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#but the image is still soft and glowing
krmayerillustration · 2 months
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Kodama in the forest, with the Great Forest Spirit walking quietly behind them. Growing, private things, with no mind to keep the scars of war.
On Etsy
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littlexdeaths · 19 days
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i get off - e.m.
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perv eddie munson x perv fem reader
you don’t know that i know, you watch me every night…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), eddie is lil peeping tom but reader loves it, they both steal each other’s shit, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating, choking, spanking, dirty talk, mean!dom eddie, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, squirting, they both are nasty freaks
a/n: this is another edit and repost from my old account. it’s one of my favorite fics so i had to move it over here. enjoy freaks xx. 😘
based on i get off by halestorm
word count: 3.8k
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you’re sprawled out on your bed, fingers running through your drenched folds. clad in only an oversized iron maiden t-shirt and a pair of knee high socks, you’re everything he’s ever wanted. plucked directly out of one of his dirtiest fantasies.
you can feel his eyes on you, you always do.
not that he realizes that.
and while you’ve lived barely ten feet apart for your entire lives, eddie has never had the courage to make a move.
so he settles for this— watching you through his bedroom window.
fantasizing that the delicate fingers now dipping inside you were his. and the fist currently wrapped around his thick cock was smaller, softer. yours.
the first time he witnessed you like this it was a complete accident.
you had been pent up all day, and didn’t think to shut your bedroom curtains before slipping your hand inside your panties. the bedside lamp bathing your room in a muted yellow hue. eddie had been working on a new song, guitar perched on his lap.
he was frustrated with trying to string together this new melody, glancing up in utter annoyance. that is until his gaze drifted towards the window, his eyes widened and his cock stirred in his jeans.
you looked beautiful, you always did. however this was the most vulnerable state you could be in, and the fact that he got to witness it— made you all the more enchanting to him.
he’d be embarrassed to admit that watching you touch yourself made him cum in his jeans, completely untouched. and that first time you were none the wiser, not noticing the dark eyes that were trailing your figure. but once eddie had gotten a taste he couldn’t get enough.
eagerly waiting by his bedroom window to enjoy his new favorite nightly program… you.
you weren’t sure exactly how long he’d been doing it for, but the night you caught him in the act, it awoke something within you. while eddie made sure to keep his bedroom light off, the moonlight was not on his side that night.
it had filled his room in a soft white glow, highlighting his pale skin. his naked form perched on the edge of his unmade bed, stroking his shaft in tandem with each thrust of your fingers.
his moans are what gave him away, as your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure. but he’d gotten a little too carried away, thinking about how pretty your pussy would look stuffed full with his cock.
the thin walls of the trailer doing nothing to conceal his sounds. when your eyes finally opened, you were met with the most glorious sight you’ve ever seen.
eddie fucking himself into his fist, his head tilted back as he spilled all over his ringed fingers. the image alone had your eyes rolling back, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. one of the most intense you’ve ever had, and from that night on you always kept your curtains open.
desperately chasing that euphoric feeling again.
while you didn’t always see him, you knew he was there. the feeling of his greedy eyes on you was enough to have you cumming harder than you ever have in your entire life. your whimpers were muffled but still rang through his ears as he’d make a mess all over his hand and chest.
different images of you— on your knees, on top of him, taking you from behind, or his favorite with his head buried between your thighs.
it was slowly driving him crazy, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of you. he needed more. he quickly found himself staring out his window any chance he could. gazing longingly as you floated around your bedroom.
he watched you change, get ready for the day, study with your college textbooks. your pencil resting in between your teeth. eddie knew it was wrong, that if you ever found out you would be revolted.
if he only knew it was the exact opposite, and how you couldn’t finish without feeling his eyes on you. but you also needed more, desperate to feel his weight on top of you. his mouth trailing over your skin, his cock stretching you out perfectly.
so you became bolder, going as far as to leave your bedroom window open. letting your moans drift through the night air, teasing him further.
and when you noticed some of your panties had gone missing it only heightened your desire for him. knowing he was in your room, touching your things… holding your panties up to his nose as he came all over himself.
grunts of your name escaped his pouted lips, and his left yours as you drenched your fingers. but it wasn’t enough.
you needed him.
fueled by your insatiable lust you found yourself gazing at him more and more. as he sat on his messy floor, playing guitar or working on a dnd campaign. focusing intently on his fingers, and imagining just how good they would feel inside you.
but your favorite was when he was fresh out of the shower. his dark curls were drenched, water dripping down his inked chest. the patch of hair that disappeared beneath his towel drove you absolutely mad.
so you took a play out of his own book, sneaking into his room while he was working at benny’s. or coming home late from a gig at the hideout, surrounding yourself in everything that was so distinctly eddie.
eddie honestly wasn’t concerned when a few of his shirts had gone missing. or a pair of his cum stained boxers, a guitar pick… as he lost things all the time. he simply chalked it up to his forgetful nature, either he misplaced them or lent them to someone.
that is until tonight, as he peered through your window for what felt like the millionth time. his heart was in his throat as he instantly recognized the iron maiden shirt adorning your frame as his.
the realization dawns on him that you knew exactly what he’d been doing this whole time… and instead of being disgusted or upset, you liked it. enough so that you began doing the same thing to him.
that epiphany made any reservations or fears he still had fade into nothingness. the male decided that he couldn’t sit back and only watch you anymore.
he had to have you.
the brunette rose to his feet, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his long legs before slipping out of his bedroom window. quickly dropping onto the ground as he walks the short distance to your adjoined trailer.
his large hands grip the bottom of the window sill, pushing it open the rest of the way before he’s hoisting himself through it. a small gasp leaves you as he tumbles inside and onto your bedroom floor.
eddie is quick to get back on his feet, as you eagerly eye the obvious tent in his gray sweats. licking his plump lips as he sizes you up. he stalks forward like a predator, slowly crawling onto your bed and between your spread legs.
the male grabs your wrist, coaxing your fingers out of your drenched cunt. raising them up to his mouth, slipping them between his lips with a deep groan. “such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
for once you’re speechless, his actions jumbling your already fuzzy thoughts. you never imagined he’d actually come through your window, like you’d been dreaming about for weeks.
“speak for yourself munson…” your confidence suddenly comes rushing back, pushing your fingers deeper into his mouth. feeling your wetness pooling onto the bed sheets as he swirls his tongue around them.
“guess we’re both a little dirty, huh baby?” eddie chuckles as he removes your fingers from his mouth, now leaning over you.
letting yourself fall back against the pillow, his face mere inches from yours. this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to him, now noticing the light freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose. the dimple that indents his cheek as he smirks down at you, little things that you found utterly endearing.
his hands begin drifting down your sides, his smirk only widening as you shudder beneath him. “is that what does it for ya? you like being watched sweetness?” he grips the fabric of his shirt, starting to push it up your torso.
you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. “i get off on you…” you slowly trail your lips up his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto his pale skin. the male letting out a husky moan as you nip at his ear, “getting off on me.”
eddie curses under his breath before he’s pinning you down against the mattress, his lips crashing against yours. your fingers tangle in his wild curls, kissing him back just as forcefully. all the pent up sexual tension and desire now spilling from both of you, as his hips rut into yours. feeling his hard length pressing onto your thigh, moaning into his mouth.
your impatience seems to get the better of you as you grip onto one of his wrists, guiding his large hand in between your thighs. a not so subtle way of telling him exactly what you wanted, the male nipping at your lower lip before he’s leaning back onto his knees.
spreading your thighs even wider, as his dark eyes zero in on the mess between them. his fingers dip between your folds, gathering your sticky nectar on the digits. swirling them around your swollen clit before moving lower.
the metalhead teases you as he circles the tip of his middle finger on your entrance. barely pushing it inside you before removing it, a wet squelch filling the room. “oh listen to her purr for me baby… you want my fingers inside you?”
you nod frantically, lifting your hips up in an effort to get him closer to where you needed him. but he pulls them away immediately, causing you to whine from the loss. eddie grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together as he meets your hooded gaze. “i asked you a question, sweet cheeks.”
he watches as your eyes glaze over more, the dominance he was exuding turning your brain to mush. “and i expect an answer, or is that pretty little head of yours too fucked out for me?” his tone is condescending, borderline rude but it only seems to fuel the fire in between your legs.
you let out a soft whimper, the male letting go of your cheeks to trail his sticky fingers down your jaw.
“need your fingers eddie…” the male chuckles, wrapping his hand around your neck. hovering his face over yours, his thumb stroking the column of your throat.
“need them where, hm?”
you’re quickly becoming impatient, and he can tell from how your lips jut out into a pout. thighs closing in around his own, in an attempt to feel some kind of friction.
“come on now… don’t ya wanna be a good girl for me?” he can see the effect those words have on you, your pupils dilating and your breath hitching in your throat.
“put them inside me.”
while your tone is meant to be demanding, it comes out as more of a plea than anything else. your heart is racing in anticipation as his fingers trail down your stomach. cupping your cunt in the palm of his hand, “and what do good girls say?”
you now realize your mistake, the male raising a brow as he awaits your answer. “please touch me.” eddie is quick to reward you, plunging two fingers into your awaiting heat.
“see? now you’re learning,” another string of curses leaves his mouth as your walls tighten around his fingers and a high pitched moan falls from yours.
“shit sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight.” he curls the digits up, watching in awe as your back arches off the mattress.
“fuck i need to taste you,” he mumbles more to himself as he lays between your thighs. his tongue darting out, encircling your clit with an urgency you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.
the noises you’re making are music to his ears, and while he’s heard them before— you’ve never sounded quite so needy. pride blossoms in his chest knowing it was because of him, you needed him. he was making you feel this good.
your thighs begin to tremble as he increases the pressure of his tongue, pumping his fingers faster.
“m-more need more.” while eddie wanted to reprimand you for not using your manners, he’s been waiting to have you like this for far too long.
but he’d make sure you didn’t forget next time… if there was a next time. he hoped there would be.
he slips a third finger inside you, the long, thick digits reaching places you never realized existed until now.
and now that you knew what they felt like, your own would never suffice again.
“aww pretty thing, you gonna cum?” he chuckles mockingly as the sound vibrates against your core.
the feeling only aiding in bringing your release that much closer, as your eyes flutter shut. a harsh slap on your thigh has them flying back open, your eyes meeting his as he looks up at you from his position between them.
“eyes on me,” his tone is stern, commanding as his tongue returns to assaulting your swollen bud.
as you start to grind your hips up against his mouth, it pushes his fingers even deeper inside you. hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out a broken, “oh god, please.”
eddie hums against you, increasing the speed of his fingers. “i prefer master… but god has a nice ring to it.” if you weren’t on the brink of an orgasm you might have found that funny, not registering his soft laughter as he sucks harshly on your clit.
the sensation is what finally sends you over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his head and trapping him there.
not that he would ever dare complain.
once you settle back into the mattress is when he pulls away, crawling back up your body towards you. your excitement covers his chin in a light sheen, now tasting yourself as he kisses you with a bruising force.
you reach for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his legs. feeling his cock rubbing against the bare skin of your thigh, and you want nothing more than to feel it hard and heavy on your tongue.
“wanna taste you too eds,” you whine as he trails his lips across your jaw, sucking onto your skin. as much as he would love to have you gagging on his cock, his impatience had reached its peak.
“next time sweetness… need to be inside you.”
you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. the promise of a next time making your heart flutter beneath your ribs.
eddie unwillingly untangles himself from you, now standing at the edge of the bed to remove his sweats. his cock stands at full attention as you sit up, eagerly crawling towards him. your mouth waters at the sight, finally able to admire him how you’ve been dying to for the last few weeks.
you wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft, glancing up at him as you lick up the pre-cum that was smeared across his pink tip. the male grips a fistful of your hair in his hand, tugging you off his dick as a small whimper leaves you.
“hands and knees— now.” he nearly growls at you, releasing you as you continue to look up at him in a daze.
“don’t make me repeat myself baby.”
and as much as you would love to test how far you could push his buttons, that would be saved for a later date. so you do as you’re told, crawling away from him now on your hands and knees.
feeling his eyes trailing over the plush skin of your ass, “take a picture munson, it’ll last longer.”
what you don’t expect is to hear the snap of your polaroid camera, whipping your head around to see the shit eating grin he was sporting. setting the camera and picture down on your dresser once more, “just following orders sweet cheeks.” he chuckles, crawling onto the bed behind you.
eddie lands a firm smack on your ass, his chest now draped across your back. his hot breath fanning over your neck as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “face the mirror, you aren’t gonna wanna miss this baby.”
your thighs clench together, now turning to face the full length mirror that stood across from your bed.
you glance at yourself briefly before your eyes trail upwards, now meeting his in the reflection. a cocky grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his hands now roaming the full expanse of your ass.
feeling the tip of his cock brush against your core, pushing your hips back so you could feel more. eddie’s calloused hands grip you tightly, stopping any further movement on your part.
“don’t be fucking greedy, you’ll take what i give you.”
you squeak out a small apology, keeping your eyes focused on him as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. gasping once he slowly pushed himself into your awaiting heat, a strangled moan tumbling from his lips.
his eyes squeeze shut as he bottoms out, his balls flush against the curve of your ass. you feel incredibly full, the stretch so divine it makes your head spin.
“eddie please.” you mewl, watching as his brown eyes meet yours.
desperate for him to do something— anything.
eddie’s rings dig into your hips, his eyes glancing down to watch as he slides his cock back out. groaning as you’ve already coated his length in your arousal, a sight he’d only ever seen in his dreams.
“gonna give you everything,” he grunts before slamming himself back inside, knocking the air out of your lungs as you fall forward onto the mattress.
you grip the edge of it for support as he continues to rock his hips into yours, this new angle allowing him to rub against your sweet spot perfectly. keeping your eyes locked on the mirror, the image of him behind you— thrusting into you will be seared in your memory forever.
the black ink swirling on his skin, the light sheen of sweat on his chest. the veins in his forearms that are much more noticeable as he grips you tighter. he looks more like a greek god than anyone had a right to.
your jaw is slack, mouth hanging open as you continue to watch him. the little ‘uh uh uhs’ that leave your lips mix with the sound of your skin slapping together. now filling the quiet space of your bedroom.
“taking me so well— this pussy was made for me.”
eddie moans, completely distracted by the way your pussy flutters around him. the creamy ring that’s formed around the base of his cock expanding with each thrust of his hips.
“look at me,” you whine, that signature smirk returning to his features as he meets your eyes in the mirror once more.
“aww poor little baby,” he coos, slipping his hand between your thighs and landing a harsh slap on your already sensitive bud. “always need my eyes on you… don’t you?”
a string of curses slips past your lips as you nod your head. “need it,” you whimper as his calloused fingertips circle over your clit. “need you.”
your words seem to have quite the effect on him, a low growl leaving him as he fucks into you even harder.
“what do you need me to do, pretty girl? tell me.” it takes you a minute before you can answer him, the male having fucked any coherent thoughts from your head.
“n-need it inside.” is the best you can manage, but eddie understands all too well.
it’s what he had hoped you would say, “yeah, you want me to fuck you so full? ruin this pretty little pussy for anyone else?” your eyes roll back in your head, as the male wraps his other hand around your throat.
he handles you like a rag doll as he pulls you up, your back now flush against his sweaty chest. the action forces his cock even deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix. his hand that was wrapped around your throat is now cradling your jaw, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.
your half lidded eyes watch as he leans forward, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, “this pussy is mine now, got that sweetness?”
it’s suddenly all too much, the rubber band in your middle finally snaps as your body trembles in his embrace. cries of his name and ‘yours yours yours’ tumbling from your mouth.
the brunette watches in amazement as you drench his thighs, your bed sheets— the pressure almost forcing him out completely.
the metalhead curses as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the wet squelching of your pussy finally sending him over the edge. grunting as he pumps you full of his cum, your body falling limp against his chest.
you’re both panting as you come down from your highs. his touch on your hips is much more gentle than before as he coaxes you onto your back.
you hum contently, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion hits you. eddie cradles your face in his palms, pressing soft kisses to each of your eyelids before his touch suddenly disappears.
your eyes fly open in alarm, reaching out for him as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “don’t worry… you aren’t rid of me just yet.”
eddie chuckles as he spreads your thighs apart, his dark eyes watching intently as his cum drips out of you. pooling onto the bed beneath you, making an even bigger mess of your sheets.
his head dips lower, inhaling as he gathers the mixture of both your arousal onto his awaiting tongue. moaning before diving in deeper, “shit, we taste good together.”
“too much,” you whimper, wiggling your hips away from his eager mouth due to the oversensitivity.
eddie presses a kiss to each of your thighs before he joins you once more, collapsing next to you with a boyish grin on his face. you reach out to trace the stubble along his jaw, your fingertips brushing over his plump lips.
you feel him release a shaky breath against your fingertips, the look he’s giving you makes your stomach do a little flip.
“so… is it too late to ask you out on a date?”
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snapshot.
Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K
you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.
(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼
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The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.
You sigh as you open your eyes.
The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.
Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.
And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.
So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.
Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,
“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.
“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”
He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”
Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.
Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”
“You want a photo of my boobs?”
“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.
Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.
“The hair,” he directs.
This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.
When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.
A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.
You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.
“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”
You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.
His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.
"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."
The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.
And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.
His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.
His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.
“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”
The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.
"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.
You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.
"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."
Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.
"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.
"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.
Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.
Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.
You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.
You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.
But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.
You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.
You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.
"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."
"Please, come here."
"Not yet."
"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"
"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."
You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.
Climax is imminent.
You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.
When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.
"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”
“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”
As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.
As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.
“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”
Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶
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ohproserpine · 3 months
Text
vi. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, death, hunting, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder, heated scene (making out)
˚୨୧₊♱
You never really liked cars.
The first time you had ridden in one was in the 1930s.
It was after one of your shifts, the wet streets illuminated only by the flickering glow of the rusting lampposts. There you stood, still in your glad rags and wrapped in a coat, the misty drizzle kissing your face. Alastor arrived a few minutes later with a honk of his horn, surprising you with a ride home in his latest purchase—a stunning red car with a sleek roof that gleamed in the dim light, its long, sweeping fenders and rounded body cutting a striking figure against the darkness of the night.
As you got into the car, excitement tingled in your veins, eager to experience the wonders of modern transportation. However, the thrill quickly turned to fear as the speeds increased, and your husband, the ass he was, seemed to enjoy nothing more than pushing the accelerator and hearing your horrified screams. Each time the car accelerated, you found yourself clinging onto him for dear life, the rush of wind slamming against your flushed face, your heart racing in your chest.
Since then, you swore never to get into a car again, preferring the safety of solid ground beneath your feet, the memory of that terrifying ride haunting your thoughts whenever you heard the roar of an engine.
Now, standing outside and shivering in the cold, you watched as a long royal blue limo pulled up before you. The sleek vehicle gleamed under the streetlights, its polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the surrounding city. The doors, adorned with gold accents, were automated and opened up for you, revealing a plush interior illuminated by soft, warm lighting. Small steps extended gracefully from below, inviting you to step inside.
Velvette wasted no time and went in first, her stiletto heels clicking against the polished floor as she settled into one of the luxurious seats. Already engrossed in a phone call, her voice echoed faintly through the open doorway, mingling with the low hum of the engine.
Meanwhile, Vox stood by your side, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the pavement. You knew he was making sure you wouldn't attempt to escape, although the thought barely crossed your mind.
After all, where could you possibly run to now? Any endeavor in that direction would likely prove futile and possibly even fatal. The evidence of your soul being sold was clear, evident in the now black color of your sclera.
"Well," Vox drawled, his voice carrying a subtle edge of impatience as he gestured towards the open limousine door. "Aren't you going to go in?"
You hesitated, biting your lip as you reluctantly took a step back. Vox eyed your actions warily.
"Is it safe?" you found yourself blurting out, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
"Is it safe?" Vox repeated with a scoff, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. "Of course it's safe! I made it!"
He pointed to the VoxTek logo on the car—as though he were a seasoned salesman promoting a product. The metal emblem gleamed under the faint streetlights. Yet, rather than assuring you, the sight of the branding only heightened your unease.
Vox noticed the lack of change in your expression and sighed, deciding to take a different approach. With a faint glimmer of empathy, he motioned toward a nearby building which had a large billboard featuring his face and image.
"See there?" he gestured, his tone adopting a persuasive edge. "See what that billboard says? VoxTek is a symbol of power and security. You're in the safest hands possible. This limousine is equipped with state-of-the-art safety features."
His attempt to reassure you only rang hollow in your ears, and despite his words, a sense of unease continued to gnaw at you. Yet, Vox still persisted, his voice softening as he stepped closer to you. You had to crane your head up to look at him while he stared down at you, his figure casting a shadow over your form.
"I assure you," he pressed, his tone gentler now. "You have nothing to fear."
With no other choice but to comply, you reluctantly stepped forward, your movements stiff and hesitant. Vox held your hand as he guided you towards the waiting limousine. As you entered the luxurious interior, the door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing your fate as the vehicle pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the night.
Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of color as the limousine sped through the streets. With each passing moment, the distance between you and Mimzy's torn-down lounge grew.
Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when the limousine finally came to a stop, the sudden silence jolting you back to reality. As the door opened with a soft hiss, you gazed out to behold the imposing V Tower looming before you.
Its grandeur was undeniable, with its towering floors and striking red windows gleaming in the night. At the very top, a massive antenna sat, reaching towards the sky like a beacon, while a studio sign was plastered along the building's front, featuring red lips nestled within the arches of the middle V, an iconic symbol of the entertainment empire housed within.
Vox and Velvette emerged from the limousine, their presence causing a few loiterers on the street to scurry away in fear.
Oh, how you wished you could do the same.
Inside the car, you hesitated, nerves coiling in your stomach as you fidgeted with your hands. Then, unexpectedly, Vox turned to you, his expression unreadable as he extended his hand.
Surprised, you paused for a moment before accepting his hand, allowing him to guide you down the steps. The chilly night air enveloped you as your feet touched the pavement, the distant sound of the limo's engine fading away as it drove off.
Seconds passed, and Vox still maintained his grip on your hand, his hold firm. Confusion flickered in your mind as you turned to him, noticing the irritation in his gaze as he eyed your wedding ring.
"Is there a problem, mister?" you asked as you followed his gaze to your ring.
Vox's expression remained inscrutable for a moment before he finally responded, his tone cool and detached.
"I suggest you ditch that," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's a liability now. Doesn't do any favors for your image, doll."
"But I'm awfully attached. It's…" you began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find a good enough excuse.
You knew all too well the consequences of revealing your connection, especially in your current vulnerable state. The mere mention of Alastor's name could unravel everything, plunging you deeper into this mess. With two powerful overlords and a soul contract hanging over your head like a guillotine, caution was not just a choice but a necessity.
"It's a symbol of your past life," Vox interjected, his voice cutting through your hesitation.
"And we're leaving that behind now." He extended his hand, the glint of his metal claws catching the dim light, mirroring the uncertainty in your expression. "Hand it over."
With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly slipped the ring off your finger, a pang of loss gripping your heart as you handed it to the overlord. Vox accepted it with a dismissive nod before tucking it into his pocket, his attention already turning back to the looming entrance of the V Tower.
As you entered the building flanked by both Vox and Velvette, you were immediately struck by the brash, modern atmosphere that engulfed you. The walls were painted in bold hues of pink and red, illuminated by the glare of oversized LED screens that flashed with images and advertisements for upcoming events. The floor beneath your feet was polished to a sterile sheen, reflecting the harsh neon lights that bathed the space.
Velvette, with her usual air of haughty superiority, led the way to your room, her steps brisk and impatient. She barely spared you a glance as she gestured towards the metal door that stood before you, its surface cold and unwelcoming.
With a swish of her fingers, she conjured an obtrusively bright star decoration on the wall, reminiscent of celebrity door decorations found in Hollywood, with your name scrawled in cursive on its surface.
"Right, if there's anything you need, you just go down to the lobby and find someone named Shalom," Velvette barked, her tone sharp and impatient, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route.
"Say, is there a chance I could lay my mitts on a radio?" you asked, hoping to grasp onto some semblance of familiarity in this alien environment, your eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them.
But instead of a response, Vox began to buffer, his screen flashing with bright neon glitches, while Velvette's lips curled into a sneer, her expression one of thinly veiled contempt and amusement at your request.
"Guess I'll take that as a no then?" you smiled tensely, your attempt falling flat.
To your surprise, Vox shook his head, and his screen flashed back to his face, the glitches disappearing as quickly as they had come.
The TV demon reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek smartphone. Without a word, he plopped it into your hand, and you turned it over, confusion evident on your face.
"A phone?" you said, flabbergasted, your eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. You blinked in astonishment, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you. You were more surprised by the fact that it came from his pocket. Does he keep random smartphones on him at all times?
"Yes, a phone," Vox confirmed with a smirk, a hint of pride dancing in his eyes. "Consider it a courtesy from VoxTek. No need for a radio when we have such sleek products. This is the future! You don't need old shit from the past. Those radios barely pick up anything worth listening to, just crappy, barely audible broadcasts."
"Oh," you said, the air deflating from your lungs as a pang of disappointment settled in your chest. The phone was a thoughtful gesture, but it wasn't going to fix your longing to speak to Alastor. "Well. I suppose I should thank you."
"Don't mention it," Vox replied casually, his demeanor shifting back to its usual aloofness, his tone devoid of any genuine warmth or concern.
With a resigned sigh, you turned and stepped into your new room. You looked around the décor curiously, taking in the sleek modern furniture and it's peculiar design.
Velvette followed closely behind you, her eyes, framed with smoky eyeshadow, narrowing as she regarded you with disgust. The glint of her perfectly manicured nails caught the harsh overhead lights as she folded her arms across her chest.
"Really? A hooverette dress?" Velvette sneered, each syllable dripping with disdain. "You're like a relic from the '40s. Outdated."
You felt a surge of anger at the comment. Sure, you died near the 1940s, but that didn't mean you were outdated. Before you could even muster a response, Velvette raised a hand, and with a flick of her fingers, she effortlessly transformed the fabric of your dress. It rippled and shifted, morphing before your eyes into a pink silk pajama robe, trimmed with a cream-colored fur. She stepped back, a self-satisfied smirk curling her lips as she admired her handiwork.
"Much better," she declared with a clap. "Listen, you're representing VoxTek now. Even when sleeping, we can't have you looking like a washed-up has-been, can we?"
Swallowing your pride, you forced a tight-lipped nod, suppressing the urge to lash out in defiance.
"Yes, ma'am," you managed to grit out, your voice strained. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," she retorted, her tone sharp and dismissive. "I've got a lot of work to do, and you've got a long way to go before I can get you stage ready."
With that, Velvette stormed out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor with each brisk step. As she disappeared from view, Vox leaned in, his shadow casting a long silhouette against the wall. He reached for the doorknob, his fingers gliding over the cool metal.
"Goodnight," he murmured softly, his voice barely audible above the hum of the air conditioning. With a gentle pull, he closed the door with a thud, sealing you in with your thoughts and fears. The latch clicked shut, and you were left alone, enveloped in the eerie silence of the unfamiliar space.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to survey your room even closer.
Your eyes swept over the tall walls adorned with abstract artwork, bursts of vibrant colors contrasting sharply with the subdued hues of the furniture. The wide windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, with skyscrapers twinkling in the distance like distant constellations.
Approaching the plush king-sized bed, you sank into its cloud-like mattress, feeling its comforting embrace envelop you. It was definitely an improvement from Mimzy's lounge. And yet, despite the luxurious trappings, a sense of confinement lingered. After all, a gilded cage remains a cage.
As you assessed your situation, it became clear that you were going to be the star attraction in Velvette's upcoming fashion extravaganza. Her shows were always a hit, and this year's circus-themed spectacle had her buzzing with excitement. The lead model was a singer-actress you'd heard of; you'd seen her the day Mimzy dragged her into the lounge. Pity the poor girl died.
Given the circus motif, it was apparent why Velvette had chosen you. Your background as a singer, coupled with your doll-like appearance, made you the perfect fit for the role.
The best course of action now was to play it safe. Going along with her plan was sure to draw attention, from the lowest imps to Lucifer Morningstar himself. Your face was bound to be plastered on every screen in the infernal realm, broadcasted to demons and damned souls alike. Even with his hatred for the picture shows, Alastor would have to be both blind and deaf to miss this.
He would come for you, you knew it deep in your bones, and yet a pessimistic voice in the back of your head whispered doubts.
Did you even deserve to be taken back after all of this?
With these thoughts weighing heavily on your mind like an anchor dragging you into the depths, you closed your eyes, seeking solace in the darkness behind your lids. But sleep remained elusive, evading your grasp.
As the night wore on, exhaustion crept over you like a heavy fog, its tendrils enveloping you in a suffocating embrace. Despite the turmoil raging within, your body succumbed to weariness, and gradually, you slipped into your dreams.
˚୨୧₊♱
Both you and Alastor embarked on a slow journey through the darkened streets of Louisiana, the car's headlights cutting through the enveloping gloom like beacons. Carefully navigating the labyrinthine city, you avoided the occasional patrol car with its blinding flashlights, skirting through shadowed alleys and side streets to evade detection.
Finally reaching the outskirts of town, where the forest awaited, Alastor brought the car to a halt, the engine's low hum fading into silence. Turning to you, he noticed the fear etched on your face, your wide eyes reflecting the dim glow of the dashboard lights.
With a tender touch, Alastor took your face in his hands, calling for you. "Cher?"
You turned to him, your lips parting slightly as tears welled in your eyes. Alastor's touch was feather-light as his fingertips traced a delicate path along the curve of your cheek. With a gentle brush of his thumb, he coaxed your eyelids closed. Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving a trail in their wake. As you blinked your eyes open again, you were met with the tender press of his lips against yours.
"We did what we had to do," Alastor murmured against your lips, his voice a low rasp that sent goosebumps dancing across your skin.
With his eyes closed, he leaned in closer, his kiss growing more urgent, almost desperate. You responded in kind, the roughness of the kiss igniting a fire within you.
Feeling his fingers threading through the back of your hair, you whimpered and melted into his embrace, your hands clutching onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his button-up shirt. Alastor groaned in response as he lifted you effortlessly from the passenger seat and settled you onto his lap. Your chest pressed flat against his, the rhythm of your heartbeat syncing with his own.
As the sky grew darker, the moon mingling with the fading hues of sunset, the wind whispered through the open windows of the car, carrying with it the promise of a new beginning.
Alastor eventually pulled away, his gaze lingering on your tousled hair and puffy lips as he leaned back in his seat, taking in every detail of your appearance. Seeing you in such a ruined state stirred something within him.
"Are you ready?" he asked. You nodded meekly in response, your heart racing.
Truth be told, you didn't think you could ever truly be ready for what you were about to do.
Your husband hummed in acknowledgment, allowing you to slip off his lap as he straightened his brown coat, the fabric rustling softly with each movement.
Guiding you out of the car, he then reached into the backseat, retrieving his hunting gun. The metallic click of the firearm being loaded echoed in the quiet night. And you damn near fainted when he handed it to you, the weight of it feeling heavier than you could bear. The metal surface was icy against your palm, and you fought the urge to recoil, but Alastor pressed it firmly into your hand, his touch reassuring yet commanding.
"You'll need this," Alastor spoke lowly, bending down to your height, his glasses slipping further down the bridge of his nose. "Use it for safety. There might be wild animals out."
You hesitated, the weight of the weapon heavy in your hand, but the urgency in his tone spurred you to nod in agreement.
"Do you remember when I taught you how to hunt?" he questioned, slipping on a pair of dark leather gloves he had pulled out of his pocket. His voice was low and smooth, laced with a hint of nostalgia. "You remember how to shoot, no?"
You nodded, eyes still glued to the gun, unable to tear your gaze away.
"Words, cher. Use your words."
"Yes, love," you whispered, finding your voice. Alastor smiled, the rough texture of his glove grazing gently against your cheek as he pressed his hand to your face one last time before stepping away.
Your husband made his way to the trunk of the car, the soft glow of the taillights casting long shadows across the forest floor. With strong pull, he opened it, revealing its contents. Your breath caught in your throat as he retrieved a shovel and a black body bag, the sight sending a sickening feeling through your stomach.
Alastor slung the bag over his shoulder and began walking, his steps confident, as if he knew exactly where he was going. The weight of the bag seemed inconsequential to him, swinging lightly with each stride. There was an odd, almost unsettling look in his eyes as he whistled a tune, the sound echoing eerily through the silent woods. A glint of something primal and untamed flickered within their depths.
Nonetheless, you followed him, drawn to his presence like a moth to a flame.
Trudging deeper, the shadows seemed to grow darker, more menacing. The silence pressed in on you from all sides, broken only by Alastor's whistling and the sound of your footsteps crunching on the forest floor. Each step felt like a descent into madness, the unknown lurking just beyond the reach of your flashlight's beam.
Suddenly, Alastor halted in a secluded corner, where the trees were decaying, their long branches resembling gnarled fingers reaching out for you in the darkness. He turned to you, the dim light of your flashlight reflecting off his glasses, giving his brown eyes an otherworldly glint.
In that moment, illuminated by the pale beam, he looked almost demonic, his features twisted by the play of light and shadow.
"I'll be back shortly, cher," he hummed with a smile, adjusting the bag over his shoulder. You couldn't help but notice a darkened spot on his brown coat, the collar of his white button-up now stained with crimson. "Stay here."
With that, he disappeared into the darkness, his figure swallowed by the shadows of the forest, leaving you alone amidst the looming trees.
Time stretched on endlessly, each minute feeling like an eternity as you stood alone. Faintly, you could hear the distant sound of Alastor's shovel breaking through the earth's surface, its metallic scrape and the muffled thud as it struck the soil sending another wave of nausea curling in your gut, each noise a grim reminder of the task at hand.
All you wanted was to escape, to return to the safety of your quaint house in the city.
More than anything, you longed to open a bottle of whiskey, to drown your fears and sorrows in its comforting embrace. Maybe have a second, or a third, and just forget.
Forget about all of this. Forget it all ever happened. But deep down, you knew that no amount of alcohol could erase the memories of tonight, each image now etched into your mind like scars on your soul.
All of a sudden, a rustling sound behind you sent a jolt of adrenaline through your veins, followed by the distant but unmistakable bark of dogs. The sound seemed to come from all directions, surrounding you in a menacing chorus.
With a sharp gasp, you spun round and round in a whirl, your vision tunneling with fear as you scanned the darkness, eyes wide and frantic. Every rustle of the leaves, every snap of a twig, seemed to magnify the sense of dread that gripped you. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the cool night air burning in your lungs as you struggled to keep your composure.
And then, without warning, something lunged from the darkness, a blur of movement that sent your heart racing even faster. Instinct took over, and without thinking, you raised the gun and fired, the deafening sound reverberating through the silent forest.
You gasped for air, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you found yourself sitting on the damp, muddy ground. The recoil of the gun had sent you sprawling backward, leaving you disoriented and breathless.
With trembling hands, you clutched the gun closer to your chest, the cold metal providing a shaky sense of security in the darkness. Despite the fear coursing through your veins, a surge of determination propelled you forward, your muscles tensed and ready for whatever danger lay ahead. Scrambling to your feet, you pushed yourself onward.
Each step was punctuated by the crunch of underbrush beneath your boots, the sound amplifying in the stillness of the forest. Amidst the shadows and foliage, you caught a blur of brown, relief flooding through you like a wave crashing against the shore.
Oh, heavens, it was just a deer.
As you trudged towards the poor animal, your foot caught on a branch, and you stumbled, the unforgiving forest floor meeting your body with a painful thud. In the fall, your gun slipped from your grasp, skidding off into the shadows.
Wincing, you pushed yourself up to your knees, the earthy scent of decay mingling with the metallic tang of blood. You looked toward the fallen creature, its form now visible in the dim moonlight filtering through the trees. But as you crawled over, dread crept into your heart.
There, lying face down on the dirt, was Alastor, his once-immaculate brown coat now dirtied, blending seamlessly with mud. His glasses lay shattered and discarded in front of him, glinting faintly in the dim moonlight that danced across the forest floor. A pool of crimson blood seeped from his head, staining the earth beneath him.
Your eyes widened with renewed horror as the truth dawned upon you, and you fell onto your back, scrambling away from the corpse of your husband, the damp earth sticking to your palms as you clawed at the ground in your panic.
The bark of the dogs were louder now, closer. Ignoring the dizzy vertigo in your head, you pushed yourself to your feet, your senses on high alert.
You choked out a broken apology but found that you could not hear it, that you could not make any sound at all.
You breathed, it was all you could do, all you could manage at the moment, and with the terrible weight on your chest, even that was made difficult.
What have you done?
˚୨୧₊♱
"Salutations! It's Tom back on the airwaves! Hold onto your hats because we've got some news that'll knock your socks off! Alastor Caron, the big shot radio host and husband of underground singer Dolly, also known as Y/N Caron, has been found pushing up daisies out in the sticks of Louisiana!
That's right, folks, he's dead!
Word on the street is, ol' Alastor met our maker with a bullet to the head in what can only be described as a real tragic whodunit. Sources close to the case are whispering in the wind, suggesting that Dolly herself might be mixed up in this spicy little affair. The coppers found her fingerprints on the gun! Can you believe it?! Stay tuned as we peel back the curtain and spill the tea on this sto—"
You shut the radio off with a frustrated slam of your fist, the sound echoing through the desolate living room.
Eviction papers and newspapers, crumpled and worn from countless readings, are strewn haphazardly across the table.
"Gone Girl," "Husband-killer," "Missing Marionette," "A Doll's Vanishing Act," "Manhunt underway for Suspected Murderer," "Louisiana Radio Host dead; Wife blamed."
The headlines scream, each word a painful reminder of the nightmare engulfing your life.
Empty bottles litter around you, their contents spilled and forgotten, the sharp scent of alcohol mingling with the drowning feeling of grief that permeates the room. Sirens wail in the distance while red and blue lights dance along the walls, cast by the dim light filtering through tightly shut curtains.
As you reach for another bottle, the drinks blur into one another, their labels indistinguishable in the dark room. The burning sensation as the liquid courses down your throat offers temporary relief from the turmoil raging inside your mind, numbing the pain and grief threatening to consume you. Each sip takes you further into a haze.
The room spins around you, items warping and dancing in a twisted mockery of your predicament. There are whispers now, soft and insidious, slithering into your ears like serpents. You try to push away the accusing voices echoing in your mind, drowning them out with your bottle's numbing embrace. But with each passing moment, the weight of the accusations grows heavier, dragging you deeper into despair.
Nausea churns in the pit of your stomach, and you finally stop moving, the dizziness overwhelming you. A deathly coldness settles over you, seeping into your bones like icy tendrils, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Your fingers lose their grip on the bottle, and it crashes to the ground with a shattering sound that echoes in the stillness of the room, shards of glass scattering across the floor like stars falling from the sky. You follow suit, collapsing onto the floor, limbs heavy and muscles twitching.
You stare vacantly ahead, unable to move, your eyes glazed over with a hollow emptiness as a sense of dread washes over you, suffusing the air with an oppressive weight. Each breath feels like a battle, your chest tightening with every inhalation, as if your lungs were filled with water.
Your breaths grow more labored, each one shallower than the last, until they eventually cease altogether, leaving you gasping for air that refuses to come.
The world around you fades into darkness, the edges of your vision blurring as consciousness slips away, leaving you engulfed in a silence broken only by the faint echo of your last heartbeat.
˚୨୧₊♱
There was screaming.
Footsteps thudded along a path nearby, accompanied by the fluttering of wings as creatures soared overhead.
You awaken with a startle, disoriented and groggy.
Slowly sitting up, you find yourself surrounded by a crimson landscape, a pentagram shimmering ominously in the air above you. As you move, your hand sinks into something cold and wet, a sickening squelch accompanying the sensation.
Horror grips you as you realize your hand is touching a corpse, its monstrous form adorned with twisted horns, jagged tails, and rows of sharp teeth. The pair of lifeless eyes shift and stare into you, devoid of any trace of humanity.
Frozen with terror and panic, you scramble away from the grotesque sight, the ground slick with crimson ichor, each step leaving bloody handprints and footprints in your wake.
The evening light of this place reveals a grim environment surrounding you – a lumpy, uneven field of corpses and bones, a mass grave unlike any you've ever seen. But these corpses are not human; they are demonic, twisted and contorted in death.
Before you can even make sense of this grotesque scene, a spear slices through the air, its sharp tip gleaming in the dim light. With a thud, it embeds itself into the ground beside you. A sharp, stinging sensation follows as your cheeks burn, crimson liquid trailing down your skin.
Gasping for breath, you look up and catch sight of a figure soaring overhead, its massive wings spread wide against the crimson sky. Each beat sends a gust of wind rushing past you, whipping your hair around your face. The figure's single eye fixates on you, its gaze piercing through the darkness, the other obscured by a large 'X' mark.
Adrenaline surges through your veins as you run away, the cold sweat of fear prickling your skin.
Your surroundings blur into a chaotic whirlwind as you race through the labyrinthine alleys of Hell. With every stride, your heart pounds in your chest like a drum. Each footfall echoes in the narrow passageways, the walls closing in around you like a vice, but the chase of the angel behind you drives you forward, your muscles burning with exertion as you push yourself to your limits.
Suddenly, you're yanked to a stop, your body colliding with a stone floor as you're pulled into a hidden doorway. Pain shoots through your arm, and you wince, clutching it tightly against your chest. It throbs with a dull ache, bruised from the fall.
As you cautiously lift your gaze, you find yourself in a familiar setting—a speakeasy, though more rugged and rundown than you were used to. The air is thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol. Mismatched furniture and a barely held-together bar give the place a sense of makeshift charm.
"Well, look who it is."
The voice freezes you in place, and your eyes nervously move upward to see a familiar blonde woman before you, her sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, her eyes dark and intense.
"Mimzy?" you whisper, disbelief coloring your voice.
"It's me!" she cheers, swinging her legs and jazzing her arms up in the air. With a jump, she plops onto the ground, circling your hunched-over form with a mischievous grin. "How you doin', Dolly?"
"How?" your mind scrambles. "You-You…"
"I know! You thought I was dead?" she snickers before knocking you upside the head playfully. "Welcome to the afterlife, you ditz!"
"What?" you rasp, eyes frantically darting from her to your surroundings. "What are you talking about? Why do you look like that?!"
"Look what? Adorable~?" Mimzy hums and waltzes over to a gramophone, inserting a disk and starting a scratching melody that fills the speakeasy.
Hello, Dolly! Well, hello, Dolly! It's so nice to have you back where you belong~
"Come on, Dolly," Mimzy says, her voice low and melodic as she sways to the music. The bedazzled fringes of her dress sparkle in the dim light as she twirls, her heels dragging along the floorboards. "You haven't been living under a rock, have you? Or did'ja just arrive?"
You're lookin' swell, Dolly I can tell, Dolly You're still glowin', you're still crowin' You're still goin' strong
"I don't understand," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to comprehend what's happening. Everything feels like a dream—a nightmare, more accurately. "Where am I? What's going on?"
"We're both dead," Mimzy chuckles, tapping her heels along to the beat.
We feel the room swayin' While the band's playin' One of your old favourite songs from way back when
"What do you mean?" you manage to croak out, the words barely audible over the music.
Mimzy pauses mid-twirl. "Oh, Dolly," she sighs, shaking her head. "Hell, darling. We're in Hell."
Your blood runs cold at her words, the reality of your situation sinking in like a heavy weight on your chest. The memories of that fateful night flood your mind, filling you with a sense of guilt and despair.
Before you can voice your thoughts, Mimzy grabs your hand and pulls you into a dance, the gramophone's melody swirling around you like a sinister lullaby.
"So, take her wrap, fellas," Mimzy sings along, her laughter echoing off the walls. Her eyes gleam with a mischievous light as she leads you through the steps of the choreography you once knew so well. She twirls you around and drops you into a dip. "Find her an empty lap, fellas!"
"Dolly'll never go away again~"
You feel a surge of frustration building within you, the absurdity of overwhelming your senses. With a shout of anger, you push Mimzy away, a scowl etched deep on your face. She stumbles back, nearly losing her balance in her heels, her smile fading into a look of annoyance.
"Will you cut it out!" you snap, your voice echoing in the empty speakeasy. "Tell me what's going on!"
"Killjoy." Mimzy rolls her eyes and lets out a scoff, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. She moves over to the gramophone and turns it off, the melody abruptly silenced.
"I just told you what was going on, you doof!" Mimzy retorts, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The speakeasy falls into an uneasy silence, the air thick with tension, broken only by the faint sound of distant screams echoing outside the building. You gesture toward the source of the noise with a look of shock.
"Alright, I know well enough why I'm here, but what is that?" you inquire, your voice tinged with apprehension.
"An extermination. Angels come here to rid of sinners and such," Mimzy shrugs, her expression nonchalant despite the gravity of her words.
"Well, what about Alastor?" you press, the worry evident in your voice.
Mimzy's expression darkens, a flicker of anger crossing her features before she quickly masks it with a smirk. "Oh, you mean your darling husband? He's probably causing chaos somewhere, as usual. He'll be fine."
"I don't think he even knows you're here," she adds on with a yawn. "He probably thinks you're up in the shiny gates of heaven with his momma or something."
"Al knows I'm already dead?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Yup!" Mimzy chirps, her grin widening. "Your death came out in the news months ago. But only Lord knows why it took 'em so long to get you through purgatory."
The barrage of new information leaves you dizzy, your head spinning with the implications. "Wait—my death? The news?"
Mimzy moves over to the bar, kneeling down the worn floorboards as she digs through the bottom drawers.
"Didja know there's this little killin' business in Hell? I.M.P.—the Immediate Murder Professionals. And there's this cute little fella named Blitzo who does deliveries for me. I was his first costumer and poor guy needs the extra money so—"
"Mimzy, why are you telling me this?" you interject, confusion evident in your tone.
Mimzy's grin widens as she peeks at you from over the counter, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Well, sweetcheeks," she purrs, continuing to leaf through piles of paper, "if you paid attention to their name, they do murder. Murder in the human world, to be exact. And I hired them to go snuff you out!"
"But lo and behold, to my surprise," Mimzy continues, her tone laced with amusement, "you did their job for 'em! And this is what they brought back as proof."
With a flourish, Mimzy procures a newspaper from the depths of the cabident, her hands waving it around in excitement. She throws it to you, and you catch it, fumbling to see the headline. Your stomach churns as you take in the bold letters.
'LAST SWING: Speakeasy Star Suspected of Husband's Murder Dies in Alcohol Overdose.'
"Hi-larious!" Mimzy snorts as she presses a finger against the title, her expression gleeful. You hold the paper up, your hands trembling as you read through the article detailing your own death.
With a cackle, Mimzy jumps onto a nearby table, her movements lithe and energetic as she snatches the paper away from you.
"So, did'ja do it?" she taunts, leaning in close to your face with a devilish grin. "Didn't take you as the type. What was it? Poison? Housewife classic, I tell ya. Maybe a knife? Good ole push him down the stairs? Or was it a gun?"
You tense up at her last words, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. Mimzy smirks, her snicker ringing out like a sinister melody. Curls bounce around her face as she leans in closer, her lips practically ghosting against your cut.
"You shot him?"
"I—" you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as you run a hand through your frazzled hair, the disheveled strands tangling under your trembling fingers. "I didn't mean to! Heavens. I thought he was a deer!"
At that, Mimzy bursts out in loud laughter, tears streaming down her face as she clutches her stomach, doubling over with mirth. The sound echoes off the grimy walls of the speakeasy.
"Is that right?" she wheezes between fits of laughter, slapping her knee while still shaking with amusement. "No wonder he looks like a deer! Oh! The irony!"
"Deer?" you whisper out in confusion, your mind struggling to grasp the implications of her words amidst the chaos of her laughter. She laughs even harder at your response, kicking her feet in the air with unrestrained glee.
After a few minutes, she finally calms down. With a skip in her step and a glint in her eyes, she saunters over to you. Humming a tune, Mimzy twirls around you again, her movements fluid and graceful despite her earlier outburst.
"I know something you don't know~" she sings.
"What do you mean?" you frown, your voice trembling as you gaze at her, searching for any hint of what she's hiding.
"All in good time. I've told you a lot already, didn't I?" Mimzy replies cryptically, her tone snappy. "Let's see—I graciously saved you from that angel that was ready to spill your guts out, I've given you a wonderful welcome, helped you learn about your death, and, well, you were involved in my murder. I'd say the scales aren't balanced! You owe me. A lot."
Guilt churns in your gut as you nervously wring your hands. "Mimzy, no words can express how much guilt I feel about your—"
"Oh, cut the weeping dame bullshit. I don't care about that," Mimzy interrupts with a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hand. Her eyes gleam with a predatory intensity as she leans in closer.
"I'm feeling generous today," she purrs, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. "So, I'll make you a deal."
You eye her warily, the guilt in your gut twisting into a knot of apprehension. Despite your unease, you nod, silently urging her to continue, bracing yourself for whatever devil's bargain she has in store.
"In exchange for absolving your involvement in my murder and providing information on your husband," she whispers, her voice dripping with malice, "you'll owe me a favor. A big one. I want you to work for me again."
You tense, your mind racing as you process her proposition, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. "What?"
Mimzy's smirk widens at your reaction, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she relishes in your discomfort. "That's right, sugar. I want you back on the job, working for me just like old times."
"Well I… I don't have much of a choice, do I?" you reply, clenching your fists in frustration.
Mimzy's laughter reverberates through the speakeasy, each chuckle sending shivers down your spine.
"Of course not! Would you prefer to go running to Alastor instead? Oh, dear hubby, please shield me from the consequences of my sins! My apologies for putting a bullet in your skull!" she mocks your voice, drawling the syllables out as she clasps her hands together and bats her eyes at you.
A surge of humiliation and guilt washes over you, weighing heavy on your shoulders as you struggle to come to terms with the choices before you.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. Despite the overwhelming guilt and shame swirling within you, you know that you're cornered. Mimzy has you right where she wants you, and the only way out is to play her game.
"Fine," you say through gritted teeth, your voice tinged with resignation. "I'll work for you again."
Mimzy's grin widens, her sharp teeth flashed at you. "Excellent choice, darling. You won't regret it."
With a snap of her fingers, a contract materializes in her hand. She hands it over to you, and you read through it. Funnily enough, it looks almost identical to your previous employment contract in the living with her, but one detail catches your eye.
"To settle the debt incurred due to the aforementioned act, Y/N Caron, acknowledging the gravity of her transgressions, agrees to become a singer for Mimzy's Lounge for a duration of ten decades," you read the line in shock. Turning to Mimzy, you clutch the contract tightly, your nails threatening to break the paper. "Ten decades?!"
"What?" Mimzy scoffs, her voice dripping with derision. "You stuck here for all of eternity anyways, and so is your husband. Might as well do something."
With a theatrical flourish, Mimzy reaches into her chest and pulls out a pen, waggling it teasingly in your face. "So? What will it be? Are ya gonna sign the contract? Or am I gonna have to throw you out where those angels can tear you to pieces?"
You read through the contract again, your eyes frantically scanning the paper for any loophole or escape route, but you come up empty-handed. With a sinking feeling in your chest, you realize that you're in this for the long haul.
"But what about Alastor?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your voice.
Mimzy's laughter filled the speakeasy, bouncing off the walls like mocking echoes. "Oh, sweetheart," she cooed with faux sympathy, "haven't you read the fine print? Your dear Alastor is strictly off-limits. Can't have him interfering with our little arrangement, now can we?"
"But… I need to see him," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.
Mimzy's smirk widened into a wicked grin as she leaned in closer, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "And I need to make sure my end of the deal is fulfilled," she countered firmly.
Glancing down at the contract, you saw her pointing to a specific section. "Y/N Caron's husband, Alastor Caron, is strictly forbidden from being physically present around her in any way, shape, or form for the safety and integrity of this agreement."
"But… can't we find some middle ground?" you asked, a sliver of hope lingering in your voice.
"Ah, I've got an idea," Mimzy grinned , reaching into her drawer and pulling out an old radio. She extended it towards you. "You can talk with him as much as you like. This little radio will be your hotline to him. But there's a catch: he stays far, far away from you and this joint. How's that sound?"
Twisting the radio in your trembling hands, you felt the weight of the decision settle heavily on your shoulders. The device seemed ancient, its surface worn and its knobs slightly rusted, yet it held the power to bridge the seemingly insurmountable gap between you and Alastor. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly brought the pen to the paper, the ink blotting the sheet as you signed your name away, sealing your fate.
"It's a deal."
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adoreddestiny · 2 months
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ೃ⁀➷ ADMIRING YOU FROM AFAR — rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader
rafayel tries his best to recenter his gaze when the two of you are out. but he can’t help when his eyes start to wander. the world grows a little more still as you preoccupy yourself with something mundane such as shopping.
he traces over your expression in his mind as if sketching out a mental image of your features. the way your eyes crinkle when you spot something you like or your hands grasping onto soft material make his heart flutter in a way he could never describe to anyone.
rafayel’s eyes linger on you as he follows you like a curious kitten through the aisles. a fleeting comment escapes him occasionally but then he’s back to staring. his eyes soften ever so slightly but when you meet his gaze the tips of his ears go red. suddenly, the jackets nearby have become so much more interesting.
xavier was never a fan of mornings. when the sunlight swims into the room and lights up the atmosphere, he wants nothing more than to tumble back into sleep’s embrace. but now he finds himself awaking just to soak in your features before the morning merges with noon.
lost in the murkiness of sleep, he gazes at you with half-lidded eyes. there’s so much peace in your expression and he can’t help but melt beside you as you continue steadfast in your dreams.
xavier pulls back a bit of your hair. his gaze fastens onto you, taking in your gentle expression and the sound of your soft inhales and exhales. he doesn’t know how to explain this rising adoration in his chest. he just knows it’s ever so comforting. wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you in closer.
zayne finds his gaze wandering back to you more than he’d like to admit. you promised not to bother him while he finished this report, but all he wants you to do is chat his ear off. your gaze is fixated on something outside your apartment. he pauses his typing, utterly entranced by the affectionate look in your eyes.
he hates himself for getting distracted. but he can’t stop himself when his fingers still and his cursor hovers over empty documents. the amber glow of his desk lamp shines against your skin and he tries to tear his gaze away again.
zayne’s mind wanders as he tries to look back at his laptop. but even over his screen, he can’t help but scan over your features once more. there’s a certain gleam in your eyes that he can’t stop admiring even while his heart is stuck in his throat.
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aerynwrites · 4 months
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Dreams Become Reality
Gale Dekarios x Fem!Reader
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A/N: FINALLY got this finished lmao. Posted a teaser of this weeks ago and it has been sitting in my drafts ever since staring at me as I stared back it. Type a few words. Stop for a few says. Few more words, an even longer break. And so on lol. But it’s finally here! Based on the request.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, Reader is described as having female anatomy, fingering, gale comes untouched (kinda), choking, wet dreams, inappropriate use of Mage Hand, fluff and slight aftercare at the end.
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The air around you is thick. 
Thick with tension. Thick with the warm breaths leaving both your lips. Thick with the smell of arousal. 
It’s all consuming - Gale, is all consuming. Surrounding and overtaking your every sense. 
The scent of him fills your nose - sandalwood, and old books, and right now, sweat. The exertion has made a thin layer form on his skin as his body slides against your own. 
Gale surrounds you in every way, cocooning you between his body and the sheets, his lips very rarely leaving your skin as he moves with you, thrusting his hips against your own, bringing you closer and closer to the edge you long to jump off of. 
“Gale…” 
His name falls from your lips in a whispered prayer, begging for more as he responds with a soft groan of his own. 
He calls your name, and you whine in response. But then he calls it again, the sound falling in a gasp from his lips as one of his hands reaches up to clasp your shoulder in tight grip. 
He calls your name again and this time darkness crashes around you as you startle awake in bed. 
Your sleep clothes cling uncomfortably to your sweat-damp skin. Blood rushes in your ears as your chest rises and falls with effort to suck in air. And worst of all is the ache in your core, arousal burning bright in your belly from what you now realize was a dream. 
Another gentle squeeze to your shoulder makes your eyes finally fall to Gale, who sits beside you in the bed and appears positively flustered. 
He’s as short of breath as you are, chest stuttering as he gazes at you, eyes wide. You look him over quickly, and even in the darkness of the room you’re able to see the way his pupils are blown wide with lust and dark flush on his cheeks. And, you definitely don't miss the sight of him hard beneath the covers. 
“Shit…” you mutter, your own face heating up as you realize what happened. 
“Did I wake you?” you ask softly, trying and failing to tamp down the images from your dream. “I was…I’m sorry-“
Gale shakes his head, his hand falling down to lace his fingers with yours as his lips tilt up in a small smile. 
“No need for apologies,” he tells you, ever so slightly leaning in. “Most people would consider that a compliment. When their partner dreams of them in such a manner, well - at least, I hope it was me that was plaguing your dreams considering it was my name falling from your lips-“ 
You cut him off as you lunge for him, covering his mouth with your hand as you shush him, embarrassment swelling in your chest. 
“Do you ever stop talking?” 
Gale hums beneath your hand, and reaches up to pull it away from his mouth. You expect him to respond but instead, suddenly, he flips you over and presses you back into the mattress, his body hovering over yours as his hands hold your own beside your head. 
“I do indeed know when to hold my tongue but…” He pauses for a moment, and you blink in surprise as a candle on the bedside table ignites with a wave of his hand, casting you both in a dim glow before he continues. 
“I find myself most curious as to what had you calling my name like that even in the deepest sleep.” 
Gods, you feel at war with yourself. The embarrassment creeping up your neck and heating your cheeks, clashing with the arousal still burning bright in your veins. The images from your dream flash behind your eyes as they slip closed, yet the thought of voicing them makes you shrink into the covers. 
As if sensing your hesitancy, Gale is the first to act, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss, lips moving against yours before he pulls away just slightly, nose brushing your own. 
“How about I guess, hm?” he asks, his voice low as one of his hands lets go of one of yours. 
His fingers brush against the shell of your ear, traveling lower over your neck, down over your shoulder to brush against your clothed breast. Your breath hitches with the contact, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as Gale’s lips tilt upward ever so slightly. 
“Was I touching you here?” he asks, voice a mere whisper as his thumb rubs over the stiff peak of your nipple. “Or perhaps it was…here…”
His hand leaves your chest in favor of slipping ever downwards, toying with the thin fabric of your underwear beneath your sleeping gown. 
Without much thought, you nod your head, a moan slipping past your lips as the heat of your arousal burns brighter. 
Gale’s eyes twinkle with triumph, and instead of leaving him with that satisfaction, another flash from your dreams makes you speak before that earlier embarrassment can creep back up. 
“But…there was something else…” you manage to say, your voice soft as your cheeks blaze with heat. 
Gale’s head tilts to the side ever so slightly at your words, brows winging up in surprise as he stills. 
“Oh?” he breathes. “Now I must know what was going on in that beautiful head of yours.” 
Despite your best effort, something akin to shame wells up in your chest, regret at ever saying anything invading your mind. But Gale’s unadulterated interest, that ever present curiosity in his gaze, practically begs you to please him by voicing your fantasies. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “What if…what if you think it’s…what if you don’t like it?” you ask sheepishly. 
Gale lets out a small chuckle, eyes soft as his free hand retreats from between you to rest encouragingly against your hip, squeezing gently. 
“My love,” he says quietly. “I can assure you that you will receive no wayward looks or reprimands from me. Your desires and fantasies are your own, I must admit - but dare I say I would be more than eager to help you fulfill them.” 
His words soothe you slightly, but that doubt is still present, and Gale must know you’re about to protest when your lips part, because he stops you with another kiss. 
“I assure you,” he says as he pulls away just enough to hover over you. “If for any reason I am not comfortable I will make it known. Just as I would expect you to do if our positions were reversed.” 
You manage a small nod, muscles quivering in subdued excitement as you reach down to take the hand at your hip slowly bringing it back on your body. 
“You were touching me there,” you say softly, voice sultry with arousal. “But you were also…here.”
Your nerves are still tingling with a tinge of uncertainty as you guide his hand to the base of your throat. 
A shiver passes the through you as the calloused palm of his hand brushes over the delicate skin, his fingers twitching in surprise as you gently press them to wrap around the sides of your neck. 
You watch through lowered lashes for his reaction, your heart tittering when his breath hitches, eyes widening and going dark with lust all at once. 
For just a brief moment, you expect him to pull away, but Gale - as usual - surprises you. His fingers flex, pressing just a bit firmer into the pulse points of your neck, his palm placing just the barest of pressure to your throat, making your already labored breathing come out ragged as a moan slips past your lips. 
“Gods above…” Gale groans, leaning up so his lips hover over your own. “This is what you dreamt of? My hands on your skin, bringing you pleasure while also toying with the slightest bit of danger?” 
He presses his fingers in deeper, not enough to leave marks or completely cut off air, but more than before and enough to make you acutely aware of the blood pumping beneath his fingers, and the breath straining through your throat. 
You can feel new wetness pooling between your thighs, joining the arousal already present from your obscene dreamscape.
And Gale…Well, he seems just as affected as you are. His hips have slotted against your own, pushing up your nightgown as he presses himself against you. 
All you can manage is a small nod to his question, not sure you’d be able to speak if you wanted to. Ecstasy courses through your veins, buzzing delightfully and fanning those flames burning deep in your core even higher as his hand tightens just that much more around your throat. 
Another moan works its way up your throat, this time getting stuck before it can fully pass your lips, the sound smothered by the pressure again your neck. 
Gale lets out another sinful sound, his hips pressing more incessantly against your own, enough that you can feel the hardness of him against your clothed center. 
Just when you think he’s had enough, that all too familiar heated look in his eyes, he pauses. 
Your brows furrow as his grip against your throat loosens as he mutters an unintelligible incantation. You go to question him, but you hear his answer before you even voice the question. 
His voice is smooth in your mind, as if he’s speaking directly to you, his lips never moving. 
‘I don’t want there to be any question of if you’re able to stop me.’ His thought comes into your mind as easily as if he were speaking, and your eyes widen. 
“Detect thoughts?” you ask, shocked at the brilliance of the idea. 
Now neither of you need to physically speak to communicate, thus no fear for Gale if you need to stop. 
Gale smiles, leaning down to capture you lips in a searing kiss. 
‘Exactly,’ he says in your mind. ‘And now…there is no need for my lips to leave your skin, no distractions from fulfilling that dream of yours…’
“Gale, please-“ you beg aloud, your patience now gone, and your only desire being him touching you, taking you in the way he was before your dream was snatched from your unconscious hands. 
Gale chuckles, lips breaking from yours to travel lower, nipping at your jaw and trailing featherlight kisses down your neck. 
‘Though I must admit…those words sound much sweeter falling from your lips than floating through my mind.’
He continues his path downwards, no doubt leaving behind ample evidence of his attentions, until he’s stopped in his tracks by the collar of your sleep clothes. It’s then that you both finally move to divest yourselves of the offending articles. 
Your hands move frantically against Gale’s velvet shirt, the fabric clinging to your hands as you bunch it up to eventually tug it over his head. His pants are not far behind, the renowned wizard helping you with those before his lips are on you once more, only parting from you as he removes your nightgown, the fabric forcing you to separate for just a moment before you claim him again. 
It feels like déjà vu as Gale presses you back into the mattress, his body caging you in, cocooning you in a heady warmth as his scent surrounds you. 
Flashes of your dream come to mind once more, and you’re forced to swallow the moan that Gale lets out, his teeth nipping gently at your bottom lip as he begs for entrance. 
You grant his silent request eagerly, moaning unabashedly agsint him as his tongue presses forward to glide against your own. 
Gale has always been a giving lover, desperate to show you how much he loves you when his words sometimes fail him. Even now you can tell he’s hells bent on indulging your fantasies. But it feels different…It feels as if he’s more eager than usual. His lips less precise, his fingertips digging just a bit harder into your hips…
He’s ravenous. 
And who are you to complain? 
Sensing your thoughts, you can feel Gale smile agsint your lips, his voice flooding your mind once more as you open your own to the spell.
“Ravenous, indeed,” he affirms, his hand snaking it’s way back up your sternum, closing deftly around your throat as he pulls away only to gaze down at you. 
His lips are swollen from your charred kisses, chest quickened with short pants, eyes blown wide with lust as he fully takes you in beneath him. 
“I have seen your desires in your minds eye,” he says aloud, voice drenched in pure sin. “But perhaps I may make a suggestion?”
You can only nod, a whimper slipping past your lips as his fingers tighten against your pulse point, teasing you with the barest hint of pressure. 
He smiles down at you - a wicked cunning thing, and you can’t help the way the coil in your belly pulls ever more taut, blood hot with ecstasy at the gleam in his eyes. 
He leans back down, another soft incantation falling from his lips before they capture your own again, and he’s speaking in your mind again just as a ghostly touch brushes against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 
“With my hands most occupied-“ he flexes his hand against your throat, finally giving you the pressure you wish for as his other hand support himself beside your head. “I’ll need another to assist.”
He gives you no true warning before you feel a hand at your center, palm pressed agsint your clit as two fingers drag agonizingly slow through your slick folds. 
Gale’s hand cuts off the moan that bubbles up in your throat, lips swallowing what little sound does slip through, as your hips buck up into his own. 
Mage hand.
You barely have time to register that the sneaky bastard had cast the spell before the extension of himself is teasing you one more, pressing against that bundle of nerves before moving down to sink two fingers into you. 
Gale presses his fingers deeper into the sides of your throat as you groan once more - both from the magic pleasuring you and the rush in your head from the way he chokes you. 
You don’t even realize how close you were to the edge until this moment. The pressure building in your core and in your head feeling like too much in the best way possible. 
Everything feels like it’s been dialed to one hundred. The threads of the sheets beneath your skin, the smell of Gale surrounding you, the way his lips brush against your cheek when he breaks from the kiss, the fingers moving inside of you - brushing against that spot that makes you see stars.
You can feel the way his breath comes out in short bursts, the air warm against your dewy skin as he presses his body into your own. 
It’s just like your dream again. Him cocooning you entirely, his smell making your mouth water, his hand against your throat making your head pound, and his magic finally throwing you over the edge. 
You come with little warning to the wizard above you, but you’re sure he is able to tell. Whether it be from your jumbled thoughts no doubt being shouted at him from your connection, or the fact that he knows you so well…He’s prepared. 
As you tumble over that precipice, Gale applies just a little more pressure to your throat, enough so you can still gain air, but just barely.
You can feel your pulse pounding beneath his fingertips, your breath scratching against your throat as ecstasy consumes you. It feels as if pure starlight ignites in your veins, a ragged moan breaking through as you arch up into the body above you, seeking more from your lover as he does the same, grinding his hips into yours.
Gale reaches his own end virtually untouched, the mere friction from your body against his and the pure pleasure of indulging your fantasy has him spending himself on your stomach with a groan. 
His grip around your neck loosens before disappearing entirely as he all but collapses against you, uncaring of the mess between you two as he slips strong arms around you before rolling to the side, taking you along with him. 
It’s a few moments before either of you speak, and you realize both the mage hand and the detect thought spells have ended. No doubt Gale’s own end brought about the disruption of his concentration. But when words finally come, it’s Gale who speaks first. 
His fingers brush against your neck gently, barely a whisper of skin against skin as he takes a deep breath. 
“I fear I may have gotten carried away,” he says softly, brows furrowed in concern as you pull away just enough to look at him. 
You reach up, your fingers bumping against his own and can feel the way your skin burns just slightly hotter where his hand was earlier. There must be faint marks of your activities, and you have to try to quell the new stab of arousal that shoots through you. 
“You didn’t,” you assure him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “It was perfect.”
His face relaxes at your words, lips tugging upwards slightly. 
“Yes, well…Next time perhaps you can indulge me with your deepest fantasies verbally, instead of waking me in the middle of the night.”
You raise a questioning brow at him, hands sliding up until you can slide your arms around his neck.
“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?” 
Gale scoffs, nearly choking on air. “By the gods, no!” He says, aghast. “I’m simply saying that perhaps, in the future, we can disclose our fantasies more readily…So we may indulge as we please.”
You hum softly, eyes widening at his words. 
“Our fantasties?” You question, watching as a blush starts to tinge the wizard's cheeks.
“Ah, well - ehm - Yes. You didn’t think you’re the only one with uh…secret desires, did you?”
Slowly, you move so that Gale is laid out beneath you as you straddle his wait, hands planted on his chest as you gaze down at him. 
“And…what would your fantasies be?”
Gale pauses for a moment, unsure. But you lean down to press a quick kiss to his cheek, before pulling back, a smirk on your lips.
“Come, my love,” you tease. “How about I guess, hm?”
Gale lets out a soft groan at your repeat of his earlier jest, and you can’t help but laugh as his hands come up to settle on your hips. You lean down to kiss him properly this time and can’t stop the excitement pooling in your belly once more. 
The night is still young, and you have a feeling that there is much more to discover.
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2K notes · View notes
vanteguccir · 2 months
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Tiktok trends | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: 4 times that Y/N and Chris made a couple's trend on tiktok.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
PS.: This happens in the same universe as the Guess who's who | Chris Sturniolo.
PS. 2: I made a part 2!
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Since the pandemic, tiktok has become one of the most used social media in the whole world, thousands of people download it every day and thousands more create content daily or, sometimes, just post a video that explodes in views, many of them starting a career with it, or creating a hobby from it.
And that's what happened in Y/N's life. She was still finishing high school when she posted her first video on the app, not expecting it to get more than 10 likes.
She was at the triplets' house, still in Boston, watching a movie with her boyfriend, when that same video exploded, reaching more than 300 thousand views and 150 thousand likes.
So, while Matt, Nick, and Chris were starting their careers on their new YouTube channel, Y/N was starting hers on TikTok.
Fans loved the fact that Chris's girlfriend had a TikTok account and posted regularly, after all, she lived with him in LA, which meant that the fandom had content of her and him together almost weekly.
Y/N was the typical influencer who participated in all the trends that interested her, from dancing or singing famous songs to recording herself cooking different recipes.
But the ones she loved most were the couple trends, and it was nothing that a few minutes of begging Chris to do them with her couldn't convince him.
Secretly, the boy loved making that mini videos for TikTok with Y/N; he adored showing that he was hers, how much he loved her, and how obsessed he was with her.
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1.
Chris positioned Y/N's phone on top of his computer desk, the device resting on his laptop with the screen facing forward, the TikTok camera already open, and with the audio already selected.
The boy took his Prada wallet from the back pocket of his baggy jeans, leaving it ready in his hand, hiding it behind his back.
His blue eyes glanced briefly at Y/N, who was on his right side and out of the camera's frame, a smile on her face as she admired him, waiting for the recording to begin.
He extended his right arm, clicking the red button in the bottom center of the screen. The melody of the chorus of Cupid's Chokehold / Breakfast in America by Gym Glass Heroes began to play.
"Everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like"
Chris removed his hand that was hidden behind his back, showing the black wallet and opening it, holding it on the left side so that the right side was exposed to the camera, the transparent plastic holding a small picture of Y/N. His face appeared on the right side of the screen, a sideways smile decorating his face.
The girl was lying on Chris's chest in the picture, probably in their bed, the room was dark and the camera's flash completely illuminated her face, a big smile adorned her features along with her closed eyes.
Chris brought his wallet closer to the phone's front camera, holding it there for a few seconds before lifting it slowly and lowering it quickly while moving slightly to the right side.
"Take a look at my girlfriend"
Y/N's figure appeared where the wallet was, wearing a pink set from Fresh Love, a soft smile on her face as her eyes focused on Chris, a passionate glow in them.
"She's the only one I got (ba-ba-da-da)"
Chris returned the smile, placing his wallet on the desk and pulling his girlfriend's body against his, filling her face and neck with kisses. Y/N, throwing her head back with her mouth open in silent laughter, was the last image the camera captured before the tiktok ended.
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2.
Y/N docked her phone in the phone holder attached to the dashboard of the triplets' car, which she asked Matt to borrow the keys so she could go out to lunch with Chris.
She lowered the device's screen brightness, leaving it at minimum so that Chris wouldn't see the TikTok camera opened. Her eyes quickly went to her boyfriend next to her, seeing him scrolling through his own cell, probably looking for a nice restaurant for them to eat at, as Y/N had asked him to do.
She quickly clicked the red record button at the bottom of the screen, smiling briefly at it, an amused gleam in her eyes.
"There's this Osteria Mozza that looks cool. It's Italian, just how you like it." Chris commented, his eyes still focused on his own phone screen as he read the restaurant's reviews.
"Great, I feel like eating pasta." Y/N nodded quickly. "Let me just touch up my lip gloss real quick." She asked, turning her body sideways and reaching over to the seat where Nick normally sits, grabbing her purse.
She pulled it forward, slamming the side of it against the back of Chris' head, before placing it on her lap.
"Ouch, fuck! What was that for?" Chris's voice was high pitched due to the surprise of the impact, his cap almost falling off his head as his right hand left his phone and went to his hair, fixing the piece there while he looked exasperatedly at his girlfriend, his blue eyes wide.
The girl pressed her lips together as she tried to hold back her laughter, clearing her throat momentarily. She opened her purse and took out her Dior lip gloss.
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't even notice. Are you okay?" Y/N glanced at him quickly, her brow furrowed in false concern.
"Yes, just be careful next time." Chris asked, removing his hand from his cap before turning his attention back to his phone.
Y/N closed the zipper after reapplying her lip gloss, anticipating her boyfriend's final reaction before turning her body again, raising her arm and taking the purse to the backseat, slamming it into Chris again, this time hitting his nose.
"Babe! What the fuck?" He frowned, turning abruptly to her as he brought his hand up to his nose, rubbing the area. "What the hell are you doing?"
A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, her mouth falling open as a laugh escaped freely, her head falling back. Chris watched her as if she were crazy, the beginning of a smile appearing on his lips, his blue eyes running over her expressions.
"I'm sorry baby, it was for a tiktok. You're so funny." She said amidst laughter, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.
Chris rolled his eyes, a big smile taking over his features as his hand reached for the device. He widened his eyes at the camera playfully before clicking the red button again, stopping the recording.
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3.
Y/N took advantage of the fact that Chris was still brushing his teeth in the bathroom of their bedroom to position her phone on the nightstand on her side of the bed, the front camera capturing an entire side of the room.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to contain her laughter in anticipation as she grabbed her pillow and blanket from the bed, gathering them both under her arm.
"Chris, I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." Y/N spoke out loud, intending for the boy to hear her.
And he did, lifting his head abruptly and turning his body completely towards her, his toothbrush in hand and toothpaste on his lips.
"What?" His voice was muffled by his full mouth, his eyes wide as he watched her in surprise.
"I'm going to sleep on the couch today." She repeated, looking directly at him this time, making sure her body wasn't in full view of the camera or cutting into Chris's image.
"What? Why?" Chris asked again, a thread of sadness crossing his blue eyes as his brow furrowed, his mind working hard to try to understand what he had done wrong. A pain took over Y/N's heart, wanting to give up on the idea right then and there.
"I'm going to sleep in the living room, on the couch." Y/N spoke one last time, turning around and walking towards the bedroom door, in order to open it, but her action was stopped by the brunette, who spat the paste in his mouth into the sink and dropped the brush, running towards the girl.
"Wait, you sleep on the bed, and I sleep on the floor above a blanket or something, and tomorrow morning, we'll talk about it. Just don't let me sleep alone." He asked in a desperate tone, taking her arm and pulling her close, wanting to hug her and apologize for whatever he had done, even without knowing what it was.
Y/N looked into Chris' eyes, her own wide in surprise. She didn't expect that.
"Oh my baby, no! It's a prank, just a tiktok trend." The girl explained quickly, pointing briefly to the phone still recording before pulling Chris into her arms, feeling her eyes filling with tears and her heart warming with love.
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4.
"Nick, this is not that difficult. They only have two types: pink and purple, I want the pink one! Are you dumb?" Chris was talking loudly, his phone pressed on his ear as he was on a call with his brother, having asked Nick to buy a specific candy he knew Y/N liked on his quick trip to Target.
Y/N walked towards him with her own phone in hand already recording, the rear camera facing Chris, who was sitting on their bed with his back against the headboard, the blanket covering half of his body as the sound of a random series came out of the television.
The girl was only wearing small cycling black shorts and a Chris t-shirt that was huge on her body, covering her bra-free boobs.
She walked closer as she watched her boyfriend fight with his brother, a look of boredom in his eyes that quickly met hers, a small smile appearing on his face as he sent her a wink.
Y/N smiled back before stopping her steps, her free hand going to the hem of her - his - t-shirt and pulling it up a second later, exposing her boobs to Chris.
His blue eyes widened in a matter of seconds, his mouth opening into a perfect O. Nick's voice sounded shouting from the other side, demanding that Chris responded, but to his ears, everything seemed to have gone silent.
"Nick, buy anything, you name it. I need to take care of one thing right now, I mean, two." The brunette spoke weakly into his phone, lowering the device and clicking the red button to hang up the call without even looking at it, completely ignoring Nick's voice on the other end.
The girl let out a laugh, the image of Chris standing up abruptly and pulling Y/N against his body being the last thing captured on camera, before the tiktok ended.
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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
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gogogodzilla · 6 months
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Easy Mornings
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mike schmidt x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, mike’s POV, almost getting caught, i know the majority voted for a different way this could go, but i already had this one started (sorry y'all, that one is coming soon) part 1 ✩ part 2 ✩ main masterlist ✩ read on ao3
Mike gripped the steering wheel with an iron grip for the entire drive home, excitement buzzing throughout his body. Your panties weighed heavy in his front pocket, now covered his cum. 
His hands shook as he pulled into the driveway. He wondered how he’d find you. Would you be buried under the covers of his bed, one of his old t-shirts just barely covering your modesty? He’d gently pull the covers off of your sleeping form, exposing yourself to him. His breath would catch in his throat as he took in your figure and his hands would trail up your bare thighs. 
His mind got lost in the possibilities as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of thoughts of you at least long enough for him to get in the front door. 
His keys jingled softly against the lock and he breathed in the scent of freshly-brewed coffee. You had your back turned to him, leaning over the kitchen table and scanning over one of your textbooks. 
You clutched your coffee mug in your hand and took a sip, not noticing his presence. Morning sunlight shone gently through the windows, illuminating the kitchen and bathing you in a soft glow. You were wearing one of his old t-shirts, just as he thought. You looked heavenly in this light, and Mike would have the image burned into his mind forever. 
He set his bag quietly down by the door and padded closer to you. You jumped as he wrapped his arms around your center and tugged you closer to him. His hands gripped your hips and held you in place as his lips moved on their own accord and trailed down your neck. 
He could practically feel your grin as you hummed, leaning into him. “Did you enjoy what I packed for you?”
His grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you into his growing bulge. He breathed in your scent, taking in the moment alone with you. 
“Sure did,” he hummed against your skin. “I think I’ll enjoy the real thing a bit more.” 
His hands drifted down your body and under your shirt, skirting over the bare skin of your thighs. He lets out a satisfied noise as his fingertips trailed over your ass. You were bare for him, your panties still sitting snugly in his front pocket. 
One of his hands drifted down and across the backs of your thighs to run his middle finger through your folds. You let out a small gasp at his touch and pushed your hips against him, already needy for him. His fingertip grazed across your clit, and his lips attached to your neck once again. 
“Mike,” you whimpered softly, attempting to keep your voice down. Abby was due to be woken up soon. 
His finger dipped in your entrance before returning to your clit, and your frustrated groan was interrupted by him sliding inside of you. He slowly pumped it before allowing his pointer finger to join it, stretching you divinely.  He removed his other hand from your hip to draw lazy figure-eights across your clit, earning him one of those pretty moans he loved to hear. 
Mike removed his hand from your clit to work at undoing the button of his pants and tugging the zipper down. He removed his fingers from your dripping core and slipped them past his lips, sighing at the taste. 
“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he murmured against your ear as he freed his painfully hard cock from his boxers. You hurriedly nodded as he dragged his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. His grip tightened on your hip as he was already getting lost in the feeling of you. You both let out soft moans as his tip bumped your clit before moving back to tease your entrance. 
You jutted your hips against his, “Mike.”
He answered you by angling his cock up to your entrance and slowly pushing inside of you. He barely met any resistance as your pussy greedily swallowed him whole, and he let out a low groan. 
He presses his palm against the space between your shoulder blades, nudging you to bend over the kitchen table for him. You pushed your textbook and coffee cup out of the way. He lifted your shirt to get a good view of the way you were taking him like you were made for him.
You arched your back as he started to move his hips against yours. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last. You felt divine against him as always, and he gripped your ass. 
“Ah— fuck, baby. Taking me so good.” 
Your arms moved upward to support yourself as he thrust into you, fingernails digging into the wooden surface of the table. You let out a satisfied moan at his words, and he felt you clench around him. 
You stood on your tiptoes, allowing him to hit the spot inside you that had you squirming against him and mewling. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moans that were escaping you, and the desire to kiss you nearly overwhelmed him. 
He ran his fingers through the hair at the base of your neck and pulled you so your back was flush against his chest. He gripped your chin and turned your head so he could put his lips against yours. The angle was awkward, but he didn’t care. You didn’t seem to either as you reached back and tugged his hair, pulling him closer. 
He jutted his hips deeper inside of you, and the familiar coil formed in his belly. He pressed hurried kisses against the side of your neck, nipping at your earlobe just to keep you on your toes. He reached around you and rubbed tight circles around your clit. You whined loudly and he clamped a hand across your mouth. 
He shushed you as he increased his pace, “Fuck… Gotta be quiet, baby.” 
He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenching as he became lost in the sensation of you. He was hanging by a thread, but he wanted to feel you cum around him. The thought had been driving him insane all night, and he needed it. 
The kitchen filled with the sound of his hips slapping against yours and the slight shake of the table from his thrusts. The chance of getting caught spurred him to drive his cock deeper inside you with every thrust, earning a high-pitched mewl muffled by his palm. 
Your entire body tensed against him as you came hard around his cock, squeezing him just right. His hips stuttered against you as his orgasm rapidly approached. 
With a final, deep thrust of his hips, he was cumming inside you. His release painted your insides, and he let out a low groan as he continued to ride out both of your orgasms. 
After a few more drags of his hips, he stilled within you, panting. Slowly, he pulled his cock out of you and watched how his cum dripped over your puffy folds. 
Muffled footsteps originated from Abby’s room, and the both of you straightened. He hurried to right himself, and you had just enough time to tug your shirt down to cover yourself before Abby came padding out of her room. 
“Hey, Abs,” you greeted as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and picked up your coffee cup. You stood with your legs crossed, watching as she entered the kitchen. 
Mike attempted to appear casual as he commented, “You’re up early.”
Abby shrugged, furrowing her brows, “A loud noise woke me up, but I’m not sure what it was.”
Mike’s eyes widened as he met your equally embarrassed gaze. 
You set your mug down, “I’m gonna go get dressed.” 
Your footsteps were hurried as you made your way to Mike’s room. He grinned at the thought of his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs. 
He moved toward the fridge as Abby sat at the kitchen table, “How ‘bout I make you some breakfast?”
2K notes · View notes
gurugirl · 5 months
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2. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
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Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: The night has arrived and things are going really well for all three of you until suddenly they're not.
A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.
Word Count: 10k+
Warning: 18+ only, smut, jealousy, angst, hurt feelings, daddy kink
The Unicorn Masterlist
When you left, Harry walked back inside his house feeling like a new man. He felt real. He felt strong and virile. He didn’t know what had come over him being so direct with you. So rapacious. But it felt natural. It was like something about you brought it out of him.
It wasn’t until he was sitting at the table with the boys eating dinner that any little inkling of guilt started to wash over him. It was then he realized he hadn’t even thought about Kit since he started making dinner. He was conjuring up images in his mind of what you would look like on Saturday in various positions. Imagined the way your eyes would widen and then squeeze close when you orgasmed. Wondered how many he could coax out of you. He’d completely blocked out that his wife would be participating.
He would need to tame himself. See how Kit responded to seeing you and him together. If she enjoyed it he could loosen up a little but he was concerned about the way you two clicked. Your dynamic was very good, Harry thought, that he would have a hard time sharing you. Plus, he wasn’t sure whether or not Kit would like to hear you calling him Daddy. And Harry really wanted to hear you call him Daddy again.
When his wife got home the twins were already in bed and Harry was in the master bedroom reading, “So how did it go?” She asked him as she plucked her heels off, placing her palm on their dresser to balance herself.
“It was good. Why don’t you get ready for bed and then we can talk about everything that happened?”
Harry had decided he’d play down what had happened between you two. He’d be honest but he wouldn’t divulge some of his innermost thoughts. The parts where he forgot all about his wife and how your soft and docile demeanor was refreshing and made him feel masculine and wide awake all of a sudden. No. He wouldn’t share that much with her.
Kit turned off the ceiling light and turned on her lamp before climbing into bed with Harry, “So, tell me how it went.”
“Yeah. It was good. She was very open. She said she wanted to join us on Saturday for sure.”
Kit nodded, “And? Did you two kiss or anything?”
Harry’s heart began to lob in his chest at the idea that he was going to tell his wife what he’d done with another woman. Kit seemed fine. She insisted she was but Harry still felt unease about how to handle this situation gracefully. Without anyone getting hurt.
“Yeah, we did. Brought her into the bedroom, here so the kids didn’t see. Kissed her and then got her clothes off, fingered her,” he inhaled softly and felt his cheeks glow and his chest burn. “That was it.”
Kit grinned and slid in close to Harry, smoothing her palm under his shirt, “Yeah? I wish I could have seen it. Did she come?”
Harry puffed out a laugh of disbelief. Maybe he was fretting for nothing. Perhaps his guilt had been needless. Maybe Kit was right. Maybe this would be really good for them.
“Yes.” He looked down at where his wife’s hand was traveling.
“And did you come?”
“No. I kept all my clothes on when I was with her and then when she left I had to get dinner for the boys and I was with them until I finally got into bed a bit ago.”
Kit palmed over his crotch, “You poor man. You did so good for me today, baby.” She kissed his lips, “You deserve a treat.”
Harry sighed as his wife put her hand into his night pants and began to pump his cock slowly. Closing his eyes with a smile he realized he probably had nothing to worry about.
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You were a mess. You couldn’t sleep in the way that was necessary to function properly the next day. You kept going from squealing into your pillow like a 16-year-old after your crush admitted to liking you too, to feeling overwhelming anxiety about what was to come. Kit was an unknown in the equation. For many reasons.
The first was that you’d never been intimate with a woman even though you crushed on women for longer than you had men. The second was that you were worried that now that you’d called Harry Daddy and knew how much he liked it, even if Kit didn’t like that it would be hard for you to turn that off. The third thing was that you weren’t sure you’d want to see Harry kissing anyone else or watch him preferring his wife over you, because he would. Because Kit was so much prettier than you and she was his wife, the mother of his children. You were certain that you’d wind up kind of being the third wheel.
But maybe you had it all wrong. Maybe you’d love being with Kit and things would just be fun. But your rabbit hole Google search wound up landing you on a subreddit all about this kind of thing and did not leave you with confidence about what was to come. So many horror stories about “unicorn hunters” finding their “unicorn” and the ways threesomes can end a marriage.
But you said yes. And you intended to follow through. They both really seemed to want it. And you trusted them. Perhaps your experience would be among the rare ones that worked out for the better.
The rest of the week felt like you were slowly entering into a new realm of existence. Dramatic way to put it but that’s just how it felt. Things would change for you. Not only would you be having your first sexual encounter with a woman, but you’d also be having a threesome. You’d be in the middle of a married couple and that was not a situation you thought you’d ever get into.
But also, you were very aware that Harry was planning on fucking you. In front of his wife. And you couldn’t imagine that going well. Of course, you forced your fantasy to make it positive but there was something that was telling you that it wouldn’t be. You hoped you were just nervous for nothing.
On Friday before you left Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ home, William and Warren were told to get their suitcases ready for grandma and grandpa to pick them up the following morning.
Kit helped you put your bag on your shoulder, as she spoke, “We’re really excited about tomorrow. I hope you are too, Y/n.”
You smiled as you turned to look at her, “I am. A little nervous, I’ll admit.”
You were more than a little nervous.
“That’s okay. We are too. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow and go from there.”
Harry walked into the living room with you and Kit and there was just something different about him following that night he had you in his bed. It made you squirmy and intimidated. His eyes had always been intense but now they felt more severe. Daunting.
“So, tomorrow at 3 then?” He asked you as he raised his brows.
You nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be here.”
And from the moment you drove away from the Styles’ house until you knocked on their front door the following afternoon, you couldn’t get yourself to calm down or think about anything else.
You paced and talked out loud to yourself. You set up scenarios in your head and acted them all out, some of them turning you on quite a lot, you couldn’t lie. You practiced how you’d respond in certain situations. You took a long bath with salts and essential oils and got rid of as much hair as possible from your body so you’d be extra smooth.
You played your music loudly. You masturbated thinking about the way Harry fingered you. You picked the perfect outfit and panties. And you tried to sleep. But that was nearly impossible.
When you did finally wake up it was already noon. You’d slept in. Which shouldn’t have surprised you because you couldn’t get to sleep the night before. You jolted up from your bed and panicked as you ran into the bathroom to get the shower going. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You wondered what Harry and Kit were doing to prepare. Were they freaking out like you were? They both said they’d never done anything like this so they had to be at least a little nervous about everything.
Your soft pink lace bra and panties were your favorites. You didn’t wear them all the time but it felt like the appropriate affair to break them out.
At about 2 pm you received a text from Kit.
If you’d like, you can stay the night. We would be happy to have you all night.
That, you hadn’t expected. You had envisioned it being along the lines of you and the Styles getting finished up and then using their bathroom before an awkward goodbye and See you Monday (you really had thought of every scenario already).
But to stay the night? Would you sleep in their bed with them? Or would they offer you their guest room? Or the couch? You couldn’t imagine sleeping next to them all night. Of course, maybe that would be nice? You really didn’t know. It was hard to think with a clear brain when Harry was involved. The whole situation was wacky but the opportunity to be allowed to sleep with Harry and his pretty wife and have everything be just fine after (hypothetically) was simply not something you’d want to say no to.
.           .           .
Harry was nervous. He was trying to reign in his thoughts and his doubts. He didn’t want Kit to know how deep his worries ran. Because she seemed excited. She seemed far calmer than he felt.
He forced himself to eat breakfast and a light lunch so she didn’t question it. He didn’t know how things would play out once you arrived. And he tried not to imagine all the salacious things he’d been thinking about you in his private time.
When you’d finally arrived with your bag in hand and knots in your tummy Harry took deep breaths as Kit answered the door and hugged you in greeting.
“I hope you’re hungry! I’m making salmon and parmesan risotto.It’s my specialty and I think you’ll like it.” Kit led you to the kitchen where her husband stood and the moment he laid his eyes on you the smallest something ignited in him. It was only a spec of something but it was as if a layer of worry was wiped away instantly. Just seeing your pretty smile with your bag in hand had his mind swirling with thoughts of what might come. He realized part of him didn’t think you’d actually show up. But you did.
He tried leaning on Kit’s poise and mimicking her excited demeanor. On the way she seemed so calm but confident. That’s how it should have been for him. But the bigger parts of worry in him stemmed from the fact that his more dominant natural inclination was starting to peek through the cracks slowly. He’d even initiated something with Kit the night before, which she quickly shot down. He knew his wife was not one for being submissive. Or at least letting him take the reigns fully. But he knew Y/n would want it.
And worse yet, he hadn’t asked Kit if she’d mind if you called him Daddy. That was weighing heavy on him. He knew he should have talked to her about it days prior but there was part of him that worried she wouldn’t like that. He wasn’t sure how it would be brought up at that point but it would come out sooner or later he was positive. Especially with the way you seemed to love saying it.
“This looks so good, thank you, Mrs. Styles,” you smiled softly and looked from Harry to Kit and then back to the steaming pot ofrisotto. You weren’t sure you’d be able to eat much but you’d force something down. Your mind was jumbled and you felt tense.
But of course, this was something new for all of you. You’d all be going through this together and so you probably didn’t have much to worry about.
Harry took your little bag from your hand and his bright green eyes on you felt hot, “I’ll take this upstairs unless you need anything from it right now?”
You shook your head, “I don’t need it. Thank you, Mr. Styles.”
You had wanted to ask Harry what his wife thought about the whole Daddy thing but you hadn’t had the chance the rest of the week and even if you had you wouldn’t have been able to get the nerve up to ask.
“So, what are you thinking? What things are you into?” Kit asked as she handed you a glass of wine.
You leaned your hip into the counter and shrugged, “I don’t know. I think I like it when other people take the lead. I’m sort of, maybe a little submissive,” you laughed softly as you brought your glass up to your lips and looked at Kit. It was the first time you’d really taken her in since you’d arrived. She was wearing a pretty black lacey dress that fit her gorgeous body like it was made for her. Black heels, a smoothed back, high ponytail. Bright red lips, perfectly done eyeliner. Her cheekbones made you envious. You’d always noticed her cheekbones in the past. As well as Harry’s. Imagined they were made for one another. Two exquisitely stunning people.
Kit leaned against the counter next to you, her body turned toward yours, “That’s perfect for Harry and me. We’re both a bit dominant,” she sipped her glass and you watched her eyes trail down over your neck. You’d put on a pretty choker. Light pink small pearls to go with your sexy (you hoped) pink lacey underwear. Over it, you wore a lightweight cream sweater that was almost sheer with a short white skirt with a print of pink and yellow butterflies all over it. You felt underdressed compared to Kit. She looked like an adult and you looked like a child.
When Harry returned to the kitchen he poured himself a glass and looked at you and then to his wife, “What’d I miss?”
“Just asked Y/n what she likes. She’s going to let us take the lead. And look at his, H,” she gently put a slender finger under your pearl choker, “she’s perfect. I told you.”
Harry’s gaze felt so heavy on you. It felt like he was dissecting you with his eyes, “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”
A safe choice of words.
Dinner was quite delicious. Though you weren’t really that hungry, the wine you drank helped you feel a bit more comfortable, and sitting and chatting about normal things with Kit and Harry felt really good.
You helped clean up. Harry had put on some music and you were feeling loose from the wine so you were swaying the tiniest bit with the beat. When you felt hands at your hips you turned and it was Kit, swaying with you. She leaned her chin over your shoulder and spoke into your ear, “Leave the dishes. Those can wait. I think it’s time to get comfortable and talk. Come,” she pulled at you and you suddenly weren’t feeling as loose at the notion of talking.
Ground rules. Expectations. It was all necessary stuff.
You followed her into the living room where Harry was already sitting on the couch at one side. He gestured for you to sit next to him and Kit sat down on the opposite side, putting you in the middle.
The music was still playing as Kit turned toward you and put her arm up on the back of the couch, “Tell us your concerns. What things you absolutely do not like.”
You looked down at the coffee table where all three glasses of wine were sat and took a deep breath, “My concerns… I’m worried someone won’t like this after we start. Like,” you looked at Kit, “maybe you realize you don’t want anyone touching Harry. Or even if Harry doesn’t like to see you with anyone else? I just don’t want anyone to feel upset.”
Kit nodded, “A good point. I feel the same. I think we all do. We won’t know until we get into it but I think if there is anything anyone doesn’t like we need to be able to speak up about it. Agreed?”
You nodded, unsure if they wanted you to continue. That was the biggest concern of yours, sort of. You were worried about calling Harry Daddy when things got going. You were worried you would feel left out, which wasn’t fair of you to feel that way. Kit and Harry were married, after all. They’d certainly be paying the most attention to each other.
“Anything else? What things do you not like at all? What is a hard no for you?”
Harry had been quite silent since you all had sat down. But you were feeling heat pouring off of him. And you could tell he had his eyes on you.
“I mean… maybe if I think of some I’ll tell you? I haven’t done much, to be honest. Nothing stands out in my mind.”
“Do you like to be spanked? Or maybe restrained?” Kit raised her brows at you.
You shrugged, “I haven’t really been spanked before. Definitely not restrained.”
“You haven’t really been spanked?” Harry finally spoke up.
You turned to look at him but found you needed to look away quickly. He was too attractive.
“Well, once a guy sort of smacked at my bottom during… Like I was on top and…” you swallowed trying to calm yourself as you saw his hand move from his lap to the space between your thigh and his on the couch, “Like it was just really quick. Just once. So I wouldn’t say spanked but… yeah.”
“And did you like it?” He asked.
You looked at him and couldn’t help but feel yourself singe with warmth, “I didn’t mind it.”
“We’ll learn as we go,” Kit added.
Harry pulled his gaze away from you to his wife when she spoke and it was the first time you noticed it. His unease. It almost seemed like he’d forced himself to look away from you. Like the way you felt when you looked at him.
Kit reiterated that she agreed with you. That there would need to be open communication. She said that she liked to be dominant or at least to have most of the control.
“And I also like to be in control. To be dominant.” Harry said as he looked at Kit and then to you, “I also wanted to see if it was comfortable for you, Kit, if Y/n calls me Daddy.”
Kit looked to the coffee table quietly in thought and then looked at you, “Do you like that? To call your sexual partner Daddy?”
Your eyes widened at the question. You hadn’t expected that you’d answer this question. But you also assumed Harry had already spoken to Kit about it.
“Uh, well. Yeah, I think so.”
“Have you ever called anyone Daddy during a sexual encounter before? Are you comfortable with that?” Kit pressed.
You shot your sight to Harry and then back to Kit. How did you answer this? He obviously hadn’t told his wife that you were calling him Daddy that night and now you didn’t know if you should reveal that you already had. And Harry had been the only one you’d ever given that moniker to.
“I mean I’d like her to, but if she’s not comfortable with it we don’t have to do it, Y/n.” Harry quickly interrupted. You knew he was doing a bit of damage control. Perhaps that little thing would just be a secret between you and Harry. You were okay with that, you figured. You didn’t want him getting into trouble with Kit.
“Yeah. That’s fine. I don’t mind. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”
“Okay. Good. I’m okay with it, I think. We’ll feel it out and see if we like it,” Kit said, seemingly unbothered.
With the music playing you felt Harry’s pinky graze your bare thigh and Kit leaned forward to grab your glass of wine and hers, handing you yours.
“You smell so good, Y/n,” she said to you with a dreamy look on her face. “Doesn’t she, Harry?”
Sipping your wine you heard his deep voice from your right as he spoke, “She smells delicious.”
The change of the song and Harry’s pinky ghosting at your thigh and Kit’s closeness with her eyes on you had you feeling excited. Your heart began to lob in your chest, faster and faster.
Kit ran her finger up your neck, “You’re so shy. I really love it. Y/n, we’re going to make sure you have fun tonight.”
She got onto her knees and reached across you to pull at Harry’s hand and drew him in for a kiss. You watched them as they wound their mouths together right in front of you. You were smushed back into the couch with your eyes on their lips and watched their tongues meld and lick and heard Kit moaning.
When they parted Harry grabbed your empty glass of wine and placed it on the coffee table before he cradled the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. He wanted to feel your silky lips on his and he wanted to make sure you were included in the fun too. He would see to it you weren’t left out.
Kit watched her husband kissing you, their nanny with amazement. It was the first time she’d ever gotten to enjoy this sort of thing and she already loved it.
You felt Harry’s warm and wet mouth pull away from yours as Kit took over and pressed her lips to yours. The way it felt to have her mouth on yours versus Harry’s was night and day. Kit was soft and unmistakably feminine and you moaned as you reached up to pull your arms over her shoulders. With your body turned toward Kit you felt Harry’s big palm slide up your thigh and lift your skirt just a little before his chest was pressed into your back and his lips were on your neck.
“Can I mark your neck, sweet girl,” Harry groaned into your sensitive skin as Kit’s mouth moved with yours flawlessly.
“Yes, Daddy…” you breathed out the words and hadn’t even realized you said Daddy until the name hung in the air immediately after you’d said it. But no one seemed bothered. Kit only became more fervent and you felt her hand slip under your soft sweater.
“Can I touch you? Will you give us permission to touch your body and play with you now?” Kit panted her words before dotting kisses on your cheeks.
“Oh god. Yes, you can. Anything you want.” You meant it. If they wanted to touch your naked body or see it or tear your clothes off you were already so far gone you just wanted to please them. Everything was green for you so far.
You hissed softly and felt the pinch and sting of Harry’s lips at your neck as he marked you like he wanted.
Kit’s hand slid up your tummy to your pretty bra and she squeezed your plushy tit under her palm, “Just say if you don’t want something. Fuck you have such nice breasts, Y/n…” she leaned back and lifted your sweater before dipping down to kiss over the sheer lacy fabric over your nipples and you gasped.
Harry put his hand on your neck and turned your face toward him roughly, smearing his mouth against yours with a deep moan. You opened your mouth to let his tongue inside and you felt a drizzle of arousal pool into your panties. You loved the way it felt to have his big palm on your neck and his mouth ravaging yours while Kit’s lips and tongue worked over the flimsy fabric of your bra, wetting it and making your nipples hard underneath.
He could feel your delicate pearls under his palm as he used his thumb to squeeze you gently. But when he heard your tiny whimper his cock throbbed in his pants and he pulled at you, “We need to get her upstairs in bed.”
Kit grinned and the three of you awkwardly made your way upstairs. The moment you were in their bedroom Kit had her hands at your skirt, pulling at it, “Want this off of you. Okay? He’s had the chance to see your body but I haven’t yet. I’m dying to see you.”
Harry unbuttoned his shirt as he watched his wife remove your skirt and then peel off your little sweater. He walked up behind Kit and pulled at the bottom hem of her dress to pull it off, “Need you out of this too, Kitty.”
You’d never heard him call his wife Kitty before but it made sense now that you’d heard it.
The moment you saw Kit in her tiny black thong and her amazing tits out (she was sans bra) you dropped your mouth open. Her body was insane. She had a tattoo of a flowering tree on her ribcage and another at her hip with shooting stars. It fit her perfectly.
Harry put his hands on her shoulder as he stood behind her and kissed her neck, his eyes on yours.
“My tits need some love, Y/n. Come here,” she reached for you and it was easy to enjoy the way it felt to have a soft breast in your mouth. You sucked at her nipples and lapped your tongue over her skin with your hands cupping both sides, smushing your fingers in to really feel how soft and lovely it was. You couldn’t believe you’d never done anything with a girl before. You were certainly glad Harry and Kit were so forward.
Harry moved his position from behind his wife to behind you. You hadn’t expected to feel his hands at your bum, squeezing and pulling at your cheeks before giving you a soft smack.
You jolted slightly and looked up at Kit with a laugh.
Harry pressed his hips into your bottom against your pink lacy panties and groaned, “Beautiful ass.”
Kit grasped your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss. Soft and tranquil, wet and warm. There was an easy difference in the way a woman kissed than a man and you adored it.
You felt Harry’s hand at your bottom, pulling at your panties to slide into your crack to give him access to your full bottom. The sudden warmth and wetness against your bum cheek might have startled you more if he hadn’t given you a swat just moments prior. His mouth and tongue moved over your flesh slowly until he pasted a wet kiss right over where your panties were stuffed into your bottom.
He gripped your hips and pushed his face in further, soft lips kissing along where your panties were, “Gotta get these off, okay, Y/n? As pretty as they are,” he put his fingers into the band of your lacy panties and pulled them down your ass and legs and you continued kissing Kit with a wet, desperate tongue.
But you gasped and your eyes bounced open when Harry's mouth found your pussy from behind. He pulled your cheeks and put his mouth between them, licking over your labia. You couldn’t help but to turn to look behind you as best you could to watch his dark curls from behind you.
Kit’s hands slid to the back of your bra and unhooked your clasp to get you out of your bra, “Oh shit.” She took you in and delicately moved her hands over your tits, “Gorgeous.”
Harry stood up and pulled his shirt off his shoulders and then began to take his pants down and underwear. He was too hard in his pants to keep them on. He watched as Kit pulled you to the bed. Now that you were completely naked Kit wanted to see you spread out.
You were pushed to your back and she climbed between your legs, “Can I eat you out a little, Y/n? Missed eating pussy.”
You nodded quickly as Kit smirked at you and gave you one more soft kiss to your lips.
You saw Harry come up behind her and look down at you as his wife bent over to press her lips to your cunt. He looked from Kit’s ass to your face and pulled at her g-string to move it to the side as he pressed his fingers into Kit’s entrance, “So wet already, Kitty. You don’t get wet f’me like this.”
Harry’s strong and broad shoulders, the view of his dark tattoos scattered on his chest and arms made you wish Kit wasn’t in your way so you could see him unobstructed.
Kit moaned and lapped at your clit as she looked up at you, “I just love how she feels, H. I’m so horny looking at her body.”
Harry could agree with that assessment. He was already throbbing and he hadn’t even had his cock touched yet. Not that his wife couldn’t get him worked up but having you in the mix was exciting. New.
He fucked into his wife with his thick fingers from behind her slowly and loved the way you sounded when you moaned. He reached down to grip his cock and stroke himself as he looked at your pretty face. Moving his fingers from Kit’s pussy he slid his tip up and down her crease and she lifted and looked back at him, “Yes, H… fill me with that big dick.”
“Yeah? Want this big cock, baby?” He looked at you as he asked.
You moaned when Kit wrapped her lips around your clit again and you felt her fingers thrust into your soft, wet hole.   
Harry felt good plunging into Kit as always. She was familiar and welcoming. He knew exactly what to expect and exactly what she needed to get off. But this time, as familiar as Kit felt, it was so different as he thrust in and pulled back to his tip with his eyes on yours.
He began to rock into his wife and each thud into her pushed Kit into your pussy harder. Kit was bent down with her mouth on your cunt, her ass in the air at the edge of the bed while Harry stood, feet on the floor, and fucked his wife from behind. But he had a great view of your face and your tits. It almost felt like he was already fucking you with the way your eyes were locked on his.
The delicious surge of Kit’s fingers digging into your pussy and her tongue on your bud had you spinning. But it was Harry’s eyes on yours as he grunted with each roll of his hips that had you nearly at your end already.
Kit lifted and looked at you. When you felt her lips move away you quickly shot your gaze back to hers. She continued fingering you, “You gonna come for me, Y/n? Fuck!” She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed herself back onto Harry as she used her free hand to rub her clit, “God, right there, H.”
When Harry began to go in sharper, Kit placed her mouth back on your pussy and moaned at the way her husband was pounding into her. His deep thrusts were making her press into you.
He grasped Kit’s hips harshly and moaned at the view of his cock stretching his wife out and then looked back at you with your lips parted and your hands squeezing your tits together. Your neck elongated.
The sharp spike of stimulation made you cry out and you couldn’t stop the spiral in your tummy from tensing and twisting as you came. Soft wet lips on your clit and slender fingers pumping through your walls felt amazing. But when you heard Harry groan loudly as he began to come inside of Kit you opened your eyes to find his fixed on yours, mouth dropped open with deep breaths heaving from his picturesque chest.
You felt the final deep thrust as the last of his come drained from his cock into his wife as her mouth smashed into you.
You were both breathless as you came down from your orgasms. The eye contact felt intimate. You loved the way it made you feel connected to Harry and to his wife.
Harry grinned and watched as he slowly slid his cock out of Kit, pinching his fingers into her hips, “Y/n, would you like to eat my come from my wife’s pussy? How does that sound to you, sweet girl?”
You nodded and Kit lifted her face from your pussy slowly. Her own chest was heaving as she was so close to her orgasm, “I love that idea. Want to taste Harry dripping out of me, Y/n?”
You pushed yourself up by your elbows, “Yeah, how should I…?”
Kit crawled over you and pushed you down. She brought her cunt to right over your face and let a bit of Harry’s come trickle out onto your chin and your lips, “We’ll do it like this. Now eat.”
With that, she settled her pussy down onto your mouth and you closed your eyes as you sucked and tried to use your tongue the best you could. You tasted the saltiness of his come and the sharpness of Kit’s arousal mixed as you swallowed and pulled at her folds with your lips. The idea that you were getting to drink Harry’s come made you shiver in delight. You never imagined that you’d be swallowing his come down your throat.
When you felt a big, hot mouth dot kisses along the inside of your thigh and felt the grip of a big hand lifting your leg you were spurred on to lick and suck at Kit harder. You were reminded that there were three people in the room.
You felt Harry’s shoulders push against the back of your thighs and felt a deep vibration of something he mumbled against your pussy before his wide flat tongue licked upward before gently rolling your clit in his mouth, his slick muscle pressing and swirling over it.
The sensation of Harry eating you out in comparison to how Kit did it was night and day. Kit was warm and soft, precise. Harry was like a caveman starved, masculine, and messy. You could already feel the way he was smearing your arousal all around your pussylips and the crease of your thigh.
Kit began to rub at her clit as she brushed her pussy over your lips. Her essence was getting all over your face and you really kind of liked the taste. It wasn’t that different from yours, the smell and taste of it.
“Oh my god, baby, those lips,” she moaned and pinched at her nipples as she began to come.
You could feel her shaking and the way her pussy hole fluttered over your mouth, her hips jerking as she rode into your lips and bumped into your nose.
Meanwhile, Harry was moaning into your pussy and lapping at you like ice cream melting. When you felt the addition of his fingers gently poking past your slippery muscle you let out a muffled groan into Kit’s pussy.
Harry lifted your hips up further and dug in deeper. With the new angle, it felt different and you were unable to gain any leverage with your legs at all. You were totally at his mercy with any movement below the waist.
Kit lifted off and sighed, “Such a good girl, Y/n. How was that?”
You gasped and tried your best to respond while your pussy was getting wrecked with Harry’s mouth and fingers, “I like… really liked it!”
Kit softly ran a finger up your neck and to your cheekbone, “Yeah? For a first time that was good. I think we’ll need more practice but that can be arranged. Can’t it, H?”
Harry grunted and smeared his mouth against your clit. You couldn’t hear it if he responded or not but then when Kit moved away you watched as she grasped Harry’s hair and pulled him off your pussy, “Right, Harry?”
He looked dazed as he darted his eyes from his wife to you, “What?”
“Is her pussy that good that you couldn’t hear me?” Kit laughed.
You saw Harry gulp as he stood up and it was the first time you noticed the big tiger tattoo on his left thigh and the laurels on his hips. He was a piece of art, “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said we could arrange to do this again,” Kit sat back onto her haunches as she looked at her husband.
“Yeah. If Y/n wants.”
Kit looked at you and back to Harry, “So what do we think? Need a break? Are we ready to relax? We’ve all had our orgasms.”
Inwardly you pouted and wanted to throw a fit. You had come but you really really wanted to suck Harry off and have him fuck you. You wouldn’t mind eating Kit out again, but you felt you weren’t done with Harry. Needed a little more.
Harry laughed, “Ready to relax? Kitty, I’m just getting started. I kind of hoped I’d be able to have you choking on my cock or something,” his cocky grin beamed at his wife.
“Choke on your cock? Maybe I’ll let you choke on my dildo. You know I don’t do that. If Y/n wants to she’s welcome to it.”
You sat up and looked from Harry to his wife as they discussed what would come next. Harry looked you up and down like you were going to be an indulgent meal, “Want my dick in your mouth, sweet girl?” Harry gripped his shaft and slowly slid his hand up and down. He was only half-hard. He needed a minute to get back to full mast after his orgasm.
“Yes. I would really like that, Harry.” You looked from Harry to Kit to make sure everyone was on board.
“I think you mean Daddy. Right?” Harry’s stern voice had you sitting up straight.
“Yes, Daddy. I want it.”
Kit softly moaned, “She’s such a sweet girl, Harry. Enjoy your blowie. Mind if I get some water? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
Harry kept his eyes on you, “Go on. We’ll be fine. Right, Y/n?”
You nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”
Kit paused and looked from you to her husband but then shook off the tiny alarm going off in her head before leaving you two alone.
“Get down here. On your knees. I’ll take it easy on you.”
You climbed off the bed and got to your knees. Harry pumped his dick right over your face and reached down with his free hand to grasp your neck to pull at you, making you sit up further, “Your pearls are so sweet. Did you dress up just for, Daddy?”
“I did. Wanted to be cute for you.” You smiled at him with wide eyes.
“Cutest thing I’ve ever seen, Y/n. Now, get it all wet. Lick all around. I want to get nice and hard for your throat. And maybe if Kitty doesn’t mind, she’ll let me fuck you. Would you like that?”
Your heart pounded as you looked up at Harry and nodded, “Yes, Daddy. Really want to feel you.”
You began to tongue along Harry's long shaft. From the base where he had trimmed dark hair to his tip. You plopped your lips around his crown and gently sucked, making him hiss before you dragged your tongue down to his base and back up again to wet every inch of his girth. You were amazed at the sounds coming from him. Soft and whimpery. You lowered your mouth to his sack and smoothed your tongue and lips along the skin before opening wide and pulling half into your mouth.
“Fucking angel. Shit, I love that.”
You noted his reaction to your mouth on his balls. To save for another day.
When you drew your tongue upward again, along his length you felt him plump. His cock grew harder and harder until he was rigid and completely ready for fucking again.
“Now suck on it,” he pressed the back of your head to urge you down over him.
You wrapped your lips around his head, saliva pooling at your tongue and dripping down his cock as you slowly began to take him in your mouth. Deeper and deeper. He was thick, though and you were concerned your mouth wasn’t big enough or that your teeth would graze his skin. But you pressed on, doing your very best.
He kept his hand at the back of your head and helped gently guide you down, “Come on. You can get a little more in there, baby. Fucking so good with that mouth.”
You felt his tip nudging at the roof of your mouth and slip in close to your tonsils and you gurgled, swallowing around his tip and making him choke out a loud moan.
You did it again, loving the way he responded and you felt him slip in deeper, yet you still hadn’t gotten him all in. He was likely a bit too long for you to take him all. You’d need practice.
The sound of you gagging wetly and Harry groaning filled the room as your eyes watered.
“Jesus Christ, Y/n!” Harry watched your lips as they parted around his cock, drooling down your chin.
You could hear Kit when she came back. She’d said something but you were so fixated on Harry’s cock and making him feel good that your brain was fuzzy and out of focus. The only thing that mattered was making Harry feel good and you couldn’t care about anything else.
The grip he had on the back of your head and the way his hips were moving felt like he was enjoying you as you wetly spluttered on his cock as it grazed the back of your throat.
When Harry pulled you off you sat back and looked up at him expectantly. Harry kept his eyes on you. He looked like he was proud of you as he spoke, “Kitty? Can I fuck this sweet thing? Want to feel to her around my cock.”
You watched Harry as Kit answered, “Okay. I think that sounds hot. Just use a condom, though. Is that okay with you, Y/n?”
You nodded, still focused on Harry, “Yes.”
Kit led you to the bed to lie on your back and kissed you softly, “I’ll play with you a little and probably kiss Harry too while he’s fucking you. Is that okay?”
You finally looked at Kit, breaking the spell you were under with Harry, “That’s fine. Yeah.” You nodded.
“And if we do this again maybe I can wear a strap-on and fuck you too.” Kit raised her brows.
You nodded and smiled. Harry was busy putting a condom on as he listened to his wife talking to you. He hated to admit it to himself, but he loved it when Kit stepped out of the room for a bit. He felt freer to express himself with her gone. Was less worried about sounding like he was preferring Y/n to her.
But he wondered if once he got his cock inside of you how he’d feel. Would he be able to overcome the way he wanted to just dominate you and claim you for himself? It was a slippery slope what was happening but he was freefalling into his dominant persona with you and it felt odd having his wife watch it all. He hoped he didn’t get too into it and lose track of what was really happening.
Harry crawled onto the bed between your legs and thumbed at your clit as he watched Kit kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. Wanted to start off nicely with a warm kiss and push into you that way. So he waited while his wife groped your tits and licked into your mouth.
You reached down to Harry’s hand, where his thumb was at your bud and you bucked your hips upward. He had the most gorgeous view of your wet pussy, just waiting and ready to stretch open for his cock.
When Kit finally pulled her mouth away Harry leaned over you, “I’m gonna kiss her for a bit, Kit. If you don’t mind,” and then he pasted his mouth against yours and lined his cock up with your entrance.
When you felt him push past your tight muscle you could have cried. He was wide and long and you were so wet and he began to thrust in and slowly, his mouth devouring yours. He went in with long strokes, sinking in until he couldn’t push in any further. His muscles working into you, thighs and bottom and back flexing and indulging.
Harry lifted his face from yours to look down at you, cupping your jaw, “You doing okay?”
Your mouth was wide open as you nodded, “So good, Daddy.”
Harry cooed at you as he began to fuck into you harder, making your tits wobble with the force.
Kit leaned over you and began to kiss you again but you could hardly kiss back with the way your pussy was being pounded into and the sound of Harry’s groans were all you could focus on. He liked your pussy, you could tell. And that had your heart singing and your body buzzing.
He loved how your pussy looked wrapped around his cock, tight and juicy as he pushed in and brought himself back to the tip before ramming into you again. He wanted Kit out of the way so he could see your face but he knew he couldn’t ask her to move. She was going to be part of this.
But when he dipped in especially deep, the puffy head of his cock nudging into your cervix and hitting your g-spot with each stroke you gasped and moaned loudly, making Kit move back.
“Daddy!” You howled as Harry panted and repeated what he’d just done. You squealed and threw your head back. It felt so good. He was pushing into your guts and breathing heavily over you.
Harry was glad he’d already come so he could last a bit longer with you. He wanted to drag it out. Really get to fuck you properly and feel you. It was lush being inside of you and hearing your pretty voice respond to him.
“Like Daddy’s cock, baby?” He spoke between gritted teeth as he pushed your thighs into your chest and leaned over you, nearly folding you in half so Kit couldn’t interrupt again. He was getting hot and dizzy for you. Wanted you all to himself.
“It’s the best! Oh fuck!! I love it. I want it… oooh! Need you so bad, Daddy!” You weren’t really sure what words came from your mouth as he pushed into you at the new angle, but all you knew was that your entire world was Harry. Harry… Harry… Harry… He was on you and in and he liked it. You were making him feel good.
“Need me, baby? Need this cock inside your little pussy?”
Harry’s balls were aching as he nudged into you, his sac pressed into your bum each time he bottomed out.
“Yes…” your voice was shaky and breathy as he railed you into the mattress.
Harry let go of your legs to lean over you and press his mouth against yours once again. Wet and hard, teeth scraping and moans of debauchery.
“Need you too, baby. Needed this fucking pussy. You gonna let Daddy own this pussy, baby?”
“Oh god, yes Daddy! This pussy is yours!” You whined.
Kit was at the edge of the bed watching the spectacle and she was quite turned on by the scene. She gently rubbed her pussy as she watched her husband railing you but the words spoken between you and Harry had her feeling a bit weird. She knew she should call a time out but she wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. You were in throws of passion, she tried to reason.
“Holy shit, Y/n!” Harry moaned as he felt you begin to squeeze around him. His pelvis rubbed into your clit and the little sparkles of your orgasm started to grow and grow with each yummy thrust into your clenching walls. His cock spread you wide and his pelvis smeared into your bud as if his body was made for you. The angle was exquisite. Harry thought so too.
“Coming on Daddy’s cock, Y/n? Fucking creaming all over me baby.” He let his strokes go long and deep and languid as he hovered over you, his arms and back flexing as he rolled into you.
You were stunned and unable to speak for moments on end. Your vision went blank and your ears fuzzed out with a ringing white noise that blocked all sound.
Harry moaned a laugh at how hard you were coming, “Feels good doesn’t it baby? Cock is made for you…” his deep thick voice gave away that he was about to come. Kit recognized it.
“Don’t come inside of her. Even with a condom,” Kit sat up and watched closely as you finally gasped and cried out. For some reason the idea of her husband coming, even if inside a condom, while balls deep in another woman didn’t feel right.
Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He wished he would have known before but of course, Kit hadn’t even been sure that was something she didn’t want.
He kept working into you, letting you ride out your orgasm as you moaned and babbled Daddy, yes Daddy over and over again.
When your eyes finally peeled open Harry had slowed his thrusts and he dipped down to kiss you. It was messy and wet. He was on edge, his orgasm so close his balls were vibrating.
He looked down at you and thumbed over your cheek, “Flip over for Daddy. Gonna fuck you from behind and come on your back okay?”
You moaned and nodded as Harry pulled out and watched you lay on your tummy, ass nudged up.
Harry looked at Kit, “Not gonna come inside her. Don’t worry.”
He smoothed his hands over your ass and squeezed, parting your cheeks as he lifted your hips slightly to angle you up for his cock.
Harry pressed back into you, both of you sighing in relief, “Thank you, Daddy…” you mumbled into the comforter.
“Rub your pussy for, Daddy. Want you to feel good, baby.”
You did as he said, reaching your hand down between your body and the mattress as you fingered over your clit and Harry’s loud grunts were timed with each of his strokes into you.
His hips were slapping into your bottom and the tightness of your cunt around him and the view of your pretty anus was like fine art. It was slushy and wet.
You pushed back against him and felt saliva stream out of your mouth onto the bed below.
“Want your come, Daddy,” you quickly slicked your fingers back and forth along your clit as Harry’s masculine moans grew deeper and louder as he neared his end. “Please, Daddy!”
Harry watched his cock disappear into you over and over again, “Want my come, baby? Deep inside your cunt? Want to be stuffed with it?”
You nodded into the mattress, “Yes…” you whined.
“Sounds so fucking good,” Harry cooed as he began to tremble. His arms grew wobbly as his balls tightened. His cock twitched and pulsed and he quickly pulled out, ripping his condom off before spurts of his come started to pump from his dick. He wrapped his fist around himself and milked his shaft, pouring all over your back as he used his free hand to keep your cheeks spread apart. In a daring move, he released the last bit of himself over your ass and pussy as he loudly choked out a moan.
With his chest heaving and your ass swaying back toward him in hopes of him pushing his come inside of you the voice of Kit pulled you from your dreamy haze.
“Get up.” She did not sound as happy as she had been not long before.
Harry removed himself from your body and you pushed yourself up and turned to look at them.
“That’s not what I meant when I said don’t come in her. Coming on her back was okay but then on her pussy like that? You should have asked me first.”
Harry looked at you with his come all over you and back to his wife, “Sorry, Kit. It was all just in the moment. I shouldn’t have come on her like that.”
“I just… I don’t know. We need to talk about this more I think. But not with her here.” She gestured to you.
You were sort of stuck with your ass in the air, unable to move much because of Harry’s come on your back.
“Okay. That’s fine. We’ll talk. Let me clean her up,” Harry pointed at you.
“She can clean herself up. We don’t need to baby her, Harry.”
“Come on, Kit. She deserves to be treated nicely. And it’s on her back. She needs help.”
Kit suddenly walked away and Harry leaned onto the bed to look at you, “Are you okay?” He put his hand on the back of your thigh.
“Yeah. I’m okay. I didn’t mean to make her mad.”
Harry looked over his shoulder and back at you, “She’s not mad, sweetheart. This is all new for us so she just needs a minute. I’ll be right back with a towel okay?”
You felt a burning embarrassment slither down your spine at the idea that Kit didn’t like something you’d done. It was exactly that thing you had wanted to avoid. You loved being with Harry and Kit but you knew you let yourself get lost with Harry and you went too far. You’d fucked everything up and now you were surely going to lose your job and Kit would hate you forever.
Harry got back onto the bed with you and gently wiped at your back, “Don’t worry about anything. You did nothing wrong, Y/n. Okay?”
You nodded and kept your eyes cast down over the comforter in shame. Nothing felt good anymore. You were humiliated. And even though Harry said you’d done nothing wrong it didn’t feel that way.
You put your clothes on silently as Harry slid on his pants and Kit returned, “I want her to go home.”
Harry stood quietly as he looked at Kit in her robe. You let your sight flit between Harry and his wife and noticed the way Harry looked like he was fuming. Pissed.
“Absolutely not. We invited her to stay. She didn’t do anything wrong, Kit. What is wrong with you?”
“I want to talk and I don’t think I can do it with her anywhere near me.”
“Why are you talking about her like she’s not standing right here?” He gestured at you.
Kit sighed and looked down, “I don’t feel comfortable, Harry.”
A scoff fell from his lips, “Well geez. Just imagine how she feels.”
Kit looked at Harry with a scrunched brow, “Are her feelings somehow more important than your own wife’s right now?”
Harry shook his head and ran his hands over his face, “I’m not saying that. I’m saying hers are just as important as yours. She’s a human, Kit. Fuck.”
Kit left the room again, stomping as she walked into the hallway.
Harry turned and stepped in front of you, taking your hands in his, “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t know she would act this way. I’ll get the guest room set for you but you can’t drive after all that wine we drank and I’m not letting you take an Uber home alone at this hour.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I’ve never had any bad experiences with Uber drivers-“
“No fucking way I’m allowing it. You’re staying here and that’s final.”
Harry walked out of the bedroom and you plucked up your bra and panties that were lying on the floor and followed him to the guest room.
But you stopped before you went inside when you heard him and Kit arguing quietly.
“That was too intimate, Harry. Her asking for your come and you saying how good that sounded. Saying your cock is made for her? Fuck.”
“Kit, we were having sex. I can hardly remember what things were said to be honest. I was caught up in the moment.”
“I shouldn’t have let you fuck her.”
“Maybe not, but it’s done. Too late to take it back now. Jesus.”
“I don’t want her here. Now all I can think about is the way you two were just ignoring me and enjoying each other. I was completely left out there at the end.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”
Kit sighed, “Me too. I feel disgusted. You should sleep on the couch tonight.”
“Come on, Kit. Don’t be like this. You know we were all just having fun.”
Kit walked out of the bedroom and stopped when she saw you. The look she gave you told you to keep your mouth closed and move out of her way. It felt like a threat. A warning.
You stood silently in the hallway as Harry made up your bed and you felt tears stream down your face. Kit suddenly walked up to you and handed you your bag roughly before walking back to her bedroom and closing the door behind her.
Harry peeked out of the room and saw you standing with your bag in your arms and tears in your eyes.
His heart dropped as he pulled you into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around you, one hand cradling the back of your head as he shushed you, “Don’t let her get to you, baby. Please don’t cry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
You gulped and the softness of Harry with his arms around you made you cry harder. You tried to stop your tears but everything had really just made you so overly emotional. You’d gone from ecstasy straight to shame and humiliation.
He rocked you gently back and forth and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t even get to love on you after. I’m so sorry. I wanted to make it so special for you and it was ruined. Please don’t be upset. I’ll make sure Kit’s okay by the morning, okay sweetheart?” Harry held you out in. his arms and looked at you. He thumbed at the tears under your eye and you blinked up at him.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed your forehead.
Leading you to the bed he pulled the blankets down and patted at the mattress, “I’d help you change into your night clothes but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to do that right now. Are you gonna be okay in here? The bathroom is right there,” he pointed at the ensuite guest bathroom. “Towels are in the closet. I’m gonna go and talk to Kit and see if I can calm her down. Text me if you need anything. Okay?”
You nodded with a pout. You were doing your best to hold your stupid tears in as Harry hugged you again and then stopped at the doorway and turned to smile at you sheepishly before closing the door and leaving you cold and alone and shattered.
Part 3
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willowbelle · 2 months
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Open Flame
❤︎ portgas d ace x fem reader ❤︎
༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧
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cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, dom!ace, sub!reader, ace is a smug tease, kitchen sex, fingering, piv sex, bent-over-the-counter sex, cream pie, use of "good girl" , "baby" & "sweetheart"
summary: reader is a strawhat, reader has a crush on ace (don't we all?) they're the only ones up late at night in the kitchen >:), sex ensues, heat/flame innuendos duh, oh and Ace wears those slutty man plaid boxers (>ᴗ•) !
word count: ~4,000
tagging: @bby-deerling @maddddstuff @eelnoise @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @help-i-lost-my-sock
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Open Flame
Ace’s gaze was allconsuming. 
A spell-binding stare that, ironically, lit a flame within you that couldn’t be tamed.
Your captain’s brother was only supposed to have stayed with you all on The Sunny for a few days, but, before long, days melted into weeks, and Ace had effortlessly ingrained himself, finding a home not just within the confines of the ship, but also within the recesses of your mind.
Ever since his first day with your crew, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed at night, consumed by visions of Fire Fist Ace; his toned figure, his freckled skin, his dark, shaggy hair.
Each toss and turn was a desperate attempt to escape the relentless grip of your infatuation, but his image persisted, vivid and unyielding.
Oh, it was futile. The more you tried to push him from your thoughts, the more he consumed them. His presence lingered, something intoxicating, relentless, enveloping you in a haze of longing and allconsuming desire.
------
You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to find solace in sleep, but your mind races on, conjuring fantasies of those stolen glances, those tan, freckled cheeks. Each scenario plays out in intricate detail, taunting you with the tantalizing possibility of something more.
You release a weighted sigh, your gaze still fixed on the unchanging ceiling. Sleep feels impossible now, so you give in to your insomnia, gently shedding the covers from your body and rising upright.
------
In the depths of the ship's night, you silently slip out of your bunk, navigating the narrow corridors with practiced ease. The Sunny creaks and groans softly around you, its familiar sounds a comforting backdrop to your nocturnal wanderings.
The floorboards creak faintly beneath your weight as you pad through the dimly lit hallway, guided only by the pale moonlight filtering through the fluttering curtains.
A gentle sea breeze whispers through the open window, carrying with it the scent of night blooms and sea salt. As you descend the stairs, your footsteps echo softly against the wooden steps, breaking the stillness of the night.
Entering the kitchen, you flick on the overhead light, casting a warm glow over the familiar surroundings. The room seems to welcome your presence, the comforting hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock offering solace in the solitude of the night.
You move with quiet purpose, your movements fluid and unhurried as you prepare a cup of tea, the gentle clink of porcelain against porcelain punctuating the silence. The rhythmic motion of stirring soothes your restless mind, easing the knots of tension that had taken root within you. 
As you stir the spoon through the steaming liquid, Ace's presence solidifies in your thoughts, his grip on your mind unyielding. There's no escaping his hold, so you allow him to take you, drifting deeper into your imagination. You envision the sensation of drawing him near, tasting his lips, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The thought lingers: would his abilities render his flesh hot to the touch?
Lost in your daydreaming, your senses are momentarily dulled. The rhythmic stirring of your tea slows as you continue to drift in the cocoon of your thoughts, imagining scenarios that seem both tantalizingly real and impossibly distant.
Ace’s lips on your neck, his strong hands around your waist, melting you. 
And then, like a sudden gust of something unexpected, the sound of footsteps shatters the tranquility of your fantasies.  Your heart skips a beat as you raise your head, finding yourself face to face with the object of your affection.
Ace stands in the doorway, his presence filling the room with an intensity that leaves you breathless. 
He has’t noticed me, yet, thank god. 
Unaware of your presence, he remains oblivious, his attention consumed by the remnants of sleep lingering in his eyes. With a lazy yawn and a gentle rub of his eyes, he remains lost in the haze between wakefulness and sleep.
He stands before you, casually shirtless, as he usually is, yet there's something distinctly different about this moment. His chest is bare and his torso is exposed, the warm light of the kitchen accentuating the contours of his chest and the play of shadows across his skin.
Beneath the soft glow, his feet are bare, too, adding to the casual allure of his presence. The only garment adorning him is a pair of loose-fitting red plaid boxers, hanging effortlessly from his sculpted hips
The warm glow of the kitchen lights cascades softly over Ace's toned body, each gentle beam of light dances delicately across his features, accentuating the subtle contours of his handsome, freckled face. As he steps further into the room, the light caresses his golden skin, highlighting the delicate sprinkling of freckles that adorn his cheeks and nose, a testament to the countless hours spent basking in the sun's embrace.
And suddenly, to your dismay, his eyes, dark and enigmatic, lock onto yours, and for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still.
A weary grin creeps onto his face as he senses comfort in your company.
"Trouble sleeping, too?" the timbre of his voice is soft and raspy, colored by the remnants of sleep. As he speaks, he ambles towards the fridge, effortlessly navigating the kitchen space. With a fluid motion, he swings the refrigerator door open, stealing a quick glance in your direction as he begins to sift through its contents, awaiting your response.
“Uh, yeah,” you chuckle softly, stumbling over your words. Surely, you were dreaming. You rub your eyes a few times to dispel the remnants of sleep, however, when you open them again, Ace is still there. 
"The waves seem rougher tonight, huh?" Ace mumbles between mouthfuls of food, his attention divided between his meal and the remaining contents of the fridge.
“They do, yeah,” you offer a soft smile, “But I can rarely get to sleep,” you admit, taking a sip from your mug of tea. 
"Oh, really?" Ace's inquiry pulls your attention away from your tea, his sudden gaze meeting yours as he lifts his head from the fridge for the first time. “Why’s that?”
A rush of heat floods your cheeks at the direct eye contact, prompting you to avert your gaze momentarily.
"Just... can't stop thinking," you admit softly, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.
"Hmm," Ace acknowledges with a thoughtful hum before swallowing. "Same here," he adds, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability.
Your curiosity piqued, you lean in slightly, intrigued by his response. "What's been on your mind, Ace?" you ask, voice laced with genuine interest.
Ace hesitates for a moment, glancing around the kitchen before shrugging nonchalantly,
 "You.”
Ace's unexpected confession courses through your veins and renders you speechless. Your heart flutters erratically in your chest, and you struggle to maintain composure under the weight of his words that hang heavily between the two of you. 
It was disarmingly casual, refreshingly honest. Not a rehearsed performance, starkly contrasting the countless nights you spent rehearsing confessions in front of the mirror. You can;t help but envy his effortless sincerity.
His gaze remains fixed on yours, unwavering and intense as he straightens up, closing the fridge.
He slowly makes his way towards you, making your breath hitch in your throat. You swallow dryly as he draws near, and with a gentle yet purposeful motion, he reaches out and takes the mug of tea from your hand, the brief touch sending a shiver down your spine. Setting the drink down on the counter with a soft clink, he closes the space between you, the air crackling with unspoken tension.
You feel his breath on your ear as his presence looms closer, 
“What have you been thinking about, y/n?” he questions, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 
You suck in your bottom lip gently between your teeth, a nervous habit betraying the whirlwind of emotions churning within you. Your gaze locks with his, his eyes like pools inviting you take a swim.
And so, you dive in. 
Time seems to stand still as you hover on the brink of uncertainty, the weight of your unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a soft exhale, you opt for a physical reply, immediately closing the gap, crashing your lips onto Ace’s. 
His hand instinctively finds its home on your soft cheek as your lips meld together, making you moan softly into his mouth.
His lips turn up into a smile against yours, pleased with the sound that escaped your throat. 
It's a moment suspended in time, a delicate dance of longing and hesitation as you explore the uncharted territory of your newfound embrace. Your lips move together in perfect harmony, each brush of skin igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.
Your surroundings seem to fall away as you make out, gently caressing Ace’s sharp jawline as his tongue presses against your lips, silently asking for permission to enter. 
You promptly oblige, parting your lips to allow Ace’s hot tongue to explore your mouth. 
He accepts, groaning softly into your open mouth as his tongue swirls around yours slowly. 
He presses forwards softly, palms resting on the countertop on either side of your hips, caging you in as he leans harder into the kiss. 
You hands travel upwards, tangling themselves in his mess of dark hair as you gently bite his bottom lip, playfully tugging on the tender flesh between your teeth.
“Ace,” you whine breathlessly. 
“Yeah?” the tall man rasps into your mouth, eyes still closed in a blissful surrender, “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” 
Your heart swells at his affectionate words and you playfully parrot his statement from before,
“You.”
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice soft yet brimming with confidence. "That's what I wanted to hear."
You feel your core tighten at his boldness, making heat pool in your crotch. 
As if he could read your body like a book, he slowly begins to snake his toned arm downwards, his hand finding its home on your aching sex. 
Your head rolls back and you let out a pleased sigh at the sensation. 
“Sensitive, are we?” Ace purrs arrogantly, pleased at his own ability. 
“Mm-mhmm,” you whine in admission because he’s right, he tugs those sounds from your body naturally, better than anyone ever has.
His able fingers cautiously meet the waistband of your pajama shorts and he shoots you a questioning glance, silently asking for your permission. 
“Please, Ace,” you whine. 
He smirks at you before dipping his hand beneath your shorts, his middle and ring finger aiming to tease your weeping opening. 
“Needy girl,” he lets out a gravelly groan, “So wet for me already.” 
A dark blush rushes to your cheeks at the lewdness of his words, but he cups your face and tilts your head down, making you watch the meticulous movements of his fingers.
His other hand swiftly snakes around to give your ass a gentle squeeze before dipping his thumb beneath your waistband to tug your shorts down. 
Simultaneously, he swipes his middle finger along your aching slit, the tip of his finger meeting your hole with a precautionary nudge. 
“Mm,” you whine out, excitedly awaiting the intrusion. 
“Yeah?” Ace tests you, stalling his movements, “Come on, baby, show me how badly you want it.” 
Abandoning all dignity, you let your yearnings take the reigns, grinding your hips back and forth against him, soaking his digit in your essence. 
“Good,” Ace mumbles, rewarding your persistence with a press of his finger against your opening. Your cunt greedily accepts his digit, sucking him in. “So tight, y/n, can’t wait to stretch you out,” the man before you smirks and you want to hide your embarrassed face, but you’re too consumed by desire, unable to fall back on your shy tendencies. 
He slowly begins pumping his finger in and out of you, earning delicious moans to escape from your slack jaw and into his ear. 
You bury your face in his neck, his skin radiating heat and carrying the unmistakable scent of fire. It's primal and potent, a blend of burning wood, scorched earth, and smoldering embers. As you inhale deeply, you detect hints of charred debris and smoke clinging to him, a haunting reminder of his fire's destructive power. Yet, there's also an allure to the scent, a sense of safety, evoking memories of his warm flames flickering in the darkness. It's a scent that commands your attention, stirring your senses with its primal energy and leaving an indelible mark, much like the landscape long after the flames have been extinguished.
You’re a mess beneath his touch, biting onto the muscular flesh of his freckled shoulders, whimpering into his ear. He adds another finger, making you cry out at the intrusion earning a palm to your mouth. He works the two digits in and out of you with deliberate precision, hitting your sweet-spot perfectly with each pass. 
You start to see stars as Ace’s thumb meets your aching clit, treating the swollen nub with tight circles. 
The ever-tightening coil growing within your stomach reaches its peak, threatening to snap as Ace continues his dirty work. 
But, before your pleasure can boil over, Ace pulls away, removing his soaking fingers from your needy cunt. 
You’re trembling, weakly holding onto Ace’s muscular forearm to steady yourself as you whine,
“Aceee, w-why’d you stoppp?” your voice is desperate, nearly embarrassingly so, but you’ve long abandoned all your dignity, you just want him to keep pleasing you. 
“Turn around,” the man before you shoots you a wolfish grin, “I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 
The mere idea of passing up whatever Ace is offering fills you with trepidation, so without hesitation, you comply, swiftly turning yourself around and placing your hands on the countertop.
You glance back at the tall man behind you, finding him sporting a smug smirk, dark eyes lidded as he gazes down at you, clearly amused by your immediate obedience. 
Ace’s strong, hot hands meet your hips, griping the flesh tightly as he brings his clothed crotch to lie flush with your bare ass. 
His skin is seeping heat through his boxers, and the sensation causes you to mewl out, goosebumps budding all over your impatient skin. 
He wastes no time as he’s no better, impatient, too, immediately beginning to grind his aching cock against the flesh of your ass. A hearty moan brews in his chest and escapes from his throat, causing a dark blush to dance across your cheeks. You stare down at your fingers gripping the countertop, knuckles growing white against the granite as Ace has his way with you. 
“Fuck,” he leans forward, his bare chest lying flush with your back as he groans in your ear, “You ready for me, baby?” he nips at your ear. 
You roll your hips in response, pressing your ass harder against his erection to accentuate your whiny plea, “Please, Ace.” 
You feel his lips tug into a smirk against your ear, “Say no more, y/n.” 
In an instant, Ace’s plaid boxers meet the kitchen floor, earning a small gasp from you as you watch the fabric pool at his feet. 
Placing one warm palm on the small of your back he uses the other to grip his long, pulsing cock, lining himself up with your weeping entrance. 
Ace grits his teeth as he begins to push his tip inside you, sucking in a shaky breath through his grin as he feels your tight hole opening up for him. 
“Mmm,” you whine out, “Aceee-” 
Your fingertips make a pathetic attempt to dig into the impenetrable granite as Ace pushes himself inside you. 
The stretch is evident, nearly painful, but you endure it, for the reward of having Ace fuck you is beyond worth it. 
His fingertips meet the dip of your waistline with a comforting squeeze as he continues to press forwards, his voice filled with genuine concern, "You're alright, baby?" he asks tenderly.
“Mm-mhm,” you whine, pressing your hips back eagerly, “More, please-” 
“So desperate for me,” Ace groans through gritted teeth, but he rewards your desperation, gripping your waist tightly as he thrusts himself inside you fully, bottoming out,.
“Fuck, Ace!” you cry out, loudly at the feeling of Ace’s lengthy cock suddenly filling your insides. You feel stuffed, letting your mouth hang slack and your eyes screw shut as stars erupt beneath your lids. 
At the sudden sound of your loud moans, Ace’s hand immediately shoots forwards, palm covering your mouth tightly and pressing in firmly to punctuate his point.
Ace’s palm against your mouth makes you realize how loud you just were, and although a surge of longing and desire courses through your veins, beneath the surface, a thread of caution lingers. You are acutely aware of your surroundings, the faint sounds of the ship humming around you, the distant creak of floorboards echoing in the corridor beyond. The two of you are an open flame, and the threat of one of your crewmates walking in tickles at your mind, but is far overpowered by the desire for Ace to rail you. 
“Stay quiet for me, yeah, baby?” Ace groans, his voice a gravelly, promising whisper, “and I'll give ‘ya everything you want.” 
“M-Mhmm,” you nod your head frantically, willing to promise anything if it means he’ll keep going. 
Ace gives you a firm nod, pleased at your response, letting his hand fall from your mouth and find its way back on the other side of your waist. 
His cock throbs inside your tight cunt, making you let out a pleased but quiet moan. The feeling of your hot walls fluttering around his length makes Ace relinquish his control, steadying himself before pulling his hips back and thrusting back into you. 
Your moans threaten to escape loudly, and as much as you want to let it out, you keep them at bay, obeying Ace’s silent order. You tremble beneath him, only allowing a soft, weak moan to erupt from your heaving chest. 
Soon enough, he develops a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you rhythmically, stuffing you full, his blunt tip kissing your g-spot with each pass, making your body melt beneath him. 
He’s strategic, reaching around to rub tight circles into your clit as he fucks you from behind, keeping you bent over the kitcher counter. 
The man behind you is hot to the touch; his skin, his cock, all of him is hot, a stark contrast to the cold granite that rubs against your tits and open palms as he fucks you. 
Ace is huffing behind you, eyes screwed shut as he picks up the pace, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together dismissing the nighttime silence that hung in the kitchen earlier. 
“Fuck, y/n,” he groans, letting his head fall back. His pace increases, becoming more brutal and a bit sloppy as he chases his orgasm. 
One of his hands makes its way upwards to tangle itself in your hair, lacing his fingers in the strands and tugging on them, pulling your head back to make you look at him.
He looks beautiful like this, thrusting into you from behind, freckled face and shoulders tinted red, dark, shaggy hair clinging to his forehead with his sweat, toned chest heaving up and down. 
“Y/n,” he rasps breathlessly, eyes lidded as he stares down at you lustfully, “I-I’m so close-”
The circles he’s rubbing into your clit become tighter, more frantic, his thrusts gaining more power but becoming unsynchronized as he desperately chases his rapidly-approaching orgasm. 
You’re no better, weakly clawing at the countertop as your legs tremble, threatening to give out from under you as Ace continues to pound his length into you. He’s bullying your cervix, overstimulating your sore clit, wildly pulling you towards your own peak. 
“Sh-Shit, A-Ace-!”
In an instant, it hits you; white-hot pleasure, coursing through your veins, making your limbs grow tingly and numb, your knees buckling as they give out beneath you. You’re a trembling mess, gushing onto Ace’s cock as your orgasm reaches its crown, crashing into you with unwavering intensity. 
Ace is right behind you, granting your spent body with a few more weak thrusts before he pushes himself in fully one last time, tip meeting your cervix with a harsh bump before he erupts inside you. 
----
The soft tendrils of morning light filter through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the your bedroom as you stir from your slumber. Blinking sleepily, you rub your eyes, a lingering sense of disorientation clouding your thoughts.
I’m in bed. Did Ace bring me here?
The events of the previous night flood your mind, and you can't help but wonder if it was all just a dream. The memory of your clandestine encounter in the kitchen feels like a distant echo, shrouded in uncertainty and disbelief.
With a sigh, you sit up, the sheets pooling around your waist as you wrestle with the conflicting memories swirling within you. Part of you yearns to believe that it was real, that the tender moments shared between you and Ace were more than just figments of your imagination.
Doubt gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, whispering tales of wishful thinking and misplaced desire. 
But the fresh love bites on your neck and soreness of your cunt must prove otherwise, right?
Lost in your thoughts, you slip out of bed and pad across the room, the cool floor beneath your feet grounding you in the present. With hesitant steps, you make your way to the kitchen, heart pounding in anticipation.
As you enter the familiar space, you let out a deep breath, scanning the room for any sign of Fire Fist Ace. But, to your dismay, the kitchen stands empty, the only remnants of your encounter being the lingering scent of tea and a damp kitchen towel. 
And then, his voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife on ice, 
“How’d you sleep, beautiful?”
You turn, and there, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, is Ace, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that steals your breath away. The sight of him, so real and tangible, dispels the lingering doubts that had clouded your mind.
He grins widely, warmly, a sight that floods your veins with a familiar sensation of heat and joy. 
“Hope I didn’t rough you up too much, pretty girl.” 
With the reassurance of his words, elation and relief climb up your spine and cling to your skin. 
You make your way towards Ace, planting a passionate kiss on his lips before gazing up into his eyes,
“Thanks for tucking me in, Ace,” you blush softly. 
The freckled man chuckles, 
“Anytime.” 
1K notes · View notes
taytei · 8 months
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A ghost kings favorite resting place
[Imagine description below]
[Image ID: a collage of colored drawings of Hua Cheng resting in various positions in Xie Lian’s lap. All warmly lit, as if they’re sitting in sunset glow, except one. Buckle up, this is long.
The upper left an overhead shot of HC in his San Lang form, laid on his back with his head resting in XL’s lap, his arms extended back to rest lightly around XL’s waist. His eyes are closed, with a small and peaceful smile. XL’s face is obscured as he looks down at San Lang, one hand cradling his cheek and the other playing with his crooked ponytail.
Next, Hua Cheng in his ghost king form, sitting upright and cradled with Xie Lian’s arms wrapped around his waist. HC is leaning back into the hold, head tilted up and against XL’s head, eyes closed and his lips curled in a delighted smile. Xie Lian has his chin resting on HC’s shoulder, expression soft and equally delighted. Both have a light blush on their cheeks.
Next, Xie Lian is kneeling, his expression is soft and gentle as he leans over HC (ghost king form) resting on his lap. One hand is resting on HC’s head, hair tangled in his fingers as he brushes it away from his face. The other is cradling HC’s head, pillowing his cheek against his leg. Hua Cheng’s body is mostly obscured behind XL’s legs, with only really his head and is right arm visible. Said arm is curled around in front of XL’s legs, hand lightly gripping XL’s robe. He’s leaning his head into XL’s palm, eyes closed with a light smile, like he’s about to fall into a nap.
Next, Xie Lian is positioned like he’s sitting on a chair, feet planted on the ground. Hua cheng appears to be sitting on the ground next to XL’s legs, upper body sprawled across his legs. Xie Lian is leaning slightly forward, one hand resting on HC’s back, head tilted down enough to see his eyes are fond. Hua Cheng has one arm wrapped behind XL’s back and around waist, while his right arm is laid over the top of his legs. His expression is like a cat absolutely basking in comfort. On Xie Lian’s head, shoulder and hand (the one resting on HC’s back), rests Wraith Butterflies.
The next is a two part companion sketch. One is a smaller drawing. Hua Cheng is in his San Lang form, sitting in Xie Lian’s lap face-to-face. His hands are resting on XL’s shoulders, his legs on either side of XL’s waist. He has a lightly teasing smirk with a gentle blush on his face. Xie Lian is sitting cross legged, with his hands on either side of San Lang’s waist. He looks like he’s happily talking.
The follow up is a bigger drawing. Both in similar positions but more from behind Xie Lian, so his face is now obscured. Hua Cheng has poofed into his ghost king form, pink clouds circling around him to imply the transformation. His arms have now wrapped around Xie Lian’s neck, wrists lightly crossed over each other, with XL’s hair ribbon wrapped around some of his fingers. He’s leaning more forward into Xie Lian’s space, his expression just. Smitten. Singular eye half lidded. Xie Lian’s expression isn’t visible, but vibrant blush lines imply a flustered state. He’s still cradling Hua Cheng in his arms.
Upper right corner are uncolored, monochrome doodles. One of E-Ming resting in a coiled nest of Ruoye, his eye crescented in a pleased smile. Next to it is a chibi style, forward facing doodle of Xie Lian happily squishing Hua Cheng’s cheeks. Hua Cheng is, again, laying on his back, face up, with his hands resting on his chest. His smile is squished, and his one visible eye pleased.
The final colored one is more darkly lit. Xie Lian is seen from the back, sitting cross legged on a cushion at a low-risen table, one hand holding a ink brush up aloft. He’s position as if he’s looking down at what he’s working on. He is wearing a red robe. Hua Cheng (ghost form) has his lower body sprawled across XL’s legs, curling onto his side to wrap is arms around XL’s waist. Hua Cheng’s expression is hidden, as he has his head laid on a cushion in the floor, his hair sprawled messily over the cushion. His fingers are lightly folded over each other on Xie Lian’s side. He is wearing a white robe. The mood is like it’s a late night in their room, only lit by a single candle hidden behind Xie Lian’s form, implied only by a soft yellow light outlining XL. /.End ID
Sorry this is so long, it’s my first time writing an image description gjsjgks
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i’ve always loved the way you eat ; suguru geto
synopsis; suguru is a morning person. he likes the serenity of it all; the quiet of the early hours, the expensive feel of his coffee pot. more than anything, he likes bringing you breakfast in bed.
word count; 4.9k
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, just comfy morning vibes, fluff fluff fluff!!, suguru being a good soon-to-be husband, lots of petnames, reader is whipped (and so am i) but suguru is even worse, i need him biblically.
a/n; this is my personal essay on why suguru geto is the perfect man and wife. bon appetit !!
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something smells good.
as your eyelids flutter open, and you gradually slip out of sleep’s fuzzy embrace, you are engulfed by that one thought. that one sensation.
there’s a sweet fragrance in the air, an unnamed something you can’t place. a force of love.
soft sunrays flit in through the haphazardly closed window blinds of your bedroom, cascading across the floorboards and bouncing off the walls. splotches of sunshine envelop you in a hazy kind of glow; gentle and coaxing, stirring you awake. it feels good on your skin.
indulging in a few more slow blinks, you shift to lie on your back, halfheartedly attempting to chase the sleepiness away. tangled up in silken sheets and fluffy blankets, you stare at the ceiling — but even such a mundane task feels so nice. just wallowing in the tantalizing scent drifting through the bedroom, the flurry of little kisses that the sun smothers you with. 
it’s still early, and you’re still sleepy. outside the walls of your apartment, the sun is rising to its feet, dyeing the world in warm colours; violets and blues melting into pinks and oranges, like an egg cracked open on the canvas of the sky. everything is quiet, not a sound to be heard except for the very distant chirping of cicadas from the trees outside your window. utter peace. like time isn’t even passing.
in the midst of such a precious moment, all you want is to laze around. it’s just that kind of pleasant, mellow morning; the kind that makes you wish the sun would never fully rise.
a satisfied little sigh slips from your lips. content to soak in the heavenly feeling until it passes, your eyes flutter shut — you’re just so sleepy, and the sun just feels so warm. soothing you, making it even harder to stay awake, cradling you in its hazy embrace. sunlit and saccharine.
with the morning fatigue clouding your senses, you don’t even notice the other presence in the room. 
suguru smiles, from his spot by the door — leaning against the wall and gazing at your relaxed expression, an immense fondness reflected in his eyes. taking a moment to silently admire you.
you look so content. tangled up in blankets and pillows, with your limbs outstretched and starfished across the mattress. your hair is a little messy, and you’re drooling just a smidge, wearing his shirt; it’s a couple sizes too big for you, slipping off your shoulder and exposing your sunkissed skin. as suguru’s eyes trail over your features, the fond smile on his face only grows, shifting into something honeyed and giddy. 
you’re perfect, he thinks. absolutely perfect.
a moment passes. then another. suguru continues to stare, as if trying to etch the image of you into his memory. trying to prolong the moment for as long as he can. 
until, finally, he’s had his fill. simply admiring you from afar isn’t enough — he needs to see you up close, needs to hear the sleepy little tilt of your voice. so he opts to make his presence known, voice gravelly and sweet, echoing softly throughout the room.
“good morning, sweetheart.”
softly, your eyes flicker open. the familiar voice sends a tremor of something running through your chest — and suddenly, it feels as if some of the sleep clinging to your skin has been washed away. it’s a little easier to make yourself move, shifting to your side to get a better look at the source of the sound.
and the warmth that blossoms in your chest when your eyes meet suguru’s is almost overwhelming.
(god, he’s pretty.)
suguru looks perfect, in the morning. he looks like the rest of your life. hair a little messy, tied up into a lazy half-done bun, silky black strands cascading down his neck. and wearing a pair of comfy sweatpants that hang a little low on his hips, but no shirt — showing off the curve of his tiny waist, the slight twitch of his arms when he indulges in an idle stretch. 
you try to restrain yourself from ogling his bare chest and arms too much, but it’s tough. frighteningly so. with the sunlight embracing his skin, muscles on full display, he looks a bit like a sculpture. a little too good to be real.
but he is. and he’s yours. and he’s smirking at you, lazily, affectionately — eyes half-lidded as he balances the tray that’s making the room smell so sweet. just standing there, looking so unfairly gorgeous. waiting for you to muster up the energy to respond to his greeting, more than happy to watch the way your eyes soften as they trail across his features in the meantime.
“morning,” is all you can rasp, eyes closing as your cheek sinks deeper into the mattress. a bit too tired to talk to him properly, and a bit too unguarded to look at him without feeling as if your heart is about to leap out of your throat. 
he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 
you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.
suguru doesn’t seem to mind. he only chuckles, voice deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. his lips quirk up into a smooth kind of smile, and he’s quick to make his way to your side; crouching down to meet you at eye level after placing the tray on the nightstand.
a hand comes to caress your cheek. the rough pads of his fingers smooth down your jaw, gentle and doting, as if coaxing you out of hiding. as if you’re made of porcelain. suguru always treats you like you’re fragile, like you’re the most precious thing he has.
(because you are, he thinks. more precious than the expensive vanilla extract he used to make the waffles on the tray, more precious than the diamond-clad ring he’s hidden away in a drawer of the guest room. more precious than anything this world has to offer.)
a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you nuzzle into his palm. suguru leans forward to smear a kiss against your forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on your skin.
the sensation strikes you as just a little heavenly. his touch is so tender, every caress so full of love. instinctual, the way his love bleeds into his touch, trickles down his veins to the tips of his fingers — smoothing along your skin. such a heavy thing, but he just makes it feel so light. 
“still sleepy?” he hums, a little teasing. eyes crinkling, voice bordering on a coo.
and it’s infuriating. the amusement that flickers through his eyes, the way you can tell he’s itching to tease you for being so groggy and tired.
between the two of you, suguru’s always been the one to get out of bed first, to your grave annoyance. and he’s so smug about it. you want to tell him that waking up so early on a saturday isn’t normal, that he’s the weird one for not being sleepy — 
but when he’s cupping your cheek so gently, all you manage is a meek little murmur of mm. one that has suguru stifling a coo, lips curling up into an adoring smile. 
look at you. his sleepy little baby, dyed in sunrays and tiny specks of dust. so effortlessly pretty, tangled up in fluffy blankets, an image so precious he almost feels like he shouldn’t be looking at it. yet he continues to do so, mesmerized.
(suguru doesn’t mind being a little greedy, when it comes to you.)
“i made you breakfast,” he continues, as you melt into his touch. an absentminded action, but almost brimming with trust; the trust you have in him to treat you well. one he’ll always, always affirm. “your favorite. wanna eat with me?”
breakfast.
something in your brain visibly reacts to the sound of the word, shooing away a little of the morning fatigue still clouding your senses. before you know it, you’ve forced yourself into a sitting position, with groggy movements and a soft groan. rubbing the skin beneath your eyes and kicking the blanket off your legs, a little clumsily.
suguru breathes out a soft bout of laughter, low and amused, as you lazily stretch and indulge in slow blinks. his hand goes to ruffle your hair, and all you do is lean into it.
“i’ll take that as a yes,” he teases, eyes full of fondness. you crack a sleepy smile at his amused tone of voice.
suguru’s hands are big, and a little rough, but still so very soft. you could spend hours tracing them — from the tips of his fingers down to the veins of his wrist, across his knuckles littered with small scratches and barely visible scars. stories of his childhood, that he loves telling you about, almost as much as you love hearing them.
you love his hands. they’re so pretty. so warm and grounding, as they smooth down your hair, unmistakably caring. the weight of them is a comfort, as his fingers card through your bedhead, scratching softly at your scalp. a sensation that makes you feel all fuzzy inside.
suguru is just so good to you.
and you’re only further reminded of that fact when your gaze trails over to the assortment of breakfast foods he’s prepared, neatly stacked on the nightstand. all your favorites, made with so much love; and it’s so evident, even just in the presentation. the freshness of the strawberry slices, the perfect amount of syrup spread over the waffles. the cup of coffee made just the way you like it.
maybe it’s the morning fatigue, or just the softness of the moment. the intimacy, so palpable you can almost reach out and touch it. or maybe it’s something else entirely — whatever the cause, you feel your eyes get somewhat glassy. 
a meek little sniffle leaves your lips, and it catches even you off guard.
suguru blinks. suddenly alert, his morning-fatigued brain trying to comprehend the sight of your teary eyes. brain spinning in circles, not sure if it should be telling him to panic just yet. something in him constricts, twists and turns, a desperate kind of yearning to protect you.
but before he can even reach out to wipe away the wetness with his thumb, you’ve latched yourself onto him.
arms snug around his waist, face tucked under his chin. fitting into him like a puzzle piece. breathing in the remnants of the cologne on his neck; a nice bergamot mix that you like, so he sprays on a little extra just for you. so close to him that you can feel the patter of his heart against you, as you soak in his body warmth. 
and his arms find their way around your form just as naturally, without him even having to think. like every bone in his body was born with a desire to cradle you close. like he was crafted in the image of someone made to soothe you. 
being in suguru’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.
”what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.
”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. ”you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”
a pause. 
then, a chuckle bubbles up from suguru’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.
(you’re so ridiculous, he thinks.)
but you only nuzzle further into his neck, all sleepy and affectionate — and it stirs his heartstrings in a way that makes him feel rather helpless. crumbling beneath your touch. gazing at you with soft eyes, a happy little hum buzzing in his throat.
he takes you in, in all your clingy glory; so impossibly sweet. maybe he should have sprinkled some sugar on the strawberry slices, just to see if the taste could ever measure up.
”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. ”i’m sorry, baby. i should be the one saying that to you, though.”
but you just shake your head, arms tightening around his midriff. as if offended that he’d have the audacity to brush off your objectively correct statement, to even think to deny how perfect he is. 
and suguru raises a brow at you, in tandem, a mild protest resting on the tip of his tongue — offended at your blatant disrespect, shaking your head at his factually correct words, as if disagreeing with your own evident perfection. 
but before he can even begin to fight you on the topic, you part your lips to speak.
”thanks for breakfast, sugu,” you sleepily murmur, biting back a yawn. still a little meek, but oh so loving. ”i would die for you.”
he stills, once more. then another soft bout of laughter escapes his lungs, rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm. it makes you feel so terribly safe.
“there’s no need for that,” he assures you. ”don’t you wanna eat instead?”
to his surprise, he’s met with another soft shake of your head. so snug in his embrace that you could practically live there, only clinging to him a little tighter with a huff.
”just wanna hug you first…” you yawn, arms squeezing at his waist affectionately. shifting in his hold until your lips find their way to his neck.
”i love you,” you mumble, kissing down his jaw and collarbone. sleepy, open mouthed pecks, trailing over the expanse of his pretty skin. ”so much.”
it tickles, a little. suguru digs his teeth into his cheek, ever so slightly, just to hold back the giggle that threatens to break out from his throat.
and it’s maybe just a little too sweet, the sensation that blossoms in his chest, something honeyed and flowery; fluttering deep within his ribcage, like a dragonfly buzzing and trying to break free. it gets him a little weak in the knees.
to distract himself from the voice in his head urging him to go get the ring in the guest room drawer right this instant, suguru scoops you up. cradling you close, as he plops down on the mattress, legs crossed to give you space on his lap.
you don’t protest, only snuggling a little closer — as if yearning to tuck yourself away within his ribcage. 
and suguru chuckles, the deep tremor of his voice reverberating through his chest, echoing in your head as you listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart. rubbing your back with a teasing smile, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head.
“i should make breakfast more often if it’ll get you like this,” he grins, basking in the warmth of your body against his. 
a little whine falls from your lips. muffled into the curve of his shoulder, against his bare skin. “it’s not about the breakfast,” you pout, looping your arms around his neck. “it’s everything you do…”
a heat rises to your cheeks, a little embarrassed at the sappiness you’re exuding. but the sun feels so nice on your skin, and the bedroom smells so good, and the whole world feels so kind. 
inhaling the fragrance of bergamot and coffee, you can only fall apart at the intimacy of the moment. 
“i’m really grateful…” you murmur, resting your lips against his skin. buzzing with a warmth that has him shuddering. “‘m just bad at expressing it.”
suguru’s eyes soften. melting into a tender hue, like that of a creamsicle sunrise sky. a dreamy look smoothes over his features, and a fond hum buzzes in his throat.
“nah, you’re fine,” he drawls, squeezing at your hips affectionately. pulling away ever so slightly, just to plant a kiss on your forehead, brushing your bangs away with a certain bleeding tenderness. “you don’t need to say it out loud. i know, anyway.”
and he does. suguru understands you better than anyone; a point of immense pride, for him. knowing you so deeply that he can practically hear your thoughts before you speak them, knowing what you need at a single glance. just from a certain furrow of your brows, or the slight tilt of a smile you’re trying to hide. 
always one step ahead, folding your laundry on days you’re feeling particularly stressed out, or giving your hand a comforting squeeze when he notices that you’re nervous. always so attentive. it’s a little overwhelming, but also so comforting — to be so thoroughly understood.
his eyes are warm. full of pure affection, a devotion so heavy it makes your heart stutter in your chest. all you can do is glance down, shyly, slumping your forehead against his bare chest. 
your voice comes out a little strangled, still raspy. a little wobbly in the wake of your adoration.
“i wanna appreciate you…” is muffled against his skin, your lips curled down into a soft pout. and suguru breathes out a flustered little breath, amused — somewhat delighted.
“you can appreciate me by eating a hearty breakfast,” he suggests, a teasing tilt to his husky voice. cradling you just a little closer, as if even the miniscule distance between you is unbearable. as if he needs your hearts pressed together to keep himself intact. “how about that, hm? or would you rather give me a kiss?”
a moment passes, and a sleepy hum slips from your tongue. he feels your lips touch the soft skin of his neck, once more; then you muster up the strength to pull back from his embrace, slumping against his shoulder with your back against the headboard. it takes concentrated effort.
and suguru chuckles, again. odd, how a man who’s normally so put-together can’t seem to ever hide his joy whenever you’re around. but suguru is just a little too weak for you — he can’t help but let you strum his heartstrings along, however you want. any kind of melody you desire.
(it just so happens that no melody sounds prettier than a joyous one, when it’s falling from his lips.)
a lovesick smile painted on his face, suguru watches as you finally dig in. and he thinks it’s precious, the strawberry juice smearing your lips, the contentment in your features as your eyelids flutter shut. a mellow kind of pride swells in his chest with every satisfied hum that you grace him with, every giddy declaration of how delicious it all is. 
there’s something about it he can’t quite explain, can’t put his finger on. something almost otherworldly, in how fulfilled it makes him feel, like he’s lived his entire life just for this moment. just for the sake of making you breakfast and watching you wolf it all down.
suguru doesn’t think there's a single better way to show his love for you than this; cooking for you, putting every last drop of his love into everything he makes. from beverages to pastries, each of them carefully chosen to suit your tastes.
there’s an intensity to the labour, something that brings him great joy. the care and excitement in something as small as the flick of his wrist when he pours sugar into your coffee, or the weight he puts on the kitchen knife while cutting the fresh strawberries he spent four minutes picking out at the market.
there’s something about it that’s just so, so tender. that earnest wish to see you happy and healthy, to make sure you never go hungry. taking care of you. it's pure, domestic, love incarnate. he’s so weak for it, so sappy, but he just can’t help it — suguru loves watching you eat his cooking more than anything.
that, and your blissful little expression is a sight to behold. sunkissed by the morning rays flitting in through the window blinds, suguru thinks you look something like an angel, soft and fleeting and so beautiful it makes his heart squeeze painfully inside his chest. heavy thumps of blood; warmth trickling from his heart to his wrists to the pads of his fingers, as he rubs absentminded circles into the skin of your thighs.
and he thinks to himself that all the happiness he needs is right here in front of him. in this moment, with you tiredly munching on the breakfast he made, sipping slowly from your cup of coffee and savouring every last drop. smiling at him so sweetly, so positively precious that he simply can't resist leaning down to taste the caffeine off your lips. 
everything feels so wonderful, so completely and utterly right. the world feels so kind, like this. a world where all that exists is you, and him, and the sun. heaven on earth.
all of it sends a tremor running through his heart, every slight change of the scene reflected in his eyes. the soft smile on your lips, the way you lean your head against his shoulder and bite back a yawn, the expectant look in your eyes as you feed him pieces of your food with a giddy grin —
suguru thinks to himself that he’d sooner die than give it up. 
as much as he loves sleeping in, loves indulging in your warmth until the sun sits comfortably on the blue canvas of the sky, he loves this even more. loves dragging himself out of bed before the sun even has a chance to peek out beneath the horizon painted pink and purple, tired and groggy, and so disgruntled at the warmth that leaves him when he pulls away from your skin. loves making his way to the kitchen almost in a daze, moving around the open space so very naturally; fingers curling around the lid of the espresso machine, and the crinkled paper bag of pastries, and the carton of orange juice he bought just for you.
just watching the world wake up, basking in the peace and domesticity of it all. basking in the thought of you — you, with your messy bedhead and droopy eyes, always blinking up at him so sleepily when he returns to you in the morning. he loves it all.
the soft little frown that sometimes tugs at your lips when you’re still lost in dreamland, blindly and subconsciously reaching for the empty side of the bed when he gets up to stretch. the weight of your arms around his waist, hugging his back on the somewhat rare occasion that you make your way to him before he makes his way to you. the grumbles against his skin about how he always abandons you on your days off, even if he only does it so he can make you both coffee.
you, in all your glory — now resting against his shoulder as you plop the last strawberry into your mouth, closing your eyes with a blissful little sigh.
and suguru feels so lucky. so very honoured, to be the one you chose. the one and only person who gets to see you like this, when your voice is still raspy and your hair is still messy, and you have crumbs sticking to your soft lips that you're too sleepy to wipe away.
he does so, himself, with an amused little huff that’s really more of a sigh laced with adoration. thumb smoothing over your skin gently, a silent i love you hanging on the tip of his tongue. his fingers find their way to your skin so effortlessly. like they belong there, like they exist solely to trace the softness of your jaw and to cradle your cheek.
”thank you,” you beam up at him, grinning sweetly. 
and suguru knows that you mean it. he knows that you’re grateful, knows not a moment goes by when you don’t notice his affections, no matter how subtle. he thinks you're a little bit silly for worrying that he doesn't. but he thinks you're even sillier for not realizing that you deserve all of it and more, that just that sweet smile of yours alone is more than enough to make up for it.
more than anything, he hopes from the bottom of his heart that you know the opposite is true as well. that he appreciates every single thing you do, notices everything you do for him, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to you.
you're so good to him. always have been. how could he ever bear to not repay you in tenfold?
”you’re welcome,” he smiles, soft and saccharine and genuine. his lips brush against your forehead with a soft peck, one that has your body melting into his just a little more.
breakfast passes you both by in a flurry of warmth, splotches of sunlight and content hums, until you’re lying side by side beneath the blankets once again. curled up close to each other, with you resting on suguru’s chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart. his arm rests on your back, cradling you closer.
”that was delicious,” you chirp, something soft buzzing in your voice as you bite back a yawn. stretching your limbs out lazily, a honeyed smile on your face. ”as always.”
suguru’s a little too tired to fully hide the soft grin that crawls up to rest on his lips, almost smug. awfully happy with himself, and your words of earnest praise.
“yeah? ’m glad,” he hums, looking at you with affection swimming in his eyes. ”i haven’t lost my touch yet, then.”
”of course not,” you exhale, somewhere in between a huff and a chirp. “you could start a whole breakfast diner with your skills!”
the words are teasing, a little much, but laced with a syrupy sweet sincerity that has suguru’s heart doing laps in his chest. thump, thump, thump — strumming his heartstrings along as you please, conducting the orchestra inside his ribcage. but he’d much prefer to think of you as his muse.
a low chuckle rumbles through his body, akin to a purr. buzzing right by your ear, as his fingers curl around yours, his thumb rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hand. ”you think so?” 
an eager nod, as you gaze up at him happily. the sight makes his lips twitch upward, and he can only hope you don’t catch the way his heart skips a beat.
smoothing a large palm over your head, he tousles your hair fondly. ”yeah?” he chuckles, again. “you'll be my first customer, then.”
the smile on your face widens. ”will i get a discount?” you ask, a fuzzy contentment in the way your eyes glimmer. ”since i’m your favorite.”
suguru grins. a husky puff of laughter seeps out of his throat, filling the air with a palpable fondness. it’s almost overwhelming, the affection that simmers in his chest, a cup overflowing. he wants to reach over and smother you in kisses, wants to coo at you. wants to tell you how irresistable you are, like this; so cute and sleepy that he thinks you could probably coax him into giving you every star in the sky.
but that can all wait for another time. he doesn’t want to break the peace of the mellow moment, the subtle intimacy that lingers in the air. the playfulness in your words.
”of course,” he simply says, indulging you with a sweet smile. ”you’ll get all the discounts you want, baby. nothing less for my favorite customer.”
suguru’s eyes crinkle, brimming with love when he hears the happy little giggle that tumbles from your pretty lips. so pretty that he can’t resist pulling you a little closer, to give you another kiss — relishing in the way you soften against him. like you could fall asleep just like this, so safe and comfortable. breathing him in.
sunlight shines in through the window blinds, engulfing you in that familiar heavenly hue. your bedroom almost seems to glow, like a hazy polaroid, a moment that feels too precious to put into words. 
you look stunning, he thinks, with your droopy eyes and sleepy yawns. absolutely breathtaking. soaked in a brightness rivaling that of the sun herself, the most precious thing this world has to offer.
and suguru thinks to himself that this might just be it. that this might be all that he needs, all that he’ll ever need — but he already knew that.
he thinks of sunrises. of soft embraces and fluffy blankets, of expensive coffee pots and diamond rings, of the way your lips curl up every time he kisses you. he thinks of the light of morning, how it always seems to devour everything else. how it makes every sliver of darkness seem so inconsequential.
he thinks of how your presence always seems to do the same. 
when suguru looks down, pulled out of his lovesick stupor by the sound of a little snore, you’ve fallen back asleep. cheek squished against his bare chest, drooling a smidge as you dream so prettily, your chest rising up and down in a rhythmic serenity.
his heart flutters. fleeting and giddy, a little dove trapped in his chest. with a sweet coo, he reaches over to caress your skin with the back of his hand, careful not to wake you — so gentle that he holds his breath, as if afraid that even a single exhale could disrupt your well-deserved rest. 
butterflies dance in his stomach, when he sees the way that makes you smile. a whirlwind of them, wings fluttering eagerly, as if attempting to fly out of his throat. he gulps them down again, but he can still feel them. just like he could when you first met.
butterflies that still haven't gone away, despite how long you’ve been together. butterflies that never will go away, as long as there are plates to fill and breakfasts to be made.
in other words, they're there to stay — forever and ever.
(suguru’s gaze falls on your ring finger. he thinks of the secret in the bottom of the drawer, and wonders what kind of breakfast he should make for you when it’s time to bring it out.)
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starofthesea7 · 1 year
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König~ Fervently
(Pure filth)
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Your eyes are rolled back in your head, tears glistening against darkly flushed cheeks, drool running down your chin, pooling onto a threadbare mattress. A spring is digging into your ribcage but you hardly feel it, as the bed is slammed over and over against grey cement wall. You can barely hear him, his breathy grunts, “Im so sorry leibling, ah- so sorry. Too rough, i know,” König is a fervent mess above you, desperate for release, unable to restrain himself. His face is contorted with pleasure, muscled arms straining as he holds himself above you, still careful not to crush you with his colossal mass, even in his state of inebriation.
Hes embarrassed- repulsed- at the roughness with which he ruts into you, apologies spilling from his lips as he ruins you, splitting you in half- stretching you out, ruining you for any other man. “I’m so sorry, you’re so good for me liebling, i’m hurting you, i’m - ah!- so sorry.” His mouth parts, raspy breaths like music to your ears. He mumbles, a shamble of german and english, how you’re so small, so tight, stretched so wide, stuffed so full. He’s fucking drooling.
“Told you to use me, ‘s okay.” It’s all you can muster right now, head thrown back, body limp. The fat of your hips recoils with each violet thrust. His head drops to the crook of your neck, overstimulation forcing tears from his glassy eyes. It mingles with your sweat, searing skin melding together. He’s edged himself for hours, cock painfully hard as you suck him in, so tight. He’s so thick, larger than life, gummy walls spasming as they attempt to take all of him in, be good for him, it’s all you ever wanted to be. Make him feel good, allow him to use you, not asking him to hold back like he always did. That’s what you’d told him two hours ago. “Do whatever you want to me, don’t hold back.” Did you regret it? No. Usually he would prepare you, stretch you out, agonizingly slowly, a finger at a time, readying you for him. Not tonight. Tonight was about him.
His breaths become airier, more pathetic as his release nears. You are a ragdoll, limbs spread, nails scratching blindly, a hole as he ruts into you, faster, jerkier, more erratic, his colossal frame curling around you. Your whines echo around you. Breasts bounce painfully, and the sound of his wet pelvis slapping against yours is obscene. Your wetness coats his pale lower stomach and rippling thighs. Brawny arms wrap around your body, holding you so fucking tight. “So, -ah, so close- scheiße.” He lets out a pitiful groan as he stuffs himself into you with a final thrust, holding your pelvises flush as his cock lurches, mushroom head notching so deep inside you- it sends you over the edge. He lets out a pitiful groan as your walls stutter around him, “C- cumming.” You shudder, shaking, clawing at his arms. His voice cracks, cock jumping, spurting inside of you, impossibly deep- you feel it in your guts, hot cum filling you up. You fall limp, stuffed, belly full and warm, you sob at the pressure.
He stills, both of you shuddering with after shocks. His breaths are dense and raspy as the adrenaline haze clears from his mind. He softly thrusts into you, a crackled groan at the feeling of fucking his cum back into you as you squirm.
When he pulls out, he stares with glassy eyes, pupils blow wide, breathing heavily at how he oozes from your puffy slit. His face is flushed and sweaty, lips parted in focus. The image makes him lightheaded. He hesitantly brushs you with his finger, making you jolt at the contact. He groans at the lewd squelch as he pushes his cum back inside you with a finger twice the size of your own, cunt clenching, spasming around him, always so willing, so good for him.
His glazed soft eyes trailed up your body, from your abused, leaking hole, to your hips, bruised and covered with indents from blunt fingernails, to your breasts, covered in sweat and flushed from his mindless gropes. Your face is flushed and glowing with sweat and tears, lips puffy and red. He raises his hand to your cheek, his own face heated with shame as he wipes tears from his inflicted pain.
You know you look a mess of drool, mussed hair and cum, broken and battered beneath him, but he looks down at you with pure venerable adoration, as if you are a shining angel sent from God himself.
@simonsslvt
@sweepyy
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writingsbychlo · 1 year
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gossip | azriel
summary; feyre has her first visit to the night court and cassian just has to tell his best friends all of the gossip, even if it means interrupting their morning plans...
word count; 2951
notes; honesty, this was just a cute little mindless idea I had. no relevance or anything, honestly. dedicated to @azsazz.
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It was unusual that you were the first to rise in the mornings. Azriel’s shadows tended to wake him several times during the night, whether he wanted them to or not, with little alerts and updates, which only became more frequent in the mornings. This morning, however, was one of those rare times you were. One of the few times when the halls in the House of Wind were quiet, the street and roads at the bottom of the mountain silent, barely even a breeze blowing from outside or a bird chirping. 
Many times, your love had woken you with kisses and sweet words, rising you with the rays of the sun and sleepy smiles that threatened to shine even brighter, so it only felt fair to return that favour now. With one arm still slung over your waist, wings slumped happily behind him across the ridiculous expanse of the comfy, luxurious mattress, Azriel was a slight to behold. With tousled hair, lips forming a sweet pout, hardly visible freckles glowing in the morning sun and long lashes that fluttered with his dreams, he was like artwork. 
You only wished you were skilled enough to paint this, or knew somebody who could capture the image for you. Instead, it would live only in your memories.
Leaning close enough to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, it scrunched, twitching lightly in his sleep when you repeated the action, before moving to the cheek that wasn’t pressed into the pillows. A soft kiss right in the centre, one on his cheekbone under his eye, another over his brow. More kisses, several to follow across his forehead as he began to stir, up to his hairline as that pout became a soft smile. 
The sheets rustled around you both as he stretched, legs that had been tangled with yours flexing out to their full length, the hand that had been sitting idly over your body now pressing warm and flat to your lower back. He let out a grunt, a garbled sound that you were sure was supposed to resemble a ‘good morning’ of some kind, to gravelly and deep to make out. As your lips pressed again to his closed lids, his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose and the tip, his hand from your back began a languid trail up your body and over your shoulder. 
As your lips met his warm cheek once again, long and calloused fingers pinched your jaw on either side, a strong grip, to tug your chin down until his lips met your own. The moment your mouths brushed, a soft sigh was leaving your lips, spilling across his own as his lashes now tickled your cheeks when he pressed in. Lazy and slow and sweet, his mouth moved over your own in deliberate strokes, his tongue sweeping an unhurried lick along the seam of your mouth. Another greeting, one of actions and not words, as his hand slipped back under the covers to squeeze at your hip encouragingly. 
You took a breath, barely, his lips dragging over your chin in hardly-formed kisses before your mouths were meeting again, his tongue sweeping happily into your mouth, and the groan he gave was swallowed by your gasp at a sensation that never grew old. Raising a hand to tangle into his hair, the covers dragged, your back now meeting the mattress as he rolled you over slowly, noses bumping together in uncoordinated and clumsy movements, the glorious haze of sleep still clinging to you both like the warmth of whiskey on hazy nights at Rita’s. It was like being drunk, utterly intoxicated on one another. 
Azriel’s mouth detached from your own, a series of kisses growing wetter and hotter as they were trailed across your jaw, your neck, one of Azriel’s thick thighs slotting between your own as he shifted full over you now. Whispered words that ranged from ‘good morning’ to ‘you’re beautiful’, whispered into your skin like reverent praises, like holy prayers, even though everything on his lips sounded like sin. 
With a single sharp tug on his hair, his head rose up, glistening and swollen lips parted for shallow breaths, honey-eyes shallowed entirely by the dark as his gaze met your own, knowing exactly what you wanted. Surging forward, your mouths collided once again, your whimpers crashing against his breathy moans, his weight all but collapsing down against you and wings flaring as your bodies pressed together. 
It was hot, and tender, and needy, the hand that wasn’t holding him up now sliding over your hip, down over your bare thigh, to hitch it up around his waist for his body to slot between and-
“Good morning!”
A yelp almost tore from your lips, a spike of adrenaline setting your heart racing for an entirely different reason. You recognised that overly enthusiastic chirp, the deep and rumbling voice it had come from, and Azriel’s usual frown was replaced by a menacing scowl, as he reluctantly rolled his body off of your own, draping a wing over you as he shifted to sit propped-up at your side instead. He barely had time to retract that wing any further before Cassian was all but throwing himself down onto the bed beside you both. 
“Get out.” It was the first real, discernible words Azriel had spoken yet this morning, not including the ones he’d whispered into your skin minutes prior, and a snicker of a laugh left your lips. 
“How are my two favourite sickeningly in-love best friends doing, this morning?” Cassian crossed his legs at the ankles, obviously far too comfy as he toed off his slippers, still clad in his own pyjamas. You raised a brow, and Azriel only growled a menacing sound. 
“Get out.”
“Oh, Az,” Cassian tutted, and you sighed, hauling yourself up from where you’d been lay in the pillows to sit a little more comfortably, leaning forwards long enough to let Azriel begin to situate himself first. It was clear that the General had no intentions of leaving any time soon. “I’m just preparing you for what it’ll be like when you two eventually have kids.”
“No, because my kids will be well-trained.” As he settled comfortably, one arm looped around your shoulders, over your collar to tug you back into his body, stretching out across the pillows, and the other landed on your thigh under the covers. A reassuring squeeze, a stroke of his hand above your knee. You smiled. “My kids will know not to burst into the room when daddy is lay on top of mommy, or else he’ll be in a bad mood all day.”
“Nope.” Cassian offered no explanation, popping the ‘p’ just to rib Azriel a little more. “Don’t care, and neither will your kids.” He shifted, your eyes widening a little as Cassian snuggled down happily, fluffing the pillows behind his body and tucking his legs under the covers, tugging on them until he could get enough from you both to cover himself. 
“Cass, why are you in our bed?” You questioned, your friend’s head turning to you both, a wicked glint of mischief and excitement in his eyes.
“Well, you two were taking too long to invite me into it, so I invited myself.” He wiggled his brows teasingly, your laughter bouncing off of the walls. Azriel’s hand slipped back up from the cushions, cupping over your mouth to muffle your amusement as he tipped your head back onto his shoulder.
“Stop laughing, you’ll encourage him. He’s like a rash, he’ll keep coming back.” That only furthered your amusement, and despite his groan, a flare of matching entertainment from him tugged in your chest, and he placed a kiss on your temple, before slipping his hand away from your mouth. “So, why are you here, ruining our morning?”
“I happen to have some very important information, and I thought the spymaster of the court ought to know about it.”
“You’re here to gossip.” Azriel deadpanned, dropping his head down until his nose was brushing your hair, to hide the smile you knew he would be wearing. Despite all his constant complaining and the tone of his voice, Azriel loved gossip. 
“Precisely.” Cassian seemed to know it just as much as you did, because as he shuffled onto his side, head supported on his fist as his elbow dug into the pillows, Az’s grip on your thigh tightened subconsciously with excitement. “It’s gossip about our beloved High Lord.”
“Even juicer.” You settled a little further back into your lover’s chest, his lips brushing a series of soft kisses along your temple as you did, both of your attentions now fixed gleefully and expectantly on your unexpected guest.
“So, today Rhys had told me to ensure my evening was free, because he wanted me to stop by so we could crack open a few bottles of his best whiskey and get, in his words, ‘rip-roaringly drunk’. He didn’t say way, I figured he’d just tell me when I got there, so-”
“Why wasn’t I invited?”
“Shh.” You mumbled, already invested in the story just from the sheer enthusiasm Cassian was telling with, and you received a pinch to your thigh in response, a giggle falling from your lips as you slapped his hand away from over the top of the covers.
“As I was saying,” He huffed, and Azriel didn’t bother to interrupt again. “So, I was just minding my own business, on my way to get some breakfast and try to plan what to do with the day before that, when Rhys shows up in my bedroom.”
“His poor eyes, your morning hair looks like a bird’s nest.” You muttered.
“His poor nose, your morning breath is awful.” Your friend only shot a growl at both you and Azriel, even as you reached out to pat down some of the ridiculously messy locks of hair that were tangled atop his head.
“I doubt he even noticed, because he was freaking out. He was frantic, like I’ve never seen him. He all but threw a suitcase at me and told me to pack a week’s worth of stuff and to come get you guys, before giving this weird, patchy speech about why.” Cass shrugged, your brows shooting up your forehead as he just stopped talking.
“Well? What was the speech?” The words burst out of Azriel behind you, as though he’d read your mind, both of you pinning him with matching stares as you awaited more.
“Something about a wedding and a bargain and finally having his shot. All I know is that we have to clear out for a week to the townhouse.”
“Oh, my Gods..” The puzzle pieces all seemed to click together, your mind whirring into action as your sleep-addled brain started to catch up with the day. “Feyre, the girl Rhys made a bargain with. The Cursebreaker. He never cashed in on that bargain, I never really questioned it because it’s been so busy around here since he got back. But, she’s marrying Tamlin. Today.”
Cassian’s jaw dropped into a wide O-shape, thick brows shooting up, and the rumble of Azriel’s contemplative hum buzzed against your chest. Dipping down, he left a soft kiss in the crook of your neck, and another over the shell of your ear, just to mumble; “It’s hot when you do clever spy work and deduction, my love.”
“Stop flirting! I haven’t even gotten to the best part of the story yet!” 
“Well, hurry up, then! You’re gonna’ fucking kill us.”
“So, I packed my bag and all, and I was on my way down to see you both when I heard shouting. I investigated, and you’re right. I have never seen such a hideous wedding dress. It was all ruffles and puffed-up lace and she had these gloves on.” Cassian pulled a face, his nose scrunching up as he recalled whatever monstrosity the poor girl had likely been forced into for a big Spring Court tradition. “She was arguing with Rhys for finally coming to cash in the bargain, and then when he walked away from her, she took off her shoe and threw it at him.”
“Mother above..”
“Did it hit him?” There was something hilariously cheeky laced through Azriel’s question, the kind of joy only true brothers can get at the idea of one another being hit by flying footwear.
“Right on the back of the head.”
“Good shot. Go Feyre.” Cassian only laughed his agreement, and you huffed, shuffling onto your side to press a little further into the warmth of your mate’s body, the chill in the air from Cassian’s constant shuffling was making a breeze sweep in under the covers. “Twenty gold marks says they’re fucking by the end of the year.” 
The vibrations of his voice were a steady thrum under your cheek on his chest, and you swatted idly at his side, a scoff tumbling from your lips as your eyes closed happily once again. Cassian’s laughter only boomed, and he cupped a hand over his mouth to muffle it, not wanting to give his presence away to Feyre, wherever she was currently hiding out in the mountaintop palace you all called home.
“They won’t be fucking!” Azriel’s laughter was hidden in your hair as he dipped his head down, arms tightening around your body to squeeze you close as he shook beneath you in amusement. “It was literally her wedding day! To Tamlin! Gods, what a mess that’ll be when she goes back… What do you think will happen?”
You couldn't help it, slipping into a slight bit of gossip and hypothesising; Cassian had always been so good at dragging this devious side out of you both. It was shameful, really. It was even more shameful how much you secretly loved it. The two males fell silent around you, mulling it over slowly, and you could practically feel the energy change in the room, picturing Cassian’s shit-eating grin before he even spoke. 
“Forty gold marks says they’re fucking within three months.”
Azriel broke out in fits of very un-warrior-like hysterics with his best friend once again, bursts of joyous laughter filling your chest and plucking the bond with so much warmth that eventually giggles fell from your own lips too. “You two are awful.”
“Oh, c’mon, my love…” Azriel places a sweet kiss on the edge of your temple, smoothing one hand up and down your spine, twice, before resting it again just above the curve of your ass under the covers. “Think of the fantastic date we’ll be going on with Cassian’s money when he loses.”
“When you put it like that…” 
“Oh, my. Where will we be going on this fancy date?” The bubble popped once again, with Cassian holding the metaphorical needle, wielded proudly like the greatest sword.
“Somewhere you’ll never find us.” He scoffed at Azriel’s words, and you twisted enough to press a kiss over the thudding heart contained under golden skin and thick muscles where you rested. 
“Don’t be so mean to me! I’ve already been made temporarily homeless, and now you’re rejecting me? I can’t bear it.” He folded his wings in tight, only shuffling down even more into the pillows that you’d once called your side of the bed, now resting happily atop Azriel as you crowded into his side.
“So, you’re not leaving, then?” You fired back.
“Preferably now,” Azriel added with a mutter, fingers inching a few millimetres further down, just enough to hint to you that he had absolutely not forgotten your activities before Cassian had arrived.
“Of course not. I’m not going anywhere.” Twin groans from you and Azriel made Cassian laugh. Finally, you turned back to face him, eyes cracking open to observe. He was now laying on his back, settled in and looking cosier than ever amongst the blankets and pillows, truly and completely making himself at home. Uninvited. “Can’t go anywhere ‘til Rhys says we’re clear of bumping into the Cursebreaker in the halls. Then, we all get kicked out to stay at the Town House for a week. Doesn’t that sound great? Might as well get used to it, it’ll be fun!”
His tone change at ‘fun’ had Azriel’s breath holding in his chest, eyes narrowing at Cassian’s wiggling brows, and your stomach dropped at the thought. 
“We’re not gonna’ have any alone time for a whole week.” Azriel was exasperated, as though finally realising that it wasn’t going to happen, his hand sliding back up to sit at a safe space. All the way up, until he was threading it into your hair instead, fingertips kneading your scalp subconsciously.
“I have nothing to do except make sure that by this time next week, your balls are so blue they could disappear in the night sky, Az.”
Your mate’s body tightened fractionally underneath you at the threat, squirming a little as though he could already feel the frustration and cock-blocking his best friend would unleash upon him. Cassian, the complete opposite, was looking ridiculously proud of himself, and you hoped your smile at the pair’s antics wasn’t showing.
“Don’t worry, Az,” You reached up, dragging a finger down your lovers’ jaw, his fingers twitching on your body as you did. Layering on the seduction in your voice, just to make a point, “I’ll take real good care of your balls, honey.”
His head twisted, nipping at the tip of your finger playfully, and Cassian made a show of clearing his throat in a rather disgusting and pointed series of spluttering coughs.
“So, who wants to hear about the time my big toe got infected because of a splinter?”
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finelinefae · 2 months
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soft
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synopsis: girls with cute tummies and soft thighs and extra chub in different places can also date hot popstar boys okay? okay.
word count: 2.1 k
contains: plus size reader, non au harry, fluff, mentions of body image and insecurities, harry being obsessed with his girlfriend
A/N: the start of a new thing called 'soft girl sundays' which I'm starting !! i wrote this for wp a few months ago but it's one of my fave things I've written so I'm re-posting it here. it's cheesy and fun and harry's obsessed with his girl !! i know for a lot of us girlies sometimes it feels like we take up too much space and we're always made to feel smaller mentally, physically, in every way really but you have much of a right to be here as everyone else so take up alllll the space u need !! women are beautiful and majestic no matter their size 💘
. . .
My girls' in the audience tonight.
I look past the curtain across the stage and see her in the VIP section.
Even without the stage lights shining on her, she's glowing.
She's wearing a shirt with my initials stitched over her heart and every time she lifts her arms, I see her soft tummy and the dimples on her back when she spins. Her thick thighs are on show as she wears the smallest pink skirt known to man. Her hair falls past her shoulder and down her back and her cute cheeks turn pink as she smiles when she speaks to some of the team who stand with her. 
She's the living embodiment of the divine feminine and I can't ever seem to get over the fact that she's all mine. 
The music begins to play and I watch as her face lights up with excitement. She's seen this show over a few dozen times but she never fails to be just as excited as the first time she saw me walk on stage with a hickey on my neck that she'd put there moments before.
When it's my queue, I skip onto the stage and my ears nearly burst as the sound of people screaming over the music starts to fill the stadium. She's smiling, she's cheering, she's singing the words to every single song. She's so pretty and she's all I see.
When the show ends, I walk backstage to my dressing room. Normally I'd run into a car and get the Hell out of there before crowds of people start to fill up the streets to get home, but this time, Y/N was here and I knew how much anxiety she felt whenever we had to rush to be somewhere.
I walked in and accepted the compliments from my team after another successful show. Paris was a city I held close to me so it was always a fun time when we played.
I gulped down a glass of water and felt arms snake around my waist. I immediately grinned when I saw the lilac-painted nails that matched my very own. I feel her nuzzle her face into my back before I twist in her embrace and look into the eyes of the girl I love with everything in me.
"Hi baby," I whisper, stroking her cheek that still had glitter on it.
"Hi Harry," Y/N murmurs, her eyes tired but full of happiness.
"Y' okay?" I hold her, feeling her soft skin beneath my hand. She was so soft and cuddly.
"I'm okay." She smiles, lazily. "You did so good up there. I nearly cried,"
I laugh, "You always nearly cry."
"That's because I'm proud of you." She shrugs.
We sit on the couch and she straddles my lap, her skirt riding up and I nearly choke when I catch a glimpse of her lacy underwear. I put my hands on her thighs and squeeze them softly. "You excited for our trip tomorrow?" I asked, staring at her lips and suddenly feeling the temptation to kiss them. I did and she happily accepted.
We had a few days before the next show so we decided to head down to the South of France and spend a few days in Nice. We haven't been on a trip together in a while other than the tour locations so we made the most of the little time we had in between shows to spend as much time as we could together.
She nods, "I bought a new swimsuit just for the occasion."
I groan, my head falling back against the couch, "You kill me."
She giggles, "love you."
I immediately smile. "I love you too," I kiss her.
The morning after the show, we woke up early to make our flight down to Nice. Y/N whines the entire time because she's not a morning person and refuses to step one foot out of bed until I force her.
She sleeps on my chest the entire journey there, wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up. "My whole heart is inside y'." I murmur as her cheek presses against my chest and makes her lips all pouty, light snores falling from them. I lightly push some of her baby hairs back from her face and trace my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.
We arrive and head straight to our room at the hotel to drop our bags off before heading to the beach. Y/N immediately opens the doors to the balcony and gasps when she looks out at the view. "Harry, it's beautiful," Y/N says in awe.
I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her tummy, squeezing the softest part of her. I loved all the parts of her but her tummy was my absolute favourite. She always complained about it. How it stuck out when she wore tight clothing and even more so after eating. 'Harry I already have a tummy? Why punish me further by making it bigger after I eat? Seems unfair don't you think?'  I'd spend the whole journey home telling her how beautiful she looked and how I loved watching her enjoy the food she loves and then I'd hold her in bed and run circles on her little, bloated belly because I had made it my life's mission to show as much love to the little chub of a tummy she had.
I pull on my swim shorts and a white linen shirt, leaving the buttons undone. I pack my beach bag for our beach towels and my book as well as my film camera and sun lotion.
Y/N walks out of the bathroom. Her hair in loose curls from the heat and her face already sunkissed and pretty. My mouth falls open when I take in the small, blue bikini on her body, revealing her soft curves and every perfect inch of her.
"Do you like it?" She blushes, acting like she's not the hottest girl I've ever seen in my entire life.
It tied at her waist and around her neck, my immediate thought being how easy it would be to take it off her and spend the entire day in bed, making out or whatever. I honestly couldn't care less as long as she's there.
"Baby," I dropped the bag on the floor and made my way towards her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilting her head back so I could kiss her at the perfect angle.
She whines and the sound nearly has me dropping to my knees. "You're fucking unbelievable."
"You really think so?" She bites back a smile, "You don't think I need to hide my stretch marks?" My heart aches at how unsure she sounded, the fact she even had to ask made me want to pick her up and kiss each stretch mark on her body.
"No, my love," I shake my head, kissing the stretch marks at the top of her left breast and feeling her heart racing at the delicate touch. "You have absolutely nothing to hide from anybody. Y' beautiful and you're mine,"
She smiles and kisses me again.
We head down to the beach to the reserved sunbeds. Y/N lays out her towel and sits down to apply sun cream to her arms and legs. I help her do her back, massaging her shoulders and trying not to combust as she rolls her head to the side and moans at the feeling.
I literally have a crush on this woman.
And she's my fucking girlfriend.
What did I do to get this lucky in life?
"Let's go in the water baby," I held her hand and we walked to the water, stepping in together.
She wraps her arms and legs around me when we're deep enough in the water. I squeeze her ass and she gasps, swatting me gently. "What?" I look at her innocently.
"There's people watching." She hides her face in my neck and I turn us both around to catch sight of the paparazzi hiding behind the trees and snapping pictures of us.
I release a sigh and pull her face back to get a better look at her. If there was one thing that could make my girlfriend second guess herself, it was the paparazzi constantly posting her pictures online and allowing people to berate her for how she looked.
"Please don't let them ruin your day my love," I kiss her shoulder, still holding her in my arms. "I promise, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
"You promise?" She pouts.
"Feel this," I reach for her hand and guide her to the small bit of chub on my hip.
She gasps, "You have chub too!"
I rolled my eyes but smiled at the same time, her excitement was adorable. "Everyone's got something they're insecure about. No matter how hard I've tried I can't seem to get rid of it, maybe it's from all the cakes you've been making but how am I meant to say no to such a pretty face?"
She squeals in delight when I pinch her sides and giggles as I press kisses to her face. "Wanna go and sunbathe for a little, baby?" She nods and we both walk out of the water so she can sit in the sun for a bit.
I spend more time in the water and come out to find Y/N verging on the brink of sleep. I smirk as I crawl between her legs and lay between her thighs, sighing softly as I turn my head away from the sun and press a kiss to her inner thigh. She reaches down and runs her fingers through my wet hair, her nails scratching my scalp.
After midday, I order food to be sent up to our room. Y/N's passed out on the sunbed so I gently shake her awake, "Hi baby," Her pretty eyes flutter open, "Need you to drink something darling, you've been in the sun for a while." She slowly sits up and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. I unscrew the cap of the water bottle and pass it to her, watching as she almost drinks the whole thing.
"I got us room service to be delivered. Want to head back upstairs for a bit?" Her cheeks were red and her hair was all frizzy due to the humidity. She nodded and we packed our things up and made our way back to our hotel room.
Our food was already laid out on the balcony by the time we walked into the room. I had left the air conditioning on so the room was nice and cool since Y/N struggled to sleep when it was too hot and stuffy.
She was wearing my linen shirt over her bikini and I couldn't help but stare at her ass as I followed her to the table outside.
There was fruit, bread and pastries laid out on a spread at the table as well as a glass of red wine and some orange juice. Y/N sat on one of the chairs with one leg hitched up as she ate some of her baguette and cheese, her favourite snack to eat when we were in France.
"Are you having fun, my love?" I asked, taking a bite of fresh watermelon.
She nods quickly, "It's the best. Anytime with you is always the best,"
"Come sit here," I motion and move my chair out, patting my thigh. She doesn't hesitate and stands up to sit down on my lap.
I kissed the back of her neck and put one hand on her hip, my thumb traced the edge of the waistband of her bikini bottoms, slipping under the material to trail soft circles over her hip bones.
"I'm keeping you forever, I hope you know that," I murmur, appreciating this intimate moment between us which didn't happen as often as I liked them to but we made do.
"I hope so," She whispers.
I loved this girl for all she was. There is nothing in this world that could change just how much I adored her.
"Harry," She says my name, "This bikini is pretty easy to take off you know."
I choke, eyes widening and seeing the smirk on her face. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me and her ankles locking behind my back. "Is that a challenge or a request?" I kiss her lips, tasting the saltiness of the sea on them.
"Both," She says in between kisses.
This girl. 
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vanteguccir · 1 month
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Petals of death | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader | Slightly Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is a rare illness where the patient throws up and coughs flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, it's necessary that the one they're in love with fall in love with them too. Or to fall in love with somebody else.
Warning: Throwing up, blood, stomachaches, lung aches, one-sided love, crying, death talk. PURE ANGST, with a happy ending.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
Part 2
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Panting and covered in a thin layer of sweat, Y/N found herself emerging from the whirlwind of bad memories that enveloped her sleep. Her heart hammered in her chest, echoing in the silence of the night. With numb hands, she reached for the bedside lamp, bathing the room in soft yellow light.
Her heart seemed to be squeezed as the images still danced in her mind, an unwanted reminder of the emotional turmoil that consumed her.
In the center of his room, Y/N remembers seeing Chris sitting on his own bed with a relaxed expression. Next to him is another girl, perfect, with long hair and a radiant smile, who seems too comfortable in his presence. Their gaze met briefly with a complicity she knew very well, but at that moment, it cut through her like a sharp blade. His sparkling blue eyes carried a glow of intense love that she understood well because she saw it in her own eyes every time she thought of him.
Y/N closed her eyes tightly, running her trembling fingers through her hair, trying to ground herself when a sensation that was already quite common for her captured her throat. Coughing softly, she felt something strange shifting from her lungs. A heavy sigh escaped her nostrils at the sight of small rose petals cascading onto the fabric of the sheet covering her legs.
The initial feeling of sameness quickly turned into panic as she felt increasingly suffocated. The petals continued to sprout, climbing up her throat like a reverse slide and sliping from her lips between each cough, like a dark warning of an unrequited love that was eating away at her insides.
In a moment of frightening lucidity, she seemed to remind herself that this was just another attack of the dreaded Hanahaki disease. Flower petals, once symbols of beauty and romance, have become signs of a silent curse for Y/N weeks before.
The famous, but so rare illness that haunted the passionate hearts of those who dared to love without restrictions. When a soul found itself consumed by unrequited love, its body rebelled, expelling flowers and petals through painful coughs, a physical testimony to the deep emotional wounds that afflicted the heart.
It was quite hypocritical of the universe to create such a disease that affected those who love. Suffering from unrequited love was already too much, but apparently not enough.
Each cough was an explosion of petals that escaped her slightly bruised lips, dark red blood vibrating against the yellowish light, leaving a messy and disgusting trail. Y/N clenched her hands into fists on her sides, feeling her limbs give involuntary spasms, the flowers gathering on the bed around her more and more.
The strange, distressing sound of coughing echoed through the hallway of her house, cutting through the silence like a cry of distress. Nick, who was staying in the guest room - better known as his own room - wakes up suddenly.
His brain barely had time to register his sleepy mind or what time it was, worry consuming him as soon as his eyes opened, getting up from the bed abruptly. His feet tripped over the pieces of clothing thrown on the floor while his hands rested momentarily on the wall decorated with posters, trying to regain his balance.
The boy runs towards his best friend's room blindly, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He pushes the door open hard, finding the devastating scene. Y/N was above her own bed, curled in on herself, surrounded by a sea of ​​petals, her face contorted in agony.
Without hesitation, Nick approaches, calls for her name escaping his mouth, desperately seeking a way to ease her pain.
"Shh, I'm here, I'm here." Nick whispers softly, kneeling on the floor next to her body and reaching out to gently stroke her back with one of his hands, his other one hovering over the sheets, feeling imposing at the sight of the confusing and unlikely mess of blood. "It's going to be okay, I promise."
With difficulty, Y/N looks up to meet the blue ones looking back at her, her teary eyes reflecting a mixture of pain and gratitude.
"Nick, I don't know what to do anymore..." She murmurs, her voice weak and shaky. Nick smiles tenderly in response, his free hand traveling to her clenched one, grabbing it firmly.
"Let's take one step at a time, okay? First, let's help you calm down." He carefully helps her to her feet, guiding her to the bathroom while whispering words of comfort.
Upon entering the small room, the brunette quickly guides her to sit on the closed lid of the toilet, moving nimbly to turn on the bathtub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender essential oil that he knows is her favorite, with the intention of helping her body relax.
"Come here." Nick helps her stand again, helping her trembling arms undress her body, keeping it covered only by her underwear. "Let the water soothe you."
He holds her right hand firmly, guiding her until she sinks into the hot water. A sigh scapes Y/N's lips, feeling the heat enveloping her tense limbs as Nick sits on the floor beside the bathtub edge, ready to help her with the necessary.
"You will be okay." Nick whispers gently, watching the girl close her eyes and try to control her coughs.
While he offers her support with a calm aura never seen before in Nicolas Sturniolo, his heart is torn between care for her and a fierce anger toward his own brother that boils inside him, fueled by pain to see her in that state and injustice by what he witnessed every day since Y/N discovered the consequences of her unrequited love.
Nick holds himself back from screaming, from letting his fury consume all the space between them. But even in his silence, the girl could feel the tension emanating from his body, the intensity of his emotions throbbing in the air.
Nick vividly remembered the day he discovered the terrible truth about the Hanahaki disease that afflicted his best friend. He could almost see her anguished expression again, the silent tears that ran down her face as she confessed what a torment her unrequited passion had become. The memory of the revelation echoed in his mind like an incessant echo, mixing with Chris's trembling image.
Nick quickly shook his head, expelling the bad thoughts and feelings, focusing all his attention on the girl in front of him.
After Y/N had calmed down a bit, he helped her out of the tub, wrapping her in a soft towel before guiding her back to the bedroom, where he had her sit on one of her pink puffs, seeking for a comfortable set of sweatshirts, ironically, from Fresh Love in her closet.
"Are you feeling any better?" Nick asks her softly after making sure that her body was already covered in the warm outfit, his eyes observing her figure hugging the wet towel in her arms as if it were a teddy bear.
"A little." Her voice came out hoarse and worn out by the force she exerted when expelling the petals and flowers, feeling her throat scratchy with each breath.
"Come on, let's change the sheets so you can go back to sleep. You need the rest more than ever right now."
Together, they remade the bed, removing the scattered petals and replacing the sheets with fresh, clean ones, where the two lay down together, Y/N gently asking Nick not to leave her alone again.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The next day, Tuesday, after a restless night, Y/N and Nick headed to his house. It was recording day, and the oldest triplet couldn't find the courage to leave her behind. The atmosphere inside the car was tense but comforting. The girl drove cautiously, keeping close attention to the sensations in her body.
Upon climbing the entrance stairs, the two were greeted by the random sounds of a movie that escaped from the television sneakers and the silly fights between Chris and Matt, who were in the living room, thrown comfortably on the soft couch.
The wooden kitchen table was already filled with 21 different drinks that the boys would have to try and blindly guess the brand and flavor for that Wednesday video
YN tried to smile in greeting, but the weight on her chest seemed to suffocate her. A small "hi" escaped her lips, her hands quick to place her purse on the floor, next to the couch, before sitting on the other end of the upholstery, bringing her legs together beneath her body.
As she watched the triplets go over what would be done on the video, her gaze inevitably turned to Chris. Her heart sank as she saw him break into the most radiant smile at the mention of his girlfriend after Matt said something that reminded him of her. Every word that escaped his lips was like an arrow piercing her soul, reminding herself of the cruel reality that he belonged to someone else.
Y/N quickly looked away, trying to hide the anguish that was boiling inside her, but every passionate detail he shared about the other girl only intensified her own silent pain. She found herself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, desperately wishing he could see her while fighting the sadness of knowing that would never happen.
And then it happened. A sudden coughing fit took her by surprise, shaking her body violently. The girl bent her upper body, undoing her intertwined legs and resting the soles of her feet on the floor, panting as the three brothers turned to her with concern. She quickly brought her right hand to her mouth, covering it.
"Is everything okay, YN?" Chris asked, frowning as his eyes ran over her figure.
Y/N tried to smile, but another wave of coughing overcame her. It was as if invisible thorns were piercing her lungs, tearing her from the inside.
"I...I'm fine." The girl muttered, struggling to catch her breath. Her eyes quickly found her palm, blood smeared on her skin, along with small broken petals. She swallowed hard, struggling to control her overflowing emotions. "I think... I need some air." Finally, she confessed, her voice shaking.
Without hesitation, Matt suddenly got up from his seat, walking towards her with agile steps, stopping in front of her body and extending his right hand, offering her help.
"Come with me." The brunette suggested softly, grasping her hand and guiding her out of the room slowly, Chris's confused question about what was happening fading behind their backs.
The two went down to the garage, and despite the pain in her body, Y/N smiled as she stepped foot in the room that was so common, but that meant so much to them. Sunlight filtered between the small windows of the gate, naturally illuminating the space that became small with the van.
Together, they sat on the floor, their backs against the back of the car, the silence comforting as she tried to calm her rapid breathing. Matt remained by her side, offering her silent comfort, his eyes conveying deep empathy, concern, and a hint of something that, despite it being hypocritical of her, Y/N didn't seem to recognize.
"You know..." Matt began, his soft voice breaking through as he fixed his eyes on the gate in front of his outstretched feet. "You could still consider having surgery to remove the flowers."
Y/N nodded slowly, pondering his suggestion.
"I know." She murmured, her voice thick with resignation. "But... I don't know if I can. I don't want to lose our memories."
Matt frowned, his orbs traveling to her side profile, running over every little detail momentarily.
"I understand." He whispered, even if internally, he didn't completely. How could he understand that the love of his life preferred to suffer in an unimaginable way for someone who didn't look at her in the same way that he himself did? "But you know that if you keep going in that way, it will only get worse."
Y/N looked down, tears starting to pool in her eyes. She knew what Matt was talking about.
Hanahaki disease doesn't have many cures, but those that did exist were intense; Having surgery to remove the flowers and, consequently, forget about the love feeling and all the memories that surround it, or having the feeling be reciprocated, or survive with that until your body can't take it anymore.
She knew that if she didn't remove the flowers, she would die. Eventually.
"I know." She admitted, her voice shaking slightly. "But... I can't, Matt. The memories with him, with you two... they mean so much to me. I can't just give them up."
Matt nodded momentarily, his own anguish rising in his chest along with the urge to scream to the seven seas how much he loved her and that he was there to give her the love she deserved.
It was an indescribable pain, witnessing the girl he loved more than anything in the world be consumed by a passion that wasn't towards him, and Matt wished with all his being that he could ease her suffering, even if it meant sacrificing his own heart.
"He's an idiot. For not seeing you, I mean." The brunette muttered, lowering his gaze to the ground between his legs. "He's lucky to have your eyes on him and to receive a love like yours."
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Days turned into weeks, and Y/N's condition only seemed to worsen, leaving her increasingly weak and vulnerable. Vomiting entire flowers became a frequent occurrence, a constant reminder of her miserable situation.
Now, she was no longer left unsupervised, Matt and Nick taking turns looking after her, despite her complaints and constant fear of becoming a burden.
On a particularly difficult night, she was at their house, in Matt's room, where she would sleep since Nick needed to edit the last Cut The Camera podcast.
The sound of loud laughter came from the living room next to the small hall that led to where she was; Chris and his girlfriend were playing some video game on the television. The sound was like a knife to the heart, and Y/N couldn't help but curl up beneath the thick duvet, feeling a wave of nausea and despair approaching her.
Matt, who was sitting in his gaming chair while answering some emails on his computer, soon realized her imminent agony, rising from the chair abruptly as violent coughs echoed through the walls of his room.
"Hey, hey, I'm here." Matt crouched on the floor next to her body, murmuring softly. His blue eyes ran over her fragile figure while his hand quickly found home on her back, massaging the covered skin.
Carefully, Matt pulled the duvet down her body, straightening his posture and picking her up in his arms, quickly carrying her into his bathroom. The boy helped her sit on the edge of his bathtub comfortably, with her face above the open toilet.
The boy gathered the loose strands of her hair into a loose ponytail secured by his right hand. He grabbed the washcloth from the sink, dipping it into the running water of the tap before pressing the wet fabric over her forehead.
"That's it, let it all out, sweetheart." He whispered, his voice soft like a comforting breeze.
His blue eyes squeezed shut as the sound of a loud sob followed one of her coughs, his own eyes filling with tears. Matt caught his bottom lip between his teeth in a death grip, swallowing back his sobs.
As the coughs slowly subsided, Y/N felt relief seep into her being, small sniffling escaping her nose while thin tears ran down her reddened cheeks, a deep sense of tiredness taking over her body. She felt completely exhausted.
"Are you feeling like throwing up again?" Matt asked gently, stroking her shoulders with his free hand, receiving a small shake of head in return. "Okay, do you want to go back to bed?"
"I... I don't want to get the sheets dirty if... If another crisis comes." She murmured, her voice weak and tired.
Matt nodded understandingly, a gleam of determination in his eyes. He quickly reached out with his hand that was previously on her back, pressing the flush and closing the toilet lid.
"You're okay." The boy whispered, his voice soft like a comforting breeze. "Come here."
He settled on the cold bathroom floor, resting his back against the freezing walls. Matt gently pulled her to sit next to him, his arms wrapping around her shoulders in a protective hug.
Y/N leaned against him, laying her head on his right shoulder and looping her arms weakly around his torso, feeling the comforting warmth of his body against hers. Their hearts beat in unison, sharing the weight of their worries, fears, and loves.
"Sleep, honey. I'll be right here when you wake up." He murmured softly in her ear, his words echoing almost as a promise of comfort and safety.
For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to close her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the feeling of peace that Matt's arms gave her, which she never felt anywhere else. Her breathing began to get lighter, indicating that sleep was finally approaching.
With a heart heavy with love, Matt gently leaned his head over hers, his lips delicately brushing her hair as he whispered words of love in the silence of the bathroom, believing that the girl was sleeping.
"If you only knew how much I could love you the way you deserve..." He murmured in a soft, loving tone. "I love you more than anything in this world, and I promise to take care of you forever, even when you are not aware of it."
The girl was slightly startled when she heard the words, her heart beating wildly in her chest and surprise flooding her mind. She expected everything but that. However, she remained quiet, savoring the comforting warmth of his arms and words, which unconsciously touched her heart in a different way. A good way.
Maybe the universe had better things for them.
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My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
I'm so sorry if this is horrible, I tried my best, but I feel like I didn't reach my expectations ;( I'll try to do better on part 2!
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