β SYN. even when everything else changes, your childe is still the same. but in between friends and lovers, that's not what you want anymore. | wc. 2765
β CONT. fem reader. modern au (non canon), childhood friends to fwb to lovers, mutual pining. outdoors sex (they're alone dw), cunnilingus, unprotected sex.
β A/N. watched too many old movies for the sake of historical accuracy please praise me
Fridays are for drive-in movie βdatesβ with Childe.
Itβs been a tradition for years by now. Itβs hard to remember when exactly it started, but weekend after weekend, youβd find yourself in the passengerβs seat of his car. The radio delivering lines just a second early from the film on the giant screen.
You were there to see every slow change through the years: The brand of the popcorn stall changing one weekend. Newer, cleaner cars surround the unchanging 2010 model Childe still sports. And sometime along the way, a new ritual forms. You, in the backseats with him.
Day by day, everything feels the same. But you look back, and suddenly youβre at an unreachable distance from the girl that was once βjust friendsβ with Childe, the girl who swore you always would be. Things change, but never his steady hand on your wrist, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles.
Maybe thatβs how you fell into this relationship with him in the first place. All his little habits brought you to the weird in-between you two have that equally settles your more unsophisticated desires, yet fills you with an intimate warmth that youβre not sure is purely physical.
You know what his gesture means instinctively because the routine is familiar. A kiss to your knuckles, an exchanged look, and then youβre straddling his lap while his hands find their place on your body. Wherever makes you gasp and arch and look at him with that haze in your eyes. He adores that look. You know because his lips turn up just slightly when he finally brings it out of you like itβs a personal achievement. Every time.
Itβs subtle enough that nobody else would be able to catch it, but you know him. Memorized all his smallest tells.
βWhatβre you thinking?β He asks in between kisses. Turns out, he knows you that well too. βWhat, are you not feeling it tonight?β
βNo. No, itβs not that.β
He smiles, palm drifting to your waist. βMmm... But youβre still distracted?β He asks, his voice gone softer and quiet.
βTechnically, youβre the distraction. Weβre here for the movie, remember?β You joke, leaning in towards him.
βWell clearly I havenβt been doing my job well enough then.β
His hands slide up your thighs, face buried between your neck and your jaw, still testing your reciprocation with small kisses and bites. When you half heartedly moan, he stops and pulls away from you.
βWhyβd you stop?β
βYou donβt wanna do this.β He answers simply, challenging you to prove him wrong and show some enthusiasm, but you canβt fake something like that. Not when heβs at least half-right. You donβt want to do this with him anymore. Not just this, anyways.
You manage a quiet lie, βI do.β
βNot tonight.β He replies instantly. Then, more understandingly, βTell me whatβs bothering you. You can talk to me, yeah?β
You want to punch him. You want to yell at him and confess and kiss him until youβre both stupid. Instead, you shrug noncommittally, βNothingβs bothering me. I just... Yβknow.β The movie continues playing on the car radio in the background as you gesture with your hands, refusing to put anything into words.
βWell, Iβm not a nice woman.β
Some 1950βs movie. Apparently the very first movie to ever play when this theatre opened, as they advertised it when you came here.
He studies you for a moment longer before nodding. βSure. Yeah, I get it. Youβre not in the mood.β
βReally, Iβm fineββ
βLetβs drive.β He cuts you off.
βAnd because Iβve been in love with you, Iβve gone to quite a little trouble in the past fewββ
He reaches over to switch the radio from the movie to his playlist before the actress can finish delivering her full act. βYou donβt wanna see how it ends?β You ask, but youβre not really talking about the movie.
βIt has a happy ending, right? Thatβs good enough for me.β
β
As promised, he shifts his gear and leaves the theatre, driving you wherever he pleases.
βHeads or tails?β He bumps his elbow against yours, regaining your attention from the window. He thinks heβs more interesting. Yet he canβt seem to keep your eyes on him today. It frustrates him.
βTails.β
βOooo, you sure you wanna pick tails? Thatβs quite the adventure.β He chimes, fishing for more engagement from you. Admittedly, he amuses you enough for you to laugh at his antics.
βWhat about heads, then?β
βAlso an adventure.β He replies, eyes technically facing the road, though heβs got his peripheral vision trained on you. Checking for your reactions and occasionally sneaking in glances.
You poke his cheek and he turns his head to fake bite your finger. βFreak.β You canβt help the affection slipping through the cracks of your tone, not that there was any real way to fight the way he makes you expose any emotion you feel. βTails.β
Tails it is, then.
For a while, he drives mostly silently, occasionally humming along to the music playing. The roads are empty wherever heβs taking you, and itβs already quite far from the theatre. Youβre laying back in your seat, staring out the window. You notice the sky start to light up with tiny bright dots in the dark backdrop of night the further you get from light pollution.
He pulls into a dirt path, the smooth roads roughening as the car shakes in effort to fight the path. You turn to him, a smile on your face despite yourself. βWhere are we?β
βI wanted to show you something new. So you donβt get bored of me so easy.β Your heart lurches at that. Heβs in his own head, thinking youβre getting tired of his presence after so many years by his side. But this βnewβ β this break from the usual you have with him β is just another change. Another change to add on to the rapidly increasing list of changes you have to deal with; the most glaring of which is the true reason for your sudden emotional distance.
Still, he drove for at least an hour for you. The least you can do is enjoy what remains of the night. He leads you out of the car and into what looks like an abandoned building with graffiti decorating the walls. The building itself sits in the middle of an open field, a few warehouses surrounding the area not too far from it. But here, exactly here, itβs only you and him.
You sit yourself on the grass wordlessly, throwing your feet out, and look up to the sky. Every constellation you painstakingly memorized in your attempt to be smarter and better than Childe coming back to you now. βI missed this.β You say without thinking.
βI know.β He sits down next to you, his eyes still on you when you donβt notice it. How long has it been since you went stargazing together? βDonβt quiz me on the constellations now, though. I forgot everything.β You laugh at that, laying your head on his shoulder. Muscle memory. He leans on top of your head in return. Conscious touch.
βItβs okay, they probably forgot about us too.β You whisper, tracing the outline of the stars with your fingers. Millions of people have talked to these very stars in your absence from them. Everything is large. In the midst of it all, you can only take up so much space.
βThatβs silly. Who could forget you?β
You take up all the space in his brain, anyways.
Your heart stutters at his words before your brain can even process it. The worst part is that you know heβs sincere. This isnβt him dropping some line on you to flirt. He means it, he just doesnβt mean it how you wish heβd mean it.
Youβre silent for too long for his liking, and he breaks it by asking what heβs been dancing around all night, βDid something happen between us?β
You tell him what youβve been dancing around all night. βThings are changing too fast.β Even us.
βDo you want to... slow down?β He asks in earnest. There isnβt really a solution to time, though. You wish it would stop altogether.
βI used to think everything would be fine even if it all changes. Or leaves, or grows, or ends. As long as you were there because you can never change. Thatβs how I thought it was.β
His expression breaks your heart even more you can hardly look at him. Heβs there beside you, a frown on his face as he tries to figure out what you mean. βIβm the same. Arenβt I?β
He is, but he isnβt. And worst of all, you donβt know if you can ever be the same now that youβve kissed him, shown him your body, learned all of his. βNobodyβs the same forever. Thatβs what I realized.β You answer softly, trying to minimize the damage of your words. βI donβt hate it. Itβs just confusing.β
For a moment, that admission lingers between the two of you. It takes him a minute to understand. But he does. βTonight is the only night the stars are exactly like this.β You look up at him in curiosity. βRight? Axial precession. You taught me that. The Earth keeps shifting. It takes thousands of years to return to its starting position.β
βMhm. 26,000 years.β
βBut it returns eventually.β You tilt your head as you listen to him, wondering what heβs getting at. βTonight, the movie they played. Hasnβt been played in theatres for decades until tonight. But itβs back again.β His point clicks for you just before he says it. βJust because things change, doesnβt mean it canβt return. Doesnβt mean itβs lost forever.β You have to physically hold in your tears when he says it so sweetly.
βI can always be the Childe you want. You just have to tell me how you want me.β And your Childe is good at making you want him in every way. You try your best to communicate with your eyes what you canβt with words, blinking away your tears. One of his hands slide over your jaw, caressing it with his thumb, barely brushing against your bottom lip. βWhat do you want?β He offers again.
Every thought youβve shoved down and buried resurfaces at the moment, begging to break free. With a shaky breath, you lean into his palm, your own hands clutching at him. βI want more.β
More. The word with a thousand meanings, but only one important one right now.
He closes the distance, his lips desperately finding yours. He kisses you like he means it, how you want him to mean it. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip before diving into your mouth, chasing your breath with all intent to steal it. Meanwhile, his hand snakes around you to lower you onto the grass. Your eyes flit between his eyes, his lips (still slightly wet), and back up to his eyes. From here, he can see the stars directly reflected in your eyes.
You think youβve changed your mind. You donβt want what you used to have with him. You want to keep changing with him.
He treats your clothes with respect when he undresses you only seconds before throwing his, making you laugh at the contrast. Your hand lands on his chest with a playful shove. βIβll pick it up later.β He returns with a playful smile. βI gotta give you βmoreβ first.β
His lips trace down the column of your throat to your shoulders. Then downwards in between your breasts. Your fingers naturally thread through his hair, sighing at all the attention he lavishes you with. He breathes you in, in all your glory before reaching your thighs. He presses a soft butterfly kiss against your pulsing cunt at first, still taking in the sight. Hooking up in his car means he doesnβt get to properly go down on you nearly enough for his liking.
He makes use of this opportunity to tease your folds with his thumb rubbing up and down your slit, watching it react. βDo you realize how beautiful you are?β He breathes out, βHow bad I want you...β He presses his tongue flat against your pussy, then drinks in his first taste. After the first, heβs insatiable, lowering himself for more.
Another drag of his tongue, followed by his lips sucking softly, and then heβs thrusting his tongue into your pussy, swirling it inside. Your grip on his hair unintentionally gets harsher, tugging at the strands, legs nearly closing around his head and trapping him in. He wouldnβt mind. βKeep pulling me in, baby.β He mumbles from between your legs.
βSorryβ fuck.β You shiver. Youβre trying his hardest not to suffocate him, really.
He lifts himself, barely wiping his chin from your juices. βDonβt apologize.β He mumbles before returning to your lips again. Youβre kissing him back, tasting yourself on him and he hums into your mouth like heβs so satisfied with himself.
The weight of his dick is heavy against your thigh, aching for attention that he finally gives it. His thumb presses down against the tip. He hisses at the feeling, then guides himself against your entrance. βMore?β He asks just to confirm.
βMore.β His hips stutter when you answer, and he has to hold himself up to slide in. The pressure of your walls clamping down on the head of his cock makes his head spin before heβs fully inside, still easing his way in. He thrusts forward a few times to let you adjust, and settles inside your cunt nice and snug.
More. Thereβs still that all consuming need for more. Because he doesnβt just want all of you physically, he needs everything that comes with you. He bullies his cock in further like heβs affirming his point to himself. βMy girl.β He practically whimpers, building up the pace of his thrusts. βYou always have been.β Even with the gentleness in his eyes, he leaves no room to argue, and any thoughts you wouldβve had are being fucked out of you anyway.
βBe mine. My girlfriend. Officially.β He pleads with you despite knowing your answer is already a yes. Maybe a part of him just wants to beg.
So you indulge him. Reward his begging with a breathy βyes,β pulling him down to kiss you again. His cock hits that spot inside you when his pace falters again, only half-trying to maintain control at this point.
Every time you close your eyes, it feels like the nerves heβs lighting up in your guts are fireworks that explode under your eyelids. You allow your legs to lock around him this time. When he groans low in your ear, you know he likes it.
Your mewling only encourages his feral behavior further, and he angles himself to hit that spot again. And again, and again, until the heat in your belly tightens.
You try to warn him that youβre close, but he has that smile on his face that tells you heβs reading you already. βBreathe,β Childeβs thumb massages your clit to open you up more for your orgasm, helping you relax through it. βThatβs it, youβre so fucking hot. Cum around my cock, pretty.β He steadies himself inside you when he starts cumming, leaning close and grinding softly as he spills inside you in warm pulses. βL-look at you...β He says in admiration, unable to keep the awestruck stutter out of his voice.
His hand stay on yours even after that, breathing heavy while he starts to ride it out. A hazy gleam remains in his irises. The secret behind them revealed only to you.
Now, you canβt believe you never noticed the way he looks at you after sex. How long have you missed signs like that?
His forehead rests on yours, careful not to crush you with all his weight. βYouβre smiling all stupid.β You canβt help but tease.
βLove makes you stupid.β He retorts, chuckling softly. Another old word in your long history with him being rewritten with new meaning.
Your βnewβ relationship folds itself into the βold.β Not destroyed, but transformed.
Because even though things have changed.
Even though youβre not just Childeβs friend anymore, even though heβs forgotten the constellations you taught him, and even though youβve grown up.
Childeβs lips will always find your knuckles at the end of a movie. And his heart will always find its way back to yours. That will never change.
contents :: fem reader. kazuha (praise, slight body worship, aftercare, L-bomb, mentions of oral) kaeya (teasing, fingering, slight dacryphilia, praise, oral at the end).
KAZUHA thinks youβre pretty under him. with your glossy eyes and soft panting; heβd give you anything you asked for, really. you want his mouth on you? heβs drowning himself in between your thighs. you want his dick? heβs already prepping you carefully. heβs not one to tease.
and if he takes a bit too long for your liking, itβs only because he wants to make sure heβs taking proper care of you β the last thing he wants is to hurt you.
he talks you through it. his head is buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings in between kisses while he works himself in you slowly. he feels like heβs in a dream when heβs finally fully in you, groaning at the feeling.
βyouβre perfect for meβ he whispers against your skin when starts fucking you, building up the pace he knows you love. he doesnβt hesitate to clasp his hands over yours to interlace your fingers, or to connect your foreheads together. he loves the intimacy it offers between the two of you.
he notices your body language change and your eyes grow unfocused from pleasure. βare you close, love?β you pulse around him in confirmation, and a soft smile breaks out on his face. he doesnβt change a thing about his pace or position, wanting to help you chase that feeling.
and when youβre cumming, he finally lets himself go as well. βoh, i love youβ he whispers as he squeezes your hand, smiling at the sight in front of him.
he finds himself collapsed into your chest so you can both catch your breath. his hand is running down your body, leaving small kisses everywhere he can. βdid so well, loveβ he compliments you over and over again until youβre falling asleep against him.
KAEYA enjoys teasing you. heβs never the type to just βstick it inβ. he wants you to want this as bad as he does.
placing two fingers over your pussy, he taps it a few times almost politely just to feel everything. the way your body reacts, the facial expressions, and most of all: your pretty noises. βlook at her, so cute nβ whiny for me.β
so he works you up until youβre almost sobbing. circling around your hole with his middle finger, dipping it in and pulling it out before you have the chance to do anything but gasp. his dick kicks in his pants at how warm you are inside, already imagining how it would feel. but he has patience.
he carefully curves his fingers into you and even he canβt help but groan at how soft it is. and when he looks up, his heart skips a beat. your precious face is scrunched up, hair sticking to your forehead as your chest rises and falls dramatically. he relents. finally, he stops teasing and pumps his fingers at a steady pace.
youβre already a mess by the first few thrusts and it only spurs him on. if anything, seeing you like this made his heart fucking sparkle.
βso good. shit, so good. so pretty.β he places a soft kiss on your forehead as his pace remains unrelenting. βspoiling me like this, baby. what did i do to deserve you?β he speaks mostly to himself when he sees your hips start bucking on their own.
he holds you down with a gentle grip, still showering you in praises, βthatβs it. you can let go, baby. cβmon. let go for me.β
and when you do, heβs immediately on his knees, burying his face in between your legs to reap the rewards of his patienceβ¦
guys it's my first attempt at smut pls don't bully me (i'll cum)......
β CW. fem reader. masturbation, riding, on the table. very light angst.
β A/N. fwb to lovers my favorite trope !!!!!! fuck yea
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley is a born performer. He holds the crowdβs attention from the moment he steps out, guitar in hand. The glitter in his eyes is enough to make any fan in the crowd delusional. Itβs effortless.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who is no stranger to adoration. He receives plenty of fan mail and gifts, hears his name chanted by seas of people, echoed by the media.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley that gets hard when he performs. The way he gets lost in it β the tune, the moment β it makes blood rush through his veins, hormones going crazy. This. This feeling is what he does it all for.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley that used to go home, sweating from his exhilarating but exhausting show to jerk off in the shower. Releasing everything he couldnβt on stage. He takes himself in his massive hand, wrapping loosely around the head and circling his thumb over the tip. He teases himself before pumping, moving his hand down to the middle and back up to the head like heβs fucking something he canβt fit all the way in.
βNgh, fuckβ moreβ¦ Take it. I knowβ¦ you canβ¦ take it.β He whimpers to himself as the water slides down his muscled back while he holds the wall with his other hand. He finally pushes his hand down to the base, shuddering and groaning as he tightens his grip. βGonna cum, gonna cum nβ make a fuckinβ mess on you, baby.β
He thrusts his hips a few times before spilling all over his hands in the shower. He cleans himself off feeling refreshed.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who doesnβt need to jerk off in his shower anymore now that he has his favorite groupie. He took you home one night, but you had him hooked instantly. He got drunk off your pussy, watching you bounce until your legs got tired.
You were so pretty on top, holding him down by his well defined chest while riding him. The way your hair fell framed your face so perfectly, and your nails scratched his skin in a way that drew sounds from him he didnβt know he was capable of making. Youβre an angel, all things considered.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who asks for a good luck kiss before he performs. And smiles when you intentionally miss his lips and kiss his cheek instead. βYouβll get a real one if you perform well.β
βIβll get more when I perform well.β He promises to you, returning your kiss by giving you one on your forehead.
And Wriothesley is good at keeping promises. Because he plays the shit out of his guitar, his stage presence and passion unmatched. And he gets his kiss. And more.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley whoβs already kissing you before he takes his stage outfit off, hands on your hips. You know he gets excited after a show, adrenaline still shooting through him. Though, your presence has an equal effect on him these days.
βMh, fuck, slow down,β you giggle in between kisses. His hands travel down your thighs and he hoists you up onto the makeup table in response, smiling into your lips.
βCanβt wait to be inside you. Can I?β He asks, a dazed smile on his face. You hate that he looks so lovesick, so cute. He parts your thighs by positioning himself in between them, but stares at you for permission. βI was good today, wasnβt I? You watched me? Got so hard thinking of you during our last songβ¦ Iβm probably already leaking right now.β He pleads with you, probably unaware of how desperate he sounds when heβs like this.
You free him of his torment, taking him out of his stage clothes and already wrapping your hands around his cock. He sighs in relief, resting his head at the crook of your neck and resting his hands on either side of your legs. βW-wait.. Let me prep you firstβ¦β
You shh him before he can finish offering, βI think Iβve memorized your size by now. Plus,β you trace a finger down his chest, βwatching you perform excited me too. Iβm already so wet.β
He groans, lifting his head to see you slip down your underwear. βAre you sure? I enjoy eating you out, too. Iβm impatient but never enough to forget about you.β
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley whoβs being too sweet now. Like he always is. Like he forgets youβre not dating and this isnβt anything serious and it probably never will be. But heβs caring anyways, just because thatβs who he is.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer to you so he gets the message. He presses another messy kiss to your lips before guiding his dick inside you.
Heβs still gasping at how warm and soft you are. His forehead rests against yours as he pants, taking a moment to feel you pulse around him. βThought I was gonna cum in my pants thinking about this. Shit, my memories donβt even compare.β He mumbles, half to himself.
He starts thrusting, one hand on the mirror behind you and the other on your thigh. He lifts your thigh just slightly to get a better angle but makes sure it isnβt too uncomfortable for you.
βF-feels like youβre takinβ me straight to heaven, angel. This pussy is heaven.β
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who keeps talking like his life depends on it. Speaks like heβs writing his next song while inside you. You didnβt know about his unreleased collection of tracks hidden in his computer, of course.
How could he not write about the way you mark him up unintentionally? Youβre as lost in the heat as he is, you donβt even realize when youβre digging your nails deep enough into his skin to leave a souvenir for him.
How could he not write about your mouth growing desperate? You claw at him to kiss you through it, only to moan into his mouth. Which he drinks up eagerly.
How could he not write about how you respond to everything he does. Your back automatically arching into him when he places a palm on your spine, your breaths matching his subconsciously.
And you, on the brink of release but waiting for him because you want to cum together. How could he not write about that?
βLet go, angel. Right there with you. Iβve got you. Iβve got you.β He holds you while you orgasm around his cock, walls fluttering so pretty around him. Itβs all he needs to finish with you, his hips stuttering from the lack of control when heβs buried this deep in you.
Finally, he stills, his hands still on your body. Only now heβs gently rubbing your thighs, working your tense spots. βThank you.β He whispers against your skin drowsily while his cum starts to drip out. βFuck, I love you.β
He doesnβt really know what heβs saying when heβs fucked out like this, but your heart squeezes in your chest at the words all the same. You only smile and brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead as you come down with him.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who wonders why you never say it back. And what it would take to make you.
β SYN. you're just imagining things, right? | wc. 4147
β CONT.Β femΒ reader. modern au (non canon). stalking, manipulation. dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, crying, creampie.
β A/N. halloween/bday flins fic ^_^ concept was inspired when he said he's more used to being the watcher than the watched like ok pop off..
Someoneβs watching you.
You canβt prove it, you just know.
You can always vaguely feel a pair of eyes following you, even though you see nothing when you turn around. Thereβs that everpresent paranoia that you just canβt seem to shake off.
You can tell yourself youβre thinking crazy. Itβs far more likely these are just symptoms of sleep deprivation or an unresolved fear. But you donβt. Because you wouldnβt believe those excuses even coming from your own mouth. So what can you do?
In times like these, thereβs only one person you can seek for support.
Flins remains ever gentle through the phone, his voice still calm and smooth past midnight. βI can accompany you through the night, if it makes you feel safer.β He offers after you finish ranting about your growing fears.
You only told him half of it, worried youβd come across as hysterical. Yet he offers nothing but understanding and comfort youβre quick to accept.
Heβs at your door in no time. Itβs such a relief knowing heβs always there for you when you need him, only one call away. Thatβs exactly what you need right now.
βSorry, again, for calling so late.β
He waves your apology off with a smile, βItβs hardly late considering my usual schedule. Thereβs no need to apologize.β
Your scattered mind clings to his reassurance. You finally have something that feels safe β something that wonβt suddenly jump out and reveal itself as a monster.
Flins stays up with you. He entertains any conversation to keep your mind off the stalker. He indulges your late night ramblings.
For the first time since this fear bloomed within you, you donβt feel like youβre being secretly watched. You feel safe.
Eventually, as the night settles into a low, quiet hum, Flins cautiously prods at the subject. βHow are you feeling now? Still thinkingβ¦?β He trails off, gauging your reaction.
βTonight helped. Thank you.β You supply sincerely, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.
He takes it as an invitation to trail his fingers β featherlight β up your arm, palm settling warmly near your shoulders. He squeezes once. βItβs nothing. Iβm pleased to subdue your worries. If talking would help, feel freeβ¦β
Where do you even begin? Strange things have been happening to you all month.
βI know it sounds like Iβm going crazy, but I swear I keep seeing things from the corner of my eyes. Like thereβs a shadow moving faster than I can catch it.β
He doesnβt dismiss you, even though thatβs what youβre subconsciously waiting for. He rubs his thumb up and down on your arm, smiling at you to continue.
With more reassurance, you continue. βItβs not just when Iβm alone, either. Even when Iβm out in public, thereβs someoneβs eyes following me. And when I walk faster, the presence gets bigger like itβs challenging me.β
βHmmβ¦β Heβs in thought, carefully considering your words to show you heβs listening to your worries earnestly. In the gap between exchanged words, you try to gauge his thoughts.
βYou think itβs silly?β
βNo. Itβs not silly. Itβs perfectly natural to feel fear, and suppressing those thoughts must only be intensifying them.β His expression turns serious, like heβs trying to find an angle at a solution. βWhat would their intentions be, in your opinion?β
That stumps you. It feels embarrassing to admit youβd never stopped to consider what the goal of a potential stalker might even be.
βToβ¦ to scare me?β Heβs asking for your opinion, yet you answer as if youβre taking a pop quiz that heβll be grading based on your evaluation of your own experience.
βPerhaps.β Your unsureness makes him chuckle. Not condescendingly, but to release some of the tension into lightness. βCould it be a prank? Or are you referring to a βpsychological tortureβ kind of scare?β
It feels more menacing than a prank, but it doesnβt feel like theyβre actively trying to hurt you. They wouldβve done it by now if that were the case, right?
βI thinkβ¦ Theyβre still working towards something.β You donβt know what that something is when you propose the theory.
βDo you know anyone whoβd have the motivation to cause you any harm? Mental or otherwise.β
Not to this degree of commitment. You shake your head no.
Finally, after collecting what seems to be all the information he needs, he makes his own suggestion. βItβs possible someone has been stalking youβ¦β He starts, βbut itβs unlikely. Rather, your stress and loneliness have been heightened for some time now, itβs likely the root of your paranoia.β Then he offers, as patient as always, βI can alleviate the latter. After all, you feel so much better with a companion, no?β
Itβs trueβ with him, itβs easy to relax. And when he offers the same explanations you had ruled out, it suddenly seems much more reliable.
Heβs probably right anyways. You mustβve forgotten where you placed your belongings and mistook it as someone else rummaging through them. Youβre too hyper aware of every sound because youβre in panic-mode. In reality, itβs plausible that it was just the wind or some animal. Thereβs no reason to freak out.
So naturally, you begin to rely on him more. Maybe a bit too much. But heβs the only one that gets it, who doesnβt judge, who quietly makes space for you in his life so kindly it doesnβt even feel like youβre intruding.
If your home feels too claustrophobic, he even lets you stay in his.
Except where yours feels suffocatingly small, his feels hauntingly large. The walls are expanded like theyβre trying to take up as much space as possible and the ceilings reach for the stars. It feelsβ¦ empty. At least when heβs not home.
Heβs off for groceries, so youβre left alone. Which is fine, you remind yourself. Heβs helping out as a friend, not a babysitter.
Your favorite room is Flinsβ room. Not because it smells like himβ well, not just because it smells like him. But because itβs the one cluttered room in his house. So much so that the big space doesnβt feel as empty here. His stuff is everywhere; still neat, but lived-in.
And his pillows are so soft, and warm and⦠rustling a little?
You pat your hand against where you felt it again. There it is. Something crinkling beneath where youβre touching.
A paper? It doesnβt wrinkle as much as a fresh one. So heβs been handling it for a while now. That rules out daily reminders since heβd have to replace those with new ones sooner.
Itβs folded, too, from the thickness. Something he finds precious enough to be worth protecting.
Your hand automatically reaches under the pillow cover, fishing for whateverβs inside before you pause for a moment once youβve caught it. This really isnβt right. Flins is so generous. Heβs even giving you access to his whole home. He trusts you. And whatever it is, it must be sentimental enough for him to want to sleep with it.
Yet you repay him by betraying his privacy? The mysterious piece of paper slips between your fingers, and you pull your hand out, deciding not to snoop.
Something about it calls out to you, but you ignore it. You leave his room to dust off the thoughts of betraying your friend.
When he returns, heβs so unaware of your earlier suspicions it makes you feel even guiltier.
βHave you been resting?β He attends to you as soon as he gets home. Then frowns at your expression. βHas βitβ returned?β He assumes.
No, itβs worse, you think. I thought you were βit.β
βNo, itβs fine. Iβm sorry.β
βFor what?β
βForβ¦ worrying you. And taking up so much of yourββ
βIβve assured you, itβs my pleasure to have you around. Itβs much livelier. In fact, I look forward to coming home more now. Perhaps we all need a roommate.β
βFlins.β You sigh. Itβs better to be honest. βI thought something was hidden in your pillows. I didnβt look at it, I swear, but I thought thatβ¦ maybeβ¦β What did you even think? That he was your stalker the whole time? Keeping a creepy collection of your photos in his pillows like some sick freak?
His eyes widen for a moment while he listens to you. Only it dissipates into a small smile soon. βOh, that?β He nods his head to the direction of his bedroom. βIβll show you.β
You try to refuse the offer, but he drags you with him anyways. His hands delicately unfold the paper that was stuck in there, turning it to you.
βIβll admit, itβs embarrassing to show you this.β He hands it to you regardless, a show of his absolute openness.
It was a picture of you, yes. But also Flins. And a few other of your mutual friends. Itβs a picture you took, actually. During one of your earlier days in the friendship. Notably not an unknown shot of you sleeping or something.
It was an outing with several friends. Back then, you were unburdened from your own paranoia. Much more carefree and bubbly.
Flins had maintained politeness with everyone, despite carrying an air of unspoken tragedy.
You approach him when heβs alone from the group for a moment.
βYouβve been quiet tonight.β
βI donβt have much to say.β He answers simply. You take it as a sign not to poke, but you stay by his side anyways. He stares out at the urban scene outside. Fast cars, buildings half lit-up, half asleep, young people laughing with their friends. Much like your other friends inside.
βYouβre always in the clouds.β That comment makes his eyes turn to you curiously. βAt night, I mean. Whenever the light hits right, itβs the same shade as your hair. You ever notice that?β
βI hadnβt.β
βI have.β You smile. βAnd look, the moonβs your eyes. Is that why youβre always looking for something in the sky? Will you find yourself there?β
Heβd never done it with that intention. Maybe subconsciously. But heβd never put it into those words before. βWhat Iβm looking for isnβt there.β He keeps eye contact with you when he says that.
The moonlight hits your face just right. Something about your expression in that moment sticks with him. βWherever it is, I hope youβll find it.β
That night meant more to him than youβll ever know. He expresses it now somewhat sheepishly. βI kept a photograph to commemorate our friendship. It was too gorgeous a night to forget.β Despite his honesty, he seems unsure about your response now: a slight tremble in his hands, worry spelled out with his brows. Heβs scared youβll think heβs weird.
Your frown deepens to a pout. To which he chuckles and waves off, βitβs quite alright. I understand where your suspicions were coming from.β
βYouβre a good person, Flins.β You tell him as you fall into his open embrace. Your head naturally lands on his chest, arms wrapped around each other. Warmth. Gentleness. Familiarity. Thatβs all heβs shown you.
When you pull apart, your eyes scan his before falling to his lips. His eyes follow the same path as yours, your gaze being taken as permission.
βThis is okay?β He asks in a soft whisper. Of course. Heβs the type to ask even when the answerβs obvious.
βMhm.β In the next breath, yours is stolen. He tastes as good as he smells. After the taste, the touch hits you next. Soft and warm. In a sense, youβre learning him all over again like this.
And you are a curious person. You take more, and more, and more. And he lets you collect all the data you want from him.
What else is there to know about his lips? His tongue, his body?
Your hand weaves through his hair, softly gripping it when you get a little too lost in him. He nearly whimpers at that action. You pull away incredulously.
The look in his eyes is dangerous. Hooded with desire that matches your own. His hand lingers on your skin, just under your shirt, walking the line between playing with the fabric and grabbing the flesh that teases him under it.
βIβm not the one in the clouds.β He whispers breathlessly. βI keep seeing you in them. Your faceβ your body.β Itβs like heβs lost one of the many filters he has in place now that youβve both crossed the line that was holding him back. βAnd the moon.. Sheβs you, too. The glow you wear when youβre smiling, itβs so unique to your person.β He confesses, like he canβt help it. The words spill on their own.
He guides you closer to him, until youβre hovering over his lap. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, pulled by his reverent touch.
Heβs on your neck, kissing and biting and sucking like heβs actually trying to consume you. His usual composure left abandoned. βYou corrupt meβ¦β He whispers against your skin, though it doesnβt come out like a complaint at all.
Briefly, you wonder what he means but he pounces back on you before you can think about it too deeply. You settle your weight properly on his lap, just as his hold on you tightens.
Your name leaves his lips in a stuttered plea when you start moving, still fully clothed. The friction, the heat, his breath still hitting your exposed skin. In response, his hands start guiding your movements, setting a rhythm.
The strange look in his eyes only gets crazier. Your pace falters, βFlinsβ¦β
βSlower?β He accommodates by slowing before you even answer, prompting a swift head shake from you. He smiles, loosening his grip on your hips. βUse me.β
Itβs impossible to think when he uses that tone with you. You might as well throw out the last of your hesitation. βIt just.. feels good.β
βYeah?β This was a new Flins for sure.
It hits you then. Suddenly, a sharp bolt up your spine, stiffening your posture and goosebumps raising. The dread you grew accustomed to when youβre not with him is back. But heβs here now, so why now?
Your Flins returns when you straighten your back, almost pulled out of the moment. Within an instant, heβs caring for you like usual. βHey. Is everything alright?β
Nothing technically happened at all, but youβre disoriented all the same.
βWe can stop. Just tell me.β
βNo, no. Itβs not you, itβsβ¦β You gesture to your head thatβs been messing with you, even cockblocking you now. βThat.β
Without any further explanation, he pulls the blanket over you, then pulls it up enough to join you. βThere. Not a soul can see us now.β Heβs trying so hard to make you feel better whenever that random feeling hits. Flins really is a good person.
Something sweet swells in your heart before youβre leaning up to kiss him under the blankets while he holds it over the two of you.
And apart from the constant feeling of being in a horror movie, it feels truly romantic.
Being roommates with Flins is a great deal. Heβs clean, he cooks, and takes care of the house. Only, you catch him touching his lips with a hazy look in his eyes sometimes.
You wonder what he feels. If his recollection of the event matches yours. If heβs kissing you again in his dreamlike state. If heβd go further in that dream. If heβs the same composed Flins you know, or if the feverish desire creates a new him. The one you got a glimpse of that day.
The days leading up to you moving back to your place, Flins is busy with work, but promises to spend the last day devoted to you. With all your things packed (save for a few things that went missing. Thatβs alright, you probably misplaced it somewhere in this huge house), all thatβs left to do is enjoy your final night.
Flins has that covered. He leads you up to the attic, where you havenβt been before to see it decorated with twinkling fairy lights and some candles. Thereβs a blanket in the center with homemade food.
A speaker in the corner plays slow music to accompany the dance he pulls you into.
βItβs been lovely to keep you company.β He starts.
βThis is so sweet,β youβre already pulling him closer into you in gratitude for such a beautiful gesture. βI appreciate everything youβve done for me during my paranoia.β
βI wouldnβt be the man you need if I didnβt.β A step to the right. Then backwards. Swaying with the movements. βIf weβre speaking honestly, Iβm glad you feel safe enough to return to normalcy now. But a selfish part of me wishes I could monopolize your time longer.β
βYouβll still have my time.β
He doesnβt reply immediately, only a lingering hunger ignites in his eyes. βIf itβs appropriateβ¦ Iβd much like all of it.β
It shocks you that he's capable of making such demands of you. Though he makes it sound like a poetic confession.
βHow much until youβre satisfied?β
βHmmβ¦β
βGranted.β You say with a smile before he can make up his mind on an answer.
He breaks eye contact, burying his head on your shoulder while the two of you maintain the rhythm of the song. A shaky breath ghosts your neck; all of it revealing the lack of control he has when it comes to you. βYouβre devastatingly beautiful when you smile.β
βThen look at me.β You urge him with a soft whisper.
βI canβt. You weaken me.β
βFlins.β
βYouβre so closeβ¦ Surely the erratic beating of my heart is enough to have some mercy on me?β
βFlins, do you love me?β
He ignores your question (though the answer should be obvious by now). βPerhaps itβs the sentimentality of the final night thatβs making me act so foolish. I apologizeββ
βI love you.β He finally stops. Pulls his head off your shoulder like itβs painful for him. His eyes have widened in disbelief.
A beat passes before his reply. βStay then. You like it here.β He adds like heβs making a case.
Ignoring all the other factors that make an impulsive decision like that impossible, you simply canβt keep taking from Flins without giving anything in return. βDonβt think about the future so much. We still have tonight.β
That seems to soothe him because he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He trails kisses downwards, mapping out your face with his lips: a light one to your temple, then a firmer one against your cheek. His lips brush over yours in a tease. So you close the distance yourself.
βMay I enjoy this night with you, then?β He asks in between kisses, gently laying you onto the blanket.
You nod, giving him the signal to loosen the restraints heβs put on himself. His hands are on your skin instantly, knees settled between your legs while he hovers over you. His kisses continue their path downwards β paying attention to every detail of you, and murmuring praises that flow from his lips like liquid. βCanβt believe youβre letting me do this to you.β Every word comes out like a prayer to something divine and holy. His hands follow the same trajectory as his lips, holding your thighs apart when he reaches your hips. βNeed these off.β
It takes less than a second for you to agree, helping each other out of the excessive clothes youβre in until youβre skin to skin. Heat transfers from his body to yours, searing through every inch of exposed flesh. You want to calm down, but you canβt. Youβre already squirming and he hasnβt even begun. His hold on your hips helps anchor you down, but youβre still looking at him almost pitifully, pleading with your eyes. He swallows you in a melting kiss. It feels like youβre becoming part of the blanket below you.
One hand dances across your thighs, softly landing on your clit. βTell me how far I can go.β He practically begs. He needs to know your limits now before he slips up and takes all of you.
βI want it. Need it. All of it.β
βAll of it?β He gasps, circling his thumb carefully to stimulate your nerves, βmy light, I canβtβ¦β Canβt keep holding himself back. Youβre telling him this dangerous, dangerous thing. Giving him something he wonβt hesitate to take once heβs sure you mean it.
But youβre feeling hot yourself. You want to cool down, but even more than that, you want to burn. βPlease.β You manage a plea.
With that, he slips a finger into you, finally feeling the intimate warmth of your insides. βSoβ ah β so warmβ¦ So pretty.β He shouldnβt be so selfish, he knows, but heβs already imagining how your gummy walls would suck in his cock if theyβre taking his fingers so well.
You realize he was right. This close, you can hear every beat of his poor lovesick heart. You can make out all the little details of him, actually. His perfect face is dusted pink from the blood rushing through him. His brows are knitted together in concentration, no doubt trying to take all of you in as well. His hair falls messily around you two, brushing against your arm and making you shiver. βIβm aching.β His voice cracks with the strength heβs holding back. Though the ache in him is growing now. Thereβs only one thing that can soothe it.
βLet meβ¦ Let me help.β You offer, and you think he almost cries at that.
βIβll be gentle.β He promises, interlinking his hands with yours to bring it up to his lips. This is him honoring his promise, a kiss to your knuckles as he aligns himself against your fluttering hole, but he doesnβt push himself in right away. His tip catches on your hood a few times, only to thrust outside, catching your wetness along the length of his dick. He pumps himself with his hand to spread the slick before finally slotting himself inside your pulsing warmth. Instantly, heβs hit with a wave of dizziness and has to stop himself just to breathe. βY-Youβre perfect. Every inch. Every breath.β
A thrust deeper, βI could worship you.β Until heβs fully sheathed inside of you. Itβs overwhelming for the both of you, but at least you can say the gnawing ache is finally being satisfied. His hips stutter at first, but he quickly adjusts to attune himself to your body.
You have all night, and neither of you feel the desire to rush this. So he thrusts slowly, inching out slowly, then stuffing his cock back into you. One hand braces himself on the blanket, holding all of his body weight above you while the other remains steadily attached to your hip, rubbing calming circles onto the skin.
The position allows you full range to attack any part of his body you want. You take the liberty of digging your nails into his back every time he thrusts in, marking him in your will.
He canβt get enough. He wishes you could leave your mark on every part of him, preferably where itβs visible. He wishes it could be permanent. He wishes youβd claim him in the most intimate ways possible, until youβve carved yourself so deep into his soul that he canβt remove you from it without losing himself with it. He wishes you could just merge into one.
His thoughts of complete consumption are cut off by you clenching around him, pulling him in even deeper. He whines, failing to maintain the pace he set. βIβm close.β He tries to warn you, but the words sound muffled in his own ears.
Your hands tighten around his shoulders, pulling him down to kiss you. His hand slips from your hips at the sudden movement, catching your hand at the last second to give it a firm squeeze. Your back arches off the blanket, pushing your body closer to his as your release washes over you.
The sight of you in this state pushes him over the edge, softly crying as his cum spills inside you. The tears roll down his eyes onto your cheeks. You can make out the lack of reigns he has on his own breath, too. Heβs a mess. Heβs a mess and heβs making a mess inside of you, too.
It takes him several moments to calm down after that. He kisses his own tears off your cheeks, tasting the saltiness of it mixed with your skin on his lips. His goal tonight was only to convince you to stay longer, but youβve given him so much more than what heβd dare to ask for.
Asking him to live without you now that heβs been buried inside you sounds like deprivation.
Heβs done it once. Heβll find another way to make you stay again.
contents :: fem reader. kazuha (praise, slight body worship, aftercare, L-bomb, mentions of oral) kaeya (teasing, fingering, slight dacryphilia, praise, oral at the end).
KAZUHA thinks youβre pretty under him. with your glossy eyes and soft panting; heβd give you anything you asked for, really. you want his mouth on you? heβs drowning himself in between your thighs. you want his dick? heβs already prepping you carefully. heβs not one to tease.
and if he takes a bit too long for your liking, itβs only because he wants to make sure heβs taking proper care of you β the last thing he wants is to hurt you.
he talks you through it. his head is buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings in between kisses while he works himself in you slowly. he feels like heβs in a dream when heβs finally fully in you, groaning at the feeling.
βyouβre perfect for meβ he whispers against your skin when starts fucking you, building up the pace he knows you love. he doesnβt hesitate to clasp his hands over yours to interlace your fingers, or to connect your foreheads together. he loves the intimacy it offers between the two of you.
he notices your body language change and your eyes grow unfocused from pleasure. βare you close, love?β you pulse around him in confirmation, and a soft smile breaks out on his face. he doesnβt change a thing about his pace or position, wanting to help you chase that feeling.
and when youβre cumming, he finally lets himself go as well. βoh, i love youβ he whispers as he squeezes your hand, smiling at the sight in front of him.
he finds himself collapsed into your chest so you can both catch your breath. his hand is running down your body, leaving small kisses everywhere he can. βdid so well, loveβ he compliments you over and over again until youβre falling asleep against him.
KAEYA enjoys teasing you. heβs never the type to just βstick it inβ. he wants you to want this as bad as he does.
placing two fingers over your pussy, he taps it a few times almost politely just to feel everything. the way your body reacts, the facial expressions, and most of all: your pretty noises. βlook at her, so cute nβ whiny for me.β
so he works you up until youβre almost sobbing. circling around your hole with his middle finger, dipping it in and pulling it out before you have the chance to do anything but gasp. his dick kicks in his pants at how warm you are inside, already imagining how it would feel. but he has patience.
he carefully curves his fingers into you and even he canβt help but groan at how soft it is. and when he looks up, his heart skips a beat. your precious face is scrunched up, hair sticking to your forehead as your chest rises and falls dramatically. he relents. finally, he stops teasing and pumps his fingers at a steady pace.
youβre already a mess by the first few thrusts and it only spurs him on. if anything, seeing you like this made his heart fucking sparkle.
βso good. shit, so good. so pretty.β he places a soft kiss on your forehead as his pace remains unrelenting. βspoiling me like this, baby. what did i do to deserve you?β he speaks mostly to himself when he sees your hips start bucking on their own.
he holds you down with a gentle grip, still showering you in praises, βthatβs it. you can let go, baby. cβmon. let go for me.β
and when you do, heβs immediately on his knees, burying his face in between your legs to reap the rewards of his patienceβ¦
guys it's my first attempt at smut pls don't bully me (i'll cum)......
β CW. fem reader. masturbation, riding, on the table. very light angst.
β A/N. fwb to lovers my favorite trope !!!!!! fuck yea
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley is a born performer. He holds the crowdβs attention from the moment he steps out, guitar in hand. The glitter in his eyes is enough to make any fan in the crowd delusional. Itβs effortless.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who is no stranger to adoration. He receives plenty of fan mail and gifts, hears his name chanted by seas of people, echoed by the media.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley that gets hard when he performs. The way he gets lost in it β the tune, the moment β it makes blood rush through his veins, hormones going crazy. This. This feeling is what he does it all for.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley that used to go home, sweating from his exhilarating but exhausting show to jerk off in the shower. Releasing everything he couldnβt on stage. He takes himself in his massive hand, wrapping loosely around the head and circling his thumb over the tip. He teases himself before pumping, moving his hand down to the middle and back up to the head like heβs fucking something he canβt fit all the way in.
βNgh, fuckβ moreβ¦ Take it. I knowβ¦ you canβ¦ take it.β He whimpers to himself as the water slides down his muscled back while he holds the wall with his other hand. He finally pushes his hand down to the base, shuddering and groaning as he tightens his grip. βGonna cum, gonna cum nβ make a fuckinβ mess on you, baby.β
He thrusts his hips a few times before spilling all over his hands in the shower. He cleans himself off feeling refreshed.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who doesnβt need to jerk off in his shower anymore now that he has his favorite groupie. He took you home one night, but you had him hooked instantly. He got drunk off your pussy, watching you bounce until your legs got tired.
You were so pretty on top, holding him down by his well defined chest while riding him. The way your hair fell framed your face so perfectly, and your nails scratched his skin in a way that drew sounds from him he didnβt know he was capable of making. Youβre an angel, all things considered.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who asks for a good luck kiss before he performs. And smiles when you intentionally miss his lips and kiss his cheek instead. βYouβll get a real one if you perform well.β
βIβll get more when I perform well.β He promises to you, returning your kiss by giving you one on your forehead.
And Wriothesley is good at keeping promises. Because he plays the shit out of his guitar, his stage presence and passion unmatched. And he gets his kiss. And more.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley whoβs already kissing you before he takes his stage outfit off, hands on your hips. You know he gets excited after a show, adrenaline still shooting through him. Though, your presence has an equal effect on him these days.
βMh, fuck, slow down,β you giggle in between kisses. His hands travel down your thighs and he hoists you up onto the makeup table in response, smiling into your lips.
βCanβt wait to be inside you. Can I?β He asks, a dazed smile on his face. You hate that he looks so lovesick, so cute. He parts your thighs by positioning himself in between them, but stares at you for permission. βI was good today, wasnβt I? You watched me? Got so hard thinking of you during our last songβ¦ Iβm probably already leaking right now.β He pleads with you, probably unaware of how desperate he sounds when heβs like this.
You free him of his torment, taking him out of his stage clothes and already wrapping your hands around his cock. He sighs in relief, resting his head at the crook of your neck and resting his hands on either side of your legs. βW-wait.. Let me prep you firstβ¦β
You shh him before he can finish offering, βI think Iβve memorized your size by now. Plus,β you trace a finger down his chest, βwatching you perform excited me too. Iβm already so wet.β
He groans, lifting his head to see you slip down your underwear. βAre you sure? I enjoy eating you out, too. Iβm impatient but never enough to forget about you.β
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley whoβs being too sweet now. Like he always is. Like he forgets youβre not dating and this isnβt anything serious and it probably never will be. But heβs caring anyways, just because thatβs who he is.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer to you so he gets the message. He presses another messy kiss to your lips before guiding his dick inside you.
Heβs still gasping at how warm and soft you are. His forehead rests against yours as he pants, taking a moment to feel you pulse around him. βThought I was gonna cum in my pants thinking about this. Shit, my memories donβt even compare.β He mumbles, half to himself.
He starts thrusting, one hand on the mirror behind you and the other on your thigh. He lifts your thigh just slightly to get a better angle but makes sure it isnβt too uncomfortable for you.
βF-feels like youβre takinβ me straight to heaven, angel. This pussy is heaven.β
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who keeps talking like his life depends on it. Speaks like heβs writing his next song while inside you. You didnβt know about his unreleased collection of tracks hidden in his computer, of course.
How could he not write about the way you mark him up unintentionally? Youβre as lost in the heat as he is, you donβt even realize when youβre digging your nails deep enough into his skin to leave a souvenir for him.
How could he not write about your mouth growing desperate? You claw at him to kiss you through it, only to moan into his mouth. Which he drinks up eagerly.
How could he not write about how you respond to everything he does. Your back automatically arching into him when he places a palm on your spine, your breaths matching his subconsciously.
And you, on the brink of release but waiting for him because you want to cum together. How could he not write about that?
βLet go, angel. Right there with you. Iβve got you. Iβve got you.β He holds you while you orgasm around his cock, walls fluttering so pretty around him. Itβs all he needs to finish with you, his hips stuttering from the lack of control when heβs buried this deep in you.
Finally, he stills, his hands still on your body. Only now heβs gently rubbing your thighs, working your tense spots. βThank you.β He whispers against your skin drowsily while his cum starts to drip out. βFuck, I love you.β
He doesnβt really know what heβs saying when heβs fucked out like this, but your heart squeezes in your chest at the words all the same. You only smile and brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead as you come down with him.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who wonders why you never say it back. And what it would take to make you.
β CONT. fem reader. masturbation, riding, on the table. very light angst.
β A/N. fwb to lovers my favorite trope !!!!!! fuck yea
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley is a born performer. He holds the crowdβs attention from the moment he steps out, guitar in hand. The glitter in his eyes is enough to make any fan in the crowd delusional. Itβs effortless.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who is no stranger to adoration. He receives plenty of fan mail and gifts, hears his name chanted by seas of people, echoed by the media.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley that gets hard when he performs. The way he gets lost in it β the tune, the moment β it makes blood rush through his veins, hormones going crazy. This. This feeling is what he does it all for.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley that used to go home, sweating from his exhilarating but exhausting show to jerk off in the shower. Releasing everything he couldnβt on stage. He takes himself in his massive hand, wrapping loosely around the head and circling his thumb over the tip. He teases himself before pumping, moving his hand down to the middle and back up to the head like heβs fucking something he canβt fit all the way in.
βNgh, fuckβ moreβ¦ Take it. I knowβ¦ you canβ¦ take it.β He whimpers to himself as the water slides down his muscled back while he holds the wall with his other hand. He finally pushes his hand down to the base, shuddering and groaning as he tightens his grip. βGonna cum, gonna cum nβ make a fuckinβ mess on you, baby.β
He thrusts his hips a few times before spilling all over his hands in the shower. He cleans himself off feeling refreshed.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who doesnβt need to jerk off in his shower anymore now that he has his favorite groupie. He took you home one night, but you had him hooked instantly. He got drunk off your pussy, watching you bounce until your legs got tired.
You were so pretty on top, holding him down by his well defined chest while riding him. The way your hair fell framed your face so perfectly, and your nails scratched his skin in a way that drew sounds from him he didnβt know he was capable of making. Youβre an angel, all things considered.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who asks for a good luck kiss before he performs. And smiles when you intentionally miss his lips and kiss his cheek instead. βYouβll get a real one if you perform well.β
βIβll get more when I perform well.β He promises to you, returning your kiss by giving you one on your forehead.
And Wriothesley is good at keeping promises. Because he plays the shit out of his guitar, his stage presence and passion unmatched. And he gets his kiss. And more.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley whoβs already kissing you before he takes his stage outfit off, hands on your hips. You know he gets excited after a show, adrenaline still shooting through him. Though, your presence has an equal effect on him these days.
βMh, fuck, slow down,β you giggle in between kisses. His hands travel down your thighs and he hoists you up onto the makeup table in response, smiling into your lips.
βCanβt wait to be inside you. Can I?β He asks, a dazed smile on his face. You hate that he looks so lovesick, so cute. He parts your thighs by positioning himself in between them, but stares at you for permission. βI was good today, wasnβt I? You watched me? Got so hard thinking of you during our last songβ¦ Iβm probably already leaking right now.β He pleads with you, probably unaware of how desperate he sounds when heβs like this.
You free him of his torment, taking him out of his stage clothes and already wrapping your hands around his cock. He sighs in relief, resting his head at the crook of your neck and resting his hands on either side of your legs. βW-wait.. Let me prep you firstβ¦β
You shh him before he can finish offering, βI think Iβve memorized your size by now. Plus,β you trace a finger down his chest, βwatching you perform excited me too. Iβm already so wet.β
He groans, lifting his head to see you slip down your underwear. βAre you sure? I enjoy eating you out, too. Iβm impatient but never enough to forget about you.β
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley whoβs being too sweet now. Like he always is. Like he forgets youβre not dating and this isnβt anything serious and it probably never will be. But heβs caring anyways, just because thatβs who he is.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer to you so he gets the message. He presses another messy kiss to your lips before guiding his dick inside you.
Heβs still gasping at how warm and soft you are. His forehead rests against yours as he pants, taking a moment to feel you pulse around him. βThought I was gonna cum in my pants thinking about this. Shit, my memories donβt even compare.β He mumbles, half to himself.
He starts thrusting, one hand on the mirror behind you and the other on your thigh. He lifts your thigh just slightly to get a better angle but makes sure it isnβt too uncomfortable for you.
βF-feels like youβre takinβ me straight to heaven, angel. This pussy is heaven.β
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who keeps talking like his life depends on it. Speaks like heβs writing his next song while inside you. You didnβt know about his unreleased collection of tracks hidden in his computer, of course.
How could he not write about the way you mark him up unintentionally? Youβre as lost in the heat as he is, you donβt even realize when youβre digging your nails deep enough into his skin to leave a souvenir for him.
How could he not write about your mouth growing desperate? You claw at him to kiss you through it, only to moan into his mouth. Which he drinks up eagerly.
How could he not write about how you respond to everything he does. Your back automatically arching into him when he places a palm on your spine, your breaths matching his subconsciously.
And you, on the brink of release but waiting for him because you want to cum together. How could he not write about that?
βLet go, angel. Right there with you. Iβve got you. Iβve got you.β He holds you while you orgasm around his cock, walls fluttering so pretty around him. Itβs all he needs to finish with you, his hips stuttering from the lack of control when heβs buried this deep in you.
Finally, he stills, his hands still on your body. Only now heβs gently rubbing your thighs, working your tense spots. βThank you.β He whispers against your skin drowsily while his cum starts to drip out. βFuck, I love you.β
He doesnβt really know what heβs saying when heβs fucked out like this, but your heart squeezes in your chest at the words all the same. You only smile and brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead as you come down with him.
ROCKSTAR!Wriothesley who wonders why you never say it back. And what it would take to make you.
contents :: fem reader. kazuha (praise, slight body worship, aftercare, L-bomb, mentions of oral) kaeya (teasing, fingering, slight dacryphilia, praise, oral at the end).
KAZUHA thinks youβre pretty under him. with your glossy eyes and soft panting; heβd give you anything you asked for, really. you want his mouth on you? heβs drowning himself in between your thighs. you want his dick? heβs already prepping you carefully. heβs not one to tease.
and if he takes a bit too long for your liking, itβs only because he wants to make sure heβs taking proper care of you β the last thing he wants is to hurt you.
he talks you through it. his head is buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings in between kisses while he works himself in you slowly. he feels like heβs in a dream when heβs finally fully in you, groaning at the feeling.
βyouβre perfect for meβ he whispers against your skin when starts fucking you, building up the pace he knows you love. he doesnβt hesitate to clasp his hands over yours to interlace your fingers, or to connect your foreheads together. he loves the intimacy it offers between the two of you.
he notices your body language change and your eyes grow unfocused from pleasure. βare you close, love?β you pulse around him in confirmation, and a soft smile breaks out on his face. he doesnβt change a thing about his pace or position, wanting to help you chase that feeling.
and when youβre cumming, he finally lets himself go as well. βoh, i love youβ he whispers as he squeezes your hand, smiling at the sight in front of him.
he finds himself collapsed into your chest so you can both catch your breath. his hand is running down your body, leaving small kisses everywhere he can. βdid so well, loveβ he compliments you over and over again until youβre falling asleep against him.
KAEYA enjoys teasing you. heβs never the type to just βstick it inβ. he wants you to want this as bad as he does.
placing two fingers over your pussy, he taps it a few times almost politely just to feel everything. the way your body reacts, the facial expressions, and most of all: your pretty noises. βlook at her, so cute nβ whiny for me.β
so he works you up until youβre almost sobbing. circling around your hole with his middle finger, dipping it in and pulling it out before you have the chance to do anything but gasp. his dick kicks in his pants at how warm you are inside, already imagining how it would feel. but he has patience.
he carefully curves his fingers into you and even he canβt help but groan at how soft it is. and when he looks up, his heart skips a beat. your precious face is scrunched up, hair sticking to your forehead as your chest rises and falls dramatically. he relents. finally, he stops teasing and pumps his fingers at a steady pace.
youβre already a mess by the first few thrusts and it only spurs him on. if anything, seeing you like this made his heart fucking sparkle.
βso good. shit, so good. so pretty.β he places a soft kiss on your forehead as his pace remains unrelenting. βspoiling me like this, baby. what did i do to deserve you?β he speaks mostly to himself when he sees your hips start bucking on their own.
he holds you down with a gentle grip, still showering you in praises, βthatβs it. you can let go, baby. cβmon. let go for me.β
and when you do, heβs immediately on his knees, burying his face in between your legs to reap the rewards of his patienceβ¦
guys it's my first attempt at smut pls don't bully me (i'll cum)......
romaincrisis
amandla
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