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bat-boys · 18 days

Text

domestic bliss

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.5k words

warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!

summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate

a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻

Part 2

A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.

A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling.

Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence.

"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head.

"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him.

"Well, hurry up."

"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair.

You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.

Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair.

"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly.

"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you.

He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there.

"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss.

"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you.

Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared.

Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs.

You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch.

"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin.

"With pleasure, sweetheart."

…

The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element.

You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped.

Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night.

He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.

As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new.

A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you.

You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back.

"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips.

"Shadowsinger." You purred.

"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation.

"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room.

Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone.

After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove.

With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones.

"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting.

"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs.

"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly.

"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.

"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you.

"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh.

Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.

"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.

"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.

"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze.

"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye.

"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress.

"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you.

"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over.

"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"

"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down.

"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit.

"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway.

…

Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen.

He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts.

A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his.

A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.

"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.

"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.

"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"

He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually.

"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.

"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking.

"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.

It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore.

Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are.

Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him.

The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"

He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down."

He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him.

"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him.

His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go.

"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"

"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.

"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion.

"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."

He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa.

"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.

His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought.

"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart.

"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."

Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there.

He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite.

"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven.

He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile.

"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.

"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile.

"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.

Read Part 2 here!

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wrongplacerighttime · 1 month

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fratboy!harry x you

hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)

the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.

wc: 5.8k

tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)

cherry sucker

Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag.

While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp.

“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print.

“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.

“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.”

“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?”

“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.”

“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.”

“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head.

“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head.

“Know of him, don’t know him though.”

“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.

“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.”

“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors.

Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed.

“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man.

Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester.

Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.

“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod.

“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.

“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace.

“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.

The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.

It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed.

“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her.

“Think I’ll pass.”

“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe.

“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes.

“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.

The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t.

“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.

“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand.

Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground.

He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment. He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity.

So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment.

“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?”

A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you.

Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.

“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look.

“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then.

“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.

“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile.

“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.

“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat.

“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be.

“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.”

“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario.

“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.

“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon.

“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.”

“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat.

“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face.

“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.

“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling.

“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity.

“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips.

It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside.

By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock.

He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.

“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you. He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure.

“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips.

“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap.

“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say.

“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you.

“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs.

“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin.

“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”

“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down.

“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.

“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?”

“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows.

“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.

“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside.

“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you.

“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh.

“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you.

“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.”

So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper.

“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder.

“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up.

Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.

“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you.

“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade.

“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.

“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.

You slept in his bed that night.

The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus.

Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe.

“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.

“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.”

“I won’t be.”

He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.

1K notes · View notes

perlelune · 3 months

Text

Cruel Summer | Felix Catton

Your mother's money issues make it hard for you to enjoy your summer at Saltburn. Thankfully your cousin is there to comfort you. But what happens when you realize his interest in you isn't just familial concern?

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Start! Reader, Incest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Corruption, Innocent Reader, Drugs, Smoking, Filming

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your eyes round as they absorb the massive castle and the vast, lush gardens surrounding it. As you drag your suitcase behind you, you can’t quell the urge to admire everything. Even the towering, perfectly symmetrical trees lining the path to the iron gates. It’s been years since you visited Saltburn, but you don’t remember it being so big or intimidating.

Still, you bask in the chirping of birds and the brightness of the sky above you. You’re compelled to admit it. The English countryside is lovely, a haven away from the pollution and noise of the city. A sharp contrast to the familiar chaos you’re used to back home. The uproar of traffic, from the honking to the shouting. The endless stream of people strutting down the streets. The gigantic ads and the skyscrapers that graze the stars.

A city that never rests or stops for anyone.

While this is home, it all can be so overwhelming. There never is time to just…breathe and be. Here, as you look at your surroundings, you figure it’s all there is to do. Breathe and be.

You push the small iron door on the side, astonished to find it ajar. Did they leave it open for you? You doubt it however. From what Mom told you, consideration for others isn’t one of your aunt and uncle’s strong suits. They’re too wrapped up in their “posh little world”. One your mom isn’t a part of anymore. And neither are you, as you’ve been raised overseas.

As for your brother…well he’s another matter. Shipped from school to school thanks to Uncle James’ “bottomless well of generosity”, he is a free spirit. Seas apart from you in every possible way.

Ever since you were young, the pressure to succeed has gripped you tight and never released you. When others partied and experimented, you were nose deep in your books, stressing over finishing every assignment on time and acing every test. It paid off. You were accepted into your school of choice this summer, with a scholarship no less.

Slacking off isn’t an option for you.

While your brother has a sort of safety net, you’re not so close with that side of your family. You’re their estranged American niece, one they haven’t seen in over a decade.

In fact, you’ve no idea how you’ll be received.

The long walk to the castle is harrowing but gives you time to comb through your memories. You were so little the last time you visited. Still, foggy remembrance floods your thoughts. You played with your cousins by the pond. Made up stories and ran around the fields. You even faintly recall skinning your knees when one of them dared you to try and climb all the way to the top of the stone stairs beneath the stained glass window. You slipped for a long time and wept on the floor, you think. Auntie Elspeth scolded her children and you for playing dangerous games.

Their cherubic faces flicker in your mind.

There were two of them.

A little boy with dark hair and a gummy smile. A blonde girl who giggled all the time. And of course, your brother.

When you’ve reached the castle’s front door, you suck in a wide breath. Before you can even knock on the tall, black doors, they swing open in front of you.

A surprised exhale spills from your throat.

Swallowing, you fall back.

Hands behind his back, a stern man in a suit runs his gaze over you. He is so still, for a minute, you wonder if he’s real.

But then he speaks. “Are you lost, miss?” he asks.

You shift, a surge of inadequacy filling you. Still, you clear your throat and give a tremulous answer.

“Hi. I…I’m here to visit my family.”

The man doesn’t budge, still pinning you with his unflinching stare. Sweat breaks out on your back. Are you at the right place?

“The Cattons,” you offer, an awkward smile stretching your lips. “My brother should already be here.” You start rummaging through your backpack to pull out a map. “This is Saltburn, right? Auntie Elspeth sent me the itinerary but perhaps I-”

He cuts you off, seeming almost annoyed with you.

“Right, you’re…earlier than we expected, Ms. Start.”

“I could come back later-”

“The gates aren’t open. We’d have sent someone to pick you up.”

You glance back, dumbfounded. The gates were definitely open, weren’t they? Or perhaps that little door wasn’t supposed to be crossed. Your cheeks flame. The elaborate rules your wealthy relatives abide by are already eluding you.

Your shoulders heave and fall.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that long a walk.”

The man stiffly allows you in. You note the two black men standing by the door. They haven’t uttered a single word, blending into the background. Always seen but never heard. You believe your brother mentioned something like that in his sporadic texts and letters. Your gaze tears from them. The inside of Saltburn is even more majestic, a thing you didn’t think possible. Standing in a museum wouldn’t be much different, you suppose, between the antiques sitting on shelves, paintings hanging on the walls and crystal chandeliers hovering above you.

So, this is what generational wealth looks like.

When you were little, you didn’t notice this. You were too busy playing. Now, it’s all you can see.

“Just leave your bag there. Someone will get it for you,” the man says.

“Someone, as in…”

“Someone,” he repeats, staunchly refusing to elaborate.

The grip on the handle of your suitcase tightens.

“I really don’t need it. I can carry it myself.”

The man considers you, his face twitching as if you just spat in it. Your insides stir in confusion. All you’ve said is that you don’t mind carrying your own luggage.

The loud utterance of your name has your head snapping sideways.

Your mouth falls open when a towering, young man in a yellow shirt around your age strides in your direction.

He halts in front of the stern man, chiding him with a playful lilt in his tone.

“Really Duncan? You’re scaring the poor girl. Duncan, stop being so terrifying. She’s family.”

“Well, I shall try.”

You note the subtle warmth in the man’s tone as he addresses the newcomer.

He turns to you, beaming. Your stomach flutters. “Cousin, try not to be too terrified of Duncan.”

You’re taken aback when he grabs the hand gripping the suitcase. His large hand completely engulfs yours.��

“I’ll show her to her room. Don’t worry,” he chimes. He pulls you away and you’re forced to keep up with his long, enthusiastic strides. He tosses you a glance, laughing when you sort of hop behind him. “Sorry about that. Duncan’s a bit odd, but he’s alright, you’ll see.”

“And you are…?”

Disappointment creeps on his face at your question. He spreads a hand over his chest.

“Felix, your cousin. Golly, you don’t remember me? Really? That kind of hurts.”

Your eyes grow. The picture in your mind was that of a chubby-cheeked, clumsy little boy. Your cousin definitely isn’t that anymore.

“Oh my god, yes! Felix. You don’t have a lisp anymore and…You’re like a giant now.”

A smug expression lights his features.

“Puberty.”

You laugh in response. “Yeah, I guess we all grew up.”

A strange glint fleets across his gaze as he gives you a quick once over.

“Clearly,” he says, his smile expanding.

He shows you around the estate. You can’t suppress your awe when he mentions Henry VIII, surprised Saltburn’s history stretches that far back. The library also radiates ancient and priceless, countless rare leather-bound books sitting on the shelves. A smile creeps on your face when Felix greets the ghost of your grandmother.

He takes you through a vertiginous amount of hallways until taking you to what will be your room. It’s apparently right next to Venetia’s. You glance around, expecting another long lost cousin to pop up perhaps. But it’s just you and Felix in the vast bedroom.

He leans against the doorjamb while you soak in the room and the massive bed, large enough to welcome three or four people. It’s nothing like your tiny bed at home or the one in your college dorm. This is something you never had, and that is just Felix and Venetia’s normal. It makes you speechless.

You drop your backpack on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The mattress bounces as you plop down on it. You let your fingers skim over the blissfully soft sheets.

Your contemplation is abbreviated by the ringing of your phone. You flip it open. The screen lights up, signaling a new message received. You type on the glowing arrows to find out it’s from Mom.

Remember to ask your aunt and uncle for what we talked about.

I really need you, sweetie.

You unleash a heavy breath. Your mom is the one who pressured you to go on this trip. Ever since her brother’s regular payments have dried up, your mother’s been relentless. She keeps claiming she wants her share of the trust and your uncle argues that she used all of it. First, she recruited Farleigh to speak on her behalf. Your brother’s attempts have met little success however. So your mother enlisted you.

You don’t know what more you can do that your brother couldn’t, but you can never say no to anything your mother asks.

“Is something wrong?” Felix inquires, making his way to your bed to sit near you. The scent of his pricey cologne tingles your nose.

“It's nothing,” you lie. “Just Mom asking if my arrival’s been smooth.”

Your cousin seems like the living embodiment of sunshine, just like you remember. If possible, you want to keep him out of the money issues between your mom and Uncle James.

Felix tilts his head as he studies you.

“It’s kinda funny.”

“What?”

“The way you say ‘mum’”

A laugh peals from your lips.

“I guess I’m gonna have to get used to my accent being made fun of.”

Felix shrugs. “My mum will think it’s exotic.”

You cringe inside. You never liked that word, how it makes you feel like an animal in a zoo.

Switching topics, you ask, “Is my brother around? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Ah, Farleigh’s probably skulking about somewhere.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

Felix collects the book poking through the zipper of your backpack. He flips through the stained pages of your copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood prince. You accidentally spilled coffee on it during a late night study session.

“You could talk to him about this,” he offers, waving the book. “We’ve kind of been passing around Venetia’s copy. Although I tend to skip to the most interesting parts, but don’t tell everyone else.”

You smile.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you reply solemnly.

He watches you for a long time, long enough for your gaze to find the floor as your face heats.

“It’s really good having you here with us, cousin. I mean it.”

You fidget in your spot. “Thanks.”

Felix flashes you a mischievous grin.

“But I’ll need to make sure you remember me this time.”

The rest of the day is spent reconnecting with your other relatives. Everyone gathers in the library and you get to meet Venetia, realizing she too has changed a lot since you were kids.

Oliver, Felix’s friend from Oxford is also there. From your cousin’s broad explanations, it appears he’s grieving the loss of one of his parents, so he invited him to make sure he isn’t alone. It’s unbelievably kind. Besides, you’re guessing from Oliver’s lost puppy dog stares and awkward manners, that he’s as out of place as you are here. Instant sympathy blooms inside you when you’re introduced to him.

A woman named Pamela is also in attendance. She is Aunt Elpseth’s close friend, though it’d be hard to tell, the way she orders her around like a servant and exposes the long list of tragedies her love life has been to the entire room.

A saying about friends and enemies flutters through your mind as you witness their interactions. It’s such a bizarre spectacle, watching this red-haired woman, dead behind the eyes, bend over backwards for your aunt. You don’t remember Aunt Elspeth being this cold-blooded.

And naturally, there is your brother. Farleigh. Aloof in the back, apart from the Cattons, your eyes collide from across the room. He smiles at you. You smile back. Warmth flows through you.

It’ll be a while before you’re comfortable around each other again. It pains you to say, but you don’t know your own brother all that well anymore.

Dinner’s a strangely formal affair. Everyone’s dressed to the nines, giving the family gathering more of a cocktail party vibe than that of a family dinner. Venetia lends you a dress so you aren’t the odd one out. You thank her profusely. All you packed when you left America are jeans and a few pairs of shorts. It never occurred to you that you’d need any kind of formal wear since you figured you would be around family.

But you failed to take into account said family is also a part of British high society.

Awkwardness fills you as you hesitate over the utensils, the different kinds of knives and forks making you dizzy. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself on the first day. Seeming to grasp your predicament, Venetia nudges your elbow when you grip the right fork and knife.

You mutter a quiet ‘thanks’ and she winks at you.

Several courses are brought on silver platters, one after the other. The entire time, you focus on your plate, swallowing every bland, flavorless bite.

Stiff conversation is exchanged at the table, most of it centering on Aunt Elspeth’s dour-looking friend. Once more, compassion flutters through you.

It’s blatant to everyone at the table that Pamela isn’t wanted at Saltburn anymore.

It’s a relief when dinner concludes and you can return to your bedroom.

You sit by the large window in your room to admire the night sky. Between the skyscrapers and artificial lights, it’s hard finding a spot to look at the stars in New York. Here however, you can make out constellations and various other glittering shapes.

Venetia joins you on the windowsill. She takes a long drag of her cigarette and blows smoke on the window. She shoots you a cheeky smile.

“So, do you regret coming already?” she teases.

You fiddle with your hands.

“It’s fine. Everyone’s nice. It’s…kind of unreal being here.”

“Just remember this is your home too.”

You mull it over. It is becoming clear to you how much you don’t fit in with the Cattons, despite sharing blood with them. You wonder if it’s how your brother has felt all these years. Like an outsider amidst his own kin. Although, you have to admit he looked quite comfortable at dinner. Far more than you, definitely.

“I’ll…try to remember that.” You hesitate, gnawing on your lip before speaking again. “Is Pamela gonna be okay, you think?”

Venetia shrugs.

“I think she’ll be alright.”

Your lips purse. Who knows how that haunted woman will fare once she’s on her own in the world again? You’re not too hopeful. But it seems like Aunt Elspeth is done with her, so it cannot be helped you suppose.

“If you say so.” You tilt your head at your cousin, dropping casually. “Do you think Uncle James is still up?”

“At this hour, Daddy will be in his study.”

You nod and get to your feet. Wandering the halls of Saltburn at night is a peculiar experience. The shadows clinging to the walls seem to follow your every step. Dusty slices of moonlight spill from the windows, bringing the stern portraits of your distant relatives to life, the aged hues of the paintings shifting in the dim light. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you're being watched. The back of your neck tingles as the sound of your fearful steps echoes in the vast halls. A breeze of cool air seeps through your clothes. You tug on the cardigan Venetia let you borrow from her closet, hurrying your pace.

For a long time, you spin in circles, growing desperate to find your uncle’s study. Your spirits sour. You followed Venetia’s instructions to the letter yet you got lost. A left, a right, straight along the green room, then…another right?

You frown. Now you can’t remember. Why does every hallway look the same here?

Astray in your own mind, you carelessly bump into a hard object.

You lift your gaze. Your jaw drops.

“Felix,” you exclaim, placing a hand over your heaving chest. “You scared me.”

Mirth glints in his brown orbs.

“Lost, cousin?”

Avoiding his eyes, you scratch your am.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” you mumble.

Felix chuckles and seizes your arm.

“It’s not. It’s easy to get lost here.” You gasp as he pulls you alongside him. “Just tell me where you need to go and I’ll show you the way.”

Too dumbstruck by his abrupt appearance, you let Felix drag you through the somber hallways. The sharp twists and turns he takes make your head spin. There is no way you’d have found the study on your own.

He halts in front of two mahogany doors. Your feet bounce as your hand lingers on the brass handles.

Felix knocks on the door and your heart leaps.

“I’ll wait for you here, so you don’t get lost again,” he says.

“You don’t have to,” you squeak.

He leans over you and smiles.

“I insist, cousin. I have to prove to you not all of us are completely horrible…despite what you may have seen.”

Your face warms.

“T-Thank you.”

James’ voice rises from inside the room, giving you permission to enter. You nod at Felix and take shaky steps inside the study. The crackle of logs burning away reaches you. The swaying flames mingle with the shadows, casting a faint orange glow on the room.

“Uncle James, may I speak to you?” you bashfully inquire.

He lowers his round glasses and puts down the notebook in his hands.

“Of course. Anytime, love. Have a seat.”

“Is something troubling you, child?”

You gulp the lump stuck in your throat, staring at your lap for a while before you meet your uncle’s gaze again. You shift in your seat.

You don’t know how to ask or, more precisely, the appropriate way to ask. A wide lungful enters your lungs. Why delay the inevitable?

You elect to dive right into your reason to be here.

“My mother. Well, she was wondering…” Your nerves buzz as your uncle’s sharp eyes cut into you. You clear your throat before continuing. “We were wondering if there were issues on your side because she hasn’t…” Sweat blooms inside your palms as your voice dwindles to a whisper. “Well, you haven’t sent anything like you usually do and it’s been two months now.”

A heavy coat of silence falls over the study. After a while, your uncle unleashes a deep sigh.

“And she sent you to vouch for her.”

“I’m sorry.” Your shoulders slump. “Mom, she…She isn’t really good with money.” This is a massive understatement, and from the way Uncle James’ eyes bear into yours, it’s clear that he’s also aware of that fact. As much as you love your mom, she’s never been the most responsible with money, often squandering it on flashy things and pretty clothes. More than once growing up, she fell short on a bill and you couldn’t even shower before going to school. “If you could help this one time, then I’ll figure something out for her. I promise.”

“And how do you plan on doing that, young lady?” your uncle challenges.

“I…I’ll find a way. We always find a way.”

“You’re a very good daughter, which I can appreciate…” Your pulse races as you wait with bated breath. “But I’ve given your mother more than enough for her to get on her feet. Still, she always asks for more.”

Your heart plummets. The finality laced in his tone didn’t elude you. Why did you even think you could sway your uncle’s opinion in any way when your own brother, who has been around the Cattons for years, couldn’t accomplish that feat?

“She has issues…but I promise, uncle, she’ll get herself together this time,” you offer.

“I will give it some thought.”

He flashes you a sympathetic smile. You recognize its meaning right away. It’s strikingly similar to the one Aunt Elspeth gave her “friend” at the dinner table.

Understanding you are being dismissed, you get up from the chair and bid your uncle good night.

“Thank you for listening,” you say glumly before leaving.

As Felix escorts you back to your bedroom, you can’t help but notice that Uncle James never once referred to your mother as his sister.

You frankly doubt he will give what you said any semblance of thought. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if that entire conversation vanished from his head the second you stepped out of his study.

The rest of the week goes smoothly. Lazy summer days with your cousins and brother fly by in a hazy blur. Hanging by the pond beneath the sizzling sun. Displaying your terrible tennis playing skills to the entire group. Scary movie nights with the whole family during which Venetia and Felix laugh at you because you watch most of the film through your fingers and hide your face in a pillow whenever the monster appears.

It’s nice. You start thinking that reuniting with your extended family for the summer wasn’t such a rotten idea.

You nearly forget your mother. Nearly.

Though with the daily messages you receive detailing the squalor she’s living in, it’s impossible to forget. Guilt grows within you each day.

“She’s been texting you too?” Farleigh asks as he sits at the edge of the tennis court next to you. He’s still in his tux while you’re still wearing one of Venetia’s sparkly dresses, as all of you decided to sneak out of Aunt Elspeth’s uptight dinner party to catch the sunset and play a game of tennis. One thing you’ve come to learn about your cousins. They do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want. Part of you envies that. The carefree knowledge that whatever mess you make, someone will clean up behind you…discreetly and in silence at that.

You flip your phone shut and sigh.

“Nonstop.” You sag in the chair. “I’ve done all I can.”

“Yeah…Me too.”

“I feel awful.”

You’re taken aback when your brother says, “Don’t. This isn’t your fault.”

You tentatively reach over his armchair to squeeze his hand.

“It’s not yours either,” you assure softly. Your brother shocks you when his fingers wrap around yours. You don’t think you held hands like this since you were toddlers. You were always the clingy one, following after your big brother like a lost puppy.

You and your brother remain like this for a while, eyes trailing the downward race of the sun over the horizon.

When night falls, you’re surprised to find a tall, familiar form slipping through the wall of your bedroom.

“Felix!” He puts a finger over his lips as a sign to lower your voice. It instantly dips to a whisper. “How did you get here?”

Amusement paints Felix’s features at your flabbergasted expression. He clicks the door shut.

You blink. Once closed, the secret entrance blends seamlessly into the wall. There is no way you could have known this was here.

“Secret passageway. Old castles like Saltburn have plenty of them,” he explains, crawling over your bed.

“Oh.”

As your eyes drag over his frame and you note that Felix’s just in his shorts, fire creeps inside your cheeks. Of course, you’ve seen your cousin in trunks but usually, it’s around the entire group. For some reason, a sliver of discomfort pools within you. You look away and clear your throat.

“Is it…okay for you to be here?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that…nothing.”

A deep chuckle peals from his chest. The mattress bounces as Felix lets himself fall onto your sheets. He makes himself comfortable on the pillow near you, putting his hands behind his head as a lazy smile spreads on his lips.

“Don’t be silly. We’re family. It’s like when we were little and we’d all sleep in the same bed.”

You can’t help but smile at that. He’s right; you’re overreacting.

“Right. That was so fun.”

He lies on his side, elbow bent as he buries one hand in his tousled brown curls.

“You used to have nightmares so you’d always sneak into my bed or Farleigh’s.”

“Now that you’re saying it, I think I remember that.”

“You’re still as cute as I remember.” Felix’s brown eyes twinkle as he drinks you in. “No…Even cuter.”

“Thanks.”

He approaches you and starts playing with the hem of your cotton shorts, twiddling the fabric between his forefinger and thumb.

Brown eyes dive right into yours.

“I saw you with Farleigh today. You looked sad.”

You shake your head.

“It’s nothing…just got some stuff on my mind.”

Felix’s smile dies.

“You also looked sad when you left Dad’s office the other day.”

You bristle. “It’s nothing important, really.”

“Your mom?” he inquires. When you don’t reply, Felix’s knuckles sweep over your outer thigh, his deep timbre softening, “You can trust me, cousin.”

You unleash a sharp, audible breath, budding tears tickling your eyelids.

“It’s just a lot. She’s asking things from me that I don’t know if I can do much about.”

Felix collects one of your stray tears with his thumb. He then snatches your hands from your lap and clutches them in his. They completely swallow yours.

“She shouldn’t ask anything of you. It’s not fair. You’re her daughter. She should protect you. Not the other way around.”

You sniffle. “I don’t know. It’s just been me and my mom for so long. Especially after Farleigh decided to stay in England most of the time. So I feel like…I need to take care of her, you know? Because she always took care of me.”

He cups your cheek, wiping more of your tears.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good, cousin.”

Felix then sits up and conjures a lighter and a blunt from the back pocket of his shorts.

You gawk at him as he lights it in front of you, taking a deep drag before blowing smoke in your face.

Your stomach tingles when he offers it to you.

“I don’t know if I should…”

Felix’s timbre lowers seductively as he grabs your hand and slips the roll between your fingers. Even holding it doesn’t feel right.

“Come on, you’ll feel better. It’ll free your mind. No thoughts. No troubles. Just…light and happy.”

“That sounds amazing,” you mumble.

“Then try a puff.”

You bring the blunt to your mouth and immediately cough.

“You gotta go slow,” he chuckles. Once you’ve retrieved your breath, he nudges it against your mouth again. “Here, another.”

The room begins to swirl around you. You lie back, a heady, cotton-like sensation spreading from your head to your toes.

“Damn…” you whisper as your limbs slacken, the tension in your body slowly melting away.

Felix lies back next to you, his grin growing.

“See? That’s why you should always listen to me, cousin.”

It becomes a habit, Felix sneaking into your room and the two of you smoking in your bed every night. Him slipping through the secret door doesn’t even faze you anymore, and your reservations about getting high evaporate a little more with every puff you inhale. The serene sensation and warm tingles you get afterwards are entirely too pleasant.

It’s something you’ve never experienced. Letting go. For a few precious minutes, the burdens on your shoulders can vanish.

You don’t tell Venetia, or even Farleigh. You still remember him going full big brother mode that one day when you tried to join the rest of them when they hung out naked in the field. The Cattons siblings laughed as you were escorted away, burning from head to toe at the humiliation.

You don’t want a repeat of that. Always being the good girl is exhausting. Not that your brother would understand. He gets to live life on his own terms. Get kicked out from as many schools as he likes. Charm his way through the world. You don’t. For once, you want to revel in doing something…a little forbidden. Something the nerdy, party-avert, studious girl you forced yourself to be all these years would never do.

So the nightly meetups become you and Felix’s secret.

It’s all casual, harmless fun. Until, one night, everything changes. As your head lolls back on the pillows, your gaze fixated on the ceiling, your cousin’s fingers dance over your half-exposed belly.

“Feeling better?” he mutters, his voice low and secretive.

“Yeah.”

“I know a way you can feel even better.”

You don’t think much of it. Not even when he slithers across the sheets, finding his way between your legs. He tugs your shorts down, slowly, until you’re down to your panties in front of him. The rush of cool air on your skin makes you tremble.

“Felix, what are you doing?” you chuckle, high enough not to fully register what’s going on.

A playful smile ghosts over your cousin’s lips. He blows on your clothed center and the sensation draws a giggle from you, even as a faint layer of panic is trying to pierce through the haze.

“You seemed so stressed today. It’ll help you relax…” he promises, trailing sluggish kisses up your inner thigh. As his lips travel upward, your stomach clenches. He hooks two fingers inside your panties to push them aside.

Your cousin’s gaze darkens, his smile broadening, as he basks in the sight of your bare, shuddering folds. He licks his lips before kissing the center of you.

Your limbs tense as Felix starts unraveling you with his tongue. He licks a stripe over your folds, his tongue tarrying over your tender bud. The breath catches in your throat. He traces slow circles over your button, tearing a soft gasp from you everytime he suckles the sensitive spot between his lips.

Felix hums while his head bobs between your thighs.

A tingly, warm feeling starts blooming in your core, scattering to your entire body. Hot and irresistible. A wave of heat that slowly takes over your entire frame.

You clutch the sheets.

Your eyes rise to the heavens as heat pulses through your core.

“No, Felix, this is… this is wrong,” you wheeze out between aching breaths.

His devious laughter ripples through your core.

“I’m just trying to make you feel good. How can that be wrong, cousin?” he says innocently, before flicking his tongue over your folds. He spreads you even more, dipping in and out of you as quiet shouts rip from your throat. Your back curves over the sheets. Your lids flutter as you peer at the ceiling unseeingly.

His sinful baritone nudges you to your undoing.

“Just let go. It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You quake, the tense heat growing too much to bear. Your insides coil. Sparks erupt from your center, traveling outward. Your body goes limp as you collapse over the sheets, dazed and breathless. Tears of arousal trickle from your core and your cousin greedily savors every wayward drop. Shame scalds your insides as you feel him lap up your nectar, your wide gaze glued to the ceiling.

The next morning, panic rushes through you as your eyes snap open.

“Hey, hey, you don’t need to freak out,” Felix says lightly, pulling you against him from behind. His hand settles over your rapidly moving chest.

“Last night…” you say, choking on a sob as you recall bits and pieces. You were so damn high. Still, you’re pretty sure what you think happened…happened. Even in your own head, you can’t put it into words. You rub your thighs. Stickiness lingers there from Felix’s ravenous tongue. Shame burns in your gut.

As you try to climb off the bed, Felix yanks you back. He slams you down on your back. Your heart jumps as he looms over you, his broad body easily caging yours.

He frames your chin, drawing your attention to him.

“We just had some fun, you and I,” he says, thumb tracing your quivering lip. “That’s all. No one ever has to know.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you keep pulling on your tiny camisole, pathetically attempting to cover your nakedness. Felix chuckles.

“Gosh, you really need to stop being so uptight, pretty cousin.”

He drops a quick peck on your cheek before dragging his lips over your earshell.

“It’s okay. We’ll work on loosening you up.”

For a few days, Felix doesn’t visit your room again. You’re thankful for that. You can barely meet your cousin’s gaze now, the fear of someone finding out what happened eating you alive. You can’t imagine coming back after so many years only to cause havoc and drama.

Your mom would be so disappointed. Your brother would be livid.

So you do as Felix says. You keep your lips firmly sealed. It’s not like it’ll go further than that anyway. The two of you were high, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

None of this would have happened otherwise.

Unfortunately, your meticulously crafted wall of denial explodes when your cousin shows up again one night.

You tremble as your eyes rest on him. Felix smiles at you, pushing the secret door closed. You note the camera dangling from his neck. The entire day was spent snapping pictures to remember the summer. You took so many silly ones with Venetia and your brother. For a while, you let yourself forget. Felix took most of the pictures today, appearing in very few himself. You just didn’t expect him to still be wearing it this late.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply shyly.

“How are you feeling today?”

Your lips clamp shut. Today was awful. Apparently your mom might be getting evicted soon. She hasn’t stopped texting you about it the entire day, and even some of the night because of the time difference. You feel so dauntingly powerless…and awful. You’re staying in a literal castle while your mom might be homeless soon.

“I’m good.”

He takes lithe steps towards you, his handsome face twisting in sympathy as he plops down on your bed. He removes the camera from around his neck and tosses it over your pillows.

“No you’re not. You’re still worried about your mom. You were checking your phone all day today.”

You bring your knees close to your chest.

“It’s fine, Felix.”

Felix sighs, concern swimming in his brown gaze.

“No, it’s not fine.” His fingers roam over your ankle as he lies on his side. “You know…” Felix pauses, eyes holding yours. “I could talk to my dad if you want. He never refuses me anything.” He flashes a sunny grin. “After all, I’m his precious boy. His firstborn son.”

You gape at him.

“You really would do that for my mom?”

Felix sits up and closes the distance between the two of you. He bends over you, placing his large hands over your feet. You follow the stars tattoos etched atop his hand; his sister has the same ones if you recall.

His knees graze your ankles as he says, “Not for your mom. For you, cousin. So that frown on your face can finally…” He flicks your brow with his thumb and laughs. “...disappear. Like magic.”

You consider Felix, relief and awe storming through you.

Without giving it much thought, you toss your arms around his neck.

“Thank you so much,” you exclaim.

“Of course…” His fingers travel along your spine. “I’d just have a little favor to ask in return.”

“Sure, anything,” you answer easily.

He pulls back, lacing his fingers with yours.

“It’s not much.”

The heady scent of his cologne washes over you as he leans forward.

“I’ve been aching somewhere lately and I need you to make it better, cousin.”

“Oh, aching…where?”

“I think it’s best if I just show you.”

A foreboding inkling flares in your gut. Still, you don’t move as Felix “shows you”. He tugs on his shorts. He slowly pulls on the fabric, shimmying out of it as you hold your breath. When his length springs free, you unleash a small squeak. Your reaction drags a laugh out of Felix.

Though you don’t really want to, you can’t help but stare. It’s thick and long with veins running alongside the shaft. The tip points upward, glistening and red.

“I don’t know if I can help with…something like that,” you mumble, your voice wavering at the end.

“Sure you can.”

He lifts your chin, diving his eyes into yours.

“I just need somewhere warm, and soft, to slip the tip of my cock so it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Shock parts your lips.

“Felix…”

He hooks his thumb inside your open mouth, a lopsided grin stretching on his face.

“Come on, it’ll just be the tip, I promise. Then we never have to talk about it anymore. You won’t even feel it, I swear.”

“Just the…tip?” you say, your throat knotting as your gaze drifts down. You take in Felix’s size, swallowing thickly. It matches the rest of him, you suppose. You don’t even think it could fit, not fully. So just the tip is probably for the best. “Nothing more?”

“Just the tip. And I’ll talk to my dad first thing in the morning.” He strokes your cheek, uttering softly, “I bet your mom will be so happy for what you did for her.”

You heave out a deep, resigned breath. Right, your mom. While you’re not too comfortable with what Felix is asking for, if it means he’ll talk to Uncle James, you don’t have it in you to refuse. A favor for a favor. Then you’ll spend the rest of the summer forgetting it ever happened. You can do that.

You peer up at Felix.

“Okay then but don’t…stay too long.”

He beams at you.

“You’re amazing.”

Felix leans back. He removes his shorts fully, revealing himself in all his naked glory.

“Just lay back for me, cousin,” he instructs. He slants his head, satisfaction filling his gaze when you do as he says. “Open those perfect legs of yours.” His pupils swell with lust as you part your quivering thighs.

“Good girl,” he praises.

Felix crawls over you. You freeze. He grips the waistband of your pajama bottoms to slide them off your legs. He takes his time, agonizingly slow as he soaks in every tiny shift on your face. Horror curls your insides. You wish he’d just get it over with. But it’s clear Felix wishes to enjoy every mortifying second of this.

Your panties are next. Once again, he drags it out. Warmth blooms in your face as cool air hits your bare folds. It’s worse than last time, because there’s nothing to dull your senses, or pretend it isn’t happening.

“Don’t close your legs. I want to see everything,” he says when you try to hide from him. His throat bobs, hunger lurking in his eyes as he licks his lips. “You have a really pretty pussy, you know that, cousin?”

“Please, don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“B-Because it’s embarrassing.”

He smirks.

“You’re so fucking cute.”

Your cousin plucks the discarded camera and points it at your face. The blinding light sears your eyelids as he quickly snaps a series of pictures of you in the compromising position.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your pulse soaring.

“W-Why did you just take a picture?”

“Because I want to remember you like this.”

He chortles as you try to snatch the camera from his hands, keeping it out of your reach with ease with his long arm.

“Delete it, Felix,” you plead.

He tilts his head, his expression dripping with mischief.

“Sure, if you do everything I say, I’ll delete it.”

Tears brim beneath your lashes. You want to trust Felix. You really do. But he always asks for more. You wonder where it’ll end, if it ever will.

“You promise?”

“Of course. I’d never lie to you, cousin.”

He places the camera on the floor near the bed. If you thought you could get past him, destroy the camera, you would. However you’re beginning to realize something about Felix. He always gets his way.

He crawls his way to you. You don’t resist as Felix nudges you down, trapping you beneath him. The fitful drumming of your heart fills your ears.

He bends down, stealing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips sweep over yours, hungry, feverish. He cups the side of your face, moaning as he explores your mouth. His hands start wandering over your body. They feel everywhere at once, kneading and teasing your flesh. Felix pulls your top over your head so you’re in nothing but your bra.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue stealing your air and sanity. You melt beneath him.

The air is robbed from your lungs when he starts prodding at your entrance. Your fingers clench around the sheets. His thick tip stretches you so much already. You can barely take it.

His voice comes out hoarse and strained.

“You feel so bloody good.”

He pushes a bit more. You tense, your walls aching at his size. Your tearful gaze rises to the ceiling. Felix seizes your chin, pulling it so your eyes lock with his.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

He piledrives into you, sheathing himself inside you completely. Your vision flickers as he finds the hilt of you. Your lips part in a silent scream. Your chest heaves and falls quickly.

“Felix, you said…”

He shushes you, pinning both of your wrists above your head as he begins moving inside you. A wicked glow burns in Felix’s brown gaze. “I know what I said…but it feels too good inside you, cousin.”

“But you promised...” you sob.

He kisses away your tears, his voice mellowing.

“I’m sorry,” he says after thrusting inside you deeply. “I’m so sorry…” Your toes flex, stars creeping in your sight with each of your cousin’s vigorous thrusts. His pace doesn’t relent, even as you weep and plead him with your eyes. He almost seems to pluck joy from your quiet helplessness. His chest brushes over yours as his lips ghost over your earshell. “But I don’t think I can stop.”

Your breathing quickens. As Felix’s cock grazes along your sensitive spots, little whimpers spill from your throat. He drapes one hand over your mouth, still pounding inside you.

“Shh, be quiet for me, cousin. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, right?”

“I think our uncle likes you better than me.”

You look at your brother through your sunglasses. You’re thankful for them. They’ve done a nice job concealing the puffiness of your eyes. You’ve been crying a lot lately. Too often. It started the night Felix snuck into your room and the flood hasn’t really stopped since. All of it turns your stomach. The lying, the sneaking around…the sick, twisted lies. His sick, twisted lies. It was supposed to just be one time.

Felix deceived you.

Every night since that one, your cousin found his way into your room, coaxing you to do things that make you hate yourself afterwards. It’s even slowly escalated to daily trysts. Felix would conjure excuses to steal you away while your other relatives are blissfully unaware. Having his way with you in a dark corner. Fingering you in the library. Cornering you in the maze to taste the nectar between your legs. Your cousin seems determined to make sure no inch of Saltburn isn’t tainted by his wicked desires.

This is a nightmare.

Your mom was so overjoyed on the phone after receiving Uncle James’ payment. And you’re glad you could help. But the cost…Did your mother’s happiness have to occur at your expense? You’re so exhausted, ashamed. You don’t know how long you can stand to be the vessel for your cousin’s lurid fantasies.

Even proper rest is denied to you now, the fear of someone figuring it out keeping you wide awake for hours every night.

“I doubt that,” you say, your lips curving in a stilted smile.

Farleigh leans back in his lounge chair, pushing his sunglasses over his nose.

“Still, good job, little sis.” A wide grin blooms on his face. “Guess being a goody two-shoes has its perks.”

Your chest clenches at your brother’s remark.

As Felix’s eyes find yours from across the pond, your blood freezes. He smiles at you. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. You shift, your attention returning to your brother.

“I-I don’t know about that.”

You thought the awfulness reached its peak. You were wrong. A new brand of twisted is introduced by Felix during breakfast with the entire family.

He sits next to you, smiling at you. You don’t think much of it. Why would you? He’s done this before. Taunt you. Tease you. Torment you. Even in front of the rest of them.

But what he does today, while Aunt Elspeth sits across from you and your brother is on your other side…it’s just ghastly. Impious.

Felix’s digits roam atop your thigh. You shoot him a glare. He pointedly ignores you, carrying a casual conversation with his mom while playing with the hem of your dress.

You focus on your plate. He caresses the inside of your thigh as you bring the fork to your lips.

He presses two fingers against your clothed center. Pushing, pressing and swirling around your tender bud. Your knees rub, heat gathering at the apex of your thighs.

The metal of the fork damn near shatters your teeth as you choke on a mouthful of eggs.

You apologize swiftly, shakily grabbing the glass of water near your plate. You take a long swig from it and clear your throat. Felix’s digits dip further inside you. Your breath hitches. He stops just shy of letting you come apart, bringing you to the cusp only to retreat at the very last second. A meticulously thought out torture.

It lasts for almost the entirety of breakfast, only reaching an end when Venetia rises from the table. You follow right after her, excusing yourself with a tense smile.

Hollow steps take you through an endless series of hallways. You can hardly even think, the enormity of what your cousin just did in front of his parents, in front of everyone, shocking you into numbness. Where will his depravity end? You long for summer to end so perhaps you can finally be free from your cousin.

You wind up in an empty room brimming with dusty books and antiques. You sit in a corner, knees against your chest, as you revel in a rare moment of respite. You don’t get these as often anymore. Not if your cousin has anything to say about it.

As usual, it doesn’t take long for Felix to find you a little later. Your heart skips a beat when his towering frame darkens the doorway, blocking any chance of an escape.

“Playing hide and seek, cousin?” he teases, amusement laced in his voice.

Tears swim in your eyes as you shoot him an accusing look.

“At breakfast, really? Someone could have seen, Felix. M-My brother, he could have seen.”

Rolling his eyes, he hops towards you to take a seat next to you. His rebuttal is disturbingly nonchalant.

“We’re not gonna get caught.”

“I think we should stop,” you sputter, your mouth wobbling.

His brows squeeze together, a mix of annoyance and confusion twisting his features.

“Why?”

You fiddle with the bottom of your dress, struggling to meet his irate stare.

“I’m grateful for everything you did, really, but this doesn’t feel right.”

His cheek pulses, a strange grin dragging his lips upward. Your stomach sinks.

“We’re just having fun, you and I, cousin.”

Your words warp into a watery croak.

“This isn’t fun, Felix.”

A weary sigh drops from his chest.

“It’s because you’re overthinking it,” he says, reaching out to cup your cheek. You turn your head. Frustration flickers in your cousin’s eyes. As you try to stand, he grabs you and shoves you on the floor.

“Felix, no…”

Ignoring your sniveling pleas, Felix hastily unzips his jeans and yanks your underwear down to your ankles.

A strangled sob flows from your lips as he nestles himself inside your wet heat in a single deep, cruel thrust.

You’re a whimpering mess on the floor as your cousin pounds into you from behind.

“Just stop fighting it,” he grunts. He twists his fist in your hair, your scalp singing in pain when he tugs at your roots. Tears stream down your face while your cousin snaps his pelvis into your ass.

“See? This is good.” His warm, heavy exhales tickle your nape. “Doesn’t my cock inside you feel good, cousin?”

“Yes…” you begrudgingly admit, loathing how every time he sinks into you, your toes curl and your eyes roll back on their own, warm tingles dancing through your core.

“Look outside.” You wince as he angles your chin towards the window, his other hand still tangled in your hair. You’re greeted with a beautiful sight of the lush gardens sprawling before the castle. His hot whisper grazes your temple. “Do you see all this? How beautiful Saltburn is…especially in the summer.” His smile carves into your skin.

“One day, all of this will be mine, cousin.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek. Shivers course through your spine. “And it could be yours too… if you behave.”

#saltburn #felix catton #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton x reader #dark!felix catton #dark!felix catton x reader #saltburn 2023

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ellieslittlewh0re · 2 months

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𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝒇𝒊𝒏.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝖮𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖠𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒.

₊˚ପ⊹ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢'𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒, 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀) 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄/𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄, 𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝖻𝖼 𝗂𝖽𝖼 𝗅𝗈𝗅

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

Another couple of weeks came and went.

Abby still kept her distance, and you did what you were hired to do.

The first weekend after the kiss was painfully, and irrevocably delicate. With her son being away at his dad’s, and Abby not being able to hide away at work, there was no distractions, which only made it worse.

You two would dance around each other, trying your best to look the other way when passing each other in the halls or in the kitchen, but her eyes would linger when you weren’t looking.

It felt like you were tormenting her with your short skirts and your sheer, tight-fitting tops.

How could she NOT look?

She started to feel like she deserved it for leaving you on the bed that day, all breathless, and heavy eyelids, weighed down by lust.

Abby thought she was doing it for the right reasons, you know… not mixing work with play, but over the past few days, she realized it wasn’t that at all.

She wanted to be prepared.

So while you were taking care of her son, feeding him, bathing him, and teaching him how to spell his own fucking name, she was out buying a strap to fuck you with.

Whether she was going to go through with it or not, she wasn’t sure.

But her time to decide was running out. It was the weekend again, the house quiet and clean, which means you weren’t busy, and neither was she.

It was one of those evenings where you could hear the crickets chirping from the tree line that surrounded the house, fireplace lit and dim.

You were sitting on the bed of your room, which became your more preferred hanging out spot since the kiss, not wanting to face the possibility of a more straightforward rejection from Abby.

And Abby was in the kitchen, two empty glasses in front of her, and her palms face down in the counter.

This is so stupid, she kept telling herself, her eyes glancing between the glasses and the bottle of liquor.

She poured some into one, and brought the rim to her lips, swallowing all of it with the tilt of her head.

Has it really come down to needing liquid courage to face you? Yes. Yes it has, but not because she was scared or nervous. She had a good thing going with you here, and didn’t want to scare you off or taint the image of her you had in your head.

She wanted to live up to your expectations.

For Abby, even if things didn’t go in that direction tonight, and instead became more of a peace offering to be in your good graces again, the anxiety felt worth it.

So, she poured more into her glass, and put it back, but not before getting out a more palatable alcohol from the cabinet, and rummaging through her fridge for a juice to mix it with.

She eyeballed as she poured a couple of shots into the empty glass and filled the rest with more pleasurable-tasting liquid, taking a deep breath as she grabbed the glasses from the counter and made her way to your room.

She tapped on the slightly opened door with the back of her knuckle, and waited for your response before pushing the door the rest of the way open.

“Hey,” She smiled, meeting your eyes, to which you happily greeted her back, closing the book you were previously reading and setting it down.

Her eyes widened, then furrowed, scanning her eyes down your body at the tank top, and shorts you were wearing.

“Shit, were you about to go to bed? I’m sorry.” Abby, once again, felt dumb. Of fucking course you were. It’s late, and she suddenly felt like she was intruding your space, momentarily forgetting that it was her fucking house, and you’re no different than a tenant.

But she never thought about it that way, at least, not since she first saw you.

“Wha-?” You looked down, and crossed your arms over your chest to hide whatever modesty you had left, “No, no…. It’s okay. I wasn’t.”

Good.

You scooted to the end of the bed, dropping your arm because hell, you wanted her to see.

You watched her eyes for a falter, a hint, anything, but they maintained contact with yours. You didn’t make it easy for her though, wearing clothes that left little to the imagination but covered just enough to have her feening, imagination running wild at the idea of undeniable access.

Abby cleared her throat, and extended her arm, “Made you something.”

You take the glass from her hand, giving her a confused smirk, and take a sip.

She sat down beside you a safe distance, but close enough that you could smell the pine aroma of her body soap.

“Better?” She asked, keeping the conversation light, and steering away of anything that might drive you away.

But you weren’t dumb, you knew she was only here to “clear the air”, but a part of you still held onto the hope she changed her mind.

“Much better.”

You continued to sip to fill the empty spaces between each nervous glance and chuckle, letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out, and Abby did the same.

Abby’s thumb twirled around the rim of her glass, looking down at the rippling surface before looking back up, “I’m sorry about the other day.” She spoke softly, and genuinely, her bottom lip pouting more prominently than it usually did.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, it’s just-“ She paused, looking forward, and exhaled a deep breath, “You’re young. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

This caught you off guard, but it made perfect sense. Abby has always been respectful and cautious about the topic, but you also felt relief that it wasn’t as one-sided as you originally thought.

You weren’t being delusional after all.

The confirmation of her attraction towards you gave you a new sense of confidence. “How do you know I’m not the one taking advantage of you?” You asked in a hushed voice, sweet, crystallized sugar on your tongue as you leaned in, and shit-

Abby liked to think she had more of a backbone- a moral compass to help resist her temptations, but that flew out the window as soon as you did this.

Abbys eyes darkened, flickering between your parted lips before meeting your gaze, perhaps to get the go ahead signal from you but your lips were already on hers, which was good enough for her.

You’re pushed back slightly and let Abby’s tongue take control, her hand on your thigh and thumb vanishing under the hem of your shorts, squeezing the fat dangerously close to your cunt.

Her hand moved to your face, cradling the space between your cheekbone and neck, pulling you into her before breaking away, “Let’s move this to my room, yeah?” She breathed, her voice excreting an excitement that she tried hard to withhold, but it still found a way to remain firm like it wasn’t a question at all.

And all you could do was nod, head already fuzzy, and a feeling of sticky discomfort between your thighs.

Abby led you to her room, her hand in yours and your smaller strides following closely behind her larger ones.

You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and she kneels before you, never breaking eye contact. And honestly, you couldn’t look away even if the embarrassment and nauseating flutter in your stomach wanted to, being so captivated and eager to comply to her every demand.

Her hand followed the curve of your calf down before coming back up, and she rubbed her palms over the soft plush of your thighs, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

Her lips grazed the inside of your knee, placing a gentle kiss, “Can I taste you?” She asked, so sweet that it could’ve been mistaken as asking to borrow a cup of sugar, but the reaction it had on your body (and your pussy) said otherwise.

An uncontrollable squeak emitted from your throat,

“Y-yes…”

Her hands squeezed the tops of your thighs, molding your flesh between calloused fingers before focusing on your waistband.

You lifted your ass as she tugged, pulling the pants down the length of your legs and past your ankles and dropping them to the floor.

“Oh my god-“ She groaned, marveling at the sight of your pretty pink panties, now made see-through with your own arousal, “All this from a few kisses? You’re dirtier than I thought.” She sneered, moving closer. And how hypocritical of her to say that when she’s not much better off at this point.

“Abby… please.” You whined, lifting your hips from the mattress in an attempt to find some relief.

Abby was also impatient, and as much as she wanted to take her time, treat you right, she also just simply wanted to please you.

She looped her finger behind the crotch of your panties and pulled it away from your cunt. You sucked in a sharp breath, sinking your weight back on your elbows, and squeezed the sheets between your fingers as she did this. The cold air hitting the new skin sends a chill across your limbs.

Something happened inside of Abby’s body. It’s one thing to see it, but to feel it?? Feeling the effect she had on your body- how wet you were, and how she could practically feel you try to suck her in even though she barely made it past the first knuckle… It was primal. A inextinguishable fire that kept burning brighter with each passing breath.

Your body is yanked down, ass pulled to the edge of the bed, and your thighs are thrown over her shoulders, her arms locking in around them.

You yelped at the sudden difference, looking down at her with a worried expression, but your head immediately falls back as her mouth encapsulates your clothed pussy.

You moaned, eyes disappearing into the back of your head.

She sucked, hallowing her cheeks around your bundle of nerves, and used her tongue to soak you through your panties with her spit.

Once again, she pulled the fabric down, tightening it flush with your cunt, and licked you through the ribbed cotton, letting your flavor seep into her mouth through the barrier.

But her patience was thinning. She needed to taste you properly, and she needed her hands free so she could hold your wriggling legs in place.

“I’m sorry” Was all she said, and you didn’t even have time to process it before you felt a harsh yank against your hips and the sound of fibers tearing apart.

Inhale, exhale.

Your wines hoarse, mouth dry. Crescent-shaped indents carved into Abby’s forearms and hands from your nails that were desperately grabbing at her- overstimulated and clit throbbing after the third orgasm of the night.

And she hasn’t even fingered you yet.

Her mouth detaches, and you sigh a breath of relief, but even with her absence, an uncomfortable buzzing still lingered.

She came up, placing both hands on the beside your face, and kissed you, slipping her tongue inside to give you a taste of yourself still on her tongue.

She started kissing you down your neck and chest, one of her hands sliding underneath your shirt, “Can you handle more?” She asked, lips grazing the surface of skin above your collarbone.

Inhale, exhale.

“Y-yes.” You nodded, tightening your legs around her hips, pulling her in because even though you were ran dry, you still craved the pressure of her inside.

She connected her lips with yours, and her hand placed itself around your jaw, cradling it. It was slow, patient, but also overpowering, made you feel even smaller somehow.

She pulled away, her lips still ghosting over yours, “Good girl.”

She gets up and turns away, disappearing behind the bathroom door, and leaves it open a few inches before re-entering a short time later, except nothing could have prepared you for this.

Inhale, exhale.

Shiny leather straps hugged her hips, dipping around the backside of the boxers and accentuating her ass, accompanied by the black silicone standing between her legs, big enough that it suited her size, almost seeming natural on her.

Your cunt clenches, and your thighs rub together as she approached.

Inhale, exhale.

She climbed on top, and your legs immediately open for her, welcoming her between them, and wrapping around her backside.

She was already inside, sinking herself in a couple of centimeters at a time and pausing in between to give you time to adjust to the girth.

Inhale, exhale.

You whined, nails etching across her back, and she was quick to soothe you with another kiss, “We shouldn’t do this.” She breathed between pecks but made zero attempts to stop it- in fact, she snapped her hips forward, filling you up with the last of her until the base was flush with your cunt.

Skin slapping against skin, beads of sweat tracing the edges of Abby’s forehead, and both of your legs hogtied together by her arm, holding them against her body, your feet dangling in the air.

Your ass wasn’t even on the bed at this point since she was quite literally holding you up, instead using her strength and size to her advantage to get the perfect angle inside of you, using you like you were her own little fuck doll.

It was rough, tender, but rough.

She’d check in on you, chanting little praises like how you were doing such a good job, but she’d also spew out a symphony of possessive remarks.

“Whose pussy does this belong to, hm?” And you’d muster the very little strength you had, mumbling exactly what she wanted to hear, your eyes rolling to the back of your fucking brain.

“That’s right… s’mine.” She’d grunt, picking up her pace, and slamming her hips into the back of your thighs, her strap bulging against the surface of your tummy.

“A-Abby…” You whimpered, but it hardly sounded like anything at all. You reached her hand that was squeezing you-holding you by the thigh, using it like a fucking handle to drill her cock into you.

“Abby..” you said again, trying to warn her of your impending orgasm, but she didn’t hear you, or she was just ignoring you because she doesn’t slow down, not even for a second.

Your eyes roll back before squeezing shut, limbs stiffening, “fuck, fuck, fu- ohmygod“ The plush of your bottom lip stung, edges of your teeth sinking into it before your jaw slacks. Your body trembles, hips bucking, but Abby still just holds you there and only pauses inside of you when your orgasm visualizes itself- a overflow of milky, viscous elixir seeping down the length of her strap.

She pulls out, dropping your legs to the mattress, and she’s panting heavily, the highs of her cheeks glistening against the warm glow of the lamp.

She’s hovering over you, kissing your cheek, and along your jaw.

She was being so, SO sweet, particularly because she felt bad for essentially bringing you to tears, but also because she was trying to make up for what she’s about to do next.

Her hands slip between the bed and your back, pulling you from it and lifting you up. Your legs are wrapped around her waist when your back hits a solid surface- the wall.

“Abby…” Abby you say, confused and still delirious, “what are you-?”

“Just one more… please. I know you can do it.” She was also delirious, words rushed and slightly slurred- trance-like, and dead set on being inside of you just to see how fucking dumb you get all over again.

It was like a drug to her, terrified of the consequences, the what-ifs, but once she tried it, she knew from then on she’d always crave more.

Now, she didn’t fucking care about the consequences.

This time, you initiated the kiss, and moan as her hands squeeze the fat of your ass, fingerprints breaking the blood vessels across your skin.

She pulls away, a loose strand of straight, golden hair blowing with her jagged breaths, “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You nod, bitting down on your bottom lip as she lifted you higher, and angled herself below your cunt.

You cling to her neck as you’re lowered onto her cock, tears brewing at the corners of your eyes, and using her shoulder to mute yourself from crying out.

“Hey, hey… I got you“ She cooed, tilting her head so her lips were aligned with your ear, “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Just relax.”

Inhale, exhale.

She lowers you some more, hands gripping the underside of your thighs, and veins straining in her hands from the sheer amount of effort she was using to keep you steady.

You lock eyes with her, a pull between the center of your brows, and lips glossy with spit. You stretch around her, walls expanding to her size mixed with the new angle that proved to hit even deeper than before, which says a lot.

“That’s it… good girl.” The corner of her lips tug into an almost smirk, faint enough to miss it if you weren’t 5 inches from her face.

She started slow, scared to hurt you, and letting you grind your hips with her deep inside, but then she started to manually move you herself, lifting you and then guiding your hips as they came back down.

The pain was blinding, and casted white in the peripheral of your eyes. Your cheek slid across Abby’s shoulder, dampened by your tears, and that’s when she sped up.

You let out a cry, and your head goes back, slamming against the wall, but within seconds the pain lessens, instead being replaced by indescribable pleasure.

Abbys breathing heavily, her head resting in the crook of your neck, and yours hands interlocking behind her head.

It was so intimate, so vulnerable, and unlike anything either you have ever experienced in past relationships.

“Abby… I’m gonna- mmhm… gonna cum.” Your voice trembled, a rasp forming in your throat from the events that have transpired over the past three hours.

Sweat trickled between your tits, and strands of Abby’s hair stuck to her forehead in what seemed like a purposeful manner- swirled, and wave-like in design.

“I got you, I got you…” She said, her voice trailing off, becoming too focused on the stakes at hand.

See, Abby was scared of this night ending. Maybe it started as a forbidden crush in the beginning, but now?? With your eyes puffy, lashes wet and clumping together, and your pretty lips hugging her cock, she was no doubt in love.

You sing her name, pleading for her lips, and she immediately complied, kissing you as she both thrusted her hips into you, and moved your body up and down on her strap, surely bruising you for days to come.

As you come down from your orgasm, you loosen your grip on her, limbs feeling like jell-o, and she carefully lays you back down in the bed, leaving you for a moment to fetch a damp rag.

She’d be so gentle cleaning you up and leaving kisses across your chest and shoulders like her touch could reverse the deepening of the crimson splotches she left all over your body.

She’d also dress you, putting you in one of her t-shirts as soon as the opportunity comes because it’s something she has been thinking about for weeks at this point, not only the size difference between you two exciting her but also the fact that you’re wearing her clothes, which only makes her fantasy of you being her little wife feel that much more real.

When she’d determine you were sufficiently taken care of, she’d get in bed with you, pulling you into her arms with your back against your chest.

You hummed, a weak smile on your face and closed eyelids, falling into one of the best sleeps of your life.

Abby, however, didn’t.

Yes, she was exhausted, but all night as she held you, she couldn’t stop thinking about how the morning would materialize and how you’d react when she told you that she loved you.

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ೃ⁀➷ @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith @sapphicsuperstar444 @lmaoo-spiderman @williamsangel @falloutboy-lover @atyourmerci @mskbitch @r3starttt

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satelitis · 3 months

Text

꒰ NECK KISSES ꒱ . . . p. jackson !

pairing(s) : percy jackson x reader.

in which your boyfriend percy becomes super clingy when tired.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : kissing,flirting,use of cute pet names, toothrotting fluff.

robin chirps : thank you to @spaceagebachelormann for encouraging my thoughts of the love of my life percy and for giving me the breakthrough idea for this cute little blurb. ily zigma 🫶🏼.

you felt a dip in the spot next you. well, more like an earthquake, because your boyfriend percy had flung himself on the bed beside you, a soft and muffled group escaping his lips in doing so.

you smiled softly at the mop of curls laying face down next to you as you continued reading. percy looked up at you as your eyes scanned the pages of the novel.

“baby…” percy chimed. you looked up from your task once again. you hummed softly, indicating he should continue with whatever he had to say. he didn’t say anything, he just layed his head of curls on your book as it was in your lap. you laughed softly as you moved your book over, placing a bookmark between the pages and setting it on your nightstand.

you subconsciously started playing with percy’s hair, running your fingers through it and massaging his scalp.

as you two adjusted and he was now laying on your chest as you two lay in the dark, he placed soft angel like kisses on your neck, one after the other. his hair tickling your collarbone and jawline as well. you giggled.

”i love you.” he mumbled quietly in the crook of your neck. “so so so much.” he continued tracing small shapes on your collarbone area.

“i love you too.” you replied. “more than anything.” you told him tracing the freckles on his upper arm.

he smiled, and you smiled. a chaste kiss was shared between the two of you. your soft pink lips and percy’s slightly chapped but sweet lips connected for a brief couple of seconds before breaking apart.

there was a serene silence, until percy spoke up. “did y’know you’re really pretty?” he asked, looking up at you with those eyes. you rolled your eyes softly as you blushed and couldn’t conceal the cheesy smile on your face.

“what? it’s true. you’re the prettiest, best, most amazing, sweetest person i have ever met.” he spoke. you shook your head with that goofy grin on your face, you couldn’t seem to wipe off.

the next hour was filled with kisses. all over, on the temple, on the forehead, on the cheek but especially on the neck.

as you continued moving your fingers through percy’s hair softly, he fell asleep in your arms. soft snores came from his slightly parted lips. you kissed his temple softly, as you cherished the moment and fell asleep as well.

#lmao this lowkey sucked 🫣🫢🤩#──★ ˙robin writes !!#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n

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offthepages · 4 days

Text

And so, the stars aligned.

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader.

Summary: After the Cauldron had transformed you and your sisters into High Fae, it takes some adjusting. But as life settles down, your left with searing normalcy and dealing with your sisters being grossly in love.

Warnings: None!

This is going to be part of a ongoing series! Feel free to send over any other ideas!

part two part three

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were happy for your sisters. Truly. Feyre had found Rhysand and made her life here better than anything you could have imagined back home in the rundown cabin you had grown up in. Nesta, well she was still Nesta. But now she had Cassian. And they were annoyingly in love.

But here you were. Sitting in the gardens with your only other single sister, book perched in your lap as you get distracted watching how Elain floats gracefully through the gardens. She had a few smears of dirt across her cheek, and a light sweat sheen made it look like she was glowing as the sunlight hit her. The sound of footsteps echoed as someone approached the gardens. Looking over you saw Azriel standing there- noting how he purposefully made himself known before entering. He doesn't bother to look in your direction at first, his eyes trained on where Elain was kneeling.

"Az!" Elain chirps, quickly standing and smoothing out her dress. Smiling up at the Shadowsinger. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Azriel had the faintest smile as he looked at Elain. "I wanted to make sure you were doing well." Finally he looks over in your direction. His hazel eyes meeting yours as he seemed to share the same sentiment towards you as well. Elain seemed to remember that you were there as well. Looking over at you, she gives an easy smile.

"I think we're doing well. What about you? y/n?" She asks overly sweet. And you knew your sister well enough to know she was telling you to answer and find a way out so she can be alone with Az.

Smiling as well, though admittedly tighter due to her sisters look. You understood her hesitance with her mate. But did she really not even respect the man enough to just flat out reject him? He clearly wasn't accepting her indifference as rejection. "I'm well." You nod, standing and stretching with a slight yawn. "I think I'm going to take a nap."

Elain winks at you, taking Azriel's arm as she tugs him further into the gardens. Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you head upstairs toward the room Feyre had crafted just for you. And you couldn't lie. It was so nice to have your own room, your own space. A luxury you couldn't have ever imagined the nights you laid on the floor of the old cabin.

You were young when your mother passed. You had barely known what life was like before poverty. Just two years younger than Feyre, it had been enough to ensure that you couldn't read- but like Feyre you knew the Alphabet…at least somewhat. You wondered if you could teach yourself to read now? You look at the book you had in your hands and sighs. Tossing it aside, you just occasionally flipped through the pages to make it look like you were doing anything else but getting lost into your head. Letting yourself fall back onto your bed, looking up at the ceiling. Boredom was going to kill you. Not wanting to wither away just yet. You got up with a heavy sigh and decided to go find Nyx. If there had been nothing good about becoming a High Fae, he would be your shining light. He was the Archeron's pride and joy. You and your sisters argue over being the favorite Aunt. Nesta claims that since she saved his, and Feyre's life, she is automatically the favorite. You and Elain told her that Nyx doesn't know her yet so it's not a fair assumption. Secretly, deep down you know that you're the favorite.

Making your toward Rhys's office- where you knew Feyre tended to be around this time. Gently knocking on the door, "It's open!" Rhys answers and looks toward the door expectantly. Stepping in you give a small smile.

"I have come to steal your son." You joke, walking in and seeing the baby in Feyre's arms. Her and Rhys laugh as Nyx perks up at you reaching his little arms out. You can't help the smile growing on your face as you take him. "Well hello there, Nxyie!" You coo as you brush the hair out of his face. He babbles to you, and you nod along to it. As if it isn't just gibberish.

"Nothing exciting going on y/n?" Rhys asks, standing from his desk as he wraps an arm around Feyre and presses a kiss to her temple. You shake your head.

"You're welcome to join us, we were just about to go out to lunch." Feyre offers, her smile is soft and sweet. She was practically glowing here. Gently you shook your head.

"Nah, when's the last time you guys had some alone time? I've got Nyx go enjoy." You give your sister and her mate a gentle smile. They look at each other- eyes glossing over as they talk to each other. You try and keep the ache in your heart out. Watching your sisters fall in love was the best thing that ever happened to you, to them. You were so insanely happy for them it was sometimes hard to remind yourself that mates take time. And yours would be out there, and you'd find them one day.

Feyre turns to you, "If you're okay with watching him then we'd be happy to take you up on the offer. "

"I can compen-" Rhys begins but you cut him off before he can continue.

"He is my nephew, Rhysand." You hardly used his full name. Giving a playful glare as you turn away with Nyx, who giggles at the movement. "You don't have to pay me to watch him."

Feyre laughs and shrugs, looking up at him. "I told you she wouldn't accept." Rhys hands his hands up defensively.

"Don't say I didn't try." He gives an easy smile to you and Feyre. In a few quick steps he presses a kiss to Nyx's head. "Behave for your Aunt." He tells him gently, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. "And you, call me if you need anything." You nod and smile as Feyre also quickly kisses Nyx's cheek and tells him that she loves him. Hugging you as they leave.

You look back at the infant in your arms. It was strange to how much this little guy looked like your sister, but there was so much more Rhys in him. He blinks his big blue eyes up at you. "Well Nyx. It's just me and you." You sigh and give an exaggerated shrug to jostle him- earning a giggle.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Laying on the floor, you continue to play with Nyx. His attention currently on a crinkly kids book. And you try to read the book with him- able to make out a few words.

"Pretending to read that one too?"

You jump as you whip around to see Azriel there. HIs face remains stoic, but his eyes have a glint of amusement in them. You wrinkle your nose at the Illyrian in front of you. "Spying on us?"

He raises any eyebrow and crosses the room, sitting next to you and picking up Nyx. Holding him up above him, "Hello Nyx." Nyx babbles in return and Azriel nods along as well. He looks back toward you as he lowers Nyx and passes him back the book. "He says that you were reading to him."

You smile, leaning back on your hands as you look at him. Raising an eyebrow while Azriel continues to look at you- you'd normally shy away under the Shadowsingers gaze. But for some reason today you can't seem to do that right now. "Is that so?"

Azriel simply nods. "But if you ask me, I think you were just fake reading to him."

If there was one person who had picked up on your inability to read. It would have been the Spy master himself. "What makes you think that?"

Not expecting the challenging tone from you, you could swear that Azriel looked shocked for a second. But he leans forward, equally as challenging. "What is your book about?"

Shit. You blink, what would make it so he wouldn't question you? "…romance. Pure. Filthy romance. I got it from Nesta." You lie quickly and pray to the Mother that he believed you.

Azriel nods, seeming satisfied with that answer. "You ran out of the garden quickly." He notes. You could have sworn that as you looked at him leaning back there was a…sadness to his voice. But that would be ridiculous. He was in love with Elain.

"I wanted to give you and Elain time." You shrug, looking back at Nyx who is now smashing two trucks together. You take one of the rubber ducks on the floor, setting it on your nephew's head.

"I went out there to talk to both of you."

You don't dare to look at him. "Is something wrong?"

"…No." He says after some contemplation. Taking another duck and setting it on the babes shoulder. Nyx seemed unbothered by it. Continuing to smash the trucks.

"Then, no harm no foul. Right?" You smile as you look back over at Azriel. And the spy master didn't flinch at your words, but something told you that he didn't agree.

"I suppose." He nods. Getting up and bowing to you. "Goodbye Nyx, Goodbye y/n."

You scoop up Nyx and make him wave, trying to ease the tension. "Say bye-bye Uncle Az!"

And there was a hint of a smile from Azriel before he turned and walked out. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: This was a lot of exposition, but I swear that there is more drama coming up!!

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #elain archeron #elain x lucien

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oneforthemunny · 7 months

Text

hard learning |dom!steddie x sub!reader|

prompt: eddie and steve find out you've been lying to them. they're less than impressed with you.

contains: MINORS DNI 18+ ABSOLUTELY DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE NOT 18+!!!!! poly relationship (throuple), steve x eddie x reader, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, language, mentions of dom/sub themes, spanking, degrading, mean dom!steddie, gagging, oral fem receiving, double penetration, aftercare

Steve walked through the front door of the small home, shoulders slumped and rounded with defeat of the day. He hated midterm week, hated the week after it even more. When the college kids scrambled in to cram as much studying as they could, spilling over books and notes, scouring for the supplied they needed to pass the classes so they could enjoy their spring break. It made Steve crazy.

Waldenbooks was buzzing, sales had been great so his boss would be happy, but his employees- most college students themselves- had requested off for spring break, leaving Steve short staffed and running the store.

He could hear your giggle from the hallway, floating towards him like a soothing melody, eyes fluttering shut at the sound. You'd chose to stay home for spring break, to stay with him and Eddie. Your junior year (the second time around) was spent having lazy days in bed with the boys, savoring the moments with them before they went to work, sweet kisses and quiet moans spilled between crumpled bed sheets.

You'd sucked Steve off that morning in the bathroom while he brushed his teeth. He didn't even ask you to. You just followed him in, dropping to your knees on the fluffy bath mat with a sleepy smile. "Missed you, Stevie," You hummed, nuzzling into the soft skin of his tummy, warm with sleep, soft lips trailing kisses down to his boxers.

You didn't ask, and Eddie would have corrected you. Yanked you back by your hair, bending you over the sink to spank you until you were crying, promising you learned your lesson. But Steve couldn't bring himself to do it, not when you were so sweet, and you were making him feel so good.

Steve rounded the corner into the living room, watching you reach on your tip toes to dust the top of the shelf. You were a good girl like that, keeping the house tidy for them. They'd given you chores, of course, tasks for you to complete for rewards or punishment if you didn't, but they didn't have to. You'd do it for them regardless,

Eddie's boom box sat on the table, cranked to a pop radio station that hummed softly, filling the space with the bubbly music you liked. You wiggled your hips to the beat, unaware of Steve's presence behind you until you turned, a squeal of surprise leaving your lips.

"Steve!" You gasped, holding the duster to your chest. "You scared me!" You shrilled, eyes bulging at him.

Steve grinned. "Sorry, angel, didn't mean to scare ya." He reached for the buttons of his top, popping the buttons free down his chest.

You blushed gently, biting your bottom lip while you swayed, eyeing him hungrily. Steve bit back a grin. Of course you were pent up, here all alone after this morning, poor girl.

Turning the dial to the radio down, you set the duster down, sauntering over to Steve. "D'ya have a good day?" You chirped, finishing off the last few buttons.

Steve watched your manicured fingers undo the last of the buttons, pulling the tail of the shirt out of his work slacks slowly. "Pretty good." Steve hummed. "Can't wait for this week to be over and my workers come back. Maybe I can actually have a day off next week."

You sighed sympathetically, pouting up at him. "I'm sorry, Stevie." Sliding your hands down to his belt, innocent enough, you undoing his belt like that, yet Steve throbbed behind his zipper.

"Maybe I can help you relax?" You suggested, tilting your head to the side. "Ed's supposed to be home in a few so we can," You let your hands trail, featherlight fingertips trialing to brush over his bulge. "Play, a little later." You grinned wickedly, a devious little smile that had Steve's chest constricting.

"Fuck," Steve groaned, watching you play him lightly over his pants. "You're not supposed to be-fuck- touching us without permission, are you?" He furrowed his brows sternly down at you, faltering a little when you squeezed him, just lightly enough to have him groaning.

"But I'm just trying to make you feel better, Stevie." You pouted, rolling your palm over the rough cotton of his dark pants. "Just trying to be good for you. Make you feel good."

Steve's breathing stuttered, willing himself to pull your hand back despite his sense screaming at him. "Thank you, baby, that did feel good, but," Steve gave your hand a tight squeeze when you huffed, brows lifting in warning. "Let's wait for Ed. You know he'll be sad if we start without him."

Your bottom lip juts out a little further, but you nod, stepping back from Steve so he could walk towards the bedroom. "Did you get everything done?" Steve asked, looking over his shoulder, hard sole loafers clacking against the hardwood down the hall.

You drooled, eyes trained on the shiny shoes. You remembered when Steve first got them, only a few weeks ago. You'd been bratty that day, huffy and irritated while shopping. Steve had hauled you out of the shoe store, spanking you with the loafer in the car. It had stung something awful, and the following spanking with Eddie's paddle had been miserable, yet you ached at the thought, panties embarrassingly wet at the memory.

"Mmhmm," You hummed, swallowing the drool that pooled in your mouth at the thought. "I have our laundry washing right now. Just have to finish up the towels. The dryer is taking a while to dry again."

Steve sighed in response. "Tell Eddie when he gets home. He'll have to look at it again." As if on cue, the front door closed. You perked up, grinning at the sound of the other man, your other lover. Steve smirked. "Speak of the fuckin' devil."

Eddie's heavy boots carried down the hallway and you grinned, peeking around to greet him. "Hi, baby," Eddie cooed.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He was still in his little work badge. He found it demeaning, embarrassing, but you thought he looked positively delicious in it. Eddie worked down at a local music instrument shop, the specialist in all things guitar related. With the grunge, punk rock wave that was creeping through the music world, everyone wanted an electric guitar. Lucky for Eddie. He sold, tuned, and even repaired and gave lessons on the side for some extra cash. The only downside was the badge- rather a plaque that was bigger than an index card- that all employees had to wear on their chest. A cheesy, oversized, cartoony music note with the stores name on it that Eddie cringed at every time he put it on.

"Hi," You chirped, pulling back, eyes shining at him. "Missed you."

Eddie smirked, pecking your pouting lips. "Missed you." He sighed, walking towards the bedroom with you hanging off his waist. "Have a good day?"

You nodded, looking over at Steve, shirtless in his boxers, rummaging through his drawers for more comfortable clothes. "Did you?" You asked, dazed, zoned in at the sight of Steve's hairy chest.

Eddie snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Pretty good." He reached beneath his shirt to take off the badge attached. "You got something in the mail, baby. Laid it by the stove. Something from school."

You froze, eyes widening slightly. It was your midterm grades, shit. They weren't supposed to send those until after Spring Break, those fuckers. Steve's brow raised, looking up at you skeptically. "What is it?"

"I don't know!" You squeaked, quick and defensive. You cringed slightly at the boys' furrowed brows. "I'll go check. Be right back." You smiled sweetly towards them, scampering towards the kitchen.

Eddie looked at Steve, brow raised wordlessly, skeptically towards each other.

You cursed under your breath, sorting through the bills, magazines, ads, until you saw it. Your name printed across it with the University's crest in the corner. White knuckled grip on the envelope, you folded it up tight, balling it in your fist. You knew the boys would check the trash, so you opted to get to the guest bathroom down the hall, shove it in the box of tampons until you could dispose of it when they're not home.

You turned down the hall, hand hidden behind your back. You stepped towards the opposite hall, barely making it past the doorframe. "What was it, baby?" Steve asked, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You cringed, stopping in the hall. You peeked around the corned, body hidden by the wall. Steve looked at you expectantly. "Nothing!" You chirped. "It was just something about my financial aid."

Steve lifted a brow. "Where are you going?" He asked. Eddie joined him, looking at you over his shoulder, tugging a t-shirt over his head.

You felt your heart thump hard in your chest. "I have to pee." You said simply.

Eddie raised a brow suspiciously. Steve scoffed lightly, eyeing you skeptically. "So come in here?" He raised a brow, that obvious tone that made your cheeks burn.

Eddie's eyes narrowed at you. "Yeah, baby," He said smoothly, eerily calm. "Come in here."

You stuttered, eyes flashing from the bathroom back to the boys. You halfway contemplated making a run for the bathroom, but you knew that would only make your punishment worse.

Feet dragging towards the boys, you kept your hands behind your back, fist balled with the folded letter, cheeks red under their watchful gaze. "Excuse me." You muttered, politely, trying to push back the two figures crowding the door. They didn't budge. "Excuse me." You huffed, gritted teeth and annoyed.

"Look at me." Eddie barked, commanding and mean.

You blistered under his gaze, slowly lifting your eyes up to him. "Eddie, stop being mean." You whined, foot stomping on the ground. "I have to pee, let me through-"

"What are you hiding?" Eddie asked, nodding towards you.

Your spine straightened, palms sweating around the folded paper. "Nothing." You said quickly.

Steve rolled his eyes with an unimpressed snort. "Right." He scoffed sarcastically. Your cheeks burned, eyes narrowing in retaliation. "Show me what you've got in your hand."

"I don't have anything in my hand, Steve." You snapped. "Let me pee or I'm going to the other bathroom."

Eddie reached out for you, eyes widening in shock when you pivoted, jumping back out of his grasp. You met his eyes, yours rounded slightly, while Steve's bounced between the two of you, a little apprehensive at what Eddie might do. He was always the stricter one, the meaner one. You didn't disobey him often, sure that he'd make you sorry for it if you did.

Eddie gawked, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. He looked over at Steve, nodding slightly towards you. You froze just before both men seized for you. "No!" You screeched, turning to run down the hall, but they caught you easily, each by the arm, holding you firmly.

Your first stayed clenched against the letter, wriggling and fighting in their grasp. "Stop it! Let me go!" You shrilled, pulling each of your arms.

"What's she got, Stevie?" Eddie asked, strong hands pinning your arm down, pivoting you body so your arm was trapped against him. His free hand went to steady your flailing limb, locking on your elbow. Normally, you'd love being manhandled by them, especially with the way the veins in their arms were throbbing prominent. It was enough to make your mouth water, even if you were about to be facing a harsh punishment.

You wiggled and fought, white knuckled fist gripping the letter. Steve wrenched your hand open, peeling your fingers open until he could fish the wadded letter out. He cried out triumphantly, holding it above his head, away from your hands. Eddie pulled you in tight to his chest, arms pinning your own down while you writhed against him, desperate to get free.

"What is it?" Eddie snapped, grip tightening with ever squirm and wiggle you gave.

Steve ripped the envelop open easily, eyes scanning over the crinkled paper. "No!" You cried out, lip wobbling already. "That's mine! Not yours! Give it back, Steve, it's not funny!" You knew it sounded juvenile, but you didn't care. You were desperate to get it back before he saw it. Before he saw the D you had in your Literature class.

The boys were strict with you and your school work, adamant that you do all your work so you were on track to graduate. You'd been mostly good, but the literature class was so draining. So much reading and analyzing, and sure, you'd missed a few assignments, but they didn't need to know that.

Steve's eyes flashed over to you. You stilled in Eddie's arms, cowering slightly under his glare. "What is it?" Eddie asked, looking from you back to Steve.

Steve's lips pressed together. "You want to tell him, or should I?"

You whimpered in response, deciding to try and wiggle free since Eddie's grip had loosened. He tightened his hold back on you, looking over at the letter that Steve held out. You could feel him tense, jaw tightening.

Eddie's hands were tight on your forearm, pulling you so he could see your face. More importantly so you should see him, stern and upset, dark eyes pooling with disappointment. "You have a D?" He asked. You shrunk slightly.

"How did you even get a D?" Steve asked, hands on his hips, glaring back at you. "We check your calendar every night and you-" Steve paused, face dropping. "Did you purposely not write down your assignments?" You looked down, silently.

Steve stomped over, hands grabbing your chin firmly, lifting it to meet his angry amber eyes. "I asked you a question."

"Yes." You sniffled, bottom lip already wobbling. "I just... I didn't want to do it all right then. I have so much other stuff to do and-and it was just one-"

"Stop." Steve snapped, shaking his head at you. "Don't you dare lie to me. I'm not stupid, baby, I know this was more than one assignment."

Eddie's eyes flashed down in disappointment at you, appalled by your boldness. Your face dropped, looking down at your feet. "'M sorry, Stevie." You whispered.

Eddie hummed, exhaling slowly while he looked over at Steve. "That's extremely disappointing." He shook his head slowly, taunting.

"I'm sorry." You croaked, teary eyed looking up at him, your sweetest, subbiest eyes, desperate to have him soften towards you.

"No," Eddie shook his head, free hand moving to pinch your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger. "But you will be." You whimpered, the small pat against your cheek a foreshadowing, taunting you with what's to come.

"What happens when you break our rules?" Eddie asked, eyes dark and peering into yours.

Your lips quivered. "Get punished." You muttered, cheeks blooming with heat.

Steve's hand knotted through the back of your hair, tugging your head back sharply. "Speak up." He snapped.

You whined at the pain. "I get punished, sirs." You huffed, you couldn't help the pout on your lips, not when they were being so mean with you.

Eddie looked at Steve, head bobbing just barely so he'd release his grip. Eddie loosened his grasp he had around you, catching your chin before you could fully relax at the released pressure.

"I want you kneeling in front of the bed waiting for us. You know how we want you." Eddie commanded.

You nodded obediently, his grip releasing your chin. You stepped towards the hall. "Nuh-uh." Steve snapped, eyes narrowing down at you. "Crawl. You know better."

You flushed at his chastisement, slowly sinking to your knees. The wood was hard against your joints, but you knew better than to complain; knew you'd be complaining about much more in a while.

Hands and knees dragging slow against the wood, you yelped at Eddie's palm cracking hard against your ass when you passed him. You desperately wanted to rub the sting, but you knew he'd tie you up if you did. On second thought, he'd probably do that anyways.

You shuddered, slowly shedding your clothes, tossing them in the dirty clothes hamper. The shushed tones of the boys outside made you shiver with anticipation, unsure and anxious at their plan for you. Sinking back down on the floor, facing the bed, spine long, palms resting on your thighs you waited. Straining to hear their conversation, but keeping your head straight.

Their synced footsteps started towards you, making your spine shoot with electricity. You started ahead, eyes trained on the bed post. You could see them, on either side of you in your peripheral.

"I'm giving you one chance." Steve said sternly, the letter still in his hand. "Tell me how many assignments you missed."

You opened your mouth to retaliate, Eddie stopping you. "You better be truthful." He warned. "It tells us on here, and if you lie to me, I'll go get my cane."

You shuddered at the threat. There was nothing you hated more on earth than the cane. They both knew that, only bringing it out when you really needed to be punished. The looming threat alone was enough to make you shape up.

You swallowed hard, lips pressing together, nails biting into the skin of your thighs. "T-Three, sir." You muttered.

Steve's brow lifted. "You sure about that?" He challenged, making your heart race.

You thought for a moment, brain wracking and filtering through the assignments. "I-I'm sure." You nodded. "Three. Two analysis and a quiz."

Eddie tsked, head shaking in disappointment. "Two analysis and a quiz." He mocked back at you. You pressed your lips together to keep the cry swelling in your chest down. "Can you believe that Stevie?"

"I can't." Steve pressed his lips together, shaking his head at you. "I would've thought our girl knew better."

"Me too." Eddie nodded, a heavy, exaggerated sigh leaving his lips. "And here I was thinking I was gonna get to be sweet to you tonight, baby." Eddie cooed, hand running down your hair. You tensed under his touch, senses heightened with every slow drag of his hand, anticipating the next move.

"You've been so good lately and now I see why," Eddie taunted, circling you like a shark to it's prey, all sharp teeth and an even sharper gaze. You kept your eyes forward, hands on your knees, clenching so you wouldn't shudder. "You've been trying to sweeten us up, haven't you?"

"She has." Steve nodded, arms crossing to stand in front of Eddie. "Been playing us all this time, hasn't she?"

Eddie hummed. "So you are smart then?" He tilted his head to the side. He could see you tense, eyes scanning you carefully. Though a punishment, you were still playing, he didn't want to overstep. The verbal humiliation and degrading was new, something the three of you were trying out.

"She's very smart." Steve cooed, and it made your heart swell. Hearing how genuine it sounded, how sweet and sincere.

Eddie's hand petted your hair gently. "I know she is." Eddie smirked, pushing strands of hair behind your ear. "You just make dumb decisions, don't you?"

His hand kept petting your locks, hand moving down to the ends of your hair. You gasped when Eddie tugged them without warning, pulling your head to tilt back and look at him. "I asked you a question, brat."

"Yes, Daddy." You whimpered. Eddie lifted a brow, eye narrowing at you in warning, it wasn't the answer he wanted and you knew that. You knew better than to try and sweeten him with his beloved title. "Yes, sir." You muttered, lip jutting.

Eddie released your hair, walking towards his closet. You so desperately wanted to look, but kept your eyes trained on the bed. You could feel Steve watching you, ensuring your eyes didn't wander while they picked out your punishment, decided your fate.

"Hmm, Stevie, what do you think?" Eddie asked, rummaging through the space. "How should we handle a liar?"

"I think you should get her gag out. The metal one." Steve grinned, malicious and scheming.

You wanted to whine, groan, cry, and beg them not to all at once. You loathed the metal gag; any gag at all, really. The metal one, a small metal circle on a leather strap, always hurt your mouth, stretching your mouth open uncomfortably and leaving you drooling. Not to mention the boys would purposely ask you questions so you'd wobble around your words, trying to form sentences with the uncomfortable intrusion, just so they could smack you and tell you to speak up.

"Hm, good idea, Stevie." Eddie grinned proudly back at him. His little apprentice, learning so quickly. "If you can't tell the truth, then you don't need to say anything at all, isn't that right?"

You bit back a pout, teething grinding while you stayed looking forward. Steve's backhand yanked you out of your daze, startling you out of your trance. It wasn't hard so much as shocking, but it had you quivering between your thighs.

"Did Eddie ask you a question?" Steve barked, hand gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks lightly while you faced him.

"Yes, sir." You took a deep breath, grounding yourself, keeping your cry in. You couldn't cry this early on, not giving them the satisfaction of that.

"Just go ahead and gag her, Eddie. She doesn't want to talk anyways." Steve scoffed, shaking his head down in disappointment at you. Your lip quivered. "She doesn't want to be a good girl."

"I do!" You whined, head snapping over towards Steve. He raised his brows, amused by your sudden whining, finally playing into your bratty side- the side he loved so much.

"I am being good! I'm not supposed to talk when you're punishing me." You huffed, reciting the rules they gave you months ago, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The pout was enough, you were teetering into dangerous territory and you knew that.

"Oh?" Eddie's voice quipped, playful nearly. "You're a good girl?"

You deflated under his squinted stare, challenging. You knew he'd admonish you for the midterm, but that wasn't fair. You decided you'd let him know that. "'M being good right now." You mumbled, eyes flickering towards your knees.

"Yeah, when you want to be good." Eddie scoffed. "And you're supposed to be good all the time. Not just when you want."

You blushed deep with embarrassment, heat rising from your core to your cheeks. You were sure the boys could see your embarrassment flushing your body, exposed and vulnerable in front of them. You knew they loved it, you could tell by the bulge in Steve's sweatpants that he hadn't done anything to hide. Your mouth watered at the thought, wanting more than anything to have your cheeks hollowed around him again.

"Get the gag." Steve nodded down towards you. You huffed but didn't dare whine.

Your posture was slouched, pouting and sulking at the unfairness of it all. These two hypocrites, they didn't even go to college and they were so strict with you about your own school work. They didn't know how draining and time consuming it was.

"Straighten up. Stop all that fuckin' whining, or I'll really give you a reason to." Eddie snapped at you. You blew a short breath out your nose, lifting your spine.

Eddie watched you down the slope of his nose, eyes hard and challenging. Your tummy flipped at the sight. He crouched down in front of you, free hand grabbing your chin, turning you to face him, examining your features.

"Color." Eddie demanded, voice still stern but eyes softening to read your expression.

"Green." Your voice had an edge to it, biting and a little mean, eyes avoiding his. Eddie gripped your chin, pulling you to meet his face. His brows lifted in question, serious. For all his meanness and strictness, he was even more strict about the check ins and safe words.

You met his eyes, huffing just a little. "Green, Eddie, 'm fine." You insisted.

"You sure?" Eddie asked in a low voice, grip loosening on your chin. "Let me know now before we start."

"I'm fine, promise." You gave him a small smile.

"And if you're not?"

"I'll say black for hard stop, yellow to ease up, and squeeze three times if I need to stop." You droned the reciting back at him. You knew it made him feel better, knowing that you knew how to stop if you needed to. As confident as he was, he always worried about taking it to far with you, especially with punishments.

Eddie gave you a tiny grin, pecking your cheek sweetly. "Good girl." You beamed at the praise, the corners of your mouth flicking up just barely.

"See, knew you could be a good girl when you want." Eddie's salacious grin was back, a little taunting and mean. "Gotta teach you to be good all the time."

You saw him reach for his back pocket, eyes widening in anticipation. You knew the dreaded gag was in there, stretching your cheeks slightly in preparation for the discomfort that was coming.

"Open, wide." Eddie snapped.

You unhinged your jaw, mouth presented wide for him. He presented you with the gag, but not the metal one. To your surprise, he held the one with the red, rubber ball in the mouth piece instead. Your heart skipped in relief, letting the rubber settle between your teeth while Eddie fastened the strap around your head.

"Ah, Ed, are you going soft on us?" Steve teased with a snicker.

"Shut up, Harrington." Eddie snarled. "I figured for what she has coming, the rubber would be better. Don't want her breaking those pretty teeth out when she bites down."

Ice ran through your veins, a cold chill that made your shoulders shiver at the thought. You thought maybe they might go easy on you, you were wrong.

"Ah, good call." Steve nodded slowly. "Daddy's a lot nicer than me isn't he, baby?"

You gave a short nod, trying to swallow around the gag already, drool pooling inside your mouth.

"Aw, wasn't that sweet?" Steve sneered, taunting you. He crouched down beside you. "I wonder if you'll still think that in a little bit, baby." His hand was in your hair, pulling you up to stand, before dragging you harshly over the edge of the bed.

You landed with an oomph! bent over the bed, shuffling to spread your legs. Eddie bit back a remark of praise, eyes cutting to Steve. "Where do those hands go?" Steve barked.

You quickly extended them out in front of you, back elongating into a long stretch, ass presented high and legs spread. A vision of submission on their bed, Eddie and Steve wanted to bust right there at the sight.

"Harrington," Eddie called in a sing-song voice, playful and excited. Your eyes squeezed shut. "Do you want the honors first?"

"Oh no, Eddie, I insist." Steve responded just as playfully, he sat on the bed in front of you, taking your wrists into his hands, pinning them tight.

It was comfier than the ropes or cuffs, but more embarrassing this way. Now Steve would watch you, command your eyes on him while Eddie punished you, reveling in every sob and cry. His favorite show.

"What did you pick, Ed?" Steve asked, eyes lighting up at the reveal behind you. You didn't dare look back, eyes on Steve's face. "Oh, Daddy's really mad at you. You bad, bad girl."

You whined behind the gag, desperately. You knew you'd fucked up with the assignments, but you didn't think they'd be this mad with you.

"You know I don't like liars, Stevie." Eddie snipped. Then you felt it, the cool leather behind you, rubbing on the naked skin of your ass and thighs.

You wanted to groan, whine and stomp your feet in protest. He went with the paddle, of course he went with the paddle. It was worse than the belt, heavier and covered a bigger area, sure to leave you covered in welts and tender for days to come.

"Oh, I know you don't." Steve grinned, eyes cutting down at you. His grip on your wrist tightened, seeing your wide, rounded eyes shining up at him, gag lodged in your pretty mouth. His cock lurched at the sight.

"I don't like it when my little, good girl," Eddie brought the paddle down unexpectedly, no warning or warm up, just a resounding crack that echoed off the walls. You lurched forward, a muffled gasp behind the gag. "Acts so bad." Eddie swung his arms back, paddle connecting with the meat of your ass.

Your hips jumped at the impact, a blossoming pink that slowly faded into red with each hit. You were bouncing, dancing from foot to foot with each slow hit.

"You lied to me and Steve about your school work," Eddie grunted, hitting where your cheeks met your thighs. You howled behind the gag, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Steve gripped your hands tightly, watching you closely. "Eyes on me." Steve snapped. You lifted your gaze, bleary through tears to meet his.

"You've ruined your grade," Eddie continued, two hard successions of the paddle, each covering each cheek in a stinging, sharp hit that had you crying.

"You disrespect me and Steve," You sobbed, snot and tears leaking down your cheeks, pooling to meet the drool that dripped out of your mouth and gathered at your chin.

"And worse of all," Eddie brought the paddle down hard, leaving you screeching, back arching and wrists tugging at Steve's hands to recoil in a deep child's pose, a submissive, defensive stance. Steve's grip tightened, and you were sure there would be bruises.

"You disrespected yourself." Eddie snapped, the paddle came down hard again. It hurt, stung, made you sob and ache, but somehow, Eddie's words- his disappointed tone, hurt and sad, hurt you worse.

You sobbed hard, shoulders shaking and posture slouching, caving into yourself. Steve felt your wrists fall limp in his hands, face buried into the mattress. He loosened his grip, looking up at Eddie carefully. Eddie rolled the paddle over in his hands, watching you carefully. Steve could tell he was contemplating finishing out, neither one of them expected you to break this early.

"I'm not going to have you hurt yourself like this." Eddie continued after a moment, bringing the paddle back down against your red cheeks, softer this time. You still jumped, sobbing into the duvet. "You do your school work and your assignments. You know you're supposed to."

"'M sowry." You blubbered through the gag, drool spilling out with the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Speak up." Eddie snapped, his hand cracking down on your hot flesh. "Get your head up."

You lifted your face out of the mattress, eyes meeting Steve's through your wet vision. "'M s-sorry." You tried again, the gag making it awkward and muffled.

Steve cooed down at you, wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb. "Aw, c'mon, Ed," He tutted down at you. "She's sorry, aren't you?"

You nodded fiercely, before resting your cheek back onto the mattress, looking over your shoulder back at Eddie. He stood, arms crossed over his chest with his paddle still in hand, staring down at you. You clenched around nothing. Fuck, he looked so good when he was angry, so mean and controlling; such a contrast to his normal light hearted, sweet personality.

Eddie hummed, hand lightly skating over your hot flesh, squeezing the fat of your reddened cheeks gently. "You gonna do your school work?" He asked. You nodded fiercely. "You gonna lie to me or Steve again?" Your head bobbed.

"Good." Eddie nodded. You felt his fingers move lower, swiping between your legs. You whined, wiggling back onto his fingers desperately for friction. Eddie smirked, looking up at Steve. "Good girl." He cooed.

"You are so good aren't you?" Steve mumbled to you. He let go of your hands, placing them on either side of your face sweetly, pulling you closer to him. His nose nearly touched yours, grinning at you, ruined and desperate between his hands. "So good when you want to be. So sweet, too."

Eddie hummed, pulling his fingers out of you and into his mouth, eyes closing and groaning loud, the tangy taste of your spend on his fingers. "Mmm, so good. Fuck." Eddie's eyes zoned in on your pussy, needy and wet.

It took every ounce of restraint he had not to dive into you, devour that beautiful pussy until you were screaming out for more. But he couldn't, not this time. He'd brought the pain, and it was Steve's turn to bring you pleasure; a reward for taking your punishment so well. Eddie couldn't deprive him of that.

Eddie's eyes met Steve's, nodding that they should switch places. Steve swung his legs off the bed, allowing you a moment to collapse, sniffle into the comfort of the duvet. Eddie caught your face before you could relax fully, kneeling on the mattress and cupping your jaw in one hand, free hand undoing your gag. He pulled the ball out of your mouth, the sting of drool attached from your mouth to the ball spilling and pooling on the mattress, wet matter mixing with your tears.

"How are you feeling?" Eddie asked, dark eyes scanning over your features, a silent check in. His grip was still on your jaw, fingers massaging your cheeks gently after the removal of the gag. Your heart swelled at the gesture.

"Good." You sniffled, eyes lifting up to him, rounded and watery. Eddie tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed sternly at you. You gave him a soft smile. "Still green."

"Look at you." Eddie cooed, a dimpled grin spreading over his features and warming you from the inside out. "My best girl, aren't you?"

Eddie was good like this. Good about making you feel better after your punishments, letting you know it's all still play. Sometimes it was easy to feel real about them, feel like that was their true feelings towards you. Steve was still learning to get out of that headspace, still a little unsure of when he let himself slowly fade. Sometimes, it was too early, interrupting the scene, others too far after. Thankfully, for the three of you, you had Eddie- the ever "seasoned veteran of kinky shit" as he liked to call himself.

"Fuck, baby," Steve groaned, harshly gripping your hot ass cheeks, pulling them apart. "You're drenched aren't you?"

You blushed, letting your face fall towards your arms, an attempt at hiding your embarrassment. Eddie caught your face easily, firm grip on your chin. "Did Steve not just ask you a question?" He tilted his head to the side in challenge.

"Yes, sir." You muttered, heat blooming down your neck from your cheeks, you knew your chest would be showing now.

"Not really a punishment if you enjoyed it, now is it, Princess?" Steve grinned.

You gasped before you could reply, his thick fingers pushing straight into your sopping hole, adding another and scissoring your walls, spreading them open gently. Your mouth water, hips writing against his fingers because you knew what that meant. He was opening you up, getting you ready so he could stuff you full of his cock.

"It was." You whined, bottom lip jutting out, eyes flitting up to Eddie. "I promise it was a good punishment. I learned my lesson, Daddy."

Eddie's face melted, eyes crinkling when he grinned at you. "Oh, honey," He cooed, leaning down so his nose brushed yours. You purred, nuzzling against him sweetly "You're not done yet."

Your heart dropped, face following with it, while Eddie rolled off the bed. Steve snickered behind you, amber eyes flashing with excitement, tracking Eddie's movements towards the bedside drawer.

"But I-"

"You didn't think you'd get off that easy, did you?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side, shaking his curls at you dumbly. Your face burned. "Steve, she really thought that was it?" He mocked you.

Steve's fingers were still working inside you, opening you up. "Surely, you're smarter than that." Steve snipped. "I mean, baby, c'mon, Ed would've at least used the cane if the spanking was it."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, bottom lip trembling. "At least." Eddie parroted with a smirk. He turned around and your heart skipped, seeing the bottle of lube in your hand. Fuck.

Eddie popped the cap open to the lube, slowly walking towards you. You looked over your shoulder, neck straining at the stretch. "I told you baby," Eddie said calmly. "That ass is mine tonight."

You gulped, hearing Steve's mocking chuckles, his fingers jamming deep inside you, making you gasp at the curl. You tried to focus on how he was making you feel, instead of Eddie's thick thumb that was circling your rear hole.

It wasn't that you didn't like anal, or didn't do it often; you were in a throuple for fucksake, of course anal came with the territory. You were use to the boys filling you up, if your mouth wasn't occupying one of their dicks, your ass was their choice. The issue was, it was always Steve. Steve wasn't small by any means, but less... girth than Eddie's cock and more gentle. Eddie had fucked you up the ass a total of four times, once to try, once for his birthday, and the other two as punishment. He always made sure you were lubed up, ready to take him so it didn't hurt- and it didn't really, besides the usual stretch, it just made you feel... uncomfortably full. When Eddie fucked your ass, he was in your guts, you were sure of it- you could feel it. It was a little invasive, overstimulating.

The cold shock of the lube dripping in a fat glob onto your tightest hole made you shiver, the sensation quickly replaced by Eddie's pointer finger, circling your hole, pressing inward just to the knuckle. You clenched, eyes screwing shut.

A sharp slap to your already stinging cheek pulled you away, leaving you gasping, turning back and pouting over your shoulder. Steve glared at you. "Relax. You know better." He warned, brow lifted carefully at you.

You took a shuddered, regulating breath, rocking back on your heels to try and relax into the touch. Your skin burned with every pull and knead of Eddie or Steve's hand on your inflamed cheeks, making you whimper, toes curling with sensation while Steve expertly punched that sensitive spot within you.

"Hm," Eddie groaned, fingers lazily pumping in and out of you. "Think you should get her good and relaxed, Stevie." Eddie nodded towards you. "Finish her off for me. Before we really get started."

You shuddered at the lingering threat in the air, a foreshadowing of what's to come. You were granted only a moment before Steve's tongue was on your cunt, lapping and suckling at your clit until you let out a strangled gasp. His tongue was quick, fluttering kitten licks to your clit while his fingers fucked you.

Your orgasm was close, fiery and fierce with a rapid approach that left you reeling, abs clenching and walls clamping around Steve's expert fingers before you gushed, flooding over his mouth and hand. He licked you up easily, smirking at every spasming aftershock that followed.

You were panting, gripping the sheets with a white knuckled vigor, chest rising and falling against the warmed cotton of the bed. Eddie grinned, arms crossed over his chest, half lidded eyes watching you with blown pupils.

"Good boy," Eddie grinned down at Steve. "Let me have a taste, fuck." Eddie moaned, leaning over to capture Steve's lips on his before he could wipe your juices off his mouth. Eddie was drunk on your taste, moaning into Steve's lips while their tongues swirled against each other, the tangy taste of you swapping between their lips.

You whimpered, craning your neck back to look over your shoulder, thighs clenching at the sight of the two men, kissing with a passionate fury. Eddie's eyes caught yours, breaking the kiss with a trail of saliva connecting off their lips. He looked down at you carefully, grinning salaciously, teeth bared.

"What do you think, Steve? Have her stand up or have her ride you? Your choice." Eddie offered with a slight nod of his head for you.

"Ooh," Steve laughed, eyebrows raising in delight. "Ya know, Ed, I just really think I want her to ride me." Steve's eyes narrowed in on you. "Because I know how much you love that, baby."

You bit back a huff accompanied with an eye roll that rivaled Steve's best. You didn't enjoy riding them, either one, especially when they double stuffed you like this. You always got weak kneed, legs shaking and struggling to keep up a good pace, almost always collapsing while they finished you out, cooing and mocking at you.

"I think that's a great idea." Eddie grinned, eyes never leaving yours with a wide eyed glare. "Go on then. Get ready to ride, baby."

That's how you found yourself, kneeled with your thighs on either side of Steve's hips, his hands on your waist, legs dangling off the edge of the bed while Eddie pumped himself between them. He watched as you bounced slowly, sinking further and further down onto Steve's cock, adjusting yourself there before he continued.

Eddie squirted the lube back on his fingers, smearing it over his angry cock. "You ready for me?" Eddie asked. You nodded slowly, eyes pinched in pleasure, nails sinking into Steve's shoulders with every slow drag of your hips up and down his cock.

"You remember your safe words?" Eddie asked again, brow lifting carefully. You nodded with a gentle whimper. "Lemme hear them." Eddie demanded, grinning when you repeated them back to him, voice high pitched and nasally; pathetic, how he loved it.

"Good girl." Eddie purred, shuffling closer. He took his free hand, letting it store down your spine gently. "Hold still for me for just a second, alright? Steve, hold her for me."

Steve's arms, thick and strong pulled around your waist, circling you and pressing a palm into the middle of your back, folding you forward so you were sunk against him, still wrapped around his cock but ass leaned forward and presented to Eddie. It had taken the three of you a while to perfect the position.

Eddie pumped himself, circling the rim of your open, tight hole before pushing the head in. You gasped, clenching and spine straightening at the sensation. Steve groaned, low and throaty at the feeling of your clamped walls strangling his cock, arms tightening around you to hold you close, keep you from wiggling while Eddie sunk himself in, slowly, hips rolling and inching closer and closer until you were full of him.

You could barely move, barely lift your hips to continue riding Steve while they double teamed you, too full of sensation and brain a hazy fog that overtook your senses.

"Fuck, what a good girl." Eddie hissed, hips stroking at a much gentler pace than he usually did against you, watching the lube and his own spend gather at the base of your tight hole. His mouth watered, pupils blown at the sight. "Isn't she a good girl?"

"Oh, the best." Steve huffed, breath strangled and trapped in his chest. You were slouched against him, drooling onto his shoulder, eyes glazed while his hips thrusted into yours. At this point, he and Eddie were practically tossing you back and forth with their thrusts, a bounce from one to the other like a teeter-totter.

"She's the best girl. She- oh, baby, right there- feels so, so good." Steve clenched his jaw, hissing at the way his cock was already twitching.

You mewled, shuddering with another wave of ecstasy release with every stoke of their cocks hitting your g-spots. It was overwhelming, leaving you shaking and breaths shuddering, head spinning at the feeling.

"Fuck, Ed, 'm close." Steve hissed, calves rising and flexing to thrust up into you.

"Me too." Eddie muttered, tongue poking out in concentration while he rocked his hips a little faster, a little harder, still holding back from riding you out like he normally did. He didn't want to hurt you.

Steve's hand left your waist, reaching out to join Eddie's on your hips, their thick hands intertwining to lace together while they chased their own highs, spilling into each of your holes with sputtered groans and gasps of air, singing your praises through shuddered breaths.

You were leaking both of them, letting it pool together beneath you on the sheets when they pulled out. Steve held you close, smattering your hair line with kisses and soothing words while Eddie wet a cloth.

"Such a good girl aren't you?" Steve cooed, nose rubbing into your sweaty hair line. "You took that so well, didn't you? You did. My best girl, look at you."

You whined, lightly gripping onto his chests. You felt underwater, removed and lightyears away from the two men in front of you, their doting kisses and sweet words lying over you like a soothing balm.

"She's gone." Steve muttered to Eddie, chest rumbling against your cheek.

"Go get her some water or gatorade." Eddie said, puddle brown eyes furrowed in concern when they looked at you. "Think that'll help. I'll clean her up."

Steve left you, propped on a pillow while you slowly blinked up at Eddie, his wild curls cascading down his face like a curtain over you, tickling your cheeks lightly. "Hi, sweet girl." Eddie cooed lightly. "You alright?"

You nodded vacantly, eyes looking past him and towards the ceiling, pupils blown. "You with me right now, sweetheart? Feel alright?" Eddie asked, brows creasing in concern.

"'M alright." You muttered, airy and breathy response.

Eddie's hand cupped your cheek, calloused thumb brushing over your tear stained cheek bone. "I'm gonna clean you up, ok, baby?" Eddie cooed. "Daddy's got ya, sweet girl. You just relax."

You shuddered, system shocking and screeching with alarm when the cold cloth brushed through your aching folds, swiping and cleaning you up gently. You whimpered loudly in protest, hips squirming away from the rag. Eddie's eyes flickered to yours, relief pulling at his tight chest when he saw your furrowed brow and pouting lips, some expression at least.

"'S alright, baby. I gotcha." Eddie cooed, free hand rubbing your thigh, while he cleaned you delicately.

Steve returned, lifting you up in his arms, pressing the plastic rim of the bottle to your lips, feeding it to you in slow slips. You let them baby you like that, more than content at their sweet, coddling ministrations. Your two mean men that could turn so easily from malicious to caring, for you.

You let them squeeze you between them, lying down on your tummy, hands under the pillow while their hands intertwined and rested on your lower back.

"You gonna do your assignments from now on?" Eddie asked, propped on his side to face you, free hand holding Steve's and the other resting under his head.

You nodded slowly, eyes pulling open before fluttering closed. "I will, Daddy." You muttered, sleepily. "Promise."

"You better." Steve chided, his thumb brushing down your spine, rubbing over your soft skin then Eddie's knuckles. "Or I'll use Daddy's cane on you every night for a week, understand?"

That was enough to get your eyes wretched open, wide eyed and timidly looking up at him. Steve glared at you, challenging and warning all wrapped up in those amber eyes, brow furrowed in a look that told you he was not playing. "I understand." You squeaked, shrinking under his glare.

"I'm sorry for lying." You shuddered, breath hitching in your throat, the swell of tears returning to your chest. "I-I'll talk to my professor about making up the work, and-and I'll make sure to bring home everything, and-"

Eddie shushed you gently, hand running down the locks of your hair, petting them soothingly. "Baby, it's alright. We're good for now." He said calmly. "Just relax. Let yourself rest, ok? I know you're tired."

You sunk back into the pillow slowly, eyes fluttering back shut, succumbing to the overwhelming tiredness that was racking your body. You felt the boys kiss you, pillowy lips on either side of your face muttering gentle words before leaning over you, kissing each other in a wet smooch that had you grinning softly. It was just the three of you for now, in your own little oasis. Two men and their little (sometimes bad, most of the time good) girl.

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holyghostbelle · 4 months

Text

Call the shots

dark!Oliver quick x fem!reader

TW:DUBCON? DARK!OLIVER(it's literally him though so idk)slight reader x felix, but also oliver pinning over felix because no ones mentioning that??? ed mention reader and Oliver lowkey hate each other I guess. ( eventual smut) minors dni or ill sleep with your dad requests are open !!

read the next part here

my master list

He’s alluring,he pulls you apart with his teeth, sucking out your blood,he's messy. Loud and brash, but sometimes he's just Oliver, who's begging to pick you apart and get under your skin.

You sit. Still, stoic and smoking, Oliver can't read your face. He hates it. Flattery doesn't get you. You're not jealous or insecure, your love falls as far as a piece of string for the love of your friends and the only addiction you face is nicotine. Easily overcome-able, because you only really smoke outside his window at night.

He really hates it, hes half naked and the moonlight reflects of the lake onto the bare chest of his body, your on the steps, large striped blue shirt and a pair of matching shorts, white socks just grazing the height of your calf, the big thick brown reading glasses that fall to the tip of your nose and you take another cancerous puff off your cigarette. He watches your lips part, the glossy shine catching the light of orange embers. You gaze up at him, through thick lashes, he hides into the shadows, but your eyes still find him. The curtains close.

He needs to get rid of you, he swears he will.

You sit under the scorching embrace of the summer sun, finding solace by the poolside in the English heat, Clad in a short white sundress shielding your eyes with oversized sunglasses, you turn the page of your book,spine bent into itself. Oliver collapses into a chair next to you, grinning lopsidedly.

“What are you reading?

“Perfume”

“Enchanting, has he started killing people yet?”

“No” you answer monatonly.

“Oh” his eyes examine you, a lingering curiosity.

You stand quickly, chucking your book into the chair. Hands reaching at the see through dress, you reveal a red gingham swimsuit. Your head cocks to the side, eyes bearing into his, you don't smile, there's a pause, your eyes squint at him wandering up and down his body, and you walk backwards before turning and diving into the pool. You don't come up for a minute and Oliver begins to think you've started to drown after seconds go by.

Venetia smiles against her cigarette in the lounge chair, she's reading vogue, eyes grazing against the small fragile bodies of the models.

“She does that, she'll come up in a minute, she's not dead.”

“She's very blunt, is she always like that?”

“She tells it straight,” Venetia says.

Oliver stares at the pool, bubbles erupting out the water as you come up. You push your hair out the way of your eyes and glance up at him, black mascara running down your face.

You think he's so small.

You sit on the weather stone steps, wrapped up in a silk nightgown and loose pink cardigan that slumps over your shoulder, red lipped. The crickets chirped rhythmically against the summer buzzing. There's a quiet anticipation in the air, a thickening tension. Your eyes linger on the window of his. A hand comes to view in the light, curtain being pulled closed Oliver waits for a moment, until a soft whisper slips through the opened window, and a giggle. And it's evident that you're not alone anymore. As two pairs of footsteps clatter against the stone steps.

“Why don't you like him?” It's Felix’ voice, soft and calming, interrupting the night's silence.

“i think he's obsessive, he's obsessed with you” you respond

Felix laughs as Oliver pauses to shift the curtains, taking a peep at the pair under his window. He thinks you've pushed yourself against the wall, your leg peeking out from the silk gown, he hears a lighter and smells the cigarette you've lit. Felix is pushed against your body, he's not sure what part of your body is really you.

“No he’s not”

You twist your body around, leaning against the steps.

“You always chose the weird ones, who was the last one, Sam?”

“Eddie”

“Oh! Eddie, i remember when he got so drunk he puked all over that painting in the red room and your mum made him pay to get it cleaned after him and well you know”

“So gross, he used to steal your cigarette butts with the lipstick stained on them. The housekeeper found them littered under his bed for weeks after he left.”

“Always the weird ones, little freaks.” you whisper, and then you chuckle and he swears it's the first time he's seen you really smile. It's almost angelic when you breathe in your cigarette. The smoke surrounds your face before it disperses.

Felix grins, and suddenly he's pulling you in for a kiss, arms wrapping around your waist, but you push him away.

“Not tonight felix, girls night with Venetia, told her i wouldnt fuck you anymore as-well, i really promised this time”

“You always say that” Felix grins, arms pulling you in for a hug as he turns his back on Oliver's window. Your eyes gaze up at him,the light catching on his blue eyes as you quickly pull apart from felix.

“Are you sure he's asleep?” you question.

“Yeah,why?”

“Something just moved” you point at the movement of the curtains as Oliver shifts backwards keeping his ear close to the window.

You don't see Felix for another couple of nights, you don't wait outside Oliver's window.

Farleighs gone.

And then,

suddenly.

Felix Catton is dead.

And the only person who's kept some semblance of sanity at Saltburn is Oliver, who everyone clings onto. He's the gift who keeps giving.

A day before the funeral, you wait outside Oliver's window again, you're wearing Felix's blue Ralph Lauren jumper, arms way too big for your own as the sleeves fall off your fingers, they slip back down after you pull them up your arms and you eventually give up, your face is wet, the scent of felix lingers.

Oliver pulls on a blue shirt, stepping into trainers before making his way down.

He joins you for the first time, there's three cigarettes laid out on the stone steps and a white lighter is clutched into your hands.

“There's one for you Oliver” you don't turn around to face him, but he can feel the grimace, through your face.

“We’ve never really spoken have we?” Oliver questions.

“I dont think ive ever liked you, that's why.”

“So why now?” he mirrors the way you're sitting.

“Because of Felix '' you whimper, you catch your face in your hands, sniffling you bring your face up to meet him. Eyes finally meeting without anything between them.

“I loved him, I think, I think I loved him and i'll never get to tell him that” you splutter.

“Everyone did”

You squint at him “But not like you did, right?”

“Sorry?” Oliver looks confused, eyebrows raised.

You grin at him, eyes not smiling back, wiping the tears from your wet hot cheeks, you puff your chest out.

“I saw the way you looked at him, you were obsessed, Are you gay Oliver? No? heard you slept with Farleigh, and nearly Venetia.” you chuckle “it's just so sad, your just so sad”

You pout at him. His eyes change, they look through you instead of at you.

“You're not really shy are you? I thought you were so insipid at first, like a poor child, I almost felt sorry for you, gosh I was so stupid” your head cocks to the side and Oliver's eyes darken.

“But my oh’ my, you so confident arent you, I mean come on, I saw the way Venetia reacted after that night and-” you ponder, “ Well, she actually ate that day , didn't she?it's not like you begged her to either, and now she cant stand you, Felix! well? he’ll hate you forever.” you nod at him, it's almost sincere.

“You play games really well, Oliver, but not me. Never me. Because as much as you pushed I just didn't budge. Couldn't Flatter me Couldnt fuck me.”

You smile at him, your teeth drag your lips into your mouth and they make a popping sound as they return. You blink at him.

“Couldnt fuck him either though could you?” you snicker at him.

Olivers quiet, he doesn't blink, a silhouette of stillness. He thinks. It's calculated.

You go into pat his face before standing but you're stilled, a fierce grip bruises your arm. You stare into his eyes through your lashes.

“You dont scare me” your wrist is still enveloped in his hand.

“No, I do something worse, don't i?” he pulls your arm down trapping you into the stone steps, you wiggle against his grip. He approaches your face.

“I do, don't i? And you hate it, hate the way i make you feel”

You shake your head at him, “your-such-a-freak” your voice drips with venom and olivers lips pursed together, his teeth are grinding, and his grip isnt letting up as it tightens, your wrist is pulsing, its white hot pain that thumps against your chest and you want to scream at him but you can't, your eyes widen and he's pulling you in for a kiss his hand against your head, your eyes don't close, you hand shoves hard against his chest, once and then twice and when he finally pulls away, your face is red with anger.

“You fucking twat” you spit at him.

"You think you can control everything, don't you?" you seethe, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I hope you rot "

Oliver's smirk widens into a malevolent grin. "Hope all you want, baby ,you'll come crawling to me in the end”

You spin on your heel, not looking back as you return to your bedroom. The door slamming shut behind you, you collapse on to your bed, the smell of felix still present on his knit jumper. Thighs rubbing together, you taste the bitter aftermath of Oliver on your tongue, something stirs in your stomach,unshakeable it's dark and brewing inside you.

Felix’s absence is heavy in the air but Oliver begins to loom over you.

Read (PART TWO)

#saltburn 2023 #salt burn 2023 #salt burn fic #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick #Felix caton x reader #barry keoghan #Barry Keoghan x reader

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eddies-ashtray · 10 months

Text

Getting ready for bed with Eddie <3

(CW: Could be read as gn reader, but Eddie calls reader 'princess' once). |1.1k|

♡*♡*♡

The bathroom is bathed in soft yellow light, slightly muted behind the chipped white sconces. From down the hall you can hear the faint clink of mugs and plates being placed in the sink by Eddie.

It’s half past 11 and you’re in your sleep shorts and a faded t-shirt as you brush your teeth. You’re about halfway done when Eddie enters the space, sliding in behind you with a gentle hand on your hip.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie purrs, placing a delicate kiss to your neck, just by your pulse point. You lean into him as he does so. Despite the fact that you’ve spent all day together and he just saw you less than five minutes ago, his greeting isn’t odd to you.

Eddie grabs his toothbrush from the cup beside the sink and squeezes a glob of bright green toothpaste onto the bristles.

You spit toothpaste in the sink before replying sweetly, “Hi, baby.”

When you straighten up again, Eddie bumps his hip gently against yours. You bump his right back. A foamy, close-lipped smile graces his lips around the toothbrush in his mouth and you poke the shallow dimple that pops into his cheek as a result. The divot remains for a few extra seconds in response.

Faintly, you can make out the chirping of crickets in the overgrown grass outside and the hum of cicadas in the trees, a summer symphony.

It’s simple moments like this that the novel domesticity of living with Eddie strikes you. You love brushing your teeth together, grocery shopping in the evenings, and cooking dinner with him (even if it is just microwave noodles or frozen pizza). As long as it’s with him.

You love the simplicity of it. That’s how you know you’re happy with Eddie; when there’s not a single thing you could do together that would bore you. He makes everything better, easier even.

Since Wayne works nights, you and Eddie get the trailer to yourselves most evenings. You like to imagine you’re living somewhere in the city, that this is your shared apartment.

You hope you get that with him someday. But for now, the trailer is just fine. You could be anywhere with Eddie and it would be just fine.

Grabbing your book from the side table, you slip into bed while Eddie finishes up in the bathroom. You won’t sink beneath the sheets and get all comfortable and cozy until he joins you.

You barely finish more than a page before Eddie dives into bed with you. And you mean that literally.

When Eddie enters the room, he has a running start of about three paces before diving on top of the duvet, landing on your legs which stretch out beneath the worn fabric. The bed jolts with the action and so do you. As a result, your book falls into your lap.

Eddie looks up at you from where he lays on his belly across your legs, propping his chin up against his hand innocently. He bats his long lashes at you like he hasn’t just caused the entire trailer to shake.

“Are you trying to break the bed?” You ask through giggles.

“No. But we can try,” Eddie remarks, winking and wiggling his eyebrows.

You scrunch your nose up in faux distaste. “You know, I don’t think I’m up for it now that you’ve broken both of my legs.”

Eddie laughs softly, eyes crinkling in the corners. And though it’s just a joke, he still apologizes.

“Sorry,” He says softly, still giggling lightly, before leaning down and placing a sweet kiss to your now exposed hip. He had forced the covers down a few inches with his landing. You push his hair back from his face in response, tucking curly strands gently behind his ears.

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, just calmly entering a room and not jumping on innocent, unsuspecting people?”

Eddie looks at you like you have two heads. “Where’s the fun or flare in that?” And then awkwardly rolls over off your legs and onto his side of the bed. You scoff at his silliness, fingertips pressing against your forehead as you giggle at him.

He readjusts, pushing himself up and back so he’s sat next to you where your back is pressed up against the wall behind his bed.

Once he’s settled, you look over at him, and you’re hit with this feeling in your chest that grows and spreads. It takes you over; how much you love him.

So you lean over and you kiss his cheek, and after you do and he looks at you, he must see it in your eyes and understand. He must recognize it in himself because his eyes soften in the low lamplight of the room and he leans in again and kisses you properly. His lips are soft and taste vaguely of your strawberry chapstick.

When he pulls back slowly, you notice the light smudge of white on his skin and thumb at the small bit of dried toothpaste across his chin. The unshaven stubble there scrapes lightly against the pad of your thumb as you do so. Usually, he shaves every other evening, but he’s neglected his razor for the last bunch of days.

“Hm,” You hum, eyes tracing a path across the scruff lining his jaw.

“What?” He wonders softly.

“You haven’t shaved,” You reply mildly, hand cupping his jaw and very lightly scratching his cheeks, which are dotted with stubble.

Instantly, Eddie suggests, “I could shave it right now if you wanted.”

You smile softly, huffing a soft laugh through your nose at his eagerness to do what pleases you. He even starts to get up from the bed before you stop him.

“Nuh-uh, you’re already in bed,” You say, not wanting him to leave. “And besides, I like it.”

Eddie smiles softly at that, grazing your cheek lovingly with the back of his index finger.

Then he settles down a bit, lays his head on your shoulder, and you rest yours against the top of his head.

The pair of you sit there for a short time, you reading your book and Eddie watching you read while fiddling with the fingers on your free hand.

After, you pull the duvet up to your chins and pull each other close. And you fall asleep just like that, wrapped up in each other just as much as you’re wrapped up in the covers.

There’s a certain ineffable safety that comes with falling asleep in someone’s arms. In Eddie’s, specifically. You always sleep well when you're next to him.

♡*♡*♡

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog!

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x fem reader #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n

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moonstruckme · 1 day

Note

can we get sleepy reader x sleepy remus where they just the most perfect night routine designed for sleep

Can I get a nighttime routine with sleepy remus is the real question (pleasepleaseplease)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 613 words

Remus likes to keep the thermostat low at night, so you’re burrowed under your thick comforter, lying on your stomach with one of your legs stuck out awkwardly to touch his. Your boyfriend is sitting up half out of the covers (you don’t know how he can stand it) and sipping chamomile tea while he reads.

Ordinarily you’d be reading too, but you’ve fallen into a stint of obsession with sudoku. The light from your candle warmer casts an orange glow over your notebook, your bedroom pleasantly saturated with the smell of bergamot and caramel. You’re partway through your sixth box of the nine, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to finish tonight, though you’re loath to leave a puzzle half done.

It’s the fault of the warmth emanating from Remus underneath the covers, and the light sound of pages flipping, and the pleasant ache in your muscles from the stretches you make him do every night even though you don’t love having to get up and do them either. It’s the softness of your sheets, and the chirping of crickets outside your window, and worst of all the unbelievable plumpness of the pillow squished underneath your elbows, where it’d be so easy to drop your forehead down to rest above your notebook for only a minute…

“You’re getting tired.” Remus sounds amused.

You turn your head, and he looks it too, his eyes honey-gold in the warm light. There’s a soft curve to one side of his mouth.

“I thought nothing could distract you from your reading,” you accuse.

“You can.” He folds the corner of his page, closing the book. His mug clinks as he sets it on the nightstand, empty. “Ready to turn the lights off?”

“I haven’t finished the puzzle,” you argue.

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” He puts his book next to his mug.

“And you’re not at the end of a chapter,” you say as he takes the pen from your hand and the notebook out from under you, piling them neatly on top of his book on the nightstand.

“Silly as it may sound, the same principle applies to book chapters as sudoku puzzles.”

You can’t find it in you to argue further, humming your acquiescence as you turn onto your side and cozy up to him. Remus smiles and slides down beside you underneath the covers. He lets you worm your fingers under his ribs, touching the tip of his warm nose to your cold one.

“One of us still needs to turn off the candle lamp,” he whispers.

You groan. Resignation finds its way into your boyfriend’s expression even before you make yours as pleading as can be, eyes big and pitiful.

“Can you do it?” you ask sweetly.

Remus sighs as he gets out of bed, and you press your lips together to quell a smile. A few seconds later, the candle warmer’s light clicks off and he’s slinking back in beside you, long limbs still warm.

“Thanks, handsome.” You take one of his hands in yours, kissing it and pulling it with you as you roll over and snuggle your back to his front.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, a smile in his tone. He slides his other arm underneath you. The room is nearly pitch black, only some silvery-blue moonlight bleeding in from the window along with the cricket sounds, and Remus’ cinnamony scent blurs together with the ones from your candle.

“Night,” you sigh, already half gone. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Remus’ voice sounds considerably softer now. He lays a soft kiss on the back of your head, palm splaying flat over your chest. “Night, darling.”

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vanteguccir · 3 days

Text

You belong with me | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N and Matt love each other, but don't seem to have the courage to declare themselves; OR, where Matt belongs to Y/N but can't seem to understand it.

Warning: Crying, unrequited love, angst (with a happy ending).

Requested?: Yes, by @freshsturns

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was a typical fall morning in Boston, with golden leaves dancing in the wind and the fresh scent of coffee wafting through the air. Y/N walked down the familiar street, her steps synchronized with the rapid beat of her heart, her mind full of possibilities of how to break the news; she would spend three months at her father's house, as her mother needed to travel for work continuously during that short period.

Her eyes fell on the Sturniolo's house, where the triplets, Matt, Nick, and Chris, had lived since they were teenagers.

A mixture of feelings invaded her whenever she passed by.

She and the triplets have been inseparable since childhood. They grew up together, shared secrets, laughs, and unforgettable moments. But there was something deeper between Y/N and Matt, something she held deep in her heart and feared revealing.

Matt was the middle brother out of the three, with his dark hair and piercing dead blue eyes that seemed to read her soul. He was Y/N's confidant, the one with whom she shared her most intimate dreams and her deepest fears. But there was a secret she never dared to confess: her love for him.

As Y/N walked towards the Sturniolo's house, she felt her heart beating wildly. She knew she would see Matt soon, and that thought made her nervous and excited at the same time. They saw each other every day, but each meeting was like a new chapter in an endless book.

Upon entering the cozy home, Y/N was greeted with warm smiles and affectionate hugs from Jimmy and Mary Lou. Matt, with his captivating gaze and worn-out jeans, stared at her eyes for a brief moment. A shiver ran down Y/N's spine, but she quickly looked away, fearing he might read her feelings in her gaze.

Throughout that day, Y/N and Matt shared conversations like they always did while spending time together, lost in their own bubble of happiness. The sound of their laughter echoed through the cold streets, filling the air with a contagious energy, enjoying the last minutes together before the girl had to go far away.

Matt's hair was messed up by the wind, attracting her attention, who glanced at him, lost in her thoughts. She wondered if he could hear her frantic heartbeat every time he smiled when his hair got in his mouth.

But there was a palpable tension between the two, an invisible elephant in the room that neither dared to address.

At night, when Y/N finally returned home, she sat on her bed and let the tears fall silently while preparing herself to pack her bags. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to confess her feelings to Matt or if she would continue hiding them forever.

Meanwhile, across the street, Matt was lying in his own bed, lost in thoughts about Y/N. He wondered if she could ever feel the same way about him. If she could look at him with the same love-filled eyes that he always cast her way. But the fear of ruining their friendship prevented him from taking any action.

Thus, the two friends remained trapped in a painful impasse, their hearts connected by invisible strings that neither of them dared to break.

Y/N hoped that the next three months would do something good for her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Time had passed too fast, and soon, Y/N was back in Boston. The sun shone high in the summer sky as the girl left her house that morning, leaving her unopened suitcase to organize later, the birds chirped happily along with the frantic beats of her heart, yearning to see her best friends again.

For some reason, she knew something was different, that something had changed, but she wasn't prepared for what she would find when she met with him that afternoon.

Upon arriving at the brothers' house, Y/N was greeted by a strange silence, even with the cheerful voice of Mary Lou - who greeted her happily at the front door.

Y/N quickly found Matt sitting on the couch, next to a blonde girl, with long straight hair and an artificial smile on her lips. She was the complete opposite of Y/N in every possible way.

She felt a pang of discomfort when she saw Matt so close to that girl, her heart clenching when she noticed the brunette's arm around her shoulders, knowing the inevitable; Matt had met his perfect - or not - match.

She tried to push those feelings away and tried to convince herself that she was happy for him, but the truth was that a wave of sadness washed over her and found home in her heart.

Matt's new girlfriend, who introduced herself as Tiffany, looked at Y/N with a look of superiority, as if she was sizing her up and down. She emanated an aura of arrogance and pretension that made Y/N feel out of place and inadequate almost instantly.

Her slender and tall body was shaped by a mini skirt and a tank top that hugged her tiny waist perfectly, her feet covered in sparkling high heels - too much for a normal day in Boston -, Y/N feeling suddenly uncomfortable about the large t-shirt that covered her entire upper body.

As she watched Matt and Tiffany together, Y/N felt a tumultuous mix of emotions. The sounds of the video game coming from the television and Nick and Chris' excited screams echoing muffledly into her ears as she noticed how Matt hadn't looked directly at her eyes, not even once.

She wondered if he had really forgotten her so easily, if their friendship no longer meant anything to him. She felt betrayed and abandoned, as if a piece of her heart had been ripped out without warning.

As the day progressed, Y/N tried to keep herself occupied with the other two brothers, trying to push away the painful thoughts that threatened to consume her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the vision of Matt and Tiffany together, acting like they were the perfect couple.

She was so different from what Y/N imagined Matt's type to be.

When it was finally time to go home, Y/N said goodbye to Matt with a forced smile on her lips. She tried to hide the pain in her eyes, trying to appear indifferent to the fact that he had found someone new. But deep down, she knew that it had changed everything between them both, and nothing would ever be the same as it was.

As she walked home, Y/N felt tears streaming down her face. She felt lost and confused, not knowing how to deal with the new reality that was opening up before her.

She wondered if Matt would ever see that she was the right girl for him, that he belonged with her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was buzzing with the sound of excited voices and cutlery clattering against plates. Matt, Y/N, Nick, and Chris were sitting at a table in the corner, enjoying a quiet lunch together after weeks of not hanging out as a group.

"Matt, can we talk?" Y/N began as she noticed Chris and Nick immersed in a random topic. Her voice was soft but filled with concern, her eyes trying to decipher the storm of emotions that seemed to cross the brunette's face.

"Of course, Y/N. What do you want to talk about?" Matt nodded, his gaze meeting hers momentarily, before lowering it back to his plate, a fake smile resting on his face.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express what she was feeling.

"I couldn't help but notice how things have changed between us lately. Ever since you started... dating Tiffany, it seems like we're more distant."

"I know, Y/N. I'm sorry that I've been distant. It's just... Tiffany is complicated. She's very different from... Well, it doesn't matter." Matt spoke in a low tone, looking embarrassed as his hands nervously played with the metal cutlery.

Before Y/N could respond, Matt's phone started ringing, interrupting the conversation, and catching the attention of Nick and Chris, who stopped what they were saying and looked at them with interest. Matt huffed out an apology before looking at his cell screen, frowning as he read Tiffany's flashing name.

"Sorry, Y/N. I really need to take this." Matt said, quickly getting up from the table and taking a few steps away to answer the call, ignoring the worried looks his brothers were sending him.

Y/N watched as Matt spoke on the phone, his face tense and worried. She could hear Tiffany's muffled screams on the other end of the line, and a knot formed in her stomach as she realized the argument was about her, her name escaping the boy's lips more times than expected.

She could feel Nick and Chris's gazes burning into the side of her head, and she knew they wanted to say something, but her attention was too focused on Matt to try and get information out of the pair.

As the argument continued, Y/N observed in detail Matt's reactions, the lines of tension on his t the clenched fists at his side. She could feel the anguish he was experiencing.

When Matt finally hung up the phone, he returned to the table with a tired look in his eyes, his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip, as if he was in an internal struggle between what to do and what not to do. He looked at Y/N, as if he was about to say something, but then looked away, unable to find the words.

Y/N quickly reached out to touch his hand, a small show of silent support, a frown full of worry taking her expression.

"Matt, hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just..." Matt nodded, a weak smile playing on his lips, the same one that Y/N saw every day since he started dating Tiffany, but so different from the one that was directed to her three months before. "I just need to sort some things out with Tiffany." He cleared his throat quickly, tearing his eyes away from her and focusing them on his brothers. "Can you guys keep going without me? I really need to go."

"If I say no, it won't change what you think, so do whatever you want, Matt." Chris shrugged, his gaze rigid like never seen before by Y/N.

She tried to meet Nick's eyes, searching for some kind of explanation, but all she saw was sadness and worry.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Night was falling over Boston when Matt left Tiffany's house, his heart heavy and his mind turbulent. The rain, like a perfect background actor, fell in torrents, mixing with the tears that ran down his face as he walked aimlessly through the wet streets, having left his car in the hands of Chris - the one who knew most about driving after himself.

The boy allowed his feet to take him where they wanted to go, his vision blurred, and his mind too confused to decide anything at that moment, his heart screaming for refuge.

And that's how he found himself standing in front of Y/N's house, his safe haven in the midst of the storm that had been his life since he could remember.

With a heavy heart, the brunette walked to the side wall outside of the two-story house, his blue eyes only seeing the window that he already knew very well. Agilely, Matt quickly climbed the expanse of concrete, the lighting from the girl's room helping and guiding him.

The sound of light knocks against the closed glass echoed through the room, and it was and understandment to say that Y/N was surprised to see Matt outside her room, hanging from her window, drenched from the rain and with eyes red from crying.

The girl quickly shot up from her seat on her pretty made-up bed, running towards him and opening the window in seconds, her hands working on pulling him inside the cozy and warm room, wrapping him in a comforting hug, ignoring the feeling of his wet clothes against her dry and warm pajamas.

"Matt, what happened? Why are you here like this? What...?" Y/N asked frantically, worried. She pulled back a few inches, rubbing her left hand over Matt's cold arm, while her right worked on brushing away the soggy strands of hair that stuck to his forehead and cheeks.

"I broke up with Tiffany." His voice sounded choked and hoarse from crying, his lips trembling without a pause. "I finally realized how toxic she was being, and I couldn't go on like this anymore. I didn't-" A sob broke through his throat, his eyes closing tightly as his hands gripped Y/N's bent elbow, seeking some stability.

Y/N watched him with compassion, stroking the cold skin of his face gently with the tip of her right fingers. She felt like screaming from seeing him in such a state, her heart hurting as if someone was squeezing it with their bare hands.

She wondered how he couldn't see that she was the right one for him, not Tiffany. She knew all his favorite songs, the movies he loved, the places he dreamed of visiting. She was the only one who truly understood him, who knew his deepest dreams, fears, and hopes.

Over the years, Y/N has been by Matt's side through every important moment in his life. She watched him grow, face challenges, and overcome obstacles. She was the person he went to in the middle of the night when he needed someone to talk to, the voice that made him laugh when he was about to cry.

And yet, even with all this intimacy and deep connection, Matt didn't seem to realize what was right in front of him. He continued to seek love and validation elsewhere, ignoring the fact that Y/N was always there, waiting for him with an open heart.

And because of that, he got hurt. Again.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry. Come here, sweet boy." Y/N asked in a gentle whisper, guiding him to her bed in slow steps.

"N-no, I'm going to wet your whole bed." Matt muttered between sniffles, his right hand gripping her arm gently while his left one rubbed his eyes angrily, trying to stop the tears from continuing to flow.

"It's okay, I don't mind, honey." The girl insisted, helping him sit on the edge of the mattress next to her pillow while moving his hand away from his face, preventing him from hurting himself. "Stay here, I'll go get a towel. I think I still have some of your clothes too."

While Matt vented between sobs about his problematic relationship with Tiffany, Y/N listened attentively, moving around the room behind her hairdryer, clean towels and pieces of clothing that the brunette had left there when he visited her house.

She could feel the pain and anguish he was feeling, and she was determined to be there for him, no matter how much her heart burned to see him suffer for another girl.

The girl quickly found everything she needed, beginning the task of wiping Matt's wet, dark hair with the fluffy towel and wiping away the raindrops from his skin, her body standing stiffly between the boy's legs, being careful not to cross any barrier he had placed between the two of them.

As Matt spoke and Y/N advised him, she could feel his blue eyes fixed on her face, his hands too close to her legs as she finished drying him, feeling her cheeks burn like fire, knowing for sure that they were as red as the color itself.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you." Matt whispered, his tone low - as if he didn't want to burst the bubble that seemed to surround them - but still echoing throughout the room with force. "I only started dating Tiffany because... because I was trying to get you out of my mind."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her hands stopping their movements abruptly, the wet towel feeling heavy on her skin. The girl stared at the wall behind Matt for a few seconds, processing what he had said before finally looking at him, all the words caught in her throat as tears glistened in her eyes.

What?

"I know it was wrong, and I'm so sorry." Matt continued, his voice strained as his eyes seemed to search hers desperately. “But I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you. Because... because I love you, Y/N. Since the first day I met you, I have loved you. Every time I close my eyes, it's your face that I see. You're always in my thoughts, in my dreams, everywhere, and nothing I tried could make you disappear."

Y/N's heart raced in her chest a mile a minute as Matt's words echoed in her mind. An overwhelming mix of happiness and relief filling her veins at finally hearing the words she had waited for so many years.

"Matt, this is..." Y/N shook her head as an easy smile spread across her face automatically. "I love you too." She confessed, her voice almost a whisper, lowering her face, her eyes finally meeting his electrifying ones, feeling as if they were piercing her soul, which now, exposed, no longer had a barrier to hide her true feelings. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

I'm SO sorry if this ended up being a little rushed or too fast, I don't write series, and I tried to make everything happen in only one fic. I'm sorry if it didn't turn out how you'd like it ;(

My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

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norrizzandpia · 7 months

Note

I have one need and it is smut with Oscar so I was thinking something with Reader being lando's little sister and she's staying in Monaco with him but he has to go back to London for like 2 days which means she has the house all to herself and she invites Oscar over (who is her secret boyfriend) and they spend the night together (full of love and cuteness) but Lando comes home early and when he goes to her room to wake her up he finds her all cuddle up and cute with Oscar and he pretends he hasn't see anything because he just can't get over the fact that his little sister and teammate are together in that way

I LOVE THIS 👹👹👹👹👹👹

The Quiet Night and the Loud Morning (OP81)

Summary: It was bound to happen at some point.

Warnings: smut 🤭 CUTENESS OVERLOAD WITH BABY OSCAR 🤧🤧

Note: I JUST LOVE THIS IDEA

“Y/n?” Lando chirped from the other room.

“Yeah?” She answered, putting down the book she was reading to stare at the wall in concentration for his next words.

His footsteps filled the boring silence before he came into the living room, plopping down on the couch beside her, “I have to go to London for work for the weekend. I imagine you don’t want to come with because you just unpacked all of your stuff here, but, if you do, you can.”

She pondered the idea for a minute before Oscar’s smiling face was popping into her head and visions of an intimate weekend alone together flashed in her mind. At that, she looked up at her brother, feigning distaste, “No, I’m good. Thank you though.”

He nodded curtly as he got up from the couch, “Alrighty, no problem. I leave tonight, so I can be there tomorrow morning for the Saturday meeting. You’ll be okay alone here until Monday morning?”

Alone, her mind laughed, but her face told a different story, “Yeah. I’ll just watch a bunch of movies and live out my lazy life.”

Laughing, Lando retreated back to his room to pack, “No surprise there.”

—

“Osc!” Y/n yelped into her phone a few minutes after Lando’s car had left.

“Yes, baby?” He responded in his usual soft tone.

Her smile, though he couldn’t see it, made him smile as she said, “Lando had to go away for the weekend, so the house is completely empty. COME OVER!” She exclaimed, squealing loudly as she walked in circles around the kitchen island.

His laugh and rummaging of, what she could infer, was his bag and keys was what she was met with on the other side of the phone, “Okay, okay! I’m leaving as we speak. Should I bring a change of clothes?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “Mmm, yeah, I would. I don’t plan on having you leave until the very last moment.”

Wishing he was already there to kiss her, Oscar threw a pair of pajamas and a random outfit into a duffel, “Sounds like a great plan, my love.”

—

Opening the door, Y/n flung her arms around her boyfriend. He stumbled back, laughing and kissing her forehead lightly with his arm around her waist as he took in his favorite scent.

“I missed you,” She whispered into his neck whilst he dropped his bag down so he could fully envelope her in his warm embrace.

“I missed you too, Y/n,” He whispered back before walking them into the house, leaving her for only a moment to grab his bag and throw it through the threshold.

Once the door was closed and they were truly alone, the couple went back to their previous position. It had been weeks since they were able to see each other, that is alone. They had seen each other a few days before, but with engineers and Lando around, stolen glances and lingering stares were all they could take.

“What do you want to do first?” He asked her, pulling back to take in the beautiful face which he had only been able to visit in his dreams for the past time.

His adoring smile made her blush and the way his hands pushed back her hair made her fall in love with him even more, “Movie? Did you have dinner?”

He nodded slowly, “I did, yeah. Did you?”

She shrugged, “Yeah, sort of. Lando leaving meant that we didn’t end up getting dinner and it threw me off, so I just had a granola bar.”

His eyebrows shot up, “Alright, so first thing’s first. We get you some dinner.”

“Oscar,” She whined, “You don’t even know how to cook.”

He shot her a look over his shoulder as he traveled toward the kitchen, “I can make you boxed pasta, Y/n.”

“Are you sure?”

—

Forty minutes later and Oscar was pushing a bowl of buttered noodles with cut up tomatoes and sausage toward Y/n who was sat sluggishly at the counter.

“You’re positive this is edible?” She asked hesitantly, eyeing the bowl as if it had just threatened her life.

His nodding head came into view as he sat beside her, one hand on her back and the other laying on the island, “Yes, baby. I’ve made it so many times before. Just eat please.”

One last glance toward him and she was nodding, allowing the hunger she felt to motivate her actions. Her big smile at the first taste told Oscar he hadn’t actually fucked up the recipe he had tried to execute without a sheet of paper telling him what to do.

Their conversation flowed as it always did, with loving comments and suggestive jokes. Y/n fell all over again for Oscar’s smile and Oscar fell all over again for Y/n’s character.

After she ate the last noodle, she smiled at him as he picked up her dish whilst laying a kiss on her forehead. He washed the bowl and put it in the dishwasher without evening flinching, as if it was his own home. Y/n couldn’t help, but dream of a time when it was really his home. His and hers.

Nevertheless, her wishing halted when he turned around and leaned against the sink, “Now, movie?”

His question was answered with Y/n whirling around in her chair to hop off and run toward the living room. He chuckled before following her, finding his girlfriend already curled up in all the blankets on the couch and sifting through all the streaming platforms to find something for them to watch.

“How about Minions?” She laughed, clearly amused with the movie choice.

However, what she thought would be a disgusted veto from Oscar was a warm smile and nod.

She stared at him, “You actually want to watch Minions?”

He shrugged, “I’ll watch whatever you want to watch.”

—

An hour later and the two had around thirty minutes left of Minions. Their bodies connected, legs tangled with his hands firmly placed around her torso as he pulled her flesh against him. She wasn’t even watching the movie, too comfortable on Oscar’s chest to move her head. He seemed to notice, laying his head on top of hers as he murmured, “We can go to bed?”

She shook her head as she lifted it from her comfortable place on him, “No, it’s okay.”

He smiled at her, a lazy smile that she knew was only meant for her, “Okay, love.”

His hands guided her back down, however, this time, he laid fully on the couch, so she could lay her entire body on his. With his hands in her hair then trailing up and down her back, Y/n whispered, “Ever think about a time when we could just do this without having to hide?”

He glanced down at her, “Yeah, sometimes, but we decided keeping it a secret was the best thing.” After seeing her hesitation, he added, “Right?”

Her hands pushed against his chest as she sat up, her thighs on each side of him as her hair fell down toward him, “Yeah, but…” When she bit her lip in nerves, he started rubbing her thighs, “I love you, Osc. I want to be with you outside of a room.”

He tilted his head on the pillow he laid against, a small smile evident on his features, “I love you too. Of course, I want to be with you in public too, but I always thought you were uncomfortable with it because of Lando.”

She nodded, “At first, yeah, but that was before I fell in love with you and realized I really saw you as the rest of my life. Honestly, I’m more uncomfortable being a secret with you than telling Lando.”

Oscar nodded eagerly, “Well, if that’s your perspective. I’m all in. I’ve always been all in with you. If you’re okay with telling everyone then let’s do it.”

Her face broke out into a grin, “Really?”

His nodding continued as he tucked her hair behind her ears and cupped her face, “Of course, baby.”

Whether it was Oscar who pulled her down first or Y/n leaning in on her own, the two never knew. All they knew was that their lips met and the realization that they were putting their entire beings into the hands of the other was evident. The thought made every touch and graze of hands gentler, softer. His hands lightly explored her hips before resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him as he slipped his tongue passed her lips.

Y/n moaned, a sound he had already committed to memory, and lightly rolled her hips against his.

He pulled back, “You sure? In your brother’s house?”

She giggled, the blush a deep red on her cheeks and nose, “I have a room we could go to.”

He nodded, lifting her up so swiftly off the couch and maneuvering through the directions she gave him to get where they needed to be. Through giggles and miscommunicated instructions, the two were lovesick by the time they reached her room and closed the door.

Usually, Oscar would stalk toward her, take what he wanted and be as rough as he knew they both wanted. Although, as he stood in front of her door, he gazed upon her as if she was the most beautiful sunset he had ever laid his eyes on.

A gorgeous view that he realized was the most perfect part of Earth.

He wasn’t quick to get her on the mattress, in fact, he took his time getting there. Through kisses and slow removals of clothes, he walked them back to her white duvet, laying her down and being so struck by her beauty even Y/n couldn’t deny it herself.

She watched as his eyes trailed from her shoulders, down to her boobs, then to her stomach, back up to go over her arms, then slowly down again to take in her thighs and the clothed space between them, her shins, and then back up to meet her eyes.

With a light smile, he whispered into the quietness of the moment, “You’re so incredibly beautiful, my love.”

She was halfway to tears when he leaned forward and kissed her so intensely, she felt it in her toes. With Oscar, it never felt casual and she never felt as if she was some random person he was bedding to fulfill fleeting urges.

It was always about the love he had for her.

Oscar’s hand grazed the length of her body as it traveled down and disappeared below her panties, his lips never stopping on hers. With precision and thought, he began to gently circle her clit, easing her into the pleasure as he always did. His other hand held himself up above her as she moaned into his mouth, a sign that he could speed up.

Her hand on his bicep and the other around his waist, Oscar replaced the finger on her clit with his thumb and slid his digit into her.

She had tried to keep kissing him, but he could tell she needed to have the space and air to be vocal. So, he pulled away slightly, a small gap between them large enough that he could admire her blissed out face while also being impossibly close to her.

Her eyes closed and her moans continued as Oscar added another finger and sped up. Quiet whimpers made Oscar whisper, “I love how you sound, baby. Always do.”

At that, she moaned louder, chanting his name as he continued to increase his rhythm before the coil in her stomach was snapping and she was coming around all over his hand. His toothy, lopsided grin was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes again, an innocent, adoring smile on his face as if he hadn’t just made her cum.

“I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.” He whispered into her mouth before kissing her, trying to allow her a breath before they went to the next level.

Her nervous smile told him he needed to continue, “I’m serious, Y/n. You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid my eyes on. I’m not just being this way because I feel romantic. No, I’m doing this because, while sometimes I can contain myself, right now I can’t. You’re so pretty to me. Every time I look at you, I notice a new thing to fall in love with. Whether that’s the faint freckles on your nose or the mole right at the top of your leg, I’ve never loved every inch of someone the way I do with you. I’m so hellbent on kissing every part of you, physically loving you as a whole. I love how I can remember the way you smell and whenever I come across it I think of you and how much I love you. I love how soft and warm your hugs are after a hard day or a bad race. I never want to let you go because I know I’ll never find anything, anyone, as beautiful as you.”

Her teary eyes were remedied with a long kiss at the end of his speech as he slowly took off her panties and slipped off his after. His eyes boring into hers and whispering how much she meant to him, Oscar pushed into her.

His building pace made her eyes roll back into her head and his groaning into her neck.

A chant of “You’re the only one I want to ever do this with” leaving his lips as his hips rocked against hers.

“Oscar,” She moaned, nails digging into his back as he continued to go faster.

“Y/n, so good. So so perfect for me.” He moaned, pulling back to look her in the eyes and throughly communicate how much she meant to him.

Her hands tangled in his hair and he moaned loudly, “Fuck, Y/n, just like that.”

Her moaning continued, body going limp at the consistent pleasure surging through her body. When Oscar’s hand came to cup her cheek and pull her to his lips, kissing her with all his might and letting her know she wasn’t the only one so obsessively consumed by the connection they shared, she lost it.

Her moans turned into screams as he snapped his hips faster, chasing his high, but, most importantly, hers.

Looking her in the eyes, Oscar’s soft ones encouraged her, “My love, let go. I’m right here with you. Always.”

With that, she came hard around him, yelling out his name as he came right after her.

When, during times with other boyfriends, she would feel used and filthy, with Oscar, as he laid slightly on top of her, she felt special. She felt like she was the only person to have ever understood him for who he truly was.

She felt cherished.

She felt protected.

She felt wanted.

And, yes, she felt loved.

Turning over, her eyes met his and she smiled.

“Thank you,” She murmured as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/n, you don’t need to thank me for an orga-” He began.

“No,” She interrupted, looking into his eyes and making him understand, “Thank you for showing my what love is.”

His eyes softened, his hands immediately pulling her into him again and drawing the blankets over their naked bodies, “Baby, you mean everything to me.”

She nodded, smiling back at him, “I think I’m starting to see that.”

—

Lando’s confused face appeared again when his sister didn’t answer her phone. Irritatingly, he had only needed to go into one meeting, so he was off the hook by the morning. He didn’t want to stay in London, choosing the option of hanging out with his sister as the more important one, so he had caught the next flight out of Heathrow.

Private jet be damned.

Although, when he pulled up to his house and she still hadn’t answered, he thought it was bit strange. It was eleven am and she was usually up at this time, tired, but up.

Nevertheless, he figured she had stayed up late last night and slept in way late. That inference was confirmed when he walked through the door and it was dead silent.

However.

What he didn’t expect to see was an all too familiar duffel bag sitting on the floor of his foyer. The orange letters that spelled out ‘Oscar Piastri’ accompanied with the McLaren logo gave him whiplash.

There had to be some reasonable explanation, he thought, there was absolutely no way his teammate was here. Alone. With his sister.

Being the nosy person he is, Lando opened the bag and peered in to see the belongings, wanting to confirm it held Y/n’s things. Maybe he leant it to her, he tried, but when he saw men’s underwear and a box of condoms, his jaw fell agape.

Standing up abruptly, Lando made his way to his sister’s room. When his hand met the coolness of the door handle, he said a silent prayer to any supernatural being out there that could stop the inevitable from meeting his eyes. Per usual, that plead went unheard when he pushed the door open quietly and saw Y/n, his sister, asleep in bed with Oscar’s, his teammate, arms holding her strongly to his chest. His little sister’s face was toward him as it laid on the bare chest of Oscar, giving him the ability to see how peaceful she looked, more peaceful than she usually looked when unconscious.

Suddenly feeling like he was intruding on an intimate moment, Lando shut the door.

His brain reeling, he sat himself on the living room couch, no clue what had taken place on that very sitting area not even twenty four hours before. He sat with his thoughts for an hour or two before he heard the door to his sister’s room jostle and, finally, open. Out stepped a giggling Oscar and a smiling Y/n, a sight to see in Lando’s mind, as they failed to see the other person in the room.

“I think that might’ve been the best sex we’ve ever ha-” Oscar’s face went pale when he turned to walk toward the kitchen only to meet the face of Lando, the last person he wanted to hear that sentence come out of his mouth.

At his abrupt stop, Y/n turned around as well, jaw agape as she screeched, “LANDO?!”

His hands rested on his knees as he looked at the two of them. What a good couple they would make, he thought, seeing how Y/n was more comfortable in herself around him.

“I got let off early so, I came home. Didn’t expect this though.” His eyebrows wiggled as Y/n approached him, a paralyzed in fear Oscar behind her, “Lan, I am so so sorry you found out this way. We wanted to tell you on our own-”

The brother shook his head, “No, I get it. I’m not mad. Shocked, yes, but, not mad at all. I’m just happy you found someone as good as him.”

Her entire demeanor softened as she glanced back to Oscar, his mind slowly coming back to him, before turning back around and smiling, “Me too.”

1K notes · View notes

jinjeriffic · 2 months

Text

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #jazz gets to infodump and worldbuild whoo

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