times you had used the vibrator alone, wishing there was someone to share the experience with. Maybe Lando could give you that.

"I, uh... I didn't think..." You trailed off, unsure of how to respond. The vibrator, now heavy in your hand, felt almost like a burden at that moment. “Uh, okay,” you said finally, the words barely escaping your lips. “Let’s see if you can do better than this.” you shook the toy in front of him.

Lando grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes as he stepped closer to you. “Trust me, I can do much better than that,” he replied confidently, towering over you.

You felt an unexpected surge of lust at his challenge, your heart pounding in anticipation. He was right, there was no comparison between a machine and a living, breathing human being. All the times you had used the vibrator, you had longed for the warmth and intimacy of a real connection. And now, here was Lando, offering himself to you without any reservations.

“Show me what you’ve got then,” you breathed, raising your eyes to meet his.

Lando lifted his hand and dragged his thumb over your mouth. Your lips fell agape following his movement, a silent gasp caught in your throat. His fingers moved down your neck to your chest, then lower and up again, tracing the delicate contours of your skin. Not being able to help yourself, you moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut as he continued his tour.

It was pathetic, in a way. He barely touched you and you were turning into a puddle underneath him. You couldn’t believe how your body was reacting to his simple touch, how he could make you feel with so little effort.

He got a hold of the side of your face, his firm grip pulling you towards him until there was no space between you. His eyes never left yours, gauging every minute response. Involuntarily, you raised your chin, impatient to close the remaining gap between your lips and his. Lando lowered his head just enough to have his lips hovering over yours, your gesture drawing a slight smirk from him, a devilish little smirk that made your heart skip a beat even more.

Then, with a gentle yet firm pressure, his lips met yours. It was like an explosion of senses, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. The warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the velvety texture of his facial hair, they all fused together to create an unmatched sensory experience.

He pulled away just when you were leaning in for more, making him chuckle. “You won’t need this anymore, darling.” he whispered over your lips, peeling the vibrator from your hand and putting it away.

Your now free hands reached for him and pulled him back in for another kiss, this time more urgently, more passionately, and his tongue pressed against your bottom lip, seeking entry. Your heart raced as you allowed it inside your mouth, tasting him, feeling him.

His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of you, igniting a fire in your every nerve ending. You found yourself shuddering, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Never in your wildest dreams had you thought that this could be possible with a man you lived with, one who you shared meals and chores with. But there he was, passionately kissing and caressing you with an intensity that left you breathless.

You felt his hands slide under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the indent of your navel and the swell of your hips. You arched into his touch, pulling him even closer by the hair, desperate for more and he met you with equal fervor.

His lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses that made you moan softly. “I promise to make this worth your while,” he murmured against your skin, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, drawing him closer, not doubting his promise as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting you thoroughly. Your pulse raced as he began pulling up your shirt, the tips of his fingers skimming over your sides, and you raised your arms for him to take it completely off. You were left only in your panties before him, watching as his eyes darkened as they took in the sight of your naked body, his gaze lingering on the curves and contours of your breasts.

He didn’t say anything, but snaked an arm around your waist and picked you up with ease with his other. Your legs locked around him and he carried you to your bed where he gently laid you down on the soft sheets, his mouth never leaving yours. You were both in a state of heightened arousal, your bodies screaming for each other.

He pulled back slightly, taking in your flushed face and throbbing lips, and a smirk tugged at his lips. Then, his hands began their journey once again and he dipped his head to your neck, nibbling and sucking gently before moving to your chest, sucking and biting your nipples. You moaned as his fingers teased your sensitive buds, his tongue tracing the outline, sending shocks of pleasure one after another.

Your breath hitched as he moved lower, kissing and licking his way down your stomach, his hands sliding down your sides to the waistband of your panties. He tugged at them gently and you lifted your hips to help him take them off, but he pushed you back down again, keeping you there. You reached down to remove them yourself, but Lando stopped you with a firm grip on your hand. You looked up into his eyes, wondering what was going through his mind. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Patience, my dear. I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of this.” His words made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel dampness seeping into your panties. “And with me, you can cum as many times as you want.”

You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement as his hands traced the delicate line of your inner thigh, and you shivered under his touch. With each small movement he was building anticipation, the delay only making you crave his touch more.

He was back on giving his attention to your tits, feeling their weight, squeezing them gently and kissing them all over. You gasped as his teeth scraped lightly over your nipples, feeling your pussy clenching in response. Lando then moved back up, his eyes never leaving yours as he kissed his way up your body, stopping just to lightly bite and suck your collarbone. You arched your back, moaning hard, wanting his lips to be everywhere at once.

“Fuck, Lando, please…” you gasped, your breath short.

He smiled wickedly, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. “Just wait, baby. I’m going to give you everything you want, fulfill your every fantasy and desire.”

His tongue darted out to lick your nipples, one by one, your breath stopping in your throat as he did so. He attached his lips to one of your erect nipples, gently biting it while trailing his fingers between your legs. You trembled in his grip, your core aching for his touch, your desire growing more intense with each passing moment.

You bucked your hips against him, desperate for him to finally touch you where you need him the most. Your nipple popped out of his mouth with a soft pop and he moved to the other, repeating the process. Your breaths came out ragged and short, your body screaming for release. Finally, he broke away, but only to position himself better above you.

“Open wide,” he instructed, tapping your lips with his two fingers, waiting to insert them in. “Suck, make them nice and wet for you.”

You opened your mouth, releasing a shallow gasp as his fingers gently entered your sensitive wetness. The pressure and the warmth of his fingers thrilled your whole body as he probed deeper, smoothly gliding in and out of your entrance. You began to suck on his fingers, mimicking the rhythm of his strokes.

He pulled away, bringing his fingers in front of your face. “Good fucking girl,” he praised and filled your mouth with the fingers of his other hand. “You’re gonna have the time of your life.”

He lowered himself so he was right face to face with your tits and began rolling your nipples in between his now moist fingers. The sensation was dizzying, and your entire body shook as he continued to tease you, knowing that he had the power to unleash an orgasmic storm. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins as he pulled them up and then released, watching your breasts jiggle as they fell. Your breath was shallow and ragged with every pinch and twist, and you felt as if you were on the edge of a cliff, about to jump into the abyss of pleasure.

“Fuck, Lando, I could cum,” you squirmed, your back arching into him.

He chuckled deeply, a wicked grin on his face. “Oh, baby, you haven’t even begun to feel my touch yet.”

His rubs on your nipples intensified as if he was really trying to see if he could make you cum from that alone. You moaned and writhed beneath him, your body aching for more. He knew what he was doing to you and he was enjoying every moment of it.

Slowly, he began to trail his fingers down your body, re-familiarizing himself with every curve and dip, his lips following the path of his hands. He paused at the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing over your panties, causing you to gasp and shudder.

Suddenly, he backed away and sat against the headboard. “Come here,” he patted the space between his legs and you crawled to him. “Turn around, rest your back against me, that’s it,” he instructed, helping you adjust your position. You could feel his warmth against your back, his erection pressing against your lower back. He rubbed your shoulders for a bit before his hands made their descent once again, his thumbs brushing past your nipples and down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist.

He tugged on your hips, urging you to slide down his crotch. He settled his hands on your lower back, pressing you against him, allowing you to feel the full length of him. You couldn’t help but moan, feeling his hardness, your body responding to his commanding presence.

“Spread your legs for me,” he ordered, and you did so, your heart racing at his command. He began to rub your inner thighs, his fingers tracing the line of your panties. You felt his breath on the back of your neck, his hot breath making you shiver slightly.

“You’re so wet, so receptive,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “I want to feel you come apart.”

Your hips responded under his touch, arching up, your need for him growing more intense with every second. With one hand, he held you down, pinning you against him as his other hand continued to explore your most intimate parts. His fingers danced across the fabric of your panties, teasing you mercilessly. He kept his promise of a slow, sensual build-up, but your body was hungry for him, eager to be consumed by the passion he had promised.

"Please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, "take them off, touch me."

Your hips bucked again, unconsciously grinding against his hand. Lando's eyes turned a darker shade of green following your reaction, and you could see the hunger in his gaze. He pressed his digits over your clothed pussy, this time pressing harder, rubbing your wet flesh through the delicate fabric. Your juices flowed freely, his hand slick with your arousal.

Your back arched up, your head thrown back on his shoulder, your eyes closed tightly, lost in the sensations that were flooding your body. You were on the verge of the most intense climax of your life, and you knew it.

He gently pushed your panties to the side, exposing your glistening, swollen folds. His fingers trailed along your skin, sending sensational shocks through you. His eyes took in every detail, every curve and color. You were so beautiful, and his heart pounded harder at the sight. He reached up to kiss you, his lips demanding, possessive, yet tender. Your hands clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

And then finally, finally, he tapped your clit lightly with his fingertips causing your entire body to jolt in response. He knew exactly what he was doing, it was maddening. Your muscles tightened, your breath hitched and you knew this was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when he would take you to the edge of ecstasy and push you over.

“Lando,” you moaned his name softly, your voice trembling with longing. “Oh, please.”

“Almost there.” With one hand, he held you in place, the other began to circle your clit, gently at first, then mounting in pressure as your breath grew shallower and hips moved against him.

He cupped your pussy in his hands, spread wide open for him. The sight was a feast for his eyes, and the feel of you, wet and open and squirming under his touch, sent a deeper lust coursing through him. His finger found your entrance, sliding through your juices, coating itself completely. Lando's finger moved in and out of you, slow and steady, syncing with the rhythm of his thumb circling your clit.

He watched as his digit disappeared into your body, connecting with the very core of your need. You moaned into his neck, holding onto the back of it, your body trembling with eagerness, your mind consumed by the erotic scene unfolding before you. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously, preparing your body for his invasion, his thumb still working in time with his fingers.

You felt like you were melting into him, the pleasure radiating from your center, spreading throughout your entire body. Your moans became louder, more urgent, your hips bucking against his hand. Lando's eyes were locked on your face, watching your expression change from pleasure to bliss to raw, unbridled lust. You were gasping for breath, your body writhing under his skilled hands. It was numerous times better than any night you have spent alone with a vibrator between your legs.

He knew the moment was coming, he could feel it in the way your muscles tensed, the way your juices flowed freely, the way your moans grew louder and more intense. Your whole body was begging for release, and he was more than willing to give it to you.

With a gentleness that belied the intensity of the situation, he slid his fingers inside you, pushing past your tight entrance and finding that sweet spot that made you gasp with pleasure. You arched your back, your head thrashing on his shoulder, your nails digging into the back of his neck as he began to piston his fingers in and out of you, finding the perfect rhythm to drive you over the edge.

With a final thrust of his fingers, he plunged them deep into your core, finding that special place that made you scream in delight. Your entire body shook, convulsing with the force of your climax. You arched your back, your cries echoing through the room, as your pleasure coursed through you like an electric current.

Lando watched in awe as you came apart in his arms, the sight of your body, so beautiful and vulnerable in that moment, making his own desire for you burn even hotter.

"That's it, baby,” he continued to stroke your clit, milking every last drop of pleasure from you, until you were spent, your body limp and panting against him. “So beautiful, so perfect.”

Finally, he eased his fingers out of your heated core, the wetness glistening on his fingers. He brought them to your mouth, smearing the juices all over your lips and chin, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

"Taste yourself, baby. You're a goddess." You opened your mouth hesitantly, allowing his fingers to press against your tongue, tasting the sweet nectar of your own neediness. As you did so, Lando's lips found yours, his tongue slowly sliding past your lips to mingle with the taste of your climax.

“I’m going to taste you first hand,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

With that, he gently lowered you onto the bed, spreading your legs wider as he positioned himself between them. Before he dove in, he took off your panties and then proceeded to take off his shirt as well, revealing his toned chest and chiseled abs, sending a new wave of want through you. Your eyes followed his every move, every flex of his muscles as he moved closer, your heart pounding in excitement of what was about to come.

He bent your legs into knees and pushed them back, having your pussy on full display for him. He looked at you while pressing on your legs, his eyes burning with craving and lust, and you could see that he was about to devour you.

Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of your glistening cunt, leaking wet and pulsing for him. He leaned forward, kissing the back of your thighs softly, trailing his lips upward until he reached your inner thighs. Your breath hitched as he blew gently on your damp skin, sending shivers through you.

With a final deep breath, Lando extended his tongue just long enough to lightly flick your clit, sending electric shocks throughout your body. You arched your back, your hips lifting off the bed in response, your moans filling the room. His tongue teased your sensitive bud, drawing circles around it, then darting in and out of your folds in a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. Your hips pushed against him, urging him to continue, to give you more of what you craved. Lando obliged, his tongue becoming more insistent, flicking and teasing your sensitive flesh.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, your hands clawing at the sheets beneath you as his tongue continued to work its magic.

His tongue found your entrance, sliding in and out, mimicking the rhythm of his fingers earlier, except this time, it was slower, more sensual, while the tip of his nose perfectly aligned with your clit, stimulating it with every motion. You whimpered, your hands gripping his hair almost painfully as you tried to pull him closer.

His fingers joined in, sinking into your wetness with ease, curling inside you in a way that felt like home. He moved in tandem with his tongue, creating a symphony of pleasure that left you breathless and writhing beneath him.

Lando's eyes were locked on your face, devouring every expression that crossed it. He could see the raw hunger in your eyes, and it only fueled his wish to give you more. Your moans grew louder, more urgent, your hips bucking against his face as he continued to pleasure you. You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief.

“Want to finish yourself on my face on your own?” he slurped your juices, just teasing your entrance with his tongue. You cried out, your hands finding their way to his head, holding him to you as you started moving up and down his face.

“Fuck, baby, yes, use my face to get yourself off,” he muffled against you, encouraging your grinding motions. “Use me.”

He might’ve been the dominant one, but he was still there for your pleasure, for your enjoyment. He was there to submit to your every wish and request, to be used by you. And pleasure you he did, with his skilled tongue and passionate devotion. Each flick, each lap of his tongue sent your nerves on fire, your body shaking and pulsating with pleasure.

He reached up, grabbing your thighs, pulling you even closer to him, burying his face further into your pussy. The combination of his hot breath mixed with the taste of your arousal was intoxicating. You felt yourself growing closer to the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Your movements sped up, your hips grinding against his face, your nails digging into his scalp as you fought to keep yourself from falling over the edge. He could sense it, the moment when your body would explode in a gasm of pure pleasure, and he eagerly awaited it, his tongue never stopping its rhythmic dance with your sensitive nub.

Your body arched off the bed, your moans growing louder and more frenzied as your orgasm built to a crescendo. He continued to devour your pussy, his tongue never wavering, his nose pressed against your clit, his hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding your movements, urging you on.

And then, it happened. Your body shivered, your muscles tightened, and your voice filled the room in a scream of ecstasy. The vibrations shook Lando's face, his tongue never leaving your clit, as he reveled in the pleasure he had given you.

It was a glorious moment, Lando felt like he had reached the pinnacle of his seduction skills. He savored the taste of your arousal, still on his tongue, and smiled to himself as he watched you catch your breath, still panting on the bed.

“You taste amazing, baby,” he whispered, kissing your inner thighs gently. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

You couldn't help but blush as his words sent a shiver through you, your body still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm he had just brought you to. "You make me feel like a goddess," you managed to say, your voice still thick with aspiration.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Because you are."

Lando's eyes never left your face as he slowly stood up, your gaze locked on his toned body as he towered over you.

“Think you could take me now?” he reached down, offering you a hand to help you sit up.

“Fuck, yes,” you jumped to your knees, pawing at his pants with eager hands. “I’ve never wanted someone more in my life.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers, wanting to take them both down in one go, too impatient to have his cock spring out.

Lando laughed, shaking his head playfully. "Slow down, baby. This isn’t about me, but about you. It's about what you need, what you’re yearning for."

“But,” you started, your mouth turning into a pout. “I want to take you in my mouth.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, gently pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. It was impossible to look away as he stepped back to remove his bottoms, his erection springing free, standing tall in front of you. The sight so beautiful made you take a deep breath in, thick and hard, dripping with pre-cum. Your hands shook with fancy how he would feel in your palms as you waited for go-ahead to touch him.

Lando stepped closer, pushing his hips forward. “Think you could manage?” he asked with a sly smirk.

You didn't need another invitation. A grin spread across your face as you reached forward and wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, feeling the silky skin against your fingers. Lando groaned, his hips bucking slightly, but he stayed still, allowing you to savor the moment. You leaned in, your lips nearly touching the head of his cock, the salty taste of him making your mouth water. But you pulled back, teasing him, your eyes locked on his.

“You’re so fucking big,” you whispered, your voice trembling with lust.

Lando groaned again, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he reveled in your touch and your words. He reached down, gently grasping the back of your head, guiding your forehead to his hardness. "Go ahead, baby," he said, his voice low and rough with need. "Take what you want."

With a shiver of excitement, you lifted his cock upward and pressed your lips to the smooth skin of his shaft. You traced the length of him with your tongue, savoring the taste of him and then rested the tip on your tongue, feeling the weight of his cock, before closing your mouth over the head.

His breath hitched, his hands gripping your hair tightly as you began to suck him, your mouth moving in a rhythm that matched your earlier hand job. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, his precum mixing with your saliva, only making you want him more.

Lando’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back in pleasure as you continued to take him deep into your throat. His hips jerked at the sensation, and you knew that you held all of his hankering in your hands and mouth. You took him deeper, your tongue swirling around the velvety smooth head, tasting the saltiness that leaked from him. He moaned, his hands threading through your hair, holding you tightly against him as you continued to tease him with your mouth.

“Oh, god, yes,” he groaned, his voice just above a whisper. “You’re killing me, baby.”

You couldn’t help but smile around him, vibrations of your laugh tickling his sensitive skin. He filled your mouth, his taste overwhelming yet delicious. You moaned around him, feeling the muscles of his shaft flex beneath your tongue as you continued to take him deeper.

Lando’s hands gripped the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he began to thrust slowly, trying to find more pleasure. Your moans grew louder, more urgent, your throat working to accommodate his size. You reached out, one hand gripping his balls, the other reaching between your legs to rub your clit, letting out a low, guttural moan as your orgasm began to build.

Hearing your cries only fueled him more, and Lando began to thrust faster, harder. Your orgasm was upon you quickly, your body trembling and shaking with each thrust. You held on tight to his cock, your hand cupping and stroking his balls, the fingers on your clit rubbing in a frenzied pattern that sent you spiraling into bliss.

Lando's eyes didn't stop watching you, his expression a mixture of pleasure and hunger. He could feel the moment when you would explode, and he pushed you off his cock and onto your back, replacing your fingers with his.

“What did I tell you? No more making yourself cum on your own, baby, not unless I tell you to,” he growled, his eyes dark and intense. “Let me be the one to make you feel this good.”

He bent down, his tongue darting out to kiss and nibble at your neck, your collarbone, your earlobe, his fingers still rubbing your clit. You whimpered, your body arching off the bed, eager for more of his touch. He whispered into your ear, "I need to see you, baby. I need to watch you cum."

You opened your eyes, gazing into his as he continued to torture your clit with his digits. Lando's eyes never left yours, his lips twisting into a smirk as he watched you lose control. It was a glorious sight, your body shaking, your voice screeching in pure pleasure as you orgasm overwhelmed you.

"That's it," he urged, his fingers moving faster, matching the rhythm of his lips against your skin. "Cum for me, baby. Cum hard."

Your body tensed, your orgasm building to a crescendo. You screamed his name, your nails digging into his back as you exploded around his fingers. Lando watched, a satisfied grin on his face, as your body shuddered and convulsed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your orgasm began to subside, leaving you panting and breathless. You lay there, spent and writhing in the afterglow, your mind still swimming with the intensity of the moment.

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead, and whispered, "You look so beautiful right now,"

With a contented sigh, you pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, your tongues intertwining as your bodies continued to pant and tremble.

“Please, fuck me now,” you pleaded, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Lando's eyes sparkled with craving as he whispered against your lips, "Not yet, sweetheart. I want you to ride me, take control for once."

You bit your lip, a thrill of excitement running through you at the thought of being in charge at this moment. Lando helped you to your feet, guiding you to straddle him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached between your legs, positioning him at your entrance.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and filled with expectancy.

Your nod was almost imperceptible, your eyes locked onto his, and with a deep breath, you pushed forward. Lando's cock slid into you with such ease, and filled you completely. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to the sensation.

He grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. “You alright, baby?”

“Yeah,” you managed to murmur, the initial stretch leaving you a bit dizzy.

“Good,” he said, kissing your chest, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. “Whenever you’re ready, show me what you can do. Ride me.”

With a renewed sense of power and confidence, you began to move, rocking your hips in a slow steady rhythm. Lando watched you with admiration, his hands never leaving your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with each move. His teeth sank into your lower lip and you could feel his hot breath against your skin.

“You feel so amazing,” he whispered, his voice low and needy.

You moaned, riding him harder, your hips bucking in time with his thrusts. His hands slid up your spine, his fingers gripping your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. The taste of his tongue mixed with the saltiness of your sweat, making you moan even louder.

“Lando, you’re so deep,” you whined, your words punctuated by his thrusts.

“You can take it,” he reassured you, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling you closer, his hips bucking hard against you. Your breasts bounced, the nipples rubbing against his chest, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck, baby, so tight," he hissed, matching your rhythm. "Look at you, riding me so expertly," he praised, his eyes locked on your body. "You're so fucking beautiful."

You tossed your head back, your hair cascading down your back, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, your nails biting into the flesh as your orgasm built, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"Oh, god, yes," you whimpered, your hips bucking wildly, meeting his every thrust.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice ragged. “Fuck yourself onto my cock, make yourself cum, use me as your personal fucktoy,” he begged, his hands tightening around your hips.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his skin, the pleasure building and building, until finally you reached the peak, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave.

You screamed his name, your body arching off him, your muscles tensing and then releasing, your core clenching around his cock as you exploded in bliss. Lando watched, a look of pure satisfaction on his face, his eyes dark and hungry.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, thrusting harder as you cried out, your pussy pulsating around his cock. “Cum for me, let me feel you shake around me.”

You fell into his arms, your body limp and spent, as he continued to thrust inside you. With each thrust, his cock glided against your sensitive walls, sending shivers of delight across your whole being.

Your body was still trembling, your orgasm lingering in your veins, as Lando finally pulled out, his cock glistening with your juices.

He helped you to lie down on the bed, your legs spread wide, your pussy inviting him back in. Your eyes never left his as he positioned himself at your entrance once more, your breath catching, awaiting his entry.

“Ready to go again?” he asked, his voice low and sultry, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Yes,” you gasped, drunk on the high of your orgasm and eager for more.

With a slow and deliberate thrust, he slid back inside you, his cock fitting perfectly within your tight walls. You moaned loudly, your body adjusting to the sensation of being filled once again.

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good, baby," he whispered, his voice low and gruff.

He started to move inside you, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm. Your hands found their way to his back, clutching at his skin as you matched his pace, your bodies perfectly in sync.

Your eyes never left his, locked onto his as he looked deep into your soul. Why were you even going out looking for a good time when you had this next door?

"Fuck me, Lando," you pleaded, your voice ragged with need. “Harder.”

Lando grinned, his dark eyes gleaming. He picked up his pace, his hips pounding into you with a fierce intensity that sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your screams filled the room as he plowed into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep thrust.

With each surge, you could sense yourself drawing nearer to the brink, your body quivering with excitement. Lando's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as your bodies moved in perfect harmony.

"Fuck, yes," he growled, his voice hoarse with lust. "You feel so fucking good, baby. You're going to cum for me again already, aren’t you?”

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. "I'm so close."

“So fucking desperate and needy. I can tell no one knew how to handle this pussy before.” It was true, no one else had ever made you feel this way. Lando had tapped into something within you that no one else had ever reached.

You moaned, your hips bucking in time with his thrusts. The room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the wet slurping noise of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling with the force of your arousal.

"Harder, Lando," you begged, your eyes locked onto his as his hips pistoned into you.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his hips bucking hard against you. “And only getting tighter. Sit up, baby, watch as you cum on my cock.”

You followed his command, propping yourself on your elbows and watching as his cock slid in and out of you. Lando's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as his cock slammed into you with brutal force, your breasts bouncing wildly with every thrust.

“See what mess you’re making on my cock? You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” he taunted, his eyes never leaving your flushed face as you looked at the white ring around his cock. “You love getting fucked, don’t you?”

You moaned, head thrown back, eyes rolling in your head as you felt yourself being driven closer to the edge with every deep thrust. The sensations were overwhelming. Every time he hit your G-spot, an electrical charge shot through your body, making your whole being feel alive and on fire.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, your voice ragged and breathless.

Lando grinned. He picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster, his cock slamming into you with a furious intensity. You felt yourself being swept up in a tidal wave of pure ecstasy, every nerve ending singing with pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough with lust. “Let me feel your pussy milk my cock as you cum all over me.”

You screamed, your body arching and shaking as the most intense orgasm of your life washed over you. Your pussy clenched and released around his cock, squeezing him, as you collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air.

Lando watched, his eyes growing wider with every thrust, his body tensing as he felt your pussy pulsating around his cock.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he groaned, his hips bucking wildly, matching your rhythm. "I'm gonna cum too. Fuck, your pussy feels so good, so tight. I can't hold back any longer."

Your body shook with pleasure, your breaths shallow and rapid, as you felt his cock throbbing inside you. Lando's eyes locked onto yours, his face contorted with bliss as he thrust harder and faster, his orgasm building to an explosive climax.

"Oh, fuck!" he roared, his body convulsing as he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking every last drop.

You lay there, panting and sweaty, your body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, as Lando pulled out, his cock covered with your juices. He plopped down on the bed next to you, his chest visibly rising and falling.

“I hope… I managed… to do better… than that… toy,” Lando panted.

“You did so much better,” you breathed, affirming. “Fuck, Lando, that was incredible. I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

Lando grinned, his eyes shining with triumph. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Then you've been missing out, baby. That was just a taste of what you could have every night, if you wanted."

You laughed softly, snuggling into his embrace. "I'm not sure I could keep up with you."

"You'd be surprised," he said, his lips brushing against the top of your head. "But I'll be here, whenever you need me, you know, just a door knock away.”

You smiled, imagining all the nights you could’ve spent with Lando instead of wasting your time with random hookups that all ended the same.

You turned on your side and propped yourself up on your elbow. “Should I throw all my toys away now then?”

"Not necessarily," Lando chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. "I mean, they served their purpose, but maybe we could use those toys of yours next time you want to spice things up. Just imagine how much better they'll feel with me inside you."

His words went straight into your core and made you shiver. You imagined it too, the intensity of it all, his cock and those toys, all at once, filling you, stretching you, pleasuring you in ways you've never been before.

"I like the sound of that," you said, running your fingers lightly over his chest, trying to play it cool. "But I have to say, you inside me feels better than any toy I’ve ever had."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well then, I guess that makes me your favorite toy now, huh?"

“Maybe,” you purred, your hand trailing down his chest and drifting lower to his hips. "But I think I'd need to test out your battery life first."

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