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kiame-sama · 19 days

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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU

Warnings; Several yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, yandere behavior, monster au, fem reader, no one starts off knowing reader is fem so they/them pronouns used, deranged behavior, spiders, driders, centaurs, unicorns, Nemean lions, werewolves, selkies, minotaurs, genies, nagas, magic, threats, panic,

~~~~~~~~

Nothing made sense anymore.

None of what you saw could have possibly been real, and even if it was, where did that leave you? The area was not familiar and you had gone through one of those mirrors to get where you were. Hopefully those... things... wouldn't think to look for you where you decided to hide out until you got a plan together. This was all provided you could think of a plan despite everything going on around you.

When you had woken up inside a coffin, the panic had set in so quickly. Since the very second that coffin spilled you out on the marble floors to the odd creatures that greeted you with unhindered curiosity, you were afraid and lost. Even now as impossible things had taken place, a thought echoed in your head from what one of the creatures had said.

I thought Humans were extinct?

Certainly a few of those you saw around you looked human, but most were some kind of creature or abominable hybrid. None of it made sense because creatures like this couldn't possibly exist, right? If that was true, you were suffering some kind of psychotic break. But if it wasn't true, if you could actually trust your eyes to tell you the truth, then you had something completely new to deal with.

Exhaustion hit you hard enough that you couldn't help but cuddle close to your stone companion and shelter, seeking comfort in the cold statue.

~•§•~

Eyes slowly flickered open in the dark, searching with sleep-hazed confusion at the oddly cramped surroundings. Attempting to lift your hands only made more confusion race through your mind as some kind of lid stopped you from completing the motion. The fog of sleep that had hung so heavy in your mind was now replaced with sharp awareness and clarity, throwing you into a state of panic as you realized you were trapped.

The dark container you found yourself in had you thrashing and desperate for freedom from your newfound confines. Your kicking and thrashing- painful against the lid of your container- managed to actually knock the top loose and slightly ajar. That bit of light from outside was the only encouragement your knowledge deprived brain needed to know it was doing the right thing by struggling. What you didn't expect was the feeling of this human-sized container pitching forward to spill you out unceremoniously on the ground.

The cold surface beneath you felt even colder on your soft face, wondering just where you were and why all of your memories leading up to that moment were just a blur. You didn't have long to spend on your musings before an unusual voice reached your ears, closer to a baritone than a tenor but still a masculine sounding tone.

"Oh my, I thought we had all of the students accounted for. Could it be I miscounted?"

You pushed yourself up with your hands to try and face whoever was speaking, seeing an oddly feathered man with dark black hair walking towards you. He wore a mask- or perhaps he truly had a beak- that made him look like a rather large corvid walking towards you. Despite his humanoid features, something in the back of your mind told you that this man was not what he appeared at first glance. Even his bright yellow eyes that shined from beneath the black mask seemed inhuman as they studied you intently.

"You certainly don't seem like one of the sudents I selected. I'm fairly sure I would remember someone odd... like you..?"

The man stopped in his tracks, regarding you strangely as if he were actually looking at you now. He certainly wasn't recognizeable to you and you had no sense of familiarity upon seeing him. Something about you must have caught the man's attention as he cocked his head to the side, crouching next to you and observing you keenly. Something about the way he moved was so bird-like you wondered if he was pretending to be some character or if there were actually something inhuman about him.

"I don't often need to ask this question, and I am very curious now what your answer will be, but what are you?"

That was certainly an odd question. You thought the answer would have been obvious, but something about the whole situation made you feel like what you were going through wasn't normal.

"Human..? Isn't everyone?"

There was a long moment of silence and it was in this silence you decided to look around now that your poor face stopped hurting from your abrupt meeting with the ground. You were in the center of a large room where what seemed to be dozens of coffins with various sizes and shapes floated around you. The container you came from was also a coffin and you could see where you had actually damaged the smooth wood with your desperate attempt at freedom.

Beyond the floating coffins- as surreal as they were- you noticed that you were not the only two present. Many others were standing around you, all in the same black, purple, and gold robes. All looking at you with unguarded curiosity. It was as you looked at these unusually robed people that you began to realize none of them looked particularly human. The more you searched, the clearer it became that none of those standing around you seemed to be fully human.

One of those standing there was a heartbreakingly beautiful bird-man with smooth complexion and flawless makeup darkening his lovely purple eyes. His fair blond hair woven with long feathers. Behind him was a long train of peacock feathers in iridescent colors that seemed all the more colorful beneath the flicking candlelight. As he noticed you glance at him, he seemed to almost puff out his chest in pride and the feather train behind him ruffled ever so slightly.

There was what you could only describe as a some kind of horned horse-man standing not too far from the bird-man. He had fiery red hair that complimented his smokey blue eyes, a prominent golden horn sat in the middle of his forehead with two long strands of hair framing the protrusion. His horse-half had pure white fur, the tail of the horse sporting the same flaming hair the human-half had. The hooves on the horse half were that same sparkling golden that made the hybrid almost seem regal in a way.

Even beyond the two oddities you saw more and more inhuman features on the beings standing around you. There was a light murmur of conversation humming through the air and that was when you caught something unusual.

"I thought humans were extinct?"

You were brought back to attention by the man in front of you clapping his hands as he stood back to full height. He had an unsettling smile playing on his lips and he regarded you the same way one would regard a lost puppy sitting, shivering from fear and cold at their door.

"You actually are a human, aren't you? How amazing! To think, a human just appeared at my College after centuries of one not even being sighted! How thrilling. This certainly is an unusual situation, and it is my duty as Headmage to safeguard such an endangered creature. Worry not, little human, you are safe here. Aren't I just the kindest?"

You felt like you had been dropped in some wretched nightmare that made no sense despite how desperately you searched for it. There was no such thing as horned horse men, or crow men, or peacock men! None of this was possibly happening because these things just didn't exist where you were from. Maybe as a child you had believed such lies, but as an adult you couldn't comprehend these creatures possibly existing. It was just madness.

It was as you were pulling yourself too your feet that another voice spoke up, this one a touch deeper than that of the Crow man.

"Merveilleux~ to see such a mythical being up close like this... Their beauty is absolutely stunning in such a captivating and exotic way, très bien!"

You saw the man speaking and felt a little confused when he was taller than many of those standing around him. As others moved to look at him you saw just what it was that gave him such height above the rest. It looked as if someone had taken the top half of a man and attached it to the body of a spider about where the face would be. The spider body itself was compact with black markings along the abdomen and long, spindly legs that seemed more than double the length of the body. Two prominent fangs sat curled at the front of the man, slightly obscured by his robes hanging over them, but you could see the faint sheen of venom on the pointed surface of the far too-large mandibles.

Something about seeing the handsome face and shining green eyes of the blond man paired with the monstrous spider-body that he was attached to made the world seem to spin and pitch beneath you. Though you had just managed to get to your feet you certainly didn't feel steady on them, but as the crow man reached out to steady you, you did the only thing you could think of and bolted. Your sudden flight from the situation made several others startle, and in the confusion you darted for what looked like an exit or portal out.

It had not been what you hoped it to be as you found yourself standing before a dark castle that seemed all the more intimidating compared to the monster filled room you just fled. Still, you could try to find somewhere in the castle to lay low, maybe even out on one of the balconies next to the many Gargoyles that overlooked the dour building. There had to be somewhere out of place enough for you to hide- or so you hoped- from the hybrid monsters that so happily decided to keep you despite not knowing a thing about you.

The slow wandering of halls with no opposition put you on edge, wondering if you just got lucky or if you hadn't seen anyone for a reason. Even as your footsteps quietly echoed in the dark halls, you remained vigilant in your quest to find somewhere out of the way.

Eventually that quest for somewhere safe led you to one of the many rooftops of the building. Your salvation came in the form of a recessed alcove that went further back than it appeared, facing away from the front of the castle. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you sheltered from the rather cold wind and make you feel concealed even among the rooftop.

With Gargoyles as your company and adrenaline quickly fading, you found yourself exhausted and in need of a rest. Despite how fast you seemed to have stumbled upon your hiding place, you could see it had actually been quite a distance you must have run. The portal far away on the other side of the enormous drawbridge that let you into the castle. Your energy was sapped and you were more than confused, but you couldn't fight the insistent pull of sleep on your frazzled mind forever.

~•§•~

The old crow Fae was still reeling from the absolute shock he had just gone through, but most would likely be feeling the same were they in his shoes. It simply was next to impossible, but an actual human was roaming the halls of Night Raven College. He himself had last seen a human more than half a millennia ago and they had since been declared extinct for several centuries. Seeing such a mythical being in the Hall of Mirrors was certainly unexpected and curious.

At first he believed they were a Selkie who had lost their fur, but the absolute lack of magic from them told him all he needed to know. Humans were the only non-magic species that had reached sentience in Twisted Wonderland, but this left them at a disadvantage as all other sentient species had magic and quickly out competed them. Some of the Naga and other beastman tribes even took to eating humans as a delicacy before they were declared extinct. Now Crowley had what was very possibly the first recorded human in centuries somewhere lost in his college.

The grants he could get to care for the human alone justified finding them and keeping them at Night Raven despite the fact they were not actually a student or member of the college. Even beyond just the money to keep such a rare specimen safe, he was going to get to see their magicless qualities first hand. It was always assumed that humans had some kind of innate abilities to make up for the fact that they didn't have magic. Their affable nature made them great at keeping the peace between strong personalities and powerful magic users. Though humans were technically at the bottom of the food chain as far as sentient species were concerned, Crowley could keep this one creature safe at Night Raven College.

All he needed to do now was find the wayward human and get them to settle down. Of course, there was still the question for where the human could possibly stay that would ensure their safety.

~•§•~

The dark haired prince walked through the somber halls of Diasomnia. Emerald eyes taking note of the ever familiar surroundings that made up his temporary home. The dour prince was looking to visit his beloved Gargoyles and figured now was as good a time as any. He had not been invited to the ceremony after all and he was not so rude as to show up without invitation and no good reason. Besides, it had been a while since he last visited his beloved statues.

As he made his usual rounds based on the age of the statue, the horned royal paused when greeted with an unfamiliar sight. Beneath one of the Gargoyles was someone soft and delicate looking. They were clearly not made of the same stone as the statues, but by all appearances the Gargoyles had borne a child of flesh and not stone. Perhaps Lilia would know where this odd little creature came from.

The prince was gentle removing the soft (s/c) being from beneath the statue, taking care to not wake the warm creature. His obsidian wings flared with contentment as he managed to extract the oddly delicate humanoid. Outwardly appearing, they almost seemed to be a selkie without fur, but their scent said otherwise. They were much softer than a siren or banshee which often had very taut skin. With renewed purpose, the thorn prince carried his new discovery to his own room, tucking the little being into his blankets. He would find somewhere else for the odd creature to stay after he conversed with Lilia. For now, he could leave the fragile being in the safety of his nest until he figured out what they were.

Perhaps he would crash the ceremony after all. Even if he wasn't invited, this was a good reason.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere twst #yandere monster #monster au #twst monster au #Humans are Extinct TWST AU

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nymphea0 · 3 months

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Until Death My love

Warning: violence, gore, mentions of guns and cigarettes

Yandere Husband x Wife Reader

Story Part 2 : Until Death My Love

Story Part 3 : Until Death My Love

Story Part 4 : Until Death My Love

'The weather is cloudy'

'The sound of water droplets dropping into the ground'

'Crash' 'Crash'

A luxurious house with 19's style complementary ornaments gives the house an expensive and elegant feel.

A female servant whose clothes were stained with blood,could only cry uncontrollably as she knelt down.

'Bhug'

"Arggg I'm sorry sir, im so-"

'Bhug'

The woman could only cry and lament her very sad fate.

She didn't know that her pity and kindness ended up making her a punching bag for his master.

" Does your apologize, can return my wife?!"

The smell of nicotine and blood mixed in the air as smoke rose from the hands of a tall man wearing a neat suit and his perfect face was splashed with blood.

"Im sorry sir i never go-"

'Bang'

"You bitch, the only one thing you can do is just to apologize apologize and apologize?!"

The man's baritone voice was full of unmatched emotion and anger, as he mercilessly fired 3 shots at once, aiming at the female servant who was lying stiff in a pool of blood on the obsidian colored marble floor.

"What are you waiting for?! Get this trash out of my sight!"

Those lightning leather shoes that looked very expensive only became more visible when the light reflected on them.

The man, Alexandrovic Reigent, a wealthy businessman, with a million secrets as the ruler of the underworld, has just lost his wife. His fragile and weak little wife, has left him.!

"My dear wife, run as far as possible, hide smartly "

"But once I catch you, don't expect my mercy, my sweet wife."

Standing in front of a French-style window, the rain is a silent witness to the man's sadness and anger, with thunder booming as a symbol of his anger which seems to be supported by nature.

"My wife, oh my wife, let's play as you wish~".

Psychotic laughter could be heard in the room which had a large French window combined with the sound of booming thunder, only adding to the sinister and sympathetic impression that servants gave their mistresses so that they would never be caught by their masters.

"Run as far as possible, my wife, until death do you part, I will never let you go."

* source image: https://id.pinterest.com/pin/19703317113126989#imgViewer

@snowflakes666

#yandere x reader #Yandere #yandere x darling #yandere male #yandere oc #possesive #obsessed #Nevaerah

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ask-the-pioneer · 4 months

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"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

#rain world #rain world oc #rain world au #rw pioneer #rw no significant harassment #rw nsh #rw hunter #slugcat #slugpup #rw iterator #artificer's pups #ask blog #GATHER 'ROUND FOR A BEDTIME STORY #au lore #im going to crawl into a hole now and hibernate for a couple of days

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leclerckiss · 4 months

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prince of monaco ౨ৎ

notes: charles leclerc x reader, est. relationship, suggestive content, alcohol, insinuation of nudity (bathing) but no explicit details or sexual activity.

a/n: i wrote this at 11pm & it's a little ridiculous but this is also me projecting my manifestations for him to win his home grand prix this weekend.

The sweet aroma of your Miss Dior: Eau de Parfum in damask rose and incense against pink peonies, clean linen sheets mussed about the inviting embrace of the bed, café au lait from a drained mug on the nightstand beside sweet-smelling lilies, and white, lace stockings abandoned and draped over the velvet loveseat.

Charles' claim of 1st at the Monaco Grand Prix was most blessing, and the perfect excuse for a long night of a plentiful of Moët & Chandon champagne, honorary chants, and celebratory reverie: announcing him the 'prince' of his beloved home, a victory he has been yearning for, since forever.

You had remained with him through the week, watching and admiring through every practice session from your usual seat, enjoying luncheon together and laughing over the usual lovey-dovey or noncommittal subjects as a means to distract him from his nerves before qualifying – the kind of thing he doesn't admit to but you know is only human – and your never-leaving gaze throughout the Grand Prix itself.

Until you got to watch from below with love hearts in your eyes when he stood on that podium, in his true and most divine stature whilst the crowds called for him and the Monégasque anthem resonated like the music of the heavens.

Now, it is quiet in the apartment you both call home, all minimalist but comfortable interior in a palette of white, créme, beige and hints of colour against the décor that define it as yours: the polished trophies before the white-varnished piano, heavy and velvet curtains stirring lazily about closed balconies of their rocaille-esque motifs, the abandoned sweater forgotten on the sofa, your rose crocheting yarn on the coffee table beside a copy of last month's Vogue.

Peaceful and content, stood before the ornate mirror in the en-suite of polished marble and quiet luxury, humming some gentle and absent tune to yourself as you comb your hair – dressed down to the comfortable, white gossamer silk of your négligée – whilst the only tune that resounds being the hushed television down the hall.

It is only a minute later that you are interrupted from your daydreaming by the sound of the mahogany front door as it draws open and closed. The familiar clink of keys set down on the oak furniture in the foyer, shuffled footfalls a little less balanced than usual, quickly silenced against the sound of a familiar voice like melting caramel on the subtle, slurring song of inebriation.

"Chérie?"

Hair comb set down on the neat counter beside the porcelain embellished basin, you absently gnaw at your lower-lip whilst silent feet wander the parquestry of the flooring through the flat in your approach to the source of your boyfriend's return, tucking a hair behind your ear, "Charles, I'm–"

The words are lost on the edge of your tongue the second you emerge from the bedroom's suite, down past the plush sitting area to be met by the sight of him where the corridor joins the rest of the homely setting.

"Bonsoir, bébé."

Even when he is slightly hair-tousled with damp, brunet strays falling about his forehead and the linen of his shirt slightly wrinkled, Charles is a handsome man, devastatingly so; the kind of beautiful that renders the air from your lungs a little even when you hold back light laughter at him now.

From his posture, an effort of an elegant curve to his physique like he is trying to be some suave, pretty flirt from those old, romance comedies you watch, where one elbow is propped against the wood arch of the threshold – the only thing evidently holding him upright – whilst his flushed cheeks strain a little on a dimpled, lazy and contagious smile.

"Hello, Charles."

"Ma belle, I missed you, I'm home," With something close to a brief pout and an attempt at a wink, the man lets his lovely eyes dance down and along your own figure in a lingering admiration and a slow, drawn-out smirk that looks both laughable and far-too-endearing, lithe fingers absently adjusting his loosened shirt collar as you come closer.

"I can see that," In response, you try not to appear amused though it is perceptible on the curve by the corner of your sweet mouth when his eyes follow the subtle shift of your hips as you draw forward until your arms fold around his midriff, breathing him in: champagne and cologne, hints of warm amber and rosewood. "You're drunk."

His arm falls around your shoulder comfortably as he sways against you, kissing the crown of your head like a useless reassurance when he murmurs a lieu of words in the thickened curl of his accent, "Non, ça va, je–"

"Charles." Your face shifts with a look, the both of you stumbling a little backwards where his weight almost has you falling on the edge of a floral rug, a hushed, noncommittal sound close to a chuckle falling from the man as he buries his face into the side of your neck with the punctuation of an open-mouth kiss.

"D'accord, d'accord."

"Stupid," You mutter affectionately, rolling your eyes fondly despite knowing all too well what has him so distracted, the warmth of his mouth and the gentle rasp of his five o'clock shadow tickling the underside of your jaw and the sensitivity there, a purr reverberating from the back of his throat as a response.

"Are you hungry– would you like anything?"

"Just you, chérie, I want to..." The Monégasque trails off momentarily like he is disputing internally with his own dialogue, lightly calloused palms feeling the curve of your waist through pale silk before pausing at your derrière absently – tracing his tongue against the edge of pearlescent teeth – as the two of you move further through the sitting room, his voice a whisper, "Je veux te baiser, mon ange."

With a blush dusting the edges of your cheekbones at the obscène words, you offer a half-apologetic smile whilst stroking back his tousled hair, "How about we get dressed down and settled first, at least?"

Initially, he seems reluctant to offer any hint of acquiescence but he eventually nods a little with a vague sound of acknowledgement, fingertips still feeling over your figure as you walk the path together before reaching the bathroom, the door falling shut gently.

Even when the reality of the presence has you accepting tonight shall be long, the man is undoubtedly his most entertaining and equally sweet as romanticised prophecies when he is intoxicated.

"Mm," It is the only indication you are given when Charles' touch falls upon the lace edges of your négligée, drawing it down the curve of your shoulder slowly as he traces the shell of your ear with his mouth, "You're wearing my favourite."

A soft laugh leaves the depth of your chest – a hushed affirmative sound in reply – before his hands come to cradle either side of your jaw tenderly whilst his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek, the kiss that follows his gentle persuasion more loving, his lips parted softly.

Just as quickly as the almost peaceful, drawn-out intimacy begins, it ends when he gives some hushed, breathless sound of sheer enjoyment whilst his hips absently meets yours until you feel the edge of the basin behind, a palm splaying over his chest just enough to encourage him from pausing.

"We can have a nice bath first and then I might consider your suggestion, monsieur," You offer gently in hushed humour, undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt whilst sealing your sentence with a chaste kiss near his chin.

"I'd much rather have you."

"So romantic," Muttering the words quietly, your nose brushes the bridge of his own fractionally where you see the slight glaze of liquor in his eyes, like gentle moss and warm oak, his mouth shifting almost proudly with momentarily met gazes.

"Only for you, mon cœur, I could write you sonnets of love, la mélodie de tes yeux–"

"Okay, Romeo Montague, how about you wash first?"

The initial hope had only been to coax him into the warmth of the bath waters amongst a touch lavender oil that threatens to lull him further into quiet and peace, wash his hair from your seat and prevent the possibility of any difficulty, though clothes are mutually forgotten on the marble floors and small, white-cotton rug when he guilts you into joining him.

"Charles," A whisper of his name though the cadence of your voice lacks the intent of reproach, bodies close together as he guides you into a comfortable situation about his lap whilst you work nimble fingers through his dampened hair slowly, hoping to distract him from anything but washing and settling down from the dizziness of too much alcohol.

"You smell nice," He mumbles indulgently against your shoulder, tracing a kiss on the jut of your collarbone in the dreamy lull of his voice as though lost in the figments of his own thoughts, "Like les fleurs..."

"And you smell like a bottle of Moët."

The man offers a lowered tune of disagreement, a palm idly stroking the curve of your thigh and down the inside of your knee beneath the warm water as you lather the product through his tresses, holding back a smile when he responds drunkenly like some smitten, hopeless lover of the poets:

"Non, c'est seulement le parfum des nuages."

It is the kind of sweet words that would usually have your cheeks warming or laughing like some conjured image of him in your mind, rifling through books of poetry because you cannot fathom him thinking of such phrases alone, though the moment his lips find the curve of your throat and the sensitive area beneath your jaw, it is harder not to succumb to the gentle temptation and let him have his way, a sigh falling from you.

"What are you doing?"

"Loving you." He says the words so easily, like it is the simplest, most natural truth he could ever admit, the warmth and wetness of his mouth trailing the lines of your throat and across the arch of your shoulders.

"You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," He sounds proud of himself. Then, he is guiding the two of you, bodies pressed flush against one another as you are moved back, the weight of him familiar and the pressure of his mouth meeting yours slowly, "Let me love you, s'il vous plaît, ma chérie."

There are the smallest fragments of his soul and the secrets of his heart within the way his body moves, the gentle touch and the softness, the vulnerability and the passion even in the humour of his intoxicated mannerisms; how he makes love and the manner he holds you after, and there is an undeniable and irrefutable trust you hold for him alone.

#౨ৎ works #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 x you

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feyhunter78 · 5 months

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The Tower of the Wolf

Description: You, one of the last remaining ladies of Dowager Queen Alicent are brought before Cregan Stark, acting Hand of the King.

You attempt to cling to the former Dowager Queen like a child, your nails digging into her skirts. The fabric once beautiful, a vibrant green now dirtied and torn, her pale shaking hands holding your wrists trying to keep you with her. The both of you sobbing as Northmen pull you from her, ignoring your tears and your lady's pleas for your life. Your lady was good, she cared, she fought for you, even now in chains she fought for you, not only because you were her niece, but for you were a cherished member of her court

“She has done nothing wrong, have you no compassion, you beasts?” She spits out the word like it is poison, her nails digging into your skin, leaving raised marks as they drag you from her grip.

“Please, do not take me from her, she is my lady, my duty is to remain by her side!” You try to fight against them, clawing at the man's face, neck, hands, any skin you can reach, you will not leave your lady. Not when she is all you have left, not when you fear what they will do to her if she is alone. The Brothel Queens.

That horrid fool Mushroom had spread the tale, laughing at the way all color drained from your face. It had not been done, the usurper Rhaenyra had died before it could be, but who is to say it could not still be put in place? There are cruel men that remain within the Keep, cruel men who would see your lady punished for the Greens’ actions.

The Northmen clearly grow tired of your protests, and one backhands you. “Waste of time trying to reason with Hightower whores, Lord Stark should just get rid of them.” The force of the slap sending you stumbling into the wall as your lady cries out, tugging at the chains that keep you beyond her reach.

You hold your hand to your cheek, trying to scramble back to her, but you are caught before you can take a step.

“Quit struggling.” Another man snarls, before he flings you over his shoulder, your chin slamming against his armored back, the metallic taste of blood blooms on your tongue, and your vision blurs as more tears pour forth.

You can hear Lady Alicent’s cries as they carry you away. The agonized screams tear at your heart, echoing in your ears even when the door to the dungeons is slammed shut, and you find yourself back in the relative quiet of the Keep’s halls.

The Hour of the Wolf, that is what they are calling it, and you curse the whole of House Stark. How dare they, how dare they come here and act as saviors? You have not even seen Jaehaera since you were thrown in the dungeon with your lady, is she even alive?

You try to calm yourself, focusing on the floor, counting the marble tiles as your captor takes a brisk pace through the halls, muttering to himself in that barbaric northern way. He is taking you to the Tower of the Hand, and your stomach lurches. The screams of your cousin Helaena, sweet, kind Helaena return to your mind, the blood, Jaehaerys’ little body. It was beyond cruel that plot of cursed Daemon Targaryen, beyond cruel that Princess Rhaenyra would go along with it having lost her own son. How could she wish that pain upon sweet Helaena, a girl who had done her no wrong?

Finally, your captor lets you down, dropping you like a sack of potatoes, pain flaring through your body at your ungraceful landing upon the hard stone floor. Someone had removed the carpet, perhaps it had been dirtied. The remainder of the decorations were still present, the rounded window letting light spill in, the hearth empty and boarded up to prevent any assassins from sneaking in. Besides that, it was pristine, untouched by the havoc outside its walls. Though you and Lady Alicent had been allowed to bathe—to walk towards the Stranger in rags, but not filth—before Lord Stark had sent word that you both would be moved, you still felt dirty. Still felt as though the stench of death, the filth of grief, clung to your skin and hair.

“Lord Bolton, I asked you to escort Lady y/n, not drag her here as if she is a common criminal.”

“Apologies, My Lord, but she attacked my men.”

“Attacked?” You can hear the suspicion in his voice, picture the raised eyebrow.

“She attempted to claw their eyes out.”

He laughs, the damned Stark lord laughs, as if it is humorous that you feared so greatly for your life. “If your men are so easily caught off guard perhaps, they need to spend more time training, it does no good to have an army so easily defeated by a single woman.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, uncaring if more blood fills your mouth, you cannot stand to hear his voice, cannot even raise your head to look at him. Will he kill you? You were not a key player in the war, merely a lady-in-waiting, a loyal one, a third daughter of a second son who did not leave her aunt even when she ordered you to. Perhaps you can make a deal, offer yourself as a bedwarmer while the Stark lord is here? Attempt to convince him your lady should be sent back to Oldtown to remain under house arrest with what little family you and her had left. Though he is a Stark and their honor is known, he would not take a mistress…

Bowing your head, you take hold of the seven-pointed star around your neck, a gift from Lady Alicent. You swear that you will go with him, back to the frigid North, if it means your lady would not die in a cell haunted by the ghosts of this cursed keep.

You are too lost in your thoughts to notice that Lord Stark has dismissed Lord Bolton and is kneeling before you, his eyes fixated on the blood trickling from your lip, the ever-forming bruise on your cheek.

“Lady y/n?” He asks softly, much too softly for a man in his position.

You swallow hard and force yourself to raise your eyes, your mouth still tastes of iron, and you know you must force your spine to be made of it as well.

Lord Cregan Stark is handsome, strong jaw, dark hair, eyes like storm clouds, full lips and a scattering of stubble and roguish scars. But his handsome looks do nothing to dampen the raw strength, the aura of a warrior, a man who has killed and will again, that cannot be hidden beneath cloaks and clothing. Broad shoulders, large, calloused hands, and arms that tell of training and hard work, he towers over you even as he kneels, and you are terrified.

“My Lord?” You answer his question with a question, unwilling to give anything away to this beast.

“Are you hurt? You are bleeding.” Cregan says, reaching inside his cloak and pulling out a handkerchief, gently dabbing at your wounded lip.

You flinch back, and he pulls away slowly, his hand still outstretched, leaving the handkerchief between you. “I did not mean to hurt you, my apologies.”

“It was not your fault.” You say quietly, your eyes downcast, focusing on the handkerchief, the pristine white cloth marred by scarlet, blood scattered amongst snow.

“I will have those men disciplined, you are a lady, and should be treated as such.” He sounds earnest, you can detect no falsehoods, but still you are wary.

“Thank you, My Lord, but it is not necessary. I am a prisoner of war; I do not expect to be treated as an honored guest.” You say demurely, clasping your hands in front of you, wincing when you see the blood that covers them.

Cregan takes a waterskin from the desk behind him, the very desk Lord Hightower used to sit at, and wets his handkerchief before gently reaching for your hands. You watch as he cleans the blood from them, using soft circular motions, his calloused hands warm against your much smaller ones, and he does not release them until they are clean.

“This is your home, is it not? You should not be treated as such in your home.” His voice is warm, warmer than his hands, and if you close your eyes you can pretend. Pretend he is a brave knight who has rescued you, not a barbarian from the North who aided those who keep you prisoner.

“This is my lady’s home as well, and she is treated far worse than I.” You protest, praying that he will not grow angry and strike you.

“Your aunt—the Dowager Queen has been sorely mistreated; I arrested the men who cast her into those foul dungeons, and she should be returned to her chambers by the time we have finished here.” Cregan says, folding the handkerchief and setting it with the waterskin on the desk behind him once more.

“I am glad to hear that.” You say, finally able to meet his eyes.

“I am honored I could lighten your spirits.” He says, a wolfish grin gracing his lips, his gray eyes flashing with an unreadable light.

This is what you have prepared yourself for, you must do it, for the good of your lady, for Jaehaera if she still lives, for the realm. All women know a satiated man does not wage war, does not continue the fight when it has been won, he simply takes his prize and returns home. You gather your courage and place your hand upon Cregan’s, looking up at him through your lashes, hoping you do not look as horrid as you feel. “Perhaps you would allow me to show you how glad I am, My Lord?”

He sucks in a breath, almost imperceptibly, a blush blooming across his face, his eyes widening a fraction, and for a moment he does not seem so beastly.

“I cannot imagine you had many comforts on your journey, it is such a long way from Winterfell, is it not? And now after all that fighting you must hold a war-torn city together until others come to a decision, how awful.” You pout at him, for him, and allow one of the torn sleeves of your gown to slip off your shoulder.

“Aye, it was a long journey.” He manages to say, his fingers twitching beneath your hand, his breath catching in his throat when you move your hand to his wrist.

His shuttered breaths embolden you, and you shift forward, placing your other hand on his thigh, the muscle is firm to the touch, you note. “Such things must weigh so heavily upon you…if I am able to lighten that burden, I would be more than happy to.”

“You do not need to.” He says, his eyes flickering from yours to your hand on his thigh. “Truly, Lady y/n, I would never press myself upon you, I am not that kind of man.”

“But I want to, I want to help.” The lie rolls off your tongue easily, for it is half-truth. You cannot deny Cregan is attractive, but he still holds your life in his hands and could easily crush it at any time. There is something dangerously appealing about that, though, and you find that despite the dangers, you are desperate for the warmth he radiates.

Cregan’s eyes darken, and he groans low in his throat, closing the distance between you, stopping a hairsbreadth from your lips. “Tell me to stop, push me away, scream, slap me, I will not fight you, I will have you seen back to your lady, there will be no punishment.”

Liquid heat rolls through your veins at the sound of his desperate rasp, the restraint he possesses to not surge forward and claim you as his own. “Lord Sta—”

“Cregan.” He corrects softly, “I wish to hear you say my name.”

“Cregan, I do not wish you to stop.” You tell him, head spinning with the way his mere presence overwhelms your senses, the scent of pine and campfire smoke, his warm hands, his eyes, so dark, so deep you may drown.

Cregan’s lips meet yours, tasting of salt and honey, an oddly pleasant combination, his hands on your waist, beacons of warmth and civility, as his lips take you under, whispering heated words every time you part for air. “Say it again, I beg of you.”

“Cregan, please, do not stop.” You oblige him, grabbing at his tunic, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate for him to do something. Like sully that Stark honor and bind himself to you forever, giving you some kind of foothold in this new era that he has helped usher in.

He pulls back, breathing ragged, and he looks at you, truly looks at you. “If I do not stop now, My Lady, I will not be able to stop at all and I—”

“I wish to hear you say my name.” You echo his words from before, threading your fingers in his dark locks, and guiding his lips back to yours, but turning at the last moment and pressing your lips to his jaw.

“Y/N, please, if you do not stop me”—he lets out a strangled curse when your lips drift lower finding a seemingly sensitive spot, your teeth making a home there—“I am a man, an honorable one, and I have fought and won a war, and I am tempted, by the gods I am tempted, but I do not wish to view you as a prize.”

“Why not? I wish to be your war prize.” You press the words into the skin of his neck, reddened marks blooming in your wake, his grip on you tightens at your words, his head falling back exposing more of his skin.

“Others take me, will you truly have me live up to their stories, the barbarians of the North who steal innocent maidens away from their homes?” Cregan asks, even as he leans into your touch, moaning when you shift in his lap.

“My home is where my lord husband is, wherever he will have me.” Your words drip with implications, your lips pressed to his ear.

He shivers at the sensation, his eyes impossibly dark, his voice low, heady with lust. “I will have you in Winterfell.”

TL: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool, @jennifer0305, @solkara, @simpinonyouz, @lorarri

#meg's writing #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark imagine #hotd #hotd fanfic #team green #fey's brand of stark rizz #cregan stark #hightower!reader

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killerlookz · 2 months

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You and Your Friend | Joost Klein, Ski Aggu

description: joost klein x f! reader, ski aggu x f! reader- Upon seeing each other for the first time in a year after a hook-up, lingering tension remains between you and Joost, leaving his friend Aggu to decide to play matchmaker for you two in a rather unusual way.

content: 18+ smut, mdni, threesome, unprotected PiV, cream pie, oral (both m! and f! receiving) spitroasting?? i think that's what its called, a little orgasm denial, f!overstim, a tinge of jealousy (less than I originally planned cos its been a min since i wrote something without angst lol), drinking, aggu being a complete sneaky little bastard/kind of convoluted plot bc of it, mentioned that reader has moved to LA but no nationality or country of origin is assigned to them. not super proofread

THIS FIC CONTAINS RPF AND HAS BEEN TAGGED AS SUCH... IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DO NOT INTERACT, PLEASE BLOCK THE RPF TAG AND MOVE ON. DO NOT SHARE MY WORK ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIAS OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR EITHER IN SCREENSHOTS OR IN ITS ENTIRETY.

word count: 9095

The bitter taste of liquor drips down your throat, an uncomfortable warmth invading your abdomen as the liquid reaches your stomach. Your muscles tense, your eyes forcing shut, an involuntary twitch trembling through your nerves. With a groan of disgust you slam the shot glass down on the marble counter in front of you, your eyes finally opening as you do so.

Music thumps around you, pouring from expensive speakers throughout the impressive expanse of the house you currently stood in. Party-goers intoxicated on the finest substances money could buy surrounded you, their loud voices almost rivaling the music.

Since moving to Los Angeles parties like this had become your thing, mansions in the hills that you could't dream of affording had practically become your second home. Vague connections with the music industry, and being a friend, of a friend, of a friend had managed to get you in just about anywhere. You were working your way up to becoming a well-known socialite, minus the usual rich parents and nepotism.

Parties like this were usually your thing, making drunken connections and inching your way up the city's social totem pole, all while having the time of your life. Today seemed different, the liquor wasn't hitting you the same, the music didn't sound right, and engaging in conversation felt like a chore. Being fresh-faced and hot in Los Angeles, you had become far too used to the world being yours, but not tonight. Tonight the one thing you wanted was too far out of your reach.

Last year one of your friends suggesting a surprise vacation had landed you in Berlin, and a night of clubbing had landed you in bed with a particular Dutch musician. His name was Joost, relatively unknown outside of the Netherlands at the time, he and a friend who called himself Ski Aggu had been out celebrating having a number one hit in Germany. It felt like fate that he had ended up at the same club where you had been, and it didn't take much for him to charm your clothes off. Both he and Aggu were far different than the musicians you had met in the states. Confident, but not full of themselves like you had been used to, both men had actually given you the time of day, they were interested in you beyond what you could do for them sexually. Truth be told you would have been happy to go home with either of them that night, and you wondered if Aggu had been the one to take you to bed if you would even be in the predicament you were in now.

You and Joost had kept vague contact since the night you hooked up, how could you not? He was an exceptional lay, fucking you like the two of you were long lost lovers, making you cum over and over until you collapsed into a whimpering mess in his arms. It felt far too sweet for a one-night stand, and, perhaps stupidly you had thought there was something more there. Hence, your lingered contact, an occasional text here and there to catch up on how things had been, a phone call on an even rarer occasion.

You hadn't exactly expected him to blow up in the way that he did in the year since you last saw him, a spot competing on Eurovision, and a subsequent disqualification put fame right at his finger tips. Still, even with his newfound success, and much less "low-key" life, which had resulted in your contact with him reaching a screeching halt, you still refused to believe that you were nothing more than a one-night stand. That fact alone had made tonight just about impossible for you. Never in a million years had you expected Joost to be in the States, let alone one of these parties, this was your territory. But, there was no denying that was the case as you tried your hardest to prevent your gaze from wandering across the room towards where you knew he had been standing. You tried your hardest to rack your brain on who he could have known here, but after his stint as a Eurovision contestant, you shouldn't be so surprised, sure he now had connections far wider than you could imagine. Though, you found it charming how he still traveled with that same group of friends he had when you met him in that tiny club in Berlin. And certainly seeing Joost again would be a much more charming experience if he had actually bothered to glance your way at least once tonight. But you had no such luck.

Leaving your empty shot glass on the marble countertop, you decide to drag yourself off to another part of the home, somewhere where it isn't so crowded, where you can have some space to think, to breathe. Usually on nights like tonight, ironically enough thinking was the last thing on your mind, but now, you had felt like you needed somewhere to escape to where you could hear your own thoughts. Maybe then, in the comfortability of your the presence of nobody else but yourself could you once again bring out that messy party girl who was screaming to be let out of you.

An empty bedroom had become the perfect place for you to wallow in your self-pity for the time being. The music still thumped in your ears, albeit more muffled now, and the voices of party goers were nothing but a dull hum. You let yourself fall onto the large bed, your body hitting the thick, surely all-too-expensive comforter. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating your next move, never in your life had you felt like this when it came to a guy. Never had you let yourself second guess whether you were worth a man's time, of course you were worth it. But with Joost, you couldn't help but lose the self-assurance you always had, for once, you found yourself actually caring about what someone else thought of you. Your stomach churned at the thought, getting all self-conscious over a guy you barely knew was surely a major blow to your I don't give a fuck reputation. For the first time since you had moved to Los Angeles, you had been humbled.

"Oh, shit." A vaguely familiar chuckle travels from where you think the door to the bedroom is. The accent in the voice is apparent, even in those two short words, enough for you to be almost-certain of who now occupies the bedroom with you. Almost-certain isn't enough, however, and straining slight due to your tipsy nature you sit up from where your back rests against the bed.

Your suspicions are immediately confirmed upon getting a glimpse at the other person in the room.

"Aggu!" You grit your teeth, attempting a smile, and immediately you regret your decision to address him by name, positive he had probably completely forgotten who you are. You cross your legs and sit up straight.

Aggu smiles back, leaning against the door frame,

"Am I interrupting something?" He asks, a little confused, but amusement still written all over his face. "Waiting for Joost?" He laughs. He did remember you.

"Joost?" You scoff, trying your hardest to pretend that the idea of you wanting anything to do with Joost was ridiculous, "No." You shake your head, hopefully hiding your bitterness behind a polite smile, "I didn't even know he was here."

Aggu smirks, forcing a tension into the room. Watching as his lips curl your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into the thick fabric of the comforter.

"Blödsinn." (nonsense) His tone is disapproving as his arms cross, you don't understand a what he says, not that you can concentrate much on whatever comes out of his mouth with the way his bicep muscles strain against the tight fabric of his t-shirt. You wonder briefly if he has always been this fit, if you had been too busy drooling over Joost last time you saw him to realize.

"Sorry," Aggu chuckles, clocking your lack of comprehension, "I mean to say you're full of shit."

"What," Your eyes widen, muscles tensing, "No, I'm not." You're instantly defensive, which you're sure gives yourself away entirely.

"I have working eyes under those ski goggles" He uncrosses an arms, pressing a finger under his eye, tapping twice. There's an odd sweetness about his condescension towards you, like he's slowly, wordlessly beginning to understand your situation.

"Hm?" You hum, barely loud enough for him to hear, your eyebrows furrow for a moment- right, your face returns to a more relaxed expression, you had forgotten about his ski goggle shtick, and perhaps you could consider yourself lucky for the only two times you had seen him in person had been without his goggles.

"Unless it's me you've been oggling all night." You and him both know that isn't true, you can tell in the way he speaks, it's more of a suggestion. You shrug, letting a sheepish look fall on your face in pretend innocence.

"Joost and I... only hooked up that one time," You say, your voice indicating you had little regard for the situation, perhaps you weren't such a bad liar after all, "But maybe I wish it was you who I had gone home with instead." At least that wasn't entirely a lie, at least even now Aggu seemed willing to give you the time of day, even if he had only stumbled into you on accident.

You let your eyes widen, suddenly looking up at Aggu from your spot on the bed through batted lashes, a pout forming on your well-glossed lips, and there she was, that messy party girl inside of you, finally crawling her way out. Slowly, you uncross your legs, letting your thighs part slightly, though not quite enough to get a glimpse of anything up your skirt.

"Ja?" Aggu's eyebrows raise as he slowly lifts himself from against the door frame, walking towards you. "Guess you don't feel the same about that night as Joost does then."

"What do you mean?" The words fall from your lips before your brain can even catch up, and she's gone, the simple sentence knocking you down once again. Had Joost actually enjoyed that night as much as you did?

"Joost isn't the type to kiss and tell." His arms crossing again, he's much closer to you now, "But after a night like that I think he had to."

"A night like..." You're suddenly worried about what Aggu had heard about that night, trying to remember if anything particularly crazy happened, nothing stood out, though maybe you and him did not have the same threshold for what would be considered "crazy."

"Don't want to say too much," He trails off for a moment, letting his mouth once again curl into a smirk, "Just something about the best sex of his life."

Your entire body is hot, burning, the best sex of his life? You could say the same, and the expression that forms on your face threatens to let Aggu know as much.

"Yeah?" You let a smirk settle on your face, your confidence finding you once more, "Can't say he's the first I've heard that from."

"So, you're really not waiting for Joost up here? No plans to relive that night?" Aggu asks, like he didn't believe you the first time you said so. You simply shake your head in response. "A shame for him then." Aggu says matter-of-factly, "Not interested in topping your performance from last time?"

"I'm afraid he's the one who isn't interested." Your vulnerability surprises you, but you cannot say your intentions are entirely pure, thinking if you told the truth, that his best friend didn't seem to be interested, your chances with Aggu would increase tonight. If you can't have one, why wait around and deny yourself of the other?

Aggu shakes his head, "You sound certain."

"Believe me," You sigh, "I've got the memo, no response from him in weeks and he hasn't even looked at me since he got here, I'm certain."

"Maybe I wouldn't be so sure," He teases, "Jealousy is an excellent motivator,"

"Jealousy?" You perk up, interested, immediately picking up what he was putting down.

Aggu nods slowly, "And if it doesn't end up as a motivator, I'm sure we'll have a good time either way." He seems so much taller now that he stands right in front of you, lustful eyes staring down at your spot on the bed, "I get my best friend laid, I get laid, and you get laid, looks like we all win."

And why have one or the other when you could have both?

"Right," You murmur, choked in the moment, "Winners." Your luck had suddenly turned, the prospect of what was in store for you tonight makes your muscles tense, your thighs squeezing together, forced shut from their parted position.

Aggu's hand slips to your chin, his thumb pressing against your lips, you're like putty in his hands the moment he touches you.

"Ah," He smiles, noticing the way you melt under him, "You weren't lying when you said you wanted me to take you home."

"Not at all," You breathe out, your muscles relaxing, allowing yourself to enjoy the warmth of Aggu's touch. You lean into his hand, and pucker your lips, pressing a kiss to his thumb. Aggu drags his finger against your bottom lip, pulling it down and forcing your mouth into a pout,

"C'mon," He urges, "Let's go downstairs before we take things too far."

You nod, staring up at Aggu silently, waiting for him to help you up. He does so quickly, reaching a firm hand out for you to grab.

The music becomes more apparent as Aggu leads you out into the hallway, even more so as you head back down the stairs to where the bulk of the party-goers reside.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly you're able to spot Joost, though not fully allowing yourself to wallow in the shame of how desperate you were for him, you chalked it up to him not having moved too far from the last place you had seen him.

Joost doesn't seem to notice you and Aggu, however, as the pair of you step in the room, your hand still in his.

Sparked with an idea, you rip your hand from Aggu's, instead turning toward him. You ruffle your hand through your hair, before lowering your fingers to your lips, swiping a thumb hard enough to just barely smudge the color that stains them. Lowering your hands even farther you slip one of the straps of your top down, letting it hang off your shoulder.

"What's that for?" Aggu asks over the music.

"Giving myself the I just had sex look."

Aggu snakes a hand onto your waist, "Maybe I should have just fucked you upstairs then."

His straightforwardness knocks the breath from you for a split moment,

"The time will come," You say sweetly, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair, attempting to get him to match your mild state of disheveled.

Aggu's eyes flick towards Joost, who's sitting on a couch across the room with his friend Apson, who you remembered vaguely from last year.

"Why don't we go take a seat, hm, looks like there's room for only one more."

You bite your lip, ready to fully lean into the jealousy act.

With his arm around your waist Aggu walks you over to where Joost had been sitting, still even with the assurance of someone who knew actually knew Joost leading you, you can't seem to quell the small pang of anxiety that rings somewhere deep inside you.

Finally it seems Joost takes his first good look at you tonight, a look of amusement on his face as he sees you walking over with Aggu.

"Where have you been, man?" Joost laughs, averting his gaze from you, speaking solely to Aggu.

"Around," Aggu responds flippantly, "Hey, you remember y/n, right?" His grip tightening around your waist, "You two met last year." With his free hand Aggu points between the two of you.

Joost's eyes widen, clearly unsure of what game Aggu was getting at here,

"Ja- uh ja," Joost clears his throat, his eyes quickly darting to you, "Nice to see you again." He nods, an uncomfortable smile pressed to his lips.

"You too," You respond cautiously, feigning disinterest, only a polite grin gracing your lips.

Aggu takes a seat next to Joost before grabbing your hand,

"C'mon sit down," He urges, pulling you onto his lap. After you're settled on his lap Aggu turns towards Apson, "Hey, Appie you remember y/n too right?"

A large grin forms on Apson's lips, a chuckle threatening to spill from his mouth,

"Ja, oh I remember." You watch as Apson gently judges Joost, his elbow poking at Joost's ribcage. You suppress a smirk as you realize how far news of you and Joost's hookup had spread in his friend group. Joost sends Apson a quick glance, one that says knock it off, but it doesn't tame the smile on his face.

"So," Joost speaks quickly to avert the topic from Apson's recollection of the night you and Joost had hooked up, "How have you been?"

You nod, humming pleasantly, "Good," you pause for a moment, racking your brain for what else to say, "Life's been, fun. How about you, things seem interesting in your world."

"Interesting is-eh, definitely a correct word to describe it." He agrees, "I'm grateful though, you know, with everything, it's cool."

"Absolutely," You lean back on Aggu, letting your back rest on his chest, letting your ass settle in his lap, "You must be tired from everything, no?"

Joost shakes his head, "Overwhelming a little," He pauses, "But not tired, I have good stamina." Oh he sure did, that you knew for sure.

"I see Aggu has been busy too," You pull the conversation away from Joost, "You have a new album coming out soon, right? Oh what's it called again?" You ask, turning your head down towards Aggu, placing a hand onto his chest.

"Wilmersdofrs Kind," Aggu smiles, a hand sneaking its way around your front and onto your thigh.

"Ah, and what does that mean?"

"Wilmersdorf's Child." He answers, "You know, Wilmersdorf, is an area of Berlin, maybe next time you're in Germany I could show you around." His grip tightens on his thigh.

"Oh Aggu," You gush, "You are such a sweetheart. I'd love for you to take me sightseeing." Normally, acting like this towards someone you barely knew would make your stomach churn, but the way you notice Joost clenching his jaw when you flick your eyes in his direction makes all the over-the-top flintiness worth it. Besides, it wasn't like it was a challenge to flirt with a man as good looking as him.

"Speaking of traveling," Joost pipes up, "Have you ever been to the Netherlands?"

The muscles of your mouth pull upwards, funny how eager Joost seemed to talk to you now that you were sitting on Aggu's lap, the pair of you flirting aggressively.

You shake your head, "No, never." Keeping your responses short, you don't want to give him too much too soon.

"Have you ever thought about coming to the Netherlands?"

"Depends," You bite your lip, "Do I get to have you as my tour guide? Or are you too busy for me now, Mr. Eurovision." You tease.

"Never too busy, If Aggu doesn't mind me co-opting his tour guide position." Joost shoots Aggu a glance, the pair of them communicating silently, though you cannot quite read either of their expressions.

"Never too busy?" You ask, "Could have fooled me."

"Y/n," Aggu lightly scolds, gripping your thigh

"Um," Apson speaks all of a sudden, "I think I'm going to go-uh- over there, I think Alanis was calling my name." Apson loosely points in a random direction, one where Alanis certainly is not standing. But without another word he's hurrying off the couch. The three of you watch as he scurries off into the direction he pointed in before returning to the conversation.

"What?" Joost furrows his eyebrows, and in an instant you're ready to abandon the whole jealousy act now that you have an opportunity to let Joost know exactly how you had been feeling. But Aggu's fingers gripping into the flesh of your thigh make you think twice, perhaps letting your frustrations out right now would further harm your chances of the night ending the way you want.

"Nothing," You purse your lips, "Just seem like you have a lot on your plate."

"I don't mind making time for you, if that's what you want." And all of a sudden your mouth goes dry and you're not so sure you're talking about traveling anymore.

"Yeah," Aggu interjects, "I'm sure she'd like that," His hand traveling closer to your inner thigh, forcing your body to tense up, "And, I don't mind sharing my position as tour guide." I don't mind sharing are not exactly the words you want to hear out of Aggu's mouth, after all the entire point of this was to make Joost jealous. But you trusted Aggu to read Joost better than you could, even if it did disappoint you how quickly he loosened up on the jealousy act.

"Joost," Aggu speaks again, "Why don't you move over so y/n can actually have a seat."

"Oh," Joost whips his head around to look behind him, realizing with Apson's absence the seat next to him is open. "Ja, sure."

You turn towards Aggu, confused, but all he responds with his cocking his head in the direction of the now empty seat between him and Joost.

Admittedly, a little disappointed, you lift yourself off of Aggu's lap, settling onto the couch. Still, Aggu's hand immediately returns to your thigh.

You're suddenly very aware of yourself, your position between Aggu and Joost, and you wonder if this had been the plan the whole time, if Aggu had intentionally wandered off upstairs in search of you, if he even had any intentions of trying to make Joost jealous in the first place. Had they planned to share you this entire time, from the second they laid their eyes on you tonight?

The thought has you sucking in a sharp breath, one that clearly concerns the both of them,

"You okay?" Aggu asks, caressing your thigh.

"Yeah," You assure, nodding, more than okay, but you decide to pounce on this opportunity to get the two of them away from the crowd, "It's just kind of loud, do you think we can continue this conversation upstairs?"

Joost and Aggu share knowing glances, "Of course," Joost affirms.

You're back in that bedroom, those four walls suddenly feeling familiar as you find yourself back on the bed once more.

"Aggu, can you close the door? It's still kind of loud..."

Aggu, having just barely walked in the room obliges, shutting the door behind him as he passed through the doorway.

Your body tenses at the sudden realization of you being alone with Aggu and Joost, unsure of how to take this where you want it to go. But as your eyes flick between the two of them a familiar feeling sinks in you, the world is yours once again. You settle into your spot on the bed, feeling a little bad for whoever this bedroom actually belonged to. You lean back, propping yourself up with your forearms, your legs still hanging off the bed.

"Are you two just going to stand there?" You giggle, a little surprised that both of them seemed to be frozen in place. Joost looks around, unsure of himself, his line of sight meeting Aggu as he turns to the side.

Aggu cocks his head towards you, "You first," He smirks in response to Joost's uncertainty, "Show her how bad you want her." Want you?

"Yeah," You catch your bottom lip in your teeth, "Come show me." You let your eyes settle on Joost. He seems so much taller than usual as he walks towards where you rest on the bed. You can't help but part your legs almost instinctively, allowing him to stand between them once he gets close enough.

You await his next move as you stare up at him through your lashes. Joost quickly looks back at Aggu once more, motioning with his head for him to come closer,

"Sit behind her, so she can lay on you." It felt a little strange to be talked about in the third person, but it only affirmed that tonight was about you, both of them there for no other reason than to please you.

Aggu agrees, making his way to the bed, sitting behind you, resting on his knees, positioning himself so one leg is on either side of you. His hands are familiar as they find themselves on your torso,

"C'mon," Aggu urges, "You can lay back, Hasi." (bunny)

You let Aggu prop you up with his body, no longer relying on your forearms for support, you're more upright now. Aggu's breath is hot against your neck, the tickling sensation sending shockwaves through your nerves, forcing a twitch from you.

"She's so sensitive," Aggu chuckles, noticing the way you squirm from nothing but his breath grazing your flesh.

"Don't I know it," Joost smiles, clearly remembering this wasn't the first time you had found yourself in such a position with him. Joost reaches a hand forward to hold your chin between his fingers.

"Lay back a little more," He says, a request to both you and Aggu, one to which you both oblige, letting your body slip down further as Aggu adjust's his position. "Good," Joost smiles before patting your thigh with his free hand, "Now bend your legs for me, schatje." The nickname makes your heart skip a beat, recalling his past use of the word. You oblige without a word, kicking off your heels and pulling your legs from where they hang off of the bed, shuffling further back against Aggu so you have enough room.

Your skirt slides up your thighs as you bend your legs, knees now pointing upward. Joost removes his hand from your chin, sinking down to his knees in front of you, his eyes more at level with your crotch now than with your face. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but it had been so long, you're left feeling exposed, especially as the flimsy fabric of your lacey thong left very little to the imagination.

A content smirk rests on Joost's face as he slides a hand up from your ankle to your calf, taking his time to caress your skin. As Joost slowly teases the lower half of your body, Aggu takes it upon himself to work on your upper body, his hands sliding to the bottom hem of your shirt.

"Arms up," He simply says, and no questions asked, your arms are in the air, allowing Aggu to pull your top over your head. Your back briefly parts from his chest to allow him to fully take your top off, discarding it somewhere on the bed. Your decision to forgo a bra tonight only leaves you even more exposed.

Joost's averts his eyes from your inner thighs, a look of content settling on his face,

"Missed seeing this pretty body," His hands slip up higher on your legs, "Imagination could only get me so far."

The implications of Joost's statement makes your head spin, he had been thinking of you, just as you had been thinking of him.

"Isn't she pretty?" Joost prompts Aggu,

Aggu hums in response, though it comes out more like a low growl as his lips near your neck, "Absolutely gorgeous."

Sitting up a little higher on his knees, Joost begins to press small kisses to your legs, beginning just above your ankle, up to your knee. Each tiny peck against your skin increases the tightness that builds in your abdomen, desperate to feel Joost against your heat as his head inches closer, and closer.

By the time Joost reaches your inner thigh, his small pecks have turned into sloppy, generous kisses, using his tongue more than he was his lips. Aggu made similar work of your neck, nipping at your flesh with his teeth before carefully soothing each bite with his tongue, finishing off each blooming red blemish with a prolonged kiss.

Only a few minutes into this ordeal and you were already a mess, squirming and whimpering before either man had properly touched you.

You feel Joost's hands on your outer thighs, pushing your skirt up to your hips. Your panties or what little of them there is are on full display, Joost's tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his soft pink lips at the sight.

A hand falls from where it rests at the hem of your skirt, lightly grazing your fabric-clad crotch, causing you to suck in a gasp. Joost chuckles at your reaction, his hand returning to the thin lace. Joost presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing slightly through your panties. The sensation is barely stifled by the fabric, his circular motions sending jolts through your entire body, each action only making you crave him more.

With each gentle rub you feel your arousal growing, the tight lace pressed against your hole growing damper by the second. You buck your hips forward, desperate to feel more of Joost.

"So impatient," He clicks his tongue.

"I think a year is long enough for me to wait," You sigh.

"What do you think Aggu?" The mention of his name has Aggu pulling away from your neck, "Should we make her wait any longer?"

"Nhn-nhn," Aggu's chin bumps against your cheek as he shakes his head in disagreement, "Give her what she wants." A breath of relief exits your lungs at Aggu's words, "I want to hear how pretty she sounds as you fuck her on your tongue."

"Can't argue with that," The pads of Joost's fingers finding their way to the crotch of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side. The air that surrounds you is cold against your wetness, forcing you to clench around nothing. "Relax," Joost mumbles, "It's just me," head creeping forward toward your inner thighs.

A sudden kiss against your clit forces a sharp breath down your throat. Joost continues to tease with small kisses until his tongue flattens against you, licking through your soaked folds, the action completed by his lips capturing your swollen bud, lightly sucking.

His tongue was just as perfect as you had remembered it being, immediately forcing you to buck your hips forward to feel more of him. Joost is able to read your cues, pressing his tongue harder against you, his movements becoming more forceful as he continues to lick at your folds.

In the meantime, Aggu had returned his lips to your neck, continuing his pattern of biting and sucking. The sensation of both his and Joost's mouths working on such sensitive parts of your body is enough to make you worry about cumming entirely too prematurely.

Aggu's hands make their way around to your front, his large palms groping at your breasts, squeezing at the supple flesh. While one hand continues to palm at your tits, the other pinches the hardened surface of your nipple between his fingers. The feeling forces you to arch your back, pushing you further onto Joost's tongue. A strangled squeak is all that can escape your throat in response.

Joost's tongue laps at your slit with all the intent to bring you to orgasm as quick as possible, eager to give you just exactly what you want. But you're determined to make this moment last as long as possible, unsure of when the next time you would have the pleasure of being with two men such as Joost and Aggu at once would even be.

Still, your desperation to deny your orgasm for as long as you can, doesn't stop the way your legs shake under Joost's touch. His tongue so skillfully applying the perfect amount of pressure to where you need him most.

Joost momentarily stops his careful licks to fully press his mouth to you, once again letting his lips surround your clit, first softly kissing, then sucking at the sensitive nerves. Your hands find themselves tangled in Joost's hair, dancing between pulling at the strands, and pushing his head further down on you, begging him to apply even more pressure.

Joost presses his tongue to you once again, licking down to your aching hole, first teasing around it before dipping in. You groan at the sensation, hips bucking as you fuck yourself on Joost's tongue.

Aggu takes advantage of how low Joost's mouth is on you now, a hand trailing from your breast down to your mound. Careful to not get in Joost's way, he places a single finger to your clit, rubbing soft circles.

You cannot believe the pleasure you're feeling, unlike anything you had experienced before. Both Aggu and Joost seemed exceptionally skilled at what they were doing, as if they had known your body forever, knowing exactly what to do to push you closer and closer to the edge.

It's almost a struggle to keep your legs open, the only thing keeping your thighs parted was Joost's head between them. You don't know how much longer you can hold out, not with the way your entire body trembles with pleasure, both Joost and Aggu trying their absolute hardest to reach that state of bliss.

"You close, sweetie?" Aggu mumbles against your neck, the vibrations from his vocal cords sending shivers down your spine. You don't really even have to respond, not with the way your unrelenting moans speak for you. "It's okay, you can let go baby, I'm sure Joost would love to feel you cum against his tongue."

Aggu's words conflict you, wanting to cum for Joost's sake, but wanting to hold out for your own. Your eyes screw shut, knowing you won't be able to hold off much more.

Aggu's once-soft circles against your clit soon speed up, becoming rougher, all but begging you to cum for him and Joost. Your body is so tight, your pussy clenching around the warmth of Joost's tongue, with a final whimper you're sent over the edge, squirming in Aggu's gentle grasp as you reach your high.

"That's right," Aggu mumbles, sensing your orgasm, your body trembling above him. You cannot control the sounds that escape you, they're dirty, like something straight from a porn, except for you they were real, one hundred percent the result of Joost and Aggu's touch.

Your twitching begins to slow as your orgasm rolls over you, your breathing becoming labored, head falling back against Aggu's shoulder. Your legs quickly fall from their bent position, hanging off the bed once more when Joost finally removes his head from between your thighs.

Joost's glasses are fogged, and the most content look is pressed against his lips, which glisten from your release. His tongue glides over his glossy lips, before pulling in with a happy hum,

"Just as good as I remembered."

You need a moment, unable to speak as you catch your breath, slumped against Aggu's chest.

"Don't tell me you're tired out already," Aggu chastises.

"No," You sigh, your chest rising and falling rapidly, "Just need to catch my breath."

"Oh," Aggu whines, almost mocking, "Can you catch your breath while you get on your hands and knees for me, schatz."

You nod quickly, lifting yourself from Aggu's chest and rolling over, plopping stomach first on to the comforter. The mattress dips slightly as Aggu shifts positions before getting off the bed to stand behind you.

"C'mon," Aggu taps your ass, "You can get up."

Slowly, you rise up from your position laying flat on the bed, resting on your forearms you get onto your knees, arching your back, forcing your ass into the air.

"Good," Aggu muses, his hand smoothing over your ass, allowing himself a moment to ogle at the sight in front of him.

The mattress dips again, the movement drawing your curiosity, raising your head. Joost now shared the bed with you, shuffling to sit in front of you on his knees.

"Think you can take us both?" Aggu asks, the sound of metal snapping behind you, which you recognize as a belt buckle unclasping.

You swallow, head trailing up to look at Joost, his hands reaching for the buckle of his own belt. You blink a few times, processing the thought, both of them at once.

"It's just a simple yes or no schatje," Joost removes one hand from his belt to place his palm to the top of your head, lazily petting down your hair and to your cheek. You lean into his touch, nodding,

"Mhm," You hum, "Please." You arch your back a little more, head slipping down, leaving Joost's grasp.

Joost's eyes leave yours, flicking to where you presume Aggu is, giving him a nod.

"Okay," Aggu sighs, his hand settling at your waist, "Let Joost start first."

You continue to stare at Joost through heavy lashes, watching as his hands play with the large metal buckle of his belt. You bite the insides of your cheeks at the prospect of what's to come, Joost's fingers slowly slipping into the waistband of his jeans, then his boxers, pulling them down at the same time.

Your breathing loses its pace for a split moment as Joost's cock springs free from the confines of his clothing. He grips the base, palm slowly sliding up its length until he reaches the tip, his thumb circling the slit, spreading the small clear pearl of pre-cum around the soft pink flesh.

"Up on your hands, a little higher," Joost says, your current position so low on the bed making what he wanted to do impossible. Eager to take him in your mouth, you straighten your arms, resting the weight of the front half of your body in your palms. "Perfect," He mumbles, hips rocking forward until the tip of his cock reaches your lips.

You let your tongue slip forward, just barely parting your lips, licking the slit ever-so-slightly, gathering the salty taste of pre-cum in your mouth.

"Come on," Joost says sweetly, "Open those pretty lips," Guiding his cock with his hand on the shaft, he drags the tip over your lips, urging you to open up. You have no desire to tease him, simply lowering your jaw to take him into your mouth.

You let your lips capture the tip, sucking slightly, immediately making Joost groan before you've even taken him all the way in. His hips buck forward, pushing himself further into the warmth of your mouth. As he pushes into you, you point your tongue upward, licking a stripe against the vein that runs down the bottom of his cock.

He doesn't push all the way into you, stopping about three-fourths of the length of his cock before rocking his hips backward, pulling out of your mouth.

At the same time, Aggu's hands find themselves at the waistband of your skirt, slowly pulling it down to your mid thighs, your panties following shortly after.

Aggu mumbles something in German, but from the tone of his voice, you can assume whatever he had to say was good. His palms find there way to the back of your thighs, both his thumbs pressing against your cunt. The feeling of Aggu touching your already sensitive pussy causes you to whimper, sending vibrations down the length of Joost's cock as he pushes himself back into your mouth, making him mutter.

Using his thumbs Aggu spreads your folds, then running a single thumb through your arousal, teasing slightly. As his thumb just barely hovers over your entrance you instinctively rock back, wanting to feel him inside you.

"Joost was right, you are impatient." He teases, "Lucky for you, I can't wait any longer."

You're unable to respond, not as the most of the length of Joost's cock is down your mouth, tip teasing your throat. Both Joost and Aggu at once already felt all to overwhelming, and Aggu wasn't even inside of you yet.

You jolt forward once you feel the tip of Aggu's dick, slip through your folds, gathering your wetness. Your sharp movement forward forcing Joost further down your throat, causing you to gag and quickly pull back.

"Careful," Joost warns, "Don't need to take so much." Despite the dirty situation you're in, Joost's caution to keep you comfortable is oddly heartwarming, only urging you to want to pleasure him further.

With no warning from Aggu, he pushes into you, causing you to once again moan around Joost.

"Fuck," Aggu mumbles, already seeming content, with just the tip inside of you. With a strong grip on your waist, feeling like his fingers are about to bruise your soft skin, Aggu continues to push his hips forward, slowly allowing you to take him. Your eyes shut tight as you stretch around his length, your fingers gripping the comforter at the initial sensation.

Both you and Aggu let out a deep breath as he bottoms out into you, having finally adjusted to him. Just as slow as he pushed into you, Aggu rocks his hips back, pulling out, allowing you to feel all of him against your walls.

Aggu groans, "So good," He sighs, "Already is perfect, sweetie." He thrusts into you again, a little harsher this time now that you've adjusted to him. His thrusts push you further onto Joost's cock as he's attempting to pull out of you, causing Joost to pause for a moment, allowing each of their paces to adjust to match each other, so they aren't playing an awkward game of tug-of-war with your body.

After a few strokes each of them are able to synchronize with each other, both of them fucking into you, and pulling out at the same time.

Your knees are already weak, your wrists sore from the position you're holding yourself in. Every single sensation feels all too overwhelming, you could just collapse right then and there, into a trembling mess on the bed. Though you won't give up so easily, needing at the very least to be fucked by Joost too, no matter how bad you'll be squirming and whimpering under him.

Joost soon begins to lose pace with Aggu, his breathing becoming more present, his heaves in and out filling the room. You're sure he's going to be finishing down your throat any second, but in a move that surprises you, he entirely pulls out of your mouth with a final groan. The action forces you to look up at him, wondering why he had decided to stop. His lips are parted, glasses slipping down his nose as he looks down at you, you can see his eyes full of lust even through thick lenses.

You pout slightly, your gaze being enough of a question to prompt an answer from Joost,

"Focus on Aggu, liefje," He urges, chin cocking upward in Aggu's direction, "Didn't want to spoil my turn with you." His mouth quirks up in a smirk. Lazily, you nod, unable to even really think about that now, not as Aggu slams into you at a now more vigorous pace,

"Might get that turn soon," Aggu grunts, his tone indicating a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. The sound of Joost's breathing escapes your ears, now only able to focus on the filthy noises Aggu's movements produce. The sounds of your slick coating Aggu's cock with each thrust, the smacking of his hips to your ass, his low grunts and your strangled moans, it makes the booming music from downstairs sound like nothing more than a dull whisper.

Joost looks down at the two of you in amusement,

"You're so good," He beams, "She's good isn't she?" His question pointed towards Aggu

"Fucking perfect," He agrees, "So wet and warm," His palms tighten on your waist, "Pussy squeezing me just right."

You're drunk on their simple praises, and as Aggu's newfound grip on you only pulls you further back onto his cock, you're unsure of how much longer you'll be able to hold off. With each forward thrust Aggu hits the perfect spot inside of you, fucking you like he knew your body intimately.

"Aggu," You sigh, "I think-"

"Uh-uh." Aggu tuts, cutting you off, "You can't"

His small command is enough to almost bring tears to your eyes, unsure you could control your impending orgasm at all.

"I'm sure Joost would much prefer if you'd make a mess on him instead," Aggu coos, "Think about that, baby, could you hold on for him?"

You can't make any promises, but an unsteady hum of agreement leaves your lips, your fingers digging so hard into the comforter they ache.

"Don't worry," He breathes, "I'm almost there." The slaps of his thighs against yours losing a rhythm, his strokes becoming long and lazy. You're almost there too, and as you clench your jaw and shut your eyes you can only hope that he finishes quick enough that you don't have enough time to reach your orgasm.

And in almost an instant your wish is granted, Aggu reaching his orgasm with a drawn out groan. He stops thrusting, keeping himself bottomed out in you, his hips pressed right against your ass as he finishes into you, warm ropes of cum coating your walls. He can't keep his balance much longer, nearly folding over on top of you as his chest rises and falls against your back.

Your pussy clenches around him, aching at the now lack of stimulation. Aggu steadies himself, placing his hands on either side of you to relieve some of the weight on your back. As Aggu regains his composure he places small, slow kisses to your shoulders, before slowly lifting him self up.

You whimper as Aggu slowly pulls out of you, feeling his release drip down your folds.

"All yours," Aggu lets out a low chuckle, "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone once I catch my breath."

Lovebirds didn't exactly seem like an apt word for you and Joost now, but still the phrase brings a slight warmth to your cheeks.

Joost chuckles back, his palm finding your cheek,

"You need a minute?" He rubs soft circles to your lips with his thumb.

"N-no," You stutter out, truthfully, needing him as soon as possible. Despite Aggu stopping, you know the second Joost touches you'll be close again once more, and you're desperate for your orgasm.

"Okay" He whispers, "Get on your back, liefje. Lay against the pillows."

You let out a sigh of relief at Joost's preferred position, at least letting you relax into the bed. Your legs slightly confined by your clothing still pulled at your thighs, you slowly crawl up the bed, turning over to lean against the thick, surely unnecessarily expensive pillows.

You return your vision to Aggu once more who's slipping his belt back through the loops on his jeans, then ruffling a hand through his hair, his composure mostly regained by now. A large grin spreads against his face, "Enjoy your night." He winks towards the two of you, leaving the room.

"Is that Aggu's idea of playing matchmaker?" You let out a tiny laugh. Joost chuckles in return, furrowing his eyebrows,

"Yeah- I-uh think so. Is there a match here to be made?" Joost moves closer to you, a hand pressed against your thigh. His words make you tense,

"I don't know," You sigh, "Was pretty mean of you to ignore me when you got here tonight." You're half teasing, half serious.

"Ignore you?" He asks, an eyebrow raising.

You let your lip fall in an exaggerated pout, nodding.

"Oh," He whines, almost mockingly, "I'm sorry," He shakes his head, "I didn't hurt your feelings." His hand raises higher up your thigh, "Arme meisje." (Poor girl)

His patronization is sweet in an odd sort of way, knowing that beneath his mocking exterior he is actually apologizing for ignoring you.

"Let me make it up to you now, hm?"

"I'd like that." You breathe out, settling further onto the pillows.

Joost smirks, "I'll do that then," His hands finding the waistband of both your skirt and panties, slipping them down the rest of the length of your legs. Once the remainder of your clothes are discarded, Joost works on his own, pulling the white graphic t-shirt he wears slipping over his head. He's just as gorgeous as you remember, wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of his soft flesh. You marvel at his half-naked body, littered with tiny tattoos.

"Come here," You whine, needing him closer.

Joost obliges, leaning forward to hover over you, his hands placed on either side of your body. You're close enough to kiss him now, and you want to, straining your neck to life your head up so your lips can meet his. Joost gets the memo, saving you the strain and lowering his head just enough until your lips touch. You forego small pecks, immediately engaging him in a passionate kiss, one that only riles you up further. You can just barely taste yourself on his tongue, causing you to groan into this kiss as you steady yourself with your hands to push forward and deepen it. His lips are soft against yours, it feels good, you wonder briefly if it would be possible for him to make you cum just by kissing you,

The two of your are already so worked up, wordlessly agreeing to skip the teasing and foreplay as Joost taps your knee, urging you to bend your legs for him. You agree, getting a small glimpse of how sore your muscles will be tomorrow as you move your legs.

Joost breaks the kiss to sit up and watch as he lines himself up with your entrance. He's positioned between your legs, resting on his knees, grabbing the base of his cock.

"Ready?" He sighs, the tip sliding through your folds, causing your body to tremble, pussy fluttering. He only needs a nod from you to begin, pushing into you.

Immediately the pressure is building up inside of you, and with the way that Joost groans above you you know that neither of you are about to last particularly long.

Like Aggu, is first strokes are slow, getting you used to the way you stretch around him. Though it's hard to keep a slow pace as he slips against your walls, slick with a mixture of his saliva, your arousal, and Aggu's release. Soon enough his thrusts build up force, immediately pumping himself into that perfect spot inside you.

You're taken back to that first night the two of you hooked up, his prior experience with you only making him more skillful with his thrusts.

With the pace he builds up with his thrusts, his glasses slip all the way off his face, lightening the dirty moment with a small laugh from both of you as they land on your chest.

"Sorry," He chuckles. You grab the glasses from your chest, gently placing them beside you on the bed.

"Don't be," You grin, "Just a testament to how hard you're working."

And working hard he was, the both of you drinking in the sensation of each other.

"Fuck, liefje," He groans, "You're even better than I remember."

You have to admit you feel the same, as hard as you had tried in the last months to remember the sensation he brought you, nothing could top the real thing.

"Fuck how am I supposed to go back to the Netherlands without this." He cracks a small laugh.

"Guess you'll have to take me with you." You tease,

"Don't tempt me, baby. I'll have you on the next flight out there."

Your briefly imagine the prospect, it was hot, being reckless in such a way, leaving your whole life for some dick, though you couldn't put it past yourself.

With another stroke, your jaw clenches, your body suddenly feeling much tighter than before, a sharp sensation building between your thighs.

"I think I'm close," You're disappointed you aren't able to hold out much longer, but with all the anticipation of the night, you can't exactly blame yourself.

"Good," He exhales, "Good, that's okay, make a mess on my cock baby. I'm close too."

You cannot deny him of that, not when he clearly wants it so bad. His thrusts become more pointed as he reaches his orgasm, they're sharp, and small, barely taking the time to pull out by any substantial length before shoving himself back inside of you. He leans forward a little more, hitting into you at a new angle, the base of his cock dragging against your clit as he pulls out. The newfound sensation is enough to throw you over the edge with ease.

A few pathetic curses leave your mouth, before your vision starts to blur, your orgasm gripping control of your entire body, dulling all of your other senses.

"I'm cumming- fuckfuck." You whine, your pussy beginning to spasm around the length of Joost's cock, gripping him just right to send him into orgasm.

"Shit," He grits, "Me too," His movements sloping entirely as his release starts to pour into you.

Your body trembles under him, tingling with complete and utter pleasure as the two of you both ride out your highs, uncontrollable smiles plastered on both of your faces.

With a few final pumps Joost collapses on top of you, trying his best to keep the full weight of his body off of your chest. Though the weight of him on top of you is comforting, especially as you wrap around your arms around him, his naked flesh sticky with sweat. Despite him being inside of you, you still desire to feel him closer.

A familiar feeling creeps into you, one you cannot tell if it is good or bad, but you know tonight will only force the crush you had developed on Joost in the last year to become more insatiable. You had gotten lucky tonight with Aggu deciding to get between the two of you, but now you needed to figure out on your own how you could possibly make him yours.

"So," You sigh, "Still willing to be my tour guide?"

#joost klein x reader #joost klein x f! reader #joost klein rpf #ski aggu x reader #rpf #joost klein #ski aggu

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