#sorry you just opened the floodgates in my mind about this and now it’s in my brain

[quibbs126]

I've always wanted a pre!targent bronev game with rachel and their children!!! I absolutely love thinking about their little family and what could've been if targent didn't exist and a game would just fulfill all my bronev fam needs

Honestly though, it would just be really cute

Have the group solve some small scale mystery, maybe with archaeology involved to explain why Leon’s there (I like to think he’d be there solely for the archaeology, and Rachel having to be like “honey I love you but sometimes you need to check your priorities”), it wouldn’t be that hard. Heck, have this archaeology thing tie into the Azran in some way, then you could have references to AL or something

And I mean, it’d still be a Professor Layton game, because I mean…he’s there as a main character. Sure he isn’t Professor Hershel Layton at this time, but like. He’s still there

#ngl I had completely forgotten that post I made up until today #and I wasn’t sure if I had actually posted those thoughts on here #right up until you mentioned it #but yeah glad to see someone think the same! #also it could confirm that Rachel is taller than her husband #granted I suppose it’s not the most viable option given that if you don’t know Azran Legacy #you would have no clue who these characters are and why they’re starring in a Layton game #when there’s no Layton in sight aside from this kid who looks suspiciously like him #and another character named Hershel #but I mean if anyone wanted to make a fan game that’s still an option! #oh yeah and we’d get to actually know Rachel as a character #instead of her just being a fridged character #as well as the original family dynamics #imagine playing this hypothetical game and then playing AL and seeing how it all went downhill #or worse you play this before AL and just have your worldview shattered #sorry you just opened the floodgates in my mind about this and now it’s in my brain #professor layton #leon bronev #rachel bronev #hershel bronev #theodore bronev #answers

[dizzybizz]

hai here is a sketch dump with too many fandoms :) sorry about the ungodly amount of men here i have been going through it and by it i mean gay

ok wait i ran out of tags??? it wont let me tag them all😭😭😭 im gonna have to be sparing with them uhh i guess i will have to ramble under the cut then cus i like rambling in my tags but i cant with this one 😭

(ok im back from the ramble: it is way too long.... proceed forward if you want to see some guy just absolutely talk nonsense for entirely too long)

no cus i swear i have tried tagging more stuff than this before and never hit the limit but whatever

hello i really use this like a fkn blog huh

i just wanted to provide some thoughts on the harper and rosé one first bc its important to me 😌 cus i was thinking abt harper and how in my head and heart of hearts she would be the kid who thought you get pregnant from kissing and i dont think she ever really grew out of that belief. <- this ended up spawning the idea of harper being a sex-repulsed ace and i will die on this hill actually. fight me or die, you die either way actually nvm

this is just a buncha blorbos i dont know what to tell you really. sketch pages like these always end up so weird for me bc for some reason my brain always wants the characters in them to interact in some way. whether that be talking or just reacting to what the other is doing... its something i cant stop with, its so stupid and silly and i hate it and i love it. where else would i see kabru slowly losing his mind with how loud phoenix wright is in court????

I THOUGHT I HAD GOTTEN OFF THE RAILS WITH THAT BUT THEN THE NEXT PAGE HAPPENED. and all i could do was laugh and ask "what the fuck am i drawing??? HOW DID WE GET HERE? WHY IS THISTLE HERE WITH LEOPIKA HELP" LIKE that page started with the big leopika and then i was like "man i miss thistle lemme draw him real quick" but the curse struck and now hes being homophobic so </3

i rlly like how the nic(k) page turned out ... i just have a lot of nicks i like drawing idk.. the lil guy is an oc,,, one day his ref sheet will be finished and itll be awesome but not for now, sorry baby, no can do. im weirdly happy with how the hands turned out for all of them tho?? so thats a W

yotasuke, murai, nick (youll never know which one im referring to. .. jkjk its hoult i love the pose there ehehhe), nic and the entire last page r my favs. i like em all but those rlly get me yknow- the olly too ofc but ive already posted him, dont mind him being here, hes part of the set. AND OVER ALL IVE BEEN HAVING SO FUN WITH SHADING BLACK AND JUST LEAVING SPOTS BLANK ITS SO ?`????

WHY IS THIS SO LONG PLS DONT READ ALL THIS THIS IS STRAIGHT UP EMBARRASSING AGHSDFGSDHJSGD im all like "yeah i dont like talking about myself or whatever" but as soon as i get to my process or blorbos or smth the floodgates fucking break open, not even burst man.

also dont mind how i havent even acknowledged pingas twink pokemon counterpart. hes just here for shits and giggles i dont know the guy like at all, i watched a handful of eps of horizons and that was it RIP

#blue period #yotasuke takahashi #yakumo murai #tiger and bunny #kotetsu t. kaburagi #yu yu hakusho #hiei #kurama #drawtectives #harperosé #witch hat atelier #arkco #olruggio #brushbug #trigun #nicholas d. wolfwood #all saints street #nick hoult #bna pinga #dungeon meshi #kabru #ace attorney #phoenix wright #thistle #hunter x hunter #leorio paladiknight #kurapika kurta #leopika #my art #doodle

[sant-riley]

[Little things] [Ghost x Reader drabble]

AN: My god, it's been a while, babes. Hi hello!! I hope everyone's doing well, I'm back with another mid ass writing piece for Ghost based off of my experience getting flowers for the first time! I hope yall enjoy, I'm rusty as fuck lmfao

Contents: Gender Neutral reader, pre-established relationship, Ghost may be a lil ooc! This is about 1.2k words :)

"Are…are those flowers…for me??"

"Yeah." He gently extends his arms forward, the bouquet of bright and dark flowers shining under the light.

It looks so comically small in his grasp, so out of place. He looks so damn awkward, not looking you in your eyes. Simon has his civilian clothing on, his hoodie pulled tight across his head, making a shadow go across the small opening for his eyes in the balaclava.

You can barely make out any expression on his face, he's taking great caution to shield it from you as best as he can.

A lump is in your throat, making it hard to breathe with all the emotions flooding through you.

Looking down at the flowers again, biting your lip to stop the small tremble in it.

You quickly inhale then exhale shakily, moving to grab the flowers from his grasp, your fingers brushing against his own, though his are of course covered in his signature skeleton gloves. Still, a shudder goes down your spine, before you finally take the bouquet into your dominant hand.

A beat passes while your eyes just stare down at the flowers, not realizing the feeling of wetness making a small trail down your face.

"Oi, hey, what's with the tears for?" Simon's face pops into view, his large hand grabbing your chin and facing you towards him. His eyes are squinted and worry and anxiousness swims in them. His hands move without thinking to rub his thumb under your eye, catching the tears, and brushing them off.

It's embarrassing really, all these years you've lived and you're crying over some flowers, something so small.

Regardless, you sniffle and the floodgates open again, more salty tears pooling down and falling onto the petals.

"No one has ever gotten me flowers before."

Not your parents, not your other family, never a partner either, never once has anyone gotten you even just a single flower. Be it fake or real, you've never received one.

It was never a big deal, you pretended it didn't bother you, even if deep down it hurt just a tad when others got them for a special occasion, whether it be valentines, a graduation, or a promotion. It's just some stupid flowers that will make a mess with petals and be a hassle to clean up when it dies, who needs them?

It was just something you had come to terms with, pushing it to the back of your mind. Convinced yourself you didn't need them, much less that you deserved any in the first place.

But Simon, Simon Riley had gone out of his way to get you flowers, without prompting. The big bad Lieutenant of task force 141 went out of his way to not only visit you but to bring fucking flowers.

Simon sighs, moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling his heart clench painfully at your admission.

Despite the rough life he has grown up in, he always paid attention to how happy his mother was to receive flowers. His father was not the type of man to get them for her, but His mother was never afraid to get some on her own accord, to set the dining room table with, that she felt deserving of them and if no one else would get her any, she'd do it herself.

Simon never really took into account that he should get someone flowers, surely they'd just get it themselves if they really wanted. Staring down at you now, he realizes it's more so the thought behind the actions is what's more important, not the measly flowers themselves. The thought of someone getting you a bouquet just because it reminded them of you.

"I'm sorry it took you so long to get 'em, sweetheart." He speaks low, feeling regret that he didn't think to get you any earlier.

Simon lets out a grunt as you softly launch yourself at his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck as you shove your face into his shoulder, one hand carefully holding the gift. He wastes no time in wrapping one arm around your waist, his other free hand coming up to brush against the back of your head as he hums, resting his head against your own.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you."

It was just a nudge from Soap really, the scot making a small comment that surely you'd like some.

Simon didn't think much of it at the time until he passed by a flower shop on his way to meet with you at a nearby park, one of your regular days just to spend time with one another before you both inevitably were called back to duty.

He's sure he made the employee uneasy, his dark hooded and masked frame towering over her own as he roughly asked what kind of flowers he could get. Anyone with eyes could tell he was out of his element. God, he didn't know fuck all about flowers, the best he could guess were roses.

After a moment, the employee smiles warmly and asks who the person receiving them and while he's a man of few words, it wasn't hard to catch the softness in his tone when he spoke about you, the tinge of longing in his eyes when the employee politely asked if you were partners.

"No, just friends." He waved her off, not catching the look the young woman sent him. Just friends didn't get that look in their eyes, the full body relaxing at the mere mention of them, he was full of shit. 'Just friends' my ass, she thought.

"Well, how about this? I'll make a bouquet based on what you've told me and if you like it, you give it to them…?" She offered, already moving with a pair of scissors in her hand towards the small nursery.

Simon nodded simply, and the employee smiled as she pointed him towards a table to take a seat while she worked her magic.

It didn't take her long at all to pull all the flowers she decided to go with, taking them back to her station as she swiftly started arranging the flowers. Her hands worked efficiently as she finished it off with a plastic wrap, choosing a black bow (to match the lover boy's whole assemble) to wrap around the stems.

She quickly calls him over with a 'sir' and turns the bouquet towards him with a small "tada!".

The bouquet consisted of a dozen flowers, some big, some small, beautiful nonetheless. Camillas, Red carnations, daisies, gardenias, and Hydrangeas with some fillers scattered throughout.

Even if he wasn't a flower guy, he had to admit it was beautiful.

"Soooo, what do you think? Do you think these work for you?"

"Yeah, yeah they'll do." He's already reaching for his wallet, looking to grab cash to pay.

"This one's on me, alright? Ah- don't argue with me mister, just come back and let me know if they were loved."

She stuck out her pointer finger at the man, turning on her heel to start the clean-up process.

She heard him ruffle and grab the bouquet, making a grunt her way and leaving, the door bell chiming as he makes his way out,

Looking back at the counter, in her tip cup are two 50-pound bills left there. Letting out a sigh quickly followed by a smile, she wonders if the lucky person will get the hint with the flowers she picked out, after all, all flowers have meaning.

#ghost <3 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #cod x reader #kayla writes <3

[hookhausenschips]

I Just Want To Be Enough

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I’ve been in your shoes dear anon! Just know that even with your chest being that way, you’re still beautiful and that it does not define who you are! I also have an uneven chest, it’s taken me awhile to become comfortable in my skin but I promise you that you’re so beautiful. Look at statues from Ancient Greece, you are the epitome of beauty. You would be worshipped! And you should be! We love you anon🩵🩵

Reblog if you enjoyed🫶🏽

—————————————————————-

Y/N’s POV

I stood in front of the mirror, my hands trembling as I examined my reflection. The shirt I had chosen hung loosely over my frame, hiding the one thing I couldn't bear to face - my uneven chest. People had teased me about it in the past, cruel remarks that cut deeper than they had any right to. And now, even though I knew Logan loved me just the way I was, the taunts still echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of my perceived flaws.

"Hey, love, are you ready to go?" Logan's voice pulled me from my thoughts as he entered the room, his eyes instantly finding mine. His smile faltered when he saw the outfit I had chosen, confusion flickering across his features.

I forced a smile, trying to brush off his concern. "Yeah, I'm ready. Just trying something different today."

Logan crossed the room in a few quick strides, his brows furrowing with worry. "Different? You always look amazing, Y/N, but something seems off today. Is everything okay?"

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat as I struggled to find the words to explain. Logan had always been my rock, my source of strength, but admitting my insecurities felt like admitting defeat.

"It's nothing, really," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't know."

Logan's gaze softened, his hand reaching out to gently tilt my chin up so that our eyes met. "Hey, you can tell me anything, you know that, right? Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over as I struggled to keep my emotions in check. But Logan's unwavering support was like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness of my doubts.

"I... I've been feeling really insecure about my chest," I finally admitted, my voice trembling with vulnerability. "It's... it's not the same. One side is bigger than the other, and it's been bothering me a lot lately."

Logan's brow furrowed with concern as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from my face. "I'm sorry you're feeling this way, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice laced with empathy. "But please know that you are beautiful just the way you are."

Logan's arms enveloped me in a warm embrace, pulling me close as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of my head.

I buried my face in Logan's chest, the floodgates finally opening as tears streamed down my cheeks. He held me tight, his steady heartbeat echoing in my ears, a comforting rhythm that soothed my shattered nerves.

"I just want to be enough," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own sobs.

Logan pulled back slightly, cupping my face in his hands and forcing me to meet his gaze. "You are more than enough, Y/N," he said, his voice unwavering. "You are perfect in every way, and I wouldn't change a single thing about you. Please, don't ever doubt that."

"What if I got a boob job?" I blurted out, my voice barely above a whisper.

Logan's expression softened with understanding as he took my hands in his, his eyes searching mine with unwavering sincerity. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked gently.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I struggled to put my feelings into words. "I just... I feel so ugly compared to other girls with perfect chests," I confessed, my voice choked with emotion. "I thought maybe if I changed myself, I would feel better about... about me."

Logan's heartache was evident in his eyes as he pulled me into a comforting embrace, holding me close as if to shield me from the pain of my own insecurity. "Y/N, listen to me," he said softly, his voice filled with love. "You are absolutely stunning just the way you are. Your body is perfect to me, flaws and all."

As Logan held me, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the tempest of my emotions, I couldn't help but let my thoughts wander. His love was a constant in my life, a beacon of light guiding me through the darkest of nights. And though my insecurities threatened to pull me under, I found strength in his unwavering belief in me.

"I just... I want to feel beautiful," I whispered, the words escaping me in a rush of vulnerability. "I want to look in the mirror and see someone worthy of love."

Logan's embrace tightened around me, his arms offering a sanctuary from the storm raging within me. "You are beautiful, Y/N," he murmured, his voice a gentle reassurance. "You are worthy of all the love in the world, just as you are."

In that moment, as Logan's words wrapped around me like a warm embrace, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life within me. With him by my side, I knew that I could conquer even the darkest corners of my own mind. And as we stood together, united against the tide of my insecurities, I knew that his love would always be my guiding light.

#x black fem reader #x black!fem!reader #x reader #x black!reader #x black reader #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 williams #williams f1 #logan sargent x reader #logan sergeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant #ls2 #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #ls2 fic #ls2 fluff #ls2 x you #f1 x black!reader #x black plus size reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1

[residenthughes]

square one

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.6K

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, some angst, leon's dealing with some insecurities (acne) :(

summary: leon's always struggled with acne. a recent flareup brings up more than he bargained for.

notes: think i saw a post about the texture of leon's skin in the re4r, as well as a headcannon that he sometimes picks at his skin and idk, just felt compelled to write this. i struggled (still do) with hyperpigmentation from acne, so this was low-key self-indulgent (and me projecting, sorry leon 😭) so enjoy(?) the fruits of that! one more exam and i'll be active again (in between celebrating any chance that i get that exams are over) hope you enjoy! :)

He feels like a teenager again.

Full of angst and riddled with insecurity. There’s so much curiosity in his eyes, fingers gingerly grazing against the scarlet surface of his cheek with inflamed pimples. Leon thought he outgrew this. Despite the occasional picking at his skin when submerged in the anxieties that live rent free in his mind, his skin remained relatively calm rain or shine. It’s worst was when he was in high school, so awkward and unsure of everything. Redness dotted against his face, he felt like puberty brought out the worst in him, forced him to grow in a body now foreign to him, navigate the unknown territory that were his new feelings. It’s a time that isn’t all that nostalgic for him and when he stands in your shared bathroom, long into his adulthood - 27 years old - staring into his reflection, his life flashes before his eyes. He’s right back where he was. Nerdy and hesitant. 

He feels so small.

“Hey,” your call for his attention is soft, doused in all gentleness you can muster as you quietly observe your partner from the door frame. “You ok? Tea’s getting cold.”

Leon huffs in annoyance, not meaning to but when his eyes catch sight of how inflamed his skin is, it takes him gnawing inside his cheek to stop himself from spiralling. It’s so silly, insignificant even. Leon never really cared much for his appearance as an adult. Reminded fairly neutral in regards to himself, stance never swayed despite those that fell to his feet bewitched by his devastatingly good looks. His stance shifted when you two met. Suddenly, he was a teenager again, but in a good way. Do I smell good? Is my hair ok? Am I overdressed? All these little curiosities combated by the love you embrace him in. He doesn’t become confident - your love is not a fix-all remedy for years of trauma and insecurity. But he becomes more sure of himself, reassured and loved wholly. He picks up his own pieces, slowly but surely. You simply steer him in the right direction. A beautiful thing, a lovely thing.

In spite of this beautiful thing, Leon can get in his own way sometimes. Stares at his reflection too long when he’s been spiralling and simply meets your gaze with a vulnerability reserved only for you. “Skin’s been acting up.”

“Honey,” you approach him cautiously, like he’s made of porcelain and Leon leans into the gentleness without a care in the world. Your hands never make contact with him, knowing any touch might open the floodgates of emotional turmoil that slowly seep into his bloodstream, poisonous and harrowing in nature. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He grimaces, eyes avoiding yours as he shrinks into himself. “Been a stressful week is all.”

Leon flashes an unconvincing smile, puffing out a beat of laughter that is all but amused. “Guess this is the result of it, huh?”

Your heart sinks. You remember when this came up early in your relationship. You were often seeing each other, whether it was to go out on the town dressed to the nines or lounge around and snack on whatever junk food (of which there was very little in Leon’s apartment) you two could find. He refused to see you, citing long work days and the lack of energy they left him with as his reasons. You respected his wishes, giving him his space and all the time he needed before finding his way back to you. However, you couldn’t ignore the voice at the back of your head, nudging you towards him with pleas of assurance. Reassurance that he was ok and wasn’t deserting you for reasons you could help with.

You bumped into him on his way back from the grocery store.

Against his better judgement, Leon needed to restock his shelves with leafy greens to rid himself quickly of the acne against his cheeks. He knew you were at work, so he took his chance and sped ran through the isles, mask pulled up to his eyes as he simply went about his business. Packing his grocery bags quickly and making big steps towards his car, only to run into you in the parking lot.

He expects you to drop your belongings. Dramatises the whole scene in his head, imagines your face twisting in disgust and murmuring a half-hearted excuse to leave the conversation early to block his number because his insecurities have gotten the best of him and he can’t think any worse of himself than he is now. 

It’s all fiction, the tragic story he paints in his head. Sees you give a small smile, cautious and coy.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he muses, the awkwardness of his predicament leaving him with nothing but the desire for the ground to swallow him whole. “Would have dressed up a bit.”

You laugh a bit, easing the pain but Leon still wants to leave regardless, foot pointed away from you with his body slightly turning towards the direction of his car.

You take note of his body language and make the conversation flow as casually as possible. “Yeah, I got off work early and was actually gonna pick up some things to come see you.”

“See me?” 

“Yeah, think it’s to be expected to want to see your partner.” you joke lightheartedly, eying the tension that leaves Leon’s shoulders as they relax back from his ears. 

“That’s sweet of you,” Leon starts. “But, I’ve gotta head back to the office…printer’s jammed.”

“Again?”

It ‘jammed’ last week. Along with some other atrocities that left Leon MIA all last week and this week too. It’s not too long to question, but the distance between you is growing unlike times before. It unsettles you.

“Can’t work that thing to save my life. So, it’s my obligation to fix it.”

“Leon,” you’re seeing through his act, calling for the denouement to the charade Leon orchestrates. He feels sickly doing this - this isn’t what you deserve, he knows that. But, during one of scarce times in his life that he’s self-conscious, is it so horrible to want to be left alone? “You’ve been a bit MIA recently. You sure you’re holding up alright?”

He questions for a moment telling you. Disclosing his recent flare up because he knows it isn’t a bad deal, especially with you who nurtures a safe space for him to call home. And he does, he goes to tell you, but in a desperate attempt for closeness, you step forwards and he’s stepping back and suddenly there’s a deafening silence between the two of you.

“I didn’t mean-”

“It’s ok,” you reassure, time and time again. His heart hurts from the constant push and pull that plagues your relationship. It wasn’t something you had to deal with. “Just talk to me. Please?”

It’s different seeing you like this. Over text, it’s easier (but not impossible) to tap away at the screen and desert his phone, submerging himself in work to fend off any thoughts that attempt to crawl into his brain. But you’re here, right in front of him. Eyes soft and so unbearably honest with your state of being. It tears him up inside. Makes him acknowledge every attempt to distance himself from you and never do it again if the same circumstances arose.

Leon makes the situation right. Approaches you despite the screams at the back of his head and heads back to his apartment with you sitting in the passenger seat, describing the acne flare ups that in spite of the demons he faces on his missions, makes him react like no other. You comfort him as best as possible, listening to every word he says and not bothering with unsolicited advice or shallow comments that won’t help the situation. You simply craft an evening filled with distractions, all his favourite in-home activities whilst showering him with all the affection he’s missed. And when it comes time to wash up and settle into bed, you make light of the situation, giving him one of the Sanrio headbands you had left in his apartment as you two clean up for the night, the space and comfort you give him enough for him to crawl into your arms under the covers and never let go. It’s an act of service, a day, that he’ll never forget. One that allows him to bare himself to you, years later, and let you take the reins because this, on top of the travesties he’s encountered far too often lately, have made him feel like a shell of himself. 

“It’s hard to keep up with everything when you’re so busy, isn’t it?” He nods. “You’ve been working hard, always have. Saving the world isn’t an easy feat, you know?”

He laughs, this time around humoured. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“Well, whatever you do,” he laughs again and you can see him slowly coming back to you. You flash him a smile, a smile that holds timeless tales of your love story and his heart begins to warm. “It’s perfectly normal to get some R&R afterwards. It’s well deserved, especially in your case.”

He simpers, now having worked up the nerve to look into your eyes and in them, sees that dazzle. The same dazzle from your first glance, from your first confession. Even at his lowest, the dazzle remains. Your love, unwavering. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you, all of which he does when he feels like himself again. Showers you in abundance and more because that’s what you deserve and more.

“How about I run us a hot bath? You can tell me all about the printer jamming whilst I wash your hair, yeah?” 

He feels like a teenager again. This time, abundant in all the love he has for you.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #re4r #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #re4r leon #resident evil #resident evil 4 fanfic #resident evil fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #my fics

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝟓

➯ Y/N ONLY WANTS ONE THING AND HARRY IS LEARNING TO RELAX ENOUGH TO GIVE IT TO HER. ✰ demon!harry resolved angst. sexual content. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 16.6k ッ vanilla lime masterlist

Y/N is trying really hard not to cry.

Partly because once she does open the floodgates there is no going back in her admittance of how deeply she needs Harry and partly because if she starts she knows she won’t stop and he hasn’t even been gone a full minute.

ㅤㅤ

When she’d woken up, lax underneath his sweet smelling sheets, she knew—knew that if she didn’t go home that morning that she would never leave. And Harry’s lack of presence beside her was a blessing, otherwise she knows she would’ve been coaxed back to her fantasy land (that she’d tried so hard to distance herself from).

He hadn’t said much when she appeared meekly in front of him; had had a sliver of hope that the blissed out expression she had fallen asleep with might have stayed, but he could tell that she’d made her decision. And he hadn’t tried to change her mind, almost to Y/N’s disappointment—did he not want her as much as she thought he might? Was he fighting their connection and winning?

But Harry’s heart was heavy in his chest. Still is now, as he stands in front of her, back in her own living room.

“Thank you, Harry,” Y/N reluctantly starts, “for… for a lot of things.” She smiles sadly at the ground, willing herself not to tear up. She wonders how she would be feeling if their souls weren’t bound. Relief, perhaps. Or nothing at all.

He watches her. Notices the subtle clench of her eyelids to press the tears back in and the way her palms flatten against her thighs. He should say something but the words don’t form.

“I know this can’t have been the most exciting week of your life, but I definitely won’t forget it any time soon.” What are you saying? She swallows. “Will I see you again?” Y/N lifts her eyes up to meet his devastating green, brows furrowed in the slightest indication of his discontent.

“If you ever need the help of a demon,” Harry straightens his posture, “I’m sure I can find my way back.”

That’s not the circumstance she meant and they both know it. Y/N fails to hide the disappointment on her face but doesn’t voice it.

“Okay,” she whispers, voice intending to be louder but her throat clogs. Harry wants to swoop her up in his arms—but he doesn’t. He steps back.

“Bye, Bambi.” Y/N feels her lungs quiver under the weight of the sad gasp she nearly inhales, tears well on their way to clouding her vision. But she blinks them away quickly; refuses to miss the last sight of him as he looks at her. He’s doing a much better job of hiding his pain but Y/N can feel it, or at least she believes she can—if it makes her feel better about the way she’s ready to sob.

Harry gives her one final small smile, failing to reach his eyes, and then he’s gone. Completely and utterly absent, with the gentle breeze his leave creates whirling his usually soothing scent right into Y/N’s face. Only this time it smells bitter. And her waterline is so close to spilling over but she refuses to blink—instead knuckles at her eyes furiously and lets out some deep breaths. More open-mouthed forcings of air than controlled breathing but it works.

ㅤㅤ

She stands in her living room, head tilted back towards the ceiling, for longer than she’d like to admit until the jarring sound of her phone jolts her out of her maladaptive thinking. Another text from Sarah.

just making sure you’re alive…

haven’t heard from u in a couple days, u ok?

Y/N sighs as guilt rushes over her and temporarily replaces the despair. It’s not like she has intentionally been ignoring her friend but it was hard to reply to a ‘how are u?’ and a ‘u ok?’ text when there were no words to reply with. She already knows she won’t be telling Sarah anything, had known from the first day, and it eats away inside of her but she’s adamant it’s for the best.

hey, sorry i haven’t replied. been busy. i’m okay, how are you? x 

The telling bubbles that indicate Sarah is replying appear as soon as Y/N hits send and she deflates a little.

HELLO!

i’ve missed u

i’m good, slumped at work but you know how that is.

u free to meet up soon?

She’ll admit she does smile a little at her friend’s enthusiasm—nice to know that she’s cared about—and quickly types a response with the promise of being available at the weekend. Sarah seems satisfied with her answer and promises that they’ll have a good catch up. And whilst Y/N is relieved to not have to pretend that everything is okay anymore, as she tosses her phone towards her sofa, she’s once again left with her thoughts. The only thoughts her brain is capable of having; about Harry.

Imogen looks shocked to see Y/N sit down at her desk—the truth lingering between them as they exchange eye contact. She’d tried to stay at home, she really had, but nothing could grab her attention and nothing seemed important enough to warrant doing.

So she worked. For the rest of the week, she gets up and goes to work. But whilst she may be mimicking a normal life, hers is so very far from it. She allows herself to cry. Every night when she goes to bed—the distance from Harry hurts more and more with every sleep and the tears last longer each night. But Y/N likes to think she deserves a cry, as a treat from every day being the hardest day at work she’s ever had. She thinks Harry might come back if she cries hard enough but he never does.

Once it reaches Friday, Y/N finally acknowledges the situation to Imogen, who has been very patient all week. She doesn’t get teary eyed but something else catches her interest.

“I don’t understand,” Y/N says, wheeling over to Imogen on her squeaky office chair, “how you remembered.”

Imogen’s head tilts in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She leans in, quietening her voice. “Harry put a spell—a glamour—on the building. To make everyone forget about the whole incident… But you remembered that you prayed and that would’ve happened the day before. Harry even made you forget that he took me home.”

Imogen gasps. “I knew I recognised him, I do remember that now… in the bathroom.” Gently, she places a hand on Y/N’s knee. “We’re talking about Lucifer here, babe. He’s the most powerful being on the planet… I know I’m not very experienced in the matter but surely he overrides everything. At least, that’s what makes the most sense, considering Harry’s spell malarkey didn’t work on me. And you know, maybe my angel blood was finally doing me some good.”

Y/N sighs. “Yeah… I don’t know why I can’t stop analysing everything—nothing is going to change. I just—” she pauses, inhaling, “I miss him,” shuffling uncomfortably, clearing her throat, eyes darting anywhere but her friend’s face. “I think I’ll always miss him—I mean if our souls are bound,” she laughs humourlessly, “I think I’m fucked.”

“Oh, babe,” Imogen pulls Y/N in for a hug, knees bashing awkwardly as they both lean forward on their respective chairs. “I’ll give Harry a right piece of my mind the next time I see him. Using his fuckery to hypnotise me,” she tuts.

Y/N pulls away with a small smile. “It’s called mind compulsion, I think.”

“Well, my mind is feeling rather compulsed to punch him.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” she laughs and Imogen smiles, not mentioning the glossy look in Y/N’s eyes.

ㅤㅤ

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Y/N’s heart warms slightly, looking up from her desk as she gets ready to go home.

“That’s okay, Gen,” she smiles softly. Imogen doesn’t look convinced, worry plastered across her features. “I’m so tired I think I’ll pass straight out as soon as my head hits the pillow tonight.” She stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you, though. Really.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N does not, in fact, fall asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. Her head doesn’t even get close enough for that to happen. As soon as she hears the fateful click of her front door shutting, she’s letting her bag fall to the floor and her hands cover her face. The tears hold themselves back but her chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace—so painfully.

Every breath feels like another step taken away from Harry. He’s gone and she’s never going to see him again. She’s going to meet someone, force herself to fall in love and pretend that she is happy, have a beautiful family that fills the void but only for a little while—and still be longing for Harry until the day she dies.

It’s a hollow feeling, one of panic. The realisation that this could be her life now. That she will never be truly happy again because a part of her will always be missing. Y/N slaps her hands against the door behind her in an attempt to steady her fall as she sinks to the ground. Her head makes contact with the wood heavily as she stares up at the ceiling. Her breathing is uncontrollable now, so desperate to fill her lungs that her lungs refuse; they form an impenetrable wall and won’t let anything in. 

Y/N’s palms are sweaty on her knees, huddled to her chest. And then they’re wet on her eyes as her waterline starts to overflow, leaving hot salty trails down her cheeks and sobs that rip out of her chest. She’s never known crying to hurt like this. Even during the torturous week she’s had, when she buried her face into her pillow and cried herself to sleep each night, it hadn’t stung and torn through her like it is right now. Her head is pounding and foggy and she’s awfully congested, tears coating her face and pooling in her palms that are pressing numbingly into her sockets.

She doesn’t know anything. Other than that she needs Harry so much she thinks she might die from crying otherwise. Maybe her tears will start to fill her lungs and she’ll drown, or her ribs will crack from the force at which her shoulders are shaking and puncture her heart. The cause of death will be listed as the most pathetic of heartbreaks and she will be pitied by the masses.

His name is on a loop inside her head and he is all she can see behind her eyelids. She’s thinking of him so hard that she starts to smell him. And then hear his voice. And then feel his hands on her knees, trailing up to grasp at her wrists and pull them gently away from her face.

“Baby,” she hears Harry coo. Y/N gasps, revealing her sad, puffy face to him. She thinks she’s hallucinating but seeing him only makes her cry harder, eyes scrunching up and downturned lips letting out another sob. She’s pulled into Harry’s lap and he feels so real but Y/N can’t process what’s going on as she cries into his collarbone, soaking his shirt. Harry’s large palm is warm on her back, rubbing up and down in soothing motions as he mumbles things Y/N can’t hear into her hair. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice is thick; his name barely distinguishable but he knows. Squeezes her tighter against his body, arms wrapped around her back. She’s sat so close in his lap he thinks they might fuse together—he’d be okay with that.

It’s sudden—the way Y/N’s tears stop and her lungs break down their walls to let the much-needed air in. Her heart starts beating at a more steady rate as she inhales Harry—body relaxing into his—and her brain starts to calm down, fog shifting as it realises what’s going on. That nothing is missing anymore.

ㅤㅤ

Now, with a clearer head, Y/N starts to feel a little shy. She knows how rough she must look, water trails staining her skin, hands shaking, and limbs too heavy to hold up. Harry’s comforting hands hold her close to his chest as she breathes against his neck, but Y/N pushes against him to sit back and cover her face, desperate to wipe away some of her despair.

Harry cups her cheeks, nudging her hands out of the way and wiping the salty tracks from her skin. Her eyes flutter shut, furrowed brows relaxing somewhat. It’s a little humiliating when she feels him thumb underneath her nose, no doubt swiping away snot—she never thought she’d have anyone uncaringly clean her up like that and it causes an endeared warmth to blossom throughout her chest.

“You’re okay,” Harry says again, quiet enough that Y/N might think he fears the power of his own voice. His hands are so soft and warm as they hold her, mollifying her already leaden limbs as she melts even further into him, head leaning into his grasp. He drops a longing kiss to her forehead, pouring his every fibre into trying to soak up Y/N’s pain.

She brings her hands up to cover Harry’s, wishing she could breathe in better through her nose to unashamedly bask in his scent. “You heard me?” She asks.

“Every day.”

Y/N pulls back just enough so Harry’s lips leave her forehead, catching his gaze. His composure is commendable, and maybe if she wasn’t just about ready to dive into his eyes then it would be less obvious to her that he was hurting too.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, thinking of every tear she has shed over the last few nights and how loudly they must’ve echoed in Harry’s head.

“No.” He holds her face tighter, angling it up. He’s stern. “Don’t say that. I was trying to keep my distance. I thought— You have nothing to be sorry about, Bambi.” Harry strokes his thumbs across her cheeks, fingers gently buried in her hair. “I’m sorry. I could’ve come sooner—I let you cry,” he closes his eyes, brows kinked.

“Hey,” Y/N frowns. “If I can’t apologise, neither can you,” she shuffles even closer on Harry’s lap (not that she can get any closer but it feels necessary). She brings her own hands up to his face and delicately brushes his eyebrows—trails a finger down the bridge of his nose before using both her index fingers to pull at the corners of his mouth to twist them up into a smile. Harry relents, revealing his dimple in a smile he lets Y/N have. 

They sit there, with their faces in each other’s hands for longer than either of them know, only shifting into a more comfortable position when Harry hugs Y/N to his chest once more and rests his head atop hers. Both of their minds are running wild but neither of them want to be the one who disrupts the silence—bursts the bubble. Talking can wait a little while longer.

Harry takes her thighs and forces them even tighter around him, arms wrapping around her back securely. Even if Y/N wanted to move, their bodies wouldn’t allow it. He hugs her with so much force, Y/N’s breath hitches and Harry releases his grip slightly with a soft apology. She only nestles into his neck further, trapped hands resting happily on his chest. Their hearts beat together, steady and safe, and the places their skin touches liquify in bliss.

When Harry notices the shift in Y/N’s breathing he starts rubbing her back once more, whispering, “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” He can feel the flutter of her lashes against his neck and leans back just enough so she can’t bury in further. “Come on,” he tries again when she groans, “have you eaten?”

“No,” Y/N grumbles, wishing Harry would just let her nap on him. “Let me sleep.”

But Harry is already starting to get to his feet, hands securely under her thighs to keep her wrapped around him as he stands up with zero effort—Y/N nearly forgets his strength and agility surpasses that of an average person. She says nothing more, content with the lack of moving she has to do. He sets her down at her kitchen table—places her right on top of it. Y/N’s legs aren’t her own; they hang on tight when Harry tries to step back and she knows she should let go, that her moment of vulnerability has passed and she should act appropriately, but the possibility that he might disappear is knocking around invasively in her skull.

Harry treats her delicately—doesn’t tease. “I won’t be long.” He tucks her hair behind her ears. “You care what you have?” Y/N shakes her head, eyes failing to conceal her emotions. They’re wide, and overwhelmed, and tired. Harry smiles softly, holding her gaze for a second, his eyes flicking over her face; really there, really real. They get stuck in the moment again, taking one another in, before Harry forces himself to look away. He unlinks Y/N’s legs from around him and leaves her with an uncharacteristic tap to her nose with his forefinger that has her pulling away in faux annoyance, a small smile revealing her true feelings.

ㅤㅤ

They don’t talk whilst she eats. Harry comes back with a small bowl of leftover stir fry and helps her down from the table wordlessly, pulling out her chair and placing the food in front of her. He sits opposite and watches thoughtfully. Y/N doesn’t necessarily jump with joy at the idea of someone watching her eat usually, but none of the discomfort arises, gratefully filling her stomach and returning the eye contact whenever her mouth isn’t wide open mid-bite.

Before Y/N has even swallowed her last mouthful, she’s eager to push away from the table, sure she can hear the sweet siren song of her bed calling out to her. Harry follows her movements near weightlessly, every motion graceful. There was never anything clunky or awkward about him. Y/N pauses as she places her bowl in the sink, turning around hesitantly. “You’ll stay, won’t you?” Harry nearly rolls his eyes at the silly question—and maybe bites back a derisive remark—instead nodding assertively, calming her as much as possible without using his perfumed magic. (He decided a while ago he wouldn’t unless she asked—and even when she had asked, on the night that he’d stayed in her room to make sure she was okay, there was still a lingering guilt churning around inside him at the knowledge of his manipulation.)

“Of course I will,” he verbally confirms, following Y/N once again when she meekly walks past him through the doorway and heads towards her bedroom. Harry assumes she must be feeling a little embarrassed, always so determined to minimise her behaviour before tonight. The obvious display she’s presented has broken down a barrier; new for him but drastic for her. She may as well have removed her heart from her chest and spread it out for him, or delivered it into his palms with a note that read:

this is yours now.

Harry would be sure to take care of it, but he’s unconvinced Y/N knows that.

ㅤㅤ

She busies herself in the bathroom, mind running as she tries to plan some semblance of what she wishes to say in her head. When she pushes the door open however, and sees Harry sitting on the edge of her bed, her mouth starts running before her brain does.

“I don’t want you to go—” her skin warms and her eyes scrunch when she realises she’s blurted out the words that should’ve been hinted at much more gracefully. But she continues. “I mean— after tonight—” she rushes, “not because of the soul thing…or maybe it is but I don’t care.” Harry listens with a soft and watchful gaze. “It doesn’t bother me… and I want you to stay in my life and I know our souls being connected makes it complicated but I’m not just saying this. And it’s not just because of my unhinged crying, although it did suck…” Y/N lowers her voice, almost scared to admit it, “I think I would’ve cried anyway, tethered or not.”

Harry is processing her words for no longer than three seconds before Y/N starts up again, his miniscule silence as he carefully chooses his reply stirring a panic up inside her. “I know you probably don’t feel the same… or you don’t want to.” Harry sits up, mouth opening to correct her but she keeps talking. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me…”

“Y/N—”

“—But I thought you might be okay with becoming friends?”

“Y/N—”

“—Or if not I could just push someone else down the stairs and—”

“Y/N!” Harry finally cuts through her. His voice is powerful, commanding, but still so delicate it barely disturbs the particles around them. She looks at him properly, pulling herself out of her head, with wide eyes. “You’re working yourself into a tizzy, hm? Come here, silly girl.” He opens his arms and widens his legs so Y/N can step between them. Warm palms rest against her hips.

“I feel the same way. And I want to.”

His words light up inside of Y/N; they trail into her ears and slick down her neck. Seep into her skin and vibrate through her bones.

“Does that make you happy?” He strokes his thumbs against her hip bones, honey-dripping tone placing a coy smile onto Y/N’s face as she bites her lip in an attempt to hide it. 

She nods. “Yes.”

And she nearly stays happy too. Nearly lets her shoulders relax and her protective layer fall away. Until Harry continues speaking.

“But—”

“No,” Y/N’s smile drops. “No, there’s no but. Harry, please.” She tries to step back but Harry slides his hands around her body. 

“When we were at the cottage,” he starts, “I was ready to keep you forever. I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.” His eyes round out as they look up at her. “But how could that have been fair? I’m no good, Y/N, really—”

“—Don’t say that.” She grabs his shoulders.

“Please, Y/N. I’m old, and I do bad things, and whenever I am with you I am terrified you might suddenly realise what I am. You deserve a nice, human boy much better than me, who doesn’t put you in danger and can give you a normal life. I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from you.”

A million things rush through Y/N’s head. Sadness and sympathy for the way Harry talks of himself, and then frustration and denial that he could truly believe that. “Harry,” she starts, frowning face mirroring his own, “You are better.”

His expression stays the same, large eyes hesitant and unconvinced, not quite understanding what she is saying.

“You have been kinder to me than any human girl or boy—well, except for my friends but I don’t mean like that,” she pauses. “To say you are not good enough isn’t fair, especially when I’ll be comparing everyone I ever meet to you. And you will always come out on top.” Harry’s face softens and his hands pull Y/N in closer. “I know what you are, Harry. It doesn’t scare me,” she whispers, cupping his face tenderly. “I like liking you. It feels good.” She lets her eyes close, forehead tipping down to rest against his and he angles his head up. She listens to the way he breathes, slow and deep, and his silence unnerves her once more. “Say something,” she exhales.

“It’s too dangerous, I— Lucifer mentioned a demon named Zennith, that apparently I used to know but I don’t remember. He sent the demon after you and I don’t know what he wants or where he is. I could find him but I was half-hoping that if I ignored it, he would give up. I don’t even know if Lucifer was telling the truth. But nothing threatening has happened to you since Niall took care of the demon and I like things that way.”

Y/N doesn’t care. “I don’t care,” she tells him so, “you protect me.” And he does, better than anyone else could possibly attempt to.

Harry’s holding himself back; they both know it. Both know that he’s letting his worries get the better of him when nothing like this has affected him before. He’s usually so confident in his abilities to keep her safe, so what’s changed? He considers the possibility of a more permanent method of concealing her scent—one that might involve teeth, or words, or something so intimately internal that Harry has to redirect his thoughts before they get too muddy.

“Let me sit on it, yeah Bambi?” He eventually utters. It’s not a no, Y/N thinks. “I would rather never see you again in my long, immortal life than know that your pain was caused by me.” This has her eyes welling up as she clumsily lowers down onto his lap, arms thrown tight around his middle.

“Don’t say that,” Y/N speaks into his neck. “Don’t even think about it.” Her words are wet against his skin.

Harry sighs, his own face buried into the side of her head. “Always making you cry, sweet girl,” but Y/N shakes her head fervently until he smooths her hair down and holds her just as tight. “Been crying since the day we met.”

“No. M’tummy hurts, s’all.” Y/N is unconvincing but Harry smiles against her hair, mumbling a soft okay as they sit in each other’s arms once again.

ㅤ

Y/N is unsure at what point she was moved into her bed instead of on Harry’s lap on top of it, but when she wakes up in the morning and the first thing she sees is his sleeping face, logistics don’t seem important. Nothing seems important, apart from him being in front of her.

His face is serene, not a furrow or worry in sight, and his breathing is peaceful and deep. She wants to touch every inch of him—commit him to memory—but she doesn't want him to wake up. This could be it—the day he decides to never see her again, and the mere thought has Y/N closing her eyes in an attempt to will it away. Her body doesn’t function properly without him anymore. How would she possibly survive on her own?

“Y’thinking too loud,” the grumble jolts Y/N out of her depressing reverie, eyes opening to see Harry sleepily blinking at her. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles back, eyes flitting around the slivers of shirtless skin she can see. Harry reaches for her under the covers, fingers trailing up her arm. Her eyes meet his and he has a soft smile on his face, mussed hair curling around his temples. When his palm smooths up her neck and into her hair, there’s nothing more she wishes to do than sink into his touch. But she feels the need to protect herself and Harry notices the way she holds her breath.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pushes himself up and drops down closer to her.

“But you get to?” Y/N says, slightly affronted.

Harry sighs, “No, baby—” he rubs hand down his face before running it through his hair. “I’m here right now. I won’t disappear, I promise you.”

Right now. Y/N repeats it in her head. Not forever—right now. Is that enough?

“But if anything becomes dangerous you’ll leave?”

“If anything becomes dangerous I will protect you entirely. And then I will make sure you stay safe. And if that means keeping away from you then that’s what I’ll do.” He traces the shell of her ear with his finger. “Don’t be so sad, little thing.”

“Why aren’t you sad?” Y/N huffs.

“How can I be, when I am with you?”

He has to go and be so irresistibly mawkish. Y/N can’t help the way her heart swells and her pupils expand. To be so unashamedly wanted is all she has ever wished for. She reaches her own hand up, landing on his that has weaved into her hair and bringing it down to hold her face. Her lips pucker against the spongy part of his palm, and then the pad of his thumb, and each of his fingers. Harry watches her with a small smile, eyes velvety.

He can’t stop himself from surging forward to press their mouths together, liquid insides begging him to do something. Y/N sighs into Harry’s mouth, easily following his movements. It feels as though they’ve been doing this forever—waking up next to one another. He keeps a firm grasp on her hand, manoeuvring their fingers so they interlock and pushing forward so Y/N lays on her back. Harry settles between her legs, lips never straying as their mouths open wider and wider with each kiss. With his free hand, Harry dances it down Y/N’s front, the other that’s firmly squeezing hers, still holding him up. Her nipples peak underneath her shirt and Harry elicits a gasp from Y/N as he thumbs over one, not stopping for long enough to tease as he gets further and further down her body.

Y/N opens her mouth for Harry eagerly, accepting his tongue with a grateful whine. Their noses bump and their breathing is laboured but it’s flawless. And when she feels Harry trail along the waistband of her shorts she pushes her hips up into him, only to have him send her back down and smooth his big hand underneath her shirt and press into her tummy. It’s a nice force, a warm and fuzzy feeling. One that has her sinking deeper into the space Harry gets her to when they do these things.

“What am I g’na do with you?” Their lips part and his eyes are seductive, stripping her bare. 

Y/N inhales shakily before whispering, “Whatever you want.” She tries to push into his hand but his strength is vast and he drags his nails up to her sternum before returning to her stomach and reapplying pressure.

Harry hums, slanting his lips against hers again, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip until he can almost feel her skin tingling with impatience. “You want me to make all the decisions, hm?” He mumbles against her mouth. When she whines in affirmation, he says, “You like having no power, don’t you? Like just lying there and taking what I give you?” Harry’s words stoke the fire in her belly, thighs twitching. Y/N’s skin grows hot as she nods, embarrassed. “You gone all quiet on me, baby?”

“I like it,” she breathes, eyes closed.

“Like what? Look at me,” Harry squeezes her hand. “Like what?”

Y/N blinks up at him, takes in the flush of his cheeks and the glint in his eyes. She wants to kiss him until all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. “I like…when you decide. Want you to do whatever you want to me…please?”

“Love how politely you beg,” Harry kisses her again, sighing into her mouth. His tongue strokes hers and makes her squirm underneath him, tentatively hooking her legs around his hips. Harry moves his hand from her tummy around to the back of her thigh, and then her ass, pushing her into him as far as she can go.

Hard meets soft and their mouths open against one another. Harry pulls away, sponging kisses down Y/N’s neck. He trails further, licking her nipples through her shirt and taking a moment to admire the wet patches. Then he pushes the fabric up just enough to kiss at her stomach, nibbling until he hears giggles mixed in with Y/N’s moans. Harry smiles against her skin, peeking up at her from underneath his lashes. She looks so beautiful, all bated breaths and glowing skin.

“Tickles,” she exhales.

Harry can’t help himself. “Oh? When I do this?” he asks, before biting into her flesh again, dotting kisses for each tooth mark he leaves. And then he blows a wet raspberry underneath her belly button, eliciting the most adorable string of shrieks and giggles he’s sure he’s ever heard. Harry shakes his head back and forth, face snug to her skin, and his hair sweeps against her. Soft as Y/N’s hand falls into it, trying to tug him away.

He unlinks their hands and brings both of his palms to her hips, holding her to him. And as he subtly slips down, his mouth starts leaving kisses again and Y/N’s laughs get caught in her throat. Harry looks up at her with a smirk, mouth hovering above her mound. Her eyes are wide and her chest is heaving. But he’s barely even begun to tease yet. 

Slowly, Harry kisses over Y/N’s shorts, down, down, until his nose is level with her clit. And Y/N’s breath turns into a whine, and then a squeal when Harry nudges it, shaking his head from side to side again. Her hips buck into his face and he lets her, holds her closer to him as he inhales and breathes hot air onto her.

“Should I take these off or should I ruin you through your shorts, hm?” Harry gives a particularly pointed prod with his nose and Y/N gasps. “Think I could soak you through two layers?” Y/N doesn’t know anything, can only feel the immense throbbing between her legs. But Harry does all the thinking for her. “I think I could. But I won’t today,” as he tugs on the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down her legs, presenting her already wet underwear, “wanna taste you proper.”

The promise has Y/N’s stomach contracting and her hands fisting the sheets as Harry drags the flat of his tongue over her, causing her panties to stick to her as he plays and increasing the thrumming in Y/N’s body. Harry groans into her, the vibrations pulling a whimper from Y/N’s open mouth.

“You’re so responsive, Bambi,” Harry smiles against her. “I barely have to do a thing and you’re squirming underneath me.”

“Only you,” she whines, eyes finding his as he soaks his saliva over her clit, drenching her underwear further.

Harry hums, “That’s right. Just f’me, no one else.” She nods desperately. “You’re a good girl.” Y/N shivers, body begging him. “Should I make my good girl come, do you think?”

“Yes, please,” her bottom lip juts out, wet and puffy. “Need you.”

“M’needy girl needs me,” Harry pouts right back, and Y/N nearly begs again but her breath gets caught in her throat as Harry plucks her underwear to the side and licks through her folds, bottom to top. Her hips shudder and Harry forces her thighs around his head, doesn’t let an inch of space get between them. He laps at her like he may die without it, hums and groans into her, buries his nose so tightly against her clit and massages his tongue inside of her. Y/N swear she loses consciousness, head thrown back and eyes rolling—every sense overwhelmed. No one had ever made her feel like this before.

And the coil in her belly is already tightening, and Y/N knows she could let go so easily, she’s already so nearly there. But then a harsh blaring coming from her bedside table has her jumping from her skin. Harry doesn’t flinch, carries on practically devouring her. “What is that?” he speaks into her, arm thrown over her waist holding her down.

Y/N can’t talk, just blindly slaps for her phone to turn her alarm off. “I’m—” she tries, “seeing—Sarah—” her words come out broken and Harry hums against her, speeding up his movements. Y/N cries out, hands landing in his hair.

“Better come then,” Harry mumbles, sucking her clit into his mouth hard and then laving his tongue over her in tight circles. “Be a good girl and come for me, Bambi.” She whimpers as his tongue speeds up and one of his hands trails up her chest, pushing her shirt out of the way to reveal her breasts. He flicks at her nipple, pinches and squeezes and feels her pulsate against his chin.

She’s garbling his name, body wound up tight and he’s whispering into her, “I know, I know, just come for me.” Her orgasm is right there, she’s so close, and all it takes is for Harry to take his other hand and sink a single finger into her drippy hole and she’s clenching down around him, crying out as she comes. Her eyes squeeze shut and tears slide down her temples as Harry licks her through it, humming. He can’t take his eyes off of her, splayed out so pretty for him, contracting around his finger and pulling on his hair.

“Good girl,” he whispers against her, parting from her for a moment to give her a little respite, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh. Y/N blinks, looking down at him with a spacey expression and a wet face. She opens her mouth to speak but the noise gets lodged in her throat.

“That was—really nice,” a tear rolls down her cheek.

Harry smiles and presses a longing kiss to the crease of her thigh, “Yeah? Those good tears?” Y/N nods fervently. He kisses her again, and again, slowly moving back to her centre where he sponges his lips over her clit.

Y/N jumps and gasps. “Too sensitive!” But Harry strokes her hip bones gently and slicks his tongue through her folds, avoiding her pearl.

“I know, just le’ me clean you up.”

“Harry… I need to get dressed,” Y/N sighs, without attempting to move. Her head just sinks further into the pillow as her rapid heartbeat starts to calm down whilst Harry sweetly tends to her. She runs her hands through his hair and then lets it brush against her tummy, sighing as she watches the way his eyes flutter.

Just as her body hints at the idea of building back up, Harry reluctantly pulls away with glistening lips. He peels her legs from around his shoulders and climbs up to lean over her, stroking her hair from her face. Y/N nearly melts under his gaze but then she forces a frown onto her face.

Harry pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Oi. What’re you grumpy about now?”

“If you’re not here when I get back, I am going to murder you, Harry.”

He laughs, dropping a wet kiss to her cheek. “That’s okay, sweetheart.”

Harry teleports to Niall’s house and quickly ushers him to follow, settling when they’re both in Y/N’s living room.

“Could’ve been preoccupied, you know?” Niall glowers. 

“Well, you weren’t.”

“I could’ve been—”

“—Did you find anything?”

Niall stares at Harry for a moment, opening his mouth and then shutting it again. For once, Harry doesn’t roll his eyes or tell him to just spit it out, instead taking a seat on Y/N’s armchair and gesturing to the sofa for Niall.

“Nothing helpful, I’m afraid, Harry. Just more of what you already know—that the unbinding incantation is lethal to humans. I’m sorry.”

Harry feels rather unaffected and Niall notices but says nothing. He’s not sure he wants to untether their souls now even if they could. He’s in too deep.

“But,” Niall continues, “I did read that as long as you don’t kiss her, your feelings should remain more manageable. Something about giving in to your souls.”

Harry looks at Niall. Niall blinks. “Harry,” he deadpans. “You haven’t.”

“Have you ever tried not wanting to kiss your fucking soulmate, Niall?”

His friend lets out a breath, leaning further back into the sofa. “Well, you’re fucked then, mate.”

Harry doesn’t necessarily agree. He might have a week ago but his priorities have changed in that short span of time. 

“Thanks for looking,” Harry finally says.

Niall looks solemn. “What are you going to do now?”

Harry smiles, “Y/N threatened murder if she came back and I wasn’t here, so…”

“Man, you are down bad.”

“Perhaps,” he shrugs.

ㅤㅤ

Meanwhile, Y/N is being grilled by Sarah for seeming different lately.

“I can’t tell if you’re on cloud nine or on tenterhooks expecting to hear bad news.”

“Maybe I’m both. Happier than I’ve ever been but waiting for it to go up in flames.”

Harry wakes up before Y/N the next morning.

(She had arrived home the day previous with bated breaths, assuring Harry and his smug face that she was serious about the murder if he hadn't been there. But he just looked at her with his teasing green eyes and coaxed her into his lap where he mocked until she squirmed.)

He wakes up with a renewed vigour, feeling his irises practically disappear as he takes in Y/N’s sleeping form. Hair a mess, face soft and unburdened of anxiety, and limbs relaxed right on top of Harry. He feels a sense of self-accomplishment that in her unconsciousness she gravitated towards him, and the longer he looks at her beautiful face, the more sure he is that he’s going to promise her longer than just right now.

In fact, however hard it is to sneak out from underneath her, he decides he’ll surprise her with breakfast too and his heart swells at the picture of her waking up in his head. She’d probably half-heartedly grumble at him for waking her up and then pretend not to be grateful for the food he presents.

Harry is busy for a little while, taking things slower than he usually would to try and stay as silent as possible. He’s just taking soft-boiled eggs off the hob when he hears it—Y/N’s cry. Everything is turned off and Harry is hurrying into her bedroom immediately, seeing her start to thrash about under the covers.

“Hey, hey,” he tries, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Wake up, Y/N.” A tear rolls down her nose and Harry is quick to brush it away, gently manoeuvring her so she’s laying on her back and not her side. “It’s okay, baby, wake up,” he strokes her face, tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing out the furrow in her brows. Nothing works. Not even as he starts to shake her shoulders—Y/N only cries harder and flails more. “Come on, Bambi,” Harry starts to panic; he tries to keep it quelled but the churning in his gut is getting stronger and stronger.

It’s when Harry jostles her particularly powerfully that her eyes shoot open and his heart nearly drops out of his body when he is greeted with complete darkness. His eyes looking back at him—gone are her beautiful irises, replaced by black, soulless, foreboding ovals.

He’s seen this before, knows what’s happening, but never has he dealt with it affecting someone he cares about more than life itself. Any part of trying to help her could actually harm her.

Harry doesn’t have to guess very hard as to who it is that’s controlling her dream, and he berates himself for trying to pretend that someone didn’t exist instead of killing him days ago. How could he let this happen to her? If Harry weren’t here right now, she could be stuck in this state for however long Zennith decided. Hours, days, or even weeks.

Usually Harry would be preparing to perform a ritual to wake up whoever was inflicted, but he doesn’t have anything and his hands are shaking like leaves. He needs to pull himself together. Y/N’s eyes are still open and it’s upsetting Harry to a fault; he’ll never be useful if he falls apart. 

Gently, he brushes her eyelids closed, unnerved at how inhuman she looks. An idea plants its roots in Harry’s head as he swipes away more of Y/N’s tears, delicately holding her arms down so she doesn’t writhe. He’d never attempted it in this context before, but maybe…

ㅤㅤ

Y/N will never sleep again. She’s sure of it. The image before her is undoubtedly one that will stick with her for the rest of her measly life.

She doesn’t even remember waking up—although she’s pretty sure she isn’t fully awake because the room she is in isn't a room. It’s a lack of space, a vast darkness, with her sat in the middle and an unsettling looking man standing two feet away. She can’t move, she can’t speak, she can only blink, and feel hot streams running down her face.

“Hello, Y/N. It seems I finally entered the right person’s dreams.” His voice is slimy. Was this the demon Harry had mentioned? What was his name? “You are very pretty,” the man says, and a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. “What’s a little human like you doing with a demon like Harry?”

Having more fun than I am with you, she thinks.

“He’s a bad man, Y/N. I’m sure he’s mentioned me, filled your head with lies.”

He doesn’t even remember you.

“He might be nice to you now, but one day he will only succumb to his true nature and kill you. He tried to kill me once.”

You probably deserved it, Y/N thinks, but the demon’s face contorts and then she realises she said it out loud. She goes to speak again but she can’t; he’s controlling her.

“Ah, yes, I see he has already tainted you.” He steps closer. Y/N desperately wishes to move backwards but none of her body responds. “That’s okay. A shame but nothing I can’t change. What is necessary will be done.”

Y/N doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, sure he must be mentally unhinged, but it doesn’t unsettle her any less as he gets closer and closer. The uncontrollable tears feel nearly scalding on her skin and she won’t blink in fear of her own safety.

“When you wake, I want you to come and find me.” His eyes darken like Harry’s, but Y/N can’t help but think that they suit Harry far better and are much less disturbing on him. “I think you’ll be much happier with me, as my little pet.” He reaches his hand out towards her face and Y/N wills every part of her being to flinch away, despite no movement happening. She feels no touch however, and notices his fingers trace the air around her cheek. He can’t, perhaps.

There’s no doubt in Y/N’s mind that whatever words the demon is speaking are supposed to have some hypnotic effect on her—but nothing in her mind changes. Nothing comes over her in a strung-out realisation, her eyes don’t round out in newfound adoration and her heart doesn’t start to speed up.

Well, it does, but not out of endearment. She can only hope her connection with Harry’s soul is what's keeping her unscathed.

The demon keeps speaking and Y/N still can’t remember his name, but her neck suddenly starts to sting and she flinches. She actually, physically moves. He looks at her, puzzled, before letting out a quiet curse.

“You come and find me,” is that last thing she hears, each word more muffled than the last as her eyes droop closed and the pain in her neck is the last thing she feels.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N wakes up with a cry, body surging forward and immediately crashing into a hard chest. Harry. It takes her a second to realise that the pain from her dream is real, and that Harry is the cause of it, as she feels his teeth pull away from her neck and watches as he leans back to see her face. She swears his eyes are glassy.

“I’m sorry, are you okay? I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know what else to do,” Harry exhales, words jumbled. She’s never seen him lack composure—it’s disconcerting. He cups her face and wipes her tears away, pulling her up and into his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her.

“Harry?” Y/N croaks, “My neck,” she lifts a heavy hand up to touch but Harry takes it delicately.

“I know, sweetheart, m’sorry,” he lays her back down against the pillows and lightly laps at her neck, cleaning up the blood and laving over the bite. His saliva feels healing, as the pain trails away and all she can feel are Harry’s soft lips leaving tender kisses over the mark. Her eyes well up—feeling vastly overwhelmed as her dream plays back in her head. Visuals of the darkness, and the maniacal demon with the wish to own her.

“Am I definitely awake?” Y/N’s lip quivers, vision blurry with tears.

Harry’s heart sinks in his chest, taking in her crestfallen and frightened expression. “You’re awake. I promise, my sweet girl.” He places a longing kiss to her forehead, thumbs determined in the cleaning of her tears. “I promise.” He kisses her nose, and then her cheek, and Y/N is turning to catch his lips—uncaring as the blood from his mouth and the salt from hers mingle together in an seismic kiss.

Y/N grips his hands desperately, tightly—as if they ground her—and Harry’s mouth presses harder to hers in return. Harder yet still tender, treating her with such fragility that only he can deliver. Her whole body feels weak and her eyelids are so heavy.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispers against her lips as they part. “This is my fault. I should’ve taken care of Zennith a long time ago.” He plants a little peck.

“Are you—going to—leave me—now?” Y/N blubs, fat drops sliding onto the pillow.

“Never,” Harry swears. “Never, Y/N, I promise.” His hands frame her entire face, as she blinks sadly up at him. Tears cloud her vision. “Was g’na tell you this morning. Was making y’brekkie ‘n’ everything.” She sniffles loudly. “I don’t want to ever be away from you again, my little Bambi.” Y/N’s face screws up as more tears fall, but these ones are less forlorn, as she tugs Harry down on top of her. He tucks his face into her neck, kissing over his bite mark once again.

When her sniffles have lessened, Harry pushes his arms underneath Y/N’s body and rolls them over so she’s resting on top of him. She sinks into him easily, limbs too heavy to hold up, and Harry’s insides roil at how weak she seems.

“Why did you bite me?” Y/N mumbles into his chest. “Like some sort of dog.”

Harry exhales a laugh and rubs a soothing palm along her back. “It’s a temporary scenting bite—they have protective qualities… among other things… I didn’t know if it would work.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “What else will it do to me?”

“You’ll probably be a little needier for a couple days. I might be too. Would be stiff right now if the circumstances were any different.”

“Oh,” she breathes, “do you want…” her hand tries to move downwards but Harry’s gathering it up immediately.

“No, baby. I was far too worried about you to be thinking with my dick. And you need rest.”

“I’mfine,” Y/N says but the words slur together and Harry has been watching her very, definitely closed eyes for the past two minutes.

“I won’t move an inch,” he promises. “Dream of me this time, Bambi.”

ㅤㅤ

Sure enough, it’s as if Harry hadn’t even been breathing when Y/N reawakens after her second, much more pleasant sleep. But she stirs to the comforting feeling of his warm chest rising and falling and nuzzles her face further into his body, tucking underneath his chin like a little puppy.

He carries her (despite Y/N’s adamance that she can walk just fine), and feeds her, and even offers to dress her but Y/N insists she has full control over her body. Harry is serious though, in his worry for her—doesn’t find any part of it humorous and she has to try hard not to tease him for it.

ㅤㅤ

“I have to kill him,” Harry states from next to her. Y/N has just finished explaining the details of her dream and it jostles her a little but she surprises herself by not minding one bit.

“Okay,” she says. “What if you get hurt?”

And Harry doesn’t mean to be patronising but he laughs, “I’ll be just fine, Y/N.” 

She frowns, “I’m serious. I’m allowed to worry about you too. I don’t even know what this guy is so het up about.”

“I know,” Harry sighs, scratching at his jaw. “I wish I could remember him.” He places a hand on her knee. “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s given me more than enough reason to make sure he isn’t a problem anymore.”

Y/N nods silently.

“How’s your neck feeling?” Harry brushes his knuckle over the mark.

“Fine,” she hums. 

“Don’t feel needy or anything?”

“No.”

“No?” Harry smiles. “Then why are you gripping me so tight?”

Y/N looks down to see her fingers wrapped around his hand on her knee and she frowns. She doesn’t pull away though, she just glares at Harry who pinches her cheek in return.

“You’re cruel,” she grumbles.

Harry’s grin widens, “Yeah,” he leans in, “I’m mean,” closer, “really, so very mean,” he breathes against her mouth, eyes daring to flick to hers before they flutter closed and their lips meet. His hand takes her throat tenderly, not applying pressure, just holding as Y/N mollifies into his kiss. She turns his palm up and intertwines their fingers, squeezing subconsciously when Harry sucks on her top lip.

And he couldn’t find her any cuter, he’s sure, when she leans into him—unaware of her own movements. Harry tries moving back, just to tease, but Y/N follows him like a magnet; lips refusing to part. When he wants to actually speak, he squeezes her throat with the least amount of strength, not expecting her to melt even further into him. He shouldn’t have been surprised. But he doesn’t bring it up now.

“I’m going to have Niall come here for a bit,” he mumbles against her mouth. She’s trying her hardest to keep kissing him.

“Why?” Y/N whines, too enraptured to think about anything other than Harry and his lips.

“To keep you company.” To keep you safe.

She blinks up at him then, forcing her face to distance itself farther than two inches. “No,” she pouts, doing a wonderful job of proving she isn’t feeling needy. “Do you have to go now?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Harry squeezes her hand.

And he can tell that she wants to protest further, so he leans in once again and sponges his lips all over her face—doesn’t stop until she’s giggling and struggling, trying to move away from his unrelenting tickles. She falls back and Harry moves with her, hovering over her body on the sofa as he places sloppy kisses on her skin and trails his hands down her body to find the most reactive spots.

“Harry!” she squeals, wriggling underneath him. “S-Stop!” Her hands flap about, trying to cease his torture. Harry can’t help but smile down at her, eyes shining with fulfilment. “I’ll pee!” She panics and Harry slows down but doesn’t stop.

“How do you know I’m not into that?” He teases and Y/N gasps, determined to escape his grasp.

“Harry! Gross!” And he finally stops his ministrations, leaning back to give her some space as her chest heaves. His hands rest on her waist as he sits back, taking in her mussed hair and glowing face.

“I have to go now or I’ll never do it,” he whispers. Y/N feels her heart swell at the way he’s looking at her. She understands. But she still manages to keep him over her for another ten minutes.

Zennith is pitifully easy to find.

Harry almost feels humiliated at how much the demon has affected Y/N’s life when Harry could have tracked and located him in no longer than five minutes.

Using everything he knows about Zennith, Harry closes his eyes and searches—bounces from place to place with no resistance. Is unsurprised at the lack of concealment of scent or location Zennith has in situ. He retraces moments, smells, and faces that lead Harry in the right direction until he can see a clear outline of where he needs to go.

He also sees the clear outline of an additional presence that Harry hadn’t considered he might have to deal with.

Lucifer’s new abode is similar in size and shape, the only major difference Harry notices being the colour scheme. In his previous dwelling, the Devil had an ironically mild decor, however the deep red and black walls in this interior is the first thing Harry sees, and it unnerves him some.

The fact he’s managed to find Lucifer’s residence without asking and has ambled in with entitlement does cross his mind, but Harry thinks he might get away with it when the demon in question spots him from his gaudy throne and flashes a disturbing smile with open arms.

“Harry Styles. What a wonderful surprise.”

“Hello,” he says, hands making their way behind his back in a subconscious stance.

“I don’t believe you’re supposed to be here but you are a sight for sore eyes.” Lucifer smiles, unabashed.

Harry hesitates, “Sorry… I’m looking for someone. I was led here.”

Lucifer hums, “You’re a good tracker,” and then clicks his fingers a few times, eyes never leaving Harry.

A man steps into the room. A man that Harry recognises. A man that Harry’s fists recognise. Surely not. That was nearly eighty years ago… 

They lock eyes and the demon’s suddenly fill with black. Harry matches him in defence, hands clenching by his side.

“You’re still a bully then,” Harry grits. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer sits back to enjoy the scene before him.

Zennith steps further into the room. “Funny… I don’t recall you being the one beaten to within an inch of his life.”

Harry laughs, “You’ve been hanging onto this for eighty years, have you? I didn’t even fucking know your name back then.”

He sees the frown on the demon’s face, before it’s quickly concealed. “No.” He’s sharp. “I moved on. Was happy to forget about the cunt who fucked up my face for his own enjoyment.” Harry clenches his teeth. “And then Boss was telling me about his latest fun… and your name was mentioned. Took me back, didn’t it?” His eyes glower. 

Harry is still processing that the demon before him that’s been causing him trouble is the kid he knocked out when he was nineteen (because he was shouting abuse at Harry, he feels is necessary to add). How pathetic he is to hold a grudge for nearly eighty years (may as well be one hundred if you round it up) and how entitled he seems. 

“I think you’re forgetting some details,” Harry grunts.

“Silence,” Zennith snaps, composure cracking, dark eyes close to producing fog. “Thought I would see how you were doing. See if you were still a depressed little loser. It’s been disappointing to see your disgustingly soft mingling with the humans. Even more disappointing that my friend was unable to have any fun before you vanquished him… That girl really is very pretty.”

Harry’s body tightens up at the sound of Zennith’s sleazy voice mentioning Y/N. He tries to act unbothered but anyone could see his anger double at the perverted nature of his comment.

“It’s a shame she likes you,” he sighs. “You must have your claws in real fuckin’ deep for that dream to have not worked. I’m sure you were there, watching it all happen.”

For a moment, Harry feels undeservedly grateful to Lucifer for not saying anything about the real reason Zennith’s magic didn’t work. But then he decides it wouldn’t matter either way.

Harry stalks towards the demon that might as well still be a little brat of a teenager—he has the mental capacity, that’s for sure. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen now, but I’m sure you won’t enjoy it.”

Zennith backs up with a laugh, eyes momentarily clearing with surprise, “What?” He tries to pretend it’s a windup—a silly, harmless prank. “It’s not that serious, man. Hardly worth going to all the trouble of a fight.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe if you’ll apologise for those things you said to me all that time ago, I’ll feel less murderous,” Harry goads.

“You fucking prissy, you want me to say sorry? You were a sad excuse for a demon then and you’re an even sadder one now.”

Harry hums, well and truly unaffected by the words of a demon who had to cower behind someone else as they did his dirty work, and traumatise a human girl through her dream, “No apology then?”

“Boss, are you gonna let him get away with this?” Zennith throws his hands up in the air, exasperatedly looking at Lucifer.

The Devil simply smiles—making no move to help at all—encouraging the chaos and showing no signs of concern for his employee. Zennith deflates then, with realisation that this could not go his way. The three of them all know that Harry overpowers, every day of the week. He did when he was nineteen, and he will at ninety-eight.

“What the fuck.” Zennith sighs, watching as Harry steps closer and closer. He’s lost his nerve.

ㅤㅤ

Harry thinks that maybe a torturous death is deserved, but all he really wants is to get it over and done with and return to Y/N—who is no doubt having her ear talked off by Niall.

So he makes it quick. Pins Zennith still with his monochromatic eyes—wonders what he’d been doing all this time to be so weak as his arms fall heavily by his sides—and feels as his skull splinters and shatters into pieces and pierces his brain. Watches as his body crumbles and turns to ash before it hits the ground; the pained sounds of the demon echoing throughout Lucifer’s lair before the deafening silence takes over.

Harry’s frowning, eyes closed to purge the image from his head and to try and remove himself from this mindset before he gets really dangerous.

“How debonair!” Lucifer claps. “I usually make so much mess but that… that was beautifully done.”

Harry doesn’t have the control to appease the Devil and his unreturned flirting right now. He hums.

“Shame though, I suppose. He was a good servant… someone will have to take his place.” Harry’s stomach drops and his eyes snap open. Shit. Lucifer is already smiling at him. No, no, no. “Come here.”

His footsteps are light as he makes his way over to Lucifer’s throne. Harry’s not sure he can feel his body at all. He stops in front of him, hands making their way behind his back once more.

“No. Right… here,” Lucifer points to his side. This is where I’ll be standing for the rest of my life, Harry thinks. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred years—

Lucifer presents his cheek, expectantly. Harry blanches. “Be a good demon and prove your loyalty,” he teases. Harry’s heart is beating rapidly, scared that at any moment he’ll be trapped, or killed, or that Y/N will become unsafe and Harry won’t be able to stop it. Hesitantly, he leans down, lips jutting out reluctantly as he forces himself to press a small and obviously uncomfortable kiss to the cheek of the ruler of Hell.

The demon looks accomplished when Harry steps back and clears his throat without saying a word, clearly basking in the glory of belittling and humiliating.

“Okay, off you go now.” Harry nearly chokes on his own saliva, the breath from his lungs forced out.

“I can leave?”

“Yes, yes, go on. I do hope I’ll see you again soon, Harry.”

Y/N likes Niall very much.

Understandably, at first she was unsure; their first meeting not ideal to say the least.. A stranger appears in your home whilst you’re not there and it unnerves you some, to say the least. But he’s kind—really kind. And he gets her hesitation; doesn’t try to force an overbearing friendship which ultimately has Y/N opening much quicker than she usually would.

Niall basks in the joy of getting to tell tales about Harry—things he’s never really been able to tell anyone before. And Y/N can see how much he loves having the upperhand between the two for once—revels in narrating sneaky embarrassing stories whilst Harry isn’t there to tell him off. Y/N finds herself giggling and gasping, leaning towards Niall and holding onto his every word. 

It feels good to know more about Harry. And his closest friend.

Niall doesn’t pry either, which is an instant relief to Y/N. He doesn’t prod, or poke, or demand answers—he just fills the silence with lighthearted conversation which is all Y/N could ask for right now.

There is a moment where quiet overtakes them and Y/N’s mind drifts, just a little.

“Hey,” Niall says gently, “don’t you worry about a thing,” he smiles softly. “Harry’s the toughest sod I know.”

Y/N smiles back, not quite reaching her eyes but she appreciates his words.

“You know, one time…” Niall starts off again, detailing a story involving Harry, three vampires, and a lot of bite wounds. (In hindsight, maybe that isn’t the best story to tell but Niall is only trying to demonstrate Harry’s toughness!)

“You gossiping about me?” A familiar drawl sounds from behind them. Y/N gasps and twists around on the sofa to see a very normal looking Harry standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She hesitates, aware of Niall’s presence, until Harry opens his arms out.

“Come ‘ere, Bambi,” he smiles with tired eyes.

Y/N scrambles over to him, content in his arms as they wrap around her and she buries her face into his chest, inhaling not-so-subtly. She misses the look Harry and Niall give one another, a clear understanding between the two. 

“You look… fine?” Y/N says when she pulls back.

Harry laughs easily, “Fine? You wanted me to come home bloody and bruised, did you?” His hands span across her waist.

“No!” She exclaims, “I was worried, is all. That you would be hurt.”

He smiles, brushing his thumbs against her. “Are you alright?”

Niall chirps up at the question, “Excuse me, we had a lovely time, didn’t we, Y/N?” She nods. “Are you alright?” he mocks, “she’s bloody great.”

“Okay, Niall, I’m sorry for asking, I’ll never doubt you again.” Harry sighs but it’s playful.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Y/N asks, big eyes looking up at him. His heart softens and he’d kiss her if his friend wasn’t watching.

“I’m just fine, like you said.”

They must hold eye contact for longer than they realise, as Niall clears his throat.

“Are you two alright if I…”

“Yeah, o’course,” Harry says, briefly tearing his eyes away from Y/N. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. Niall nods, smiling back, and then he’s gone.

“So… Niall was telling me some interesting things about you.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N watches as Harry gets on his knees, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms with no intention of being erotic as he starts to swill out the bathtub. 

But Y/N is a little overwhelmed. He’s here, and they’re together…she thinks. She’s not sure but she doesn’t want to ask—wonders if it’s a silly thing to ponder. For its blatancy or how preposterous it may be.

So she focuses on the one thing she does know—Harry’s ridiculous allure. She watches his back contract under his shirt, stretching the material when he leans over to turn the tap off and his biceps strain when he swishes the water around to clean the tub.

If Harry hears the steady increase of her heart rate then he doesn’t say anything. Only puts the plug in, turns on the hot tap, and generously pours her nicest bubble bath in. And when he stands up from the floor and turns to face her, his mouth is upturned at her swoony expression.

“Pupils a bit big, sweetheart,” he teases, fingers trailing up her arm.

Y/N scoffs, “No, they’re not,” but she has no other point to her argument and no willpower to try to find one. So instead she closes her eyes.

“Hey, don’t hide them from me.” Harry’s fingers digs into her waist and she squeals, eyes snapping back open. “Mine are bigger than yours anyway,” he smiles before he lets the whites and irises of his eyes disappear for just a second.

Y/N still finds herself to be fascinated by his ability to do that, among many other things. But she’s not scared—never scared. “Show off,” she whispers.

“Only because I’m trying to impress you,” Harry leans closer, a wry grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Y/N pushes against his chest, “You’re corny,” but she’s smiling too, and her palms don’t budge him one bit as he covers them with his own and pulls her in further. She’s elated to be here with him but she feels herself not quite knowing how to act.

Harry notices (of course he notices). “You’re on edge, huh?” He looks guilty as he strokes her arms. “Gonna let me take care of you now?” He nods towards the tub. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed as she agrees with a hum. “You’ve got nothing to worry about anymore, I promise, Bambi.”

“Will—” she hesitates, talking once Harry turns his back to make sure the water temperature is okay. He looks over his shoulder. “Will you get in with me?” She supposes there’s no reason to be bashful but a bath is intimate—would Harry want that?

He just smiles and bites back a mocking comment. “I was planning on it,” and Y/N really doesn’t know what’s come over her to feel so shy all of a sudden, because she’d wanted him to get in with her but now she feels silly for even asking! You’ve already seen each other naked! She thinks, desperate to pull herself together.

“You’re overthinking, hm? Working yourself up,” Harry gently prompts, suddenly looming over her, focusing all of her senses.

“Sorry,” Y/N frowns, looking at the floor. Harry doesn’t chastise her, just cups her face softly and angles her head up before pressing his lips to hers. It’s not tactical; not intended to go anywhere, which he makes obvious by keeping his mouth closed. He kisses slowly, leaves her with a soft noise as they part, and then does it again. And again. Until Y/N is sighing—much more relaxed.

Harry pushes his hand under her shirt to rest on her tummy that he’s found himself growing somewhat obsessed with. He leans away from her to pull the fabric up her body and Y/N lifts her arms to make it easier. As soon as it lands in the corner of the room, Harry is back to doting, warm hands sliding up and down Y/N’s arms, along her shoulders to cup her face, down her back, along her waist.

Y/N would say she feels sufficiently warmed up already but Harry continues, kissing her innocently again as his hands move to push down her trousers, fiddling with the button. Y/N feels around for his own shirt, timidly pulling it up to reveal his broad back. Harry peels it over his head and in turn she steps out of her trousers.

“You’re so soft,” Harry whispers against her mouth, lips pouting to press another mindless kiss. His hands are eager to touch every inch of her skin. And soon enough they’re both clad in only underwear, Y/N huddling closer to Harry’s chest when he unclips her bra. “Ready to get in?” He asks, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N can feel every part of Harry against her back as she relaxes into his hold and it’s perhaps the most intimate moment of her life. She’s had sex less close than this. The thick of his thighs encasing her own, the span of his hands wandering her body—lathering her in soap—the feel of his hard chest and the softer parts of his tummy and hips, and the sure hardening of him against her.

Her head was surely muddled before they’d undressed, but now Y/N is confident she is a touch away from just floating off like a feather in the wind. Harry coats her skin in bubbles, encouraging in the way he coaxes her head onto his shoulder. When he dunks the sponge in the water and brings it back up to wash the foam away, Y/N’s breath hitches as the droplets hit her nipples and she feels Harry’s cheek squish up into a small smile.

“Breathe,” he speaks, turning his face into her temple. Y/N exhales shakily, nuzzling into him and Harry lays a delicate press of his lips between her brows before continuing his ministrations. “Are you feeling relaxed?” He asks, already aware of the answer. When Y/N nods hastily, Harry hums, “Not relaxed enough…” the words brushing against her skin, “I think I can do better.”

Gently, he lets the sponge float on the surface, replacing it with his hands as he runs his nails down her arms. Y/N’s chest is rising and falling at an obvious speed and her eyes are struggling to stay open; the anticipation affecting her considerably. “Would you feel better if I touched you…” his hands hover over her breasts, “...here?” He squeezes them far too softly but Y/N still lets out a noise—one that intensifies when Harry tugs and rolls her nipples between his fingers. “Is that nice, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Y/N exhales, unable to concentrate on anything other than the thrumming of her body.

“Are you g’na watch how good I make you feel?” He prompts, nudging her with his nose. Y/N feels like her eyes are glued shut but she makes the effort to peel them open, tilting her chin down to see Harry’s big hands cupping her. She feels a wave roll inside of her. “There’s a good girl,” he praises, and the wave gets bigger. She never tries harder than when he says those words. “You tell me, baby, what do you want me to do?”

Y/N’s never been asked that before. “Whatever you want,” she says to him; not for the first time.

“No,” Harry asserts, “what do you do when you’re alone, hm? How many fingers do you squeeze inside yourself?”

And Y/N would be scorching with embarrassment usually but the arousal she feels overpowers it. Though it’s still hard to speak, “I don’t— m’fingers aren’t long enough—o-or I’m just not good. Doesn’t do anything.”

She may as well have shot Niall right in front of Harry, the way he gasps. It’s mocking, of course, but he sounds genuinely dissatisfied with her answer. “That’s so sad, Bambi. Pretty pussy like yours should be getting stuffed full and satisfied.” His hands are still playing with her tits, running back and forth over the pebbled peaks, and squeezing the flesh which aids the pant she lets out from his erotic words. “You want me to teach you?” Y/N shakes her head no, too desperate for Harry’s touch. “No? You want my fingers?” She’s quick to agree as he trails a hand down her body, over her ribs, and her tummy, and her mound—daring to dip lower.

“Please?”

“Mm, mine are much longer and thicker than yours, aren’t they?” His other hand pinches her nipple and Y/N arches her back as her hips struggle to coax Harry lower. “Nothing in comparison to my cock though, Bambi. How are you g’na take me if you don’t even fuck yourself with your fingers, hm?”

“I will, I will!” She rushes out. “I can take you. Please touch me, Harry.” Y/N turns her face into his jaw and sponges open-mouthed kisses wherever she can reach.

“We’ll make it fit, won’t we?” Harry presses down on her clit and Y/N moans into his skin, nodding unabashedly. He travels lower to gather the wetness between her thighs. And Harry knows they’re submerged in water but the thick substance that coats his fingers is unmistakable—he wishes he could lap it up.

Harry’s cock is stiff against Y/N’s back and each time she arches and rests back against it, he sighs into her ear; pretty and provoked. She is thrumming—vibrating with want—never had anyone edge her so close to orgasming by hardly touching her. Her hands lay useless on Harry’s knees, subconsciously gripping him when he starts circling her clit with intent.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he orders, overly aware of her every move. It’s hard, not to just lay back and feel but Y/N keeps her eyes as open as possible, watching the flex of Harry’s wrist and the movement of his fingers over her. Her abdomen starts to flutter as he builds her up but Harry takes his hand away before she can start to give into it.

Y/N wants to whine and whinge but then his hand returns lower, fingers circling her entrance before he dips a single one inside. And his really are much longer and thicker than hers because it already feels better than when she tries and he’s only got one finger in.

Slowly, does Harry enter her, allowing for the adjust before deliciously curling and hitting the spongy place inside that has Y/N gasping and tightening her grip on Harry’s knees. She instinctively clenches around him; Harry has to bite back a tease about how desperate her body is and draws his finger back and forth inside of her warmth. Her eyes close for less than a second but in that time he pulls out of her and she snaps them back open, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it’s not necessary, as Harry sinks in a second finger beside the first and stretches her out some. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, but one of immense fullness and warm buzzing throughout her tummy as he perfectly stimulates her with every curl and drive.

“Y’squeezing me so tight,” Harry says, voice gravelly—turned on—as the hand holding Y/N’s breast moves down to her stomach to readjust and pull her tighter against him. She gazes at the vastness of his hand on her body and then to the one moving inside of her and another wave passes and pulsates between her legs and around Harry’s fingers as he speeds up, thumb stretching to pass over her clit in focused circles. “You’re g’na feel so good around my cock, Bambi,” he twitches against her back. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” Y/N mewls, body pushing into Harry’s hands. “You’ll let me, won’t you?” His breath is warm against her neck.

“Yes, anything,” she sighs, hand finding his and desperately gripping. He interlocks their fingers against her tummy as he starts to press contrastingly precious kisses to her jaw and neck. Y/N’s so close her body is tensing up in anticipation. “Please, please, please.”

“I’ve got you, come on, baby. Come f’me,” he litters kisses between breaths and Y/N is so close, so close. Throws her head back and lets her eyes shut—and Harry allows it, occupied by the stretch of her neck as he licks and sucks and rubs and fucks her until his fingers are being squeezed impossibly tight and she’s coming around him. She lets out the prettiest of noises, writhing in his grip as he guides her through her orgasm and his dick starts to become demanding the more she moves and moans, her body against him feeling like the softest of velvets or silks. 

But he ignores it; ignores everything but Y/N.

She blindly searches for his kiss, body melting in bliss as she comes down from the intense heights of pleasure. Mewling and sighing into him with each press of their open mouths. His fingers stay inside of her, reveling in the subtle but sure pulses she gives, unable to resist the urge of curling them a little to make her jump in his arms.

“You’ll become greedy for that,” he mutters against her lips before nibbling her bottom one and pulling back to look into her satisfied eyes—big and moony, just for him.

She hums, unashamed in her post-orgasmic haze. “Is it your turn now?”

ㅤㅤ

Harry wanted to devour her whole as soon as those words left her mouth—wanted to push her back and have his way with her. But the bath water was cooling, and their skin was getting all pruned, and realistically Harry knew that fucking her for the first time would not be happening in the tub. She deserved better than to be pounced upon in a claustrophobic box.

And Harry was already good at ignoring his needs so what difference would five minutes make?

He kisses her with a smile on his face, slowly pushing upwards to get out of the tub. Her gaze follows him hungrily, lips threatening to pout if he doesn’t start paying attention to her again immediately. But he gathers a towel and helps her out, wrapping her up—delicately and thoroughly drying her body. It’s hard for Harry not to swaddle her completely and smother her face in kisses but he resists.

Teasingly, he wanders her backwards towards her bedroom, towel still pressed to her body; watching how hard Y/N is trying not to make a fuss. He thinks she’s doing a pretty good job until he realises her true intentions, seemingly forgetting the speed of Harry’s reflexes. When the edge of Y/N’s bed touches her calf, she attempts to spin around—the motivation of pushing him down irresistible in her head. She barely turns a fraction, however, before Harry’s hand is clamping around her bicep and squashing their fronts together.

“No,” Y/N whines, “I was trying to be sexy.”

“You’re very sexy,” Harry smiles, nose dropping to rub against hers.

“But—” 

Harry knows what she wants. He also knows how prettily she begs for him, and how easily too. Thinks he wants to push that button a little.

“What does my needy baby want?”

Though it seems he’s underestimated her on this occasion, as she tries very hard to display bratty behaviour and stand her ground. Y/N crosses her arms across her chest, ripping the towel from Harry’s grasp to cover up by herself.

“You don’t wanna tell me?” He tries, wondering how quickly he’ll be able to dismantle her walls. When Y/N shakes her head, he ups his game. “S’not very nice, is it? Made you come on my fingers but you won’t be good f’me?” Her heart drops a little, guilt seeping in. But she won’t beg. She won’t.

“I—”

“I was gonna be so nice to you, little thing. Make you come around my cock until you couldn’t think straight… but if you can’t even tell me what you want then I guess you won’t get anything, huh.”

She’s gripping the towel so tightly, knuckles bulging. “I am… good,” she tries, eyes falling down to his nakedness. It looks near painful. All she wants is to taste him.

Harry hums, “You usually are. Where’s she gone? My good girl.” He covers her hands, removing them from the towel so he can tug her closer. “Just tell me what you want, baby. Always so pretty when you beg.” Harry dips down, pushing the towel to the floor as his lips meet her neck and his hands slide across her ribs, thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She’s done for; never stood a chance. Not really. She squeaks as he grazes his teeth along her skin. “I want you… in my mouth… please.” The words come out breathy, shallow. But they’re hardly desperate.

“You can do better than that,” Harry says, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Prove that you want it.”

And her shyness has returned some—so it’s harder for her—but she shuffles closer, palms gliding up his biceps. “I wanna… make you feel good. The way you do for me,” she whispers. And it’s so soft, Harry can’t help but be taken aback. It wasn’t begging in the way he was used to but his heart swells. “You deserve it all the time. Please let me.”

“All the time?” Harry smiles. “You want my cock in your mouth all the time?”

“Yes,” Y/N breathes, looser now. “Please?”

And who was he to say no? When she thought he deserved it so much.

Harry moves to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching behind him to grab one of her pillows to stuff under her knees as she kneels down. He strokes her hair, tucking it behind her ears and gathering it in his hands before it can fall around her face. Y/N rests her cheek on his knee, eyes glued to his shiny, red tip as it stands against his stomach.

“You trying to tease me, Bambi?” He tugs her hair a little.

“No…” she bites her lip to hide the smile, coyly looking up at him.

He doesn’t have to reply because Y/N’s leaning forward and licking a broad stripe along the entirety of him, eliciting a sigh from Harry as he watches her intently. She brings a hand up, angling him towards her mouth so she can kiss at his head, tongue darting out to taste the salty precome that’s spilling out of his slit. The grip in her hair tightens when she starts to suckle at him—she goes crazy for it, humming around his cock as she starts to move her hand up and down around him.

His noises have her thighs squeezing together; low and rumbling. Y/N knows they get higher in pitch the closer he is to coming and she is determined to get him there.

“Take me deeper,” Harry demands, hand wrapping around his base to encourage her. “Know you can.”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums around him, letting her jaw drop for Harry to feed his cock into her mouth. She can’t take all of him, but she tries all the same. Flutters her eyes shut and focuses on breathing through her nose as she drags her tongue along the underside of him and works whatever she can’t fit with her hand. When she starts to bob her head in coordinated movements and sucks her cheeks in, Harry’s abs tense and his head falls back on his shoulders.

“Hot little mouth,” he manages to say through a moan. “Made for me… made for my cock, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” When she hums again and the vibrations shoot through him, he bucks slightly, gagging her on him. Y/N retracts sharply but her insides still flip-flop about. “Fuck,” Harry groans, pulling her off him by her hair. Her hand doesn’t stop as she catches her breath. “Sorry, baby, feels so good.”

Her rounded out eyes look at him like he’d carved the Earth for her personally. She really would let him do anything.

“You wanna make me come?” He strokes her cheek as she nods. “Go on then. Make me come and then I’ll put my cock in you.” Harry relishes in the way Y/N’s eyebrows cinch together at the excitement and desperation, and her thighs squeeze impossibly tight as she takes him back into her mouth. She has a newfound determination, taking him as far down her throat as she can go before withdrawing to take a deep breath and then continuing. Her hand twists and squeezes, moving up to thumb at his drippy head when she leans back to breathe—and Harry’s chest is heaving more and more, eyes slipping in and out of their demonic state as she works him.

It’s when she leans back down as start tonguing at his frenulum that Harry moans and twitches, leaking out and into her mouth. “Yeah—yes, fuck. Keep going.” A whine gets caught in his throat as his head falls forward, chin touching his chest and his jaw loose. They make eye contact as she stretches her lips back around his tip, sucking and licking—so desperate to taste his come. And he’s close, moans after every breath and struggles keeping his hips down.

“G’na come,” Harry whines. “G’na come down your throat.” Y/N mewls around him, sinking further down and speeding up her hand until she starts to feel the warm spurts filling her mouth. Harry’s noises make her spine tingle as he praises her, “Good girl— swallow it all—so good. Fuck,” hands threading gently through her hair as he comes down.

ㅤㅤ

He barely softens, grateful for his demon stamina because he thinks he might drop dead if he doesn’t get inside Y/N in an instant. “Come ‘ere,” he says with a rumble, pulling her up by her underarms until she’s straddling Harry’s hips. His cock rubs against the both of them, spreading saliva and precome across their stomachs. Y/N surges forward, catching his mouth in desperation as she grinds down, angling herself to rub her wetness against his dick.

“In,” she whines against his lips, clit perfectly stimulated as she humps him. “Want it in now, please.”

Harry strokes his tongue against hers, licking into her like she’s made of honey whilst he takes a hold of himself, smearing her arousal as he paints his head through her folds. Y/N gasps, hips stuttering when she feels his thick mushroom tip prod against her entrance.

“Relax f’me, baby. Breathe nice and slow.” She listens, inhaling as deep as she can as she slowly lowers down. The stretch of him is nearly overwhelming but it’s delicious and her hands have to shoot out for grounding, one landing on Harry’s shoulder and the other cupping his cheek. He tilts his face into it, pressing a soft kiss to the spongy part of her palm. “That’s good,” he whispers as he gets deeper and deeper inside of her, “you’re so beautiful.” Y/N’s eyes squeeze shut with emotion, forehead dropping against Harry’s.

He’s fully inside her now and Y/N is sitting on him, adjusting to the feel and trying not to squirm. Harry starts teasing again once he feels her begin to grind her clit against his pelvis. “You gonna ride me?” Y/N nods, lifting up slightly before dropping back down. “You think your wobbly little legs will be able to cope with that, Bambi?” Harry grins, pushing forward to kiss her open mouth.

“I can do it,” Y/N whimpers, lifting up further. “I can.” She drops back down harder, moaning at the feeling of Harry hitting that spot inside of her. He maintains much more composure than she does, looking at her through his lashes as she starts to bounce up and down, and sliding his palms across her back.

“Am I filling you up good?” Y/N whines, nodding. “Told you we’d make it fit, didn’t I? Taking me so well, baby.” And he places a hand on her lower stomach, pressing in slightly with a smirk on his face. “Can you feel me here?”

“Uh-huh, so big,” Y/N moans, looking down to see his large hand span across her.

“G’na make you feel empty without me,” Harry promises, leaning down to take one of Y/N’s breasts into his mouth, sucking a mark into her skin. Her thighs are already starting to burn—each movement harder than the last as their bodies slap against one another.

“Harry,” Y/N mewls, hands threading through his hair. He hums into her chest, moving to her other breast and giving it the same treatment. His hands hold tightly onto her waist, assisting her movements up and down on his cock more and more until he finally leans back.

“You need my help now, don’t you? Told you you couldn’t do it, little thing.” Y/N frowns, grip tightening in Harry’s hair. “Just need me to take care of you.”

“Please,” she begs—for what exactly she’s not sure but Harry knows what she needs.

Confidently, Harry grips the underside of Y/N’s thighs, shuffling back on the bed so he can pull his knees up. She doesn’t get long enough to prepare before Harry starts fucking up into her with no warning. Y/N struggles, but she manages to throw her arms around his neck, hiding her face into the side of his as he pounds into her—the harsh clapping sounds of their bodies hitting each other echoing throughout the room.

She’s so wet, it’s surprising that there isn’t a puddle on Harry’s abdomen as he holds her up and drives his cock into her again, and again. Y/N is a mess of noise, mouth stuck open and whimpering into Harry’s skin as he fucks her until she can’t think of anything else.

“My little human just takes whatever I give her, huh?” His deep, punctuated voice mixed with mocking words sends her already muddled brain into even more of a tizzy.

“Only you—feels so good,” Y/N manages to cry. “I’m g’na—”

“—Look at me,” Harry weaves a hand through her hair and pulls her out of his neck. “Look at me when I make you come. All over my cock, yeah?”

“Yes—yes, all over,” Y/N keeps her half-lidded eyes on him; a monumental struggle when Harry moves his hand from her hair to her clit, rubbing messily over her. His pounding subsides none, getting harder if anything—going balls deep with every thrust—and all she wants is to collapse into him but she doesn’t look away, despite how kinked her brows become and how much her body screams at her to throw her head back.

It hits her staggeringly, eyes fighting to roll into the back of her head as she cries out and squeezes Harry’s cock, orgasm stifling her. He slows down his thrusts, hands rubbing soothingly into her back as she mindlessly whimpers his name.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he tenderly adjusts them, flipping her onto her back so she can melt into the mattress. “Have you got one more? Can you give me one more, baby?” He asks, her cunt still pulsating around him.

“Slow,” Y/N whispers, eyes blurry, “please.”

Harry leans down, pressing sweet kisses to her forehead, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, hips pushing into her breathtakingly slowly. A lazy smile overtakes her features as Harry dotes on her, pouting up at him with a spacey expression. He complies easily, moulding his lips to hers. It’s gentle, the sound their mouths make as they part—Harry traces his thumb across her bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it snap back up before licking her open and feeding her his tongue.

It’s hard for Y/N to muster up the strength enough to kiss him back, and her reactions are delayed, but Harry doesn’t mind; happy to be so close. 

And in a moment of vulnerability he quietly asks, “You really want me?”

Y/N knows he’s not talking about sex, bringing a leaden hand up to his face and stroking his cheek. “More than anything, Harry.”

His heart inflates ten times the size of his chest, he’s sure—he’s never known anything to feel so good, but Y/N was his person, and she wanted him.

Harry’s orgasm approaches rapidly at her words, and he’s desperate to get Y/N there again, hand trailing down her body to find her puffy clit. She jumps at the feeling.

“Shh, I know you’re sensitive, baby. Just need one more,” he kisses her again. “Be good f’me and then I’ll give you my come.” Y/N whines, trying to turn her head into the mattress. “Where would you like it? On your tits? Your ass?” He thrusts in harder. “I think I’d like it on your tummy, what d’you think?”

“Yes,” Y/N moans, unspecific in her agreement.

Harry laughs. “You don’t think anything, do you? Just lay there all pretty and let me do all the hard work.” His hips snap against her harder and harder—pace still slow but he’s hitting her spongy spot unquestionably as Y/N grips onto his biceps that bulge underneath her palms.

“Harry,” she cries, pussy starting to flutter around him.

He groans, “Fuck, squeeze my cock like that. You feel so good.”

He stretches down, taking her nipple into his mouth and tonguing over the pebbled peak. The sound of his balls thwacking against her ass reverberates, and Y/N’s moans compete for volume as she contracts tighter, and tighter around him. 

“Y’my person, en’t that right?” He circles her clit faster.

Y/N nods, neck stretching as she turns her head about against the sheets. Desperately, she grasps at his back, silently begging for his closeness. Harry drops down, hand trapped between them awkwardly but the weight of him delights her considerably as he hits deeper inside of her.

“Yours,” she exhales. “Please come, Harry.”

His hips stutter, nearly shooting right inside of her. “You first, baby.” Harry speeds up his hand and rolls her other nipple between his teeth. “Soak me.”

Y/N clamps down around him, tightness hurling Harry closer, as she comes for the third time that night. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, so exhausted but so blissful. Her nails dig into his skin and he relishes in the sharp pain, pulling his hand away to coax his wet fingers into her mouth. 

Watching Y/N’s satisfied expression as she cleans his fingers is enough to make Harry come, pulling out of her quickly and fisting his hand over his cock a couple of times before he’s painting her stomach white. He groans, head hanging low with his eyes fighting to stay locked with Y/N’s.

And then he’s flopping down on top of her, uncaring of the come he’s lying on. He’ll get up in a minute, find a washcloth and clean them both up, before gathering her up in his arms and praying to God (if he has to) that this isn’t a dream.

He thinks that after eighty years of killing and feeling like he’d found his purpose, that his life has new meaning now. That this is what he was meant to do. That Y/N is his purpose.

ㅤㅤ

“Harry?” Her soft voice pulls him from his head and he pushes back just enough to look down at her sleepy face. “I’m so happy,” she smiles, “and I’m so glad Imogen is a useless angel.”

He laughs, from deep within his chest, and leans down to smear their lips together—unable to kiss her for long without breaking into a smile—before pulling back and whispering against her forehead.

“Me too, Bambi, me too.”

#harry styles #demonrry #demon!harry #vanilla lime #writing #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles demon

[jjunieworld]

21. half alive ⸝ ˚⋆

↳ mainly written, some texts. word count: 1.9k

the first thing you realized when you woke up was not the fact that you were in a foreign room and weren’t sure how you got there, but the fact that your head was absolutely killing you.

you looked around the empty room and found that you were on a couch. sitting up almost took you back out. your head spun so badly and the bright daylight wasn’t helping at all.

there were two pills, a bottle of water, and a note on the table in front of you. take both as soon as you wake up, you’re gonna need it. i confiscated your bottle, read the note. you did as you were told as you tried to remember how you got here, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose.

suddenly last night's events came flooding back into your mind like a hurricane. it hit you so hard you sat back on the couch and banged your head off the wall behind it. you were alone in taehyun’s dorm.

you let out a sigh as you went to stand. you were definitely hungover.

it took you a while to get back to your dorm, thankfully the hallways were empty. you really wished you brought a jacket with you. you were still in your birthday dress and heels from yesterday and it was not fun to try and get around in.

before you even got to walk fully through the door to your room you were immediately taken into the arms of your friends. “jesus, y/n. you scared the shit out of us. please don’t ever do that again,” kai said.

you were guided to your bed. “i’m sorry,” you replied. you suddenly felt like you were gonna cry again. as you looked around at your friends, you saw that their eyes were red and it looks like they didn’t sleep a wink all night.

“don’t be sorry. none of this is your fault,” said yeonjun.

“where were you?” yunjin asked. you recalled the events after you ran as best as you could with your clouded brain. after, there was a moment of silence. you apologized again.

“y/n… it’s okay,” jake said. you leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes briefly. you didn’t keep them closed for long. everytime you shut your eyes you saw that video. you saw everyone smiling at you, sakura’s words. and worst of all, you saw him. the look of horror on his face and the way his voice cracked when he finally spoke to you.

you dug the heels of your palms into your eyes, forgetting about the fact that you were still wearing makeup.

you pulled out your phone and turned it on as your friends spoke between each other.

“it turns out everyone on the fourth floor of the party were in on the whole thing,” jake started. “one of my classmates showed me the invitations sakura sent out. the next time i see her im gonna kill her.” you breathed deeply at that.

“i should’ve smacked the shit out of her too while i had the chance,” yunjin added. you turned to her, a puzzled look on your face.

“oh yeah, y/nie! soobin got tore the fuck up!” kai exclaimed, you flinched a little. not just from hearing his name but also because your head was still pounding. “sorry… redacted…” kai trailed off.

jake turned to you. “yeah! after you left, yunjin went up and smacked the shit out of him and then right after yeonjun just went in on him. his face is all fucked up.” you raised your eyebrows a little in shock and amusement.

“he deserved it, i would’ve done more if those fucking security guards didn’t pull me off,” yeonjun said.

before you got to reply, your phone finally finished turning on and a floodgate of notifications poured through. most of them were from your friends. two notifications stood out to you, one of them was a post on twitter sakura tagged you in.

you opened it and froze. yunjin took the phone from your hands and looked at it. a furious expression crossed her features. “that fucking bitch.” she showed it to the others and their faces went sour too.

you took your phone back from her and look through your notifications. you had a slew of texts from soobin that you decided you weren’t gonna look at right now. there was a new post from his twitter, which you had forgotten you had the notifications on for. it was song lyrics, with another tweet added that was for you. you inhaled sharply as you began scrolling through his social media, scouring it to see if there was some type of hint about everything that you’ve missed.

you didn’t get far. jake took your phone from you, claiming that going through his social media is just gonna do more harm than good. he was right, but your mind was still at unease. he scrolled through your phone a little and then sat it down.

“he’s blocked on everything now. you don’t have to worry about it,” jake said. you just nodded in response.

you reached up to touch your face to find that you were crying. your friends pulled you into a group hug and you cried even harder.

“i just… i just want to understand why…” you choked out through sobs. you felt your back being rubbed. “why would he do this to me?”

your friends let you cry your heart out for a while until you were too numb and too tired to shed anymore tears. your makeup was completely ruined now, not that it wasn’t already bad before. you didn’t care as you ran your hands over your face and saw them streaked with black after.

“i should’ve convinced you not to go to that party…” yeonjun suddenly said. his eyes were downcast and his knuckles were white as he held the hem of his shirt. you saw that there was dried blood on them.

“jjunie…” you trailed, shaking your head. he cut you off, “no. you wouldn’t be in the situation if i had. you wouldn’t have disappeared the whole night if i had.”

“if it never happened, we’d all be oblivious to the truth,” you spoke. hueningkai nodded in agreement. you dropped to the floor and leaned over and gave him a hug. “it’s nobody’s fault.”

“nobody’s but redacted’s…” yunjin muttered. you let out a sigh.

“i should've known something like this was gonna happen. i should’ve fucking known.” yeonjun spoke, slamming his hand on the ground. he leaned his head back on the boxspring of the bed. “they literally did something similar to me and i still didn’t see it coming until it was too late.”

you furrowed your brows at him. you still didn’t know the history he has with soobin and his friends.

“back when i was friends with them,” yeonjun started, “we were all really close, or so i thought. we were all planning on going to the same college, not this one, but a different one.” he rubbed his eyes as he sighed.

“the dean was a family friend of mine and so i said i’d put in a good word for them. once i praised them to the high fucking heavens it’s like a switch flipped. they used me. and after… after, they made sure everywhere i went a bad reputation followed me. it was a miracle i even got into this college.”

you held a hand to your mouth as he spoke. yeonjun let out a wry laugh, “and when my applications got declined and the dean stopped speaking to me and my family… it was all for nothing. all for them to end up right here at the same college as me. acting like they run the shit.”

you scooted over to where yeonjun sat and gave him a hug. your friends joined in with you. “i’m really sorry jjunie,” you said softly. he just shook his head a little.

“it’s in the past now. there’s nothing i can do to change it.” you all pulled away as he stood. “so, what’s the plan for today to get your mind off yesterday?” yeonjun asked.

standing to your feet, you held on to the edge of the bed for support. “i need to shower,” you announced. you felt disgusting and heavy with emotion. you needed a nice, long, hot shower to scrub yesterday’s events off of you. “and a nap.” you added.

your friends stood as well. “do you want us to wait here until you get out?” kai asked. you shook your head. “no, that’s okay. i really need a nap. and by the looks of it, you guys need one too.” your friends let out some small laughs.

“are you sure you want to be alone right now? we really don’t mind,” yunjin said. you nodded, “i’ll be okay, at least for the moment. go get some sleep and you can come back over if you want after or something.”

they reluctantly agreed and gave you one last hug before leaving your room. you sighed as you went to take a hot shower. you scrubbed your body raw and washed yourself over and over until you finally felt clean. you felt half alive as you moved around your room.

you froze as you were going to get dressed. one of soobin’s hoodies sat on top of your clothes. he must’ve accidentally left it when the two of you went to yeonjun’s yesterday. you brought it up to your face and inhaled. it still smelled like him.

sighing, you slipped in on and climbed in your bed, which also still smelled like him. you hated the fact that it brought you comfort. you reached for your phone and opened it.

you couldn’t even say he was the last person you wanted to see right now, because that would be a lie. despite everything that has happened, everything he’s done, he was still the person you wanted to see the most right now. and that broke you. all you could do right now was scroll through your camera roll and look at all the pictures and videos of the two of you, silently crying.

you wrapped the hoodie closer around yourself and buried your face down into it. all you could think about is the last time you laid in your bed. your bodies wrapped around each other. soobin telling you he loves you.

was it all a lie? all part of this elaborate plan? you went over all the moments you shared with him until you got to the very beginning.

did he even actually need your help that day? or was he just trying to make some money?

you scoffed to yourself. apparently, all you were worth to him was five hundred dollars and a quick fuck.

tears fell from your eyes. you made yourself open the messages he sent you last night.

i swear to you i’ve meant everything i’ve said to you.

bullshit. it was all just a fucking lie. you should’ve known. you should’ve fucking known. when has anything ever worked out for you?

at some point between your racing thoughts and mind numbing headache, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

masterlist.

summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.

A/N: now playing: supercut by lorde 😞

taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene @spooksh0wbabe (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)

— kipo <3

#📼 — ALL FOR A BET ⸝ ˚⋆ #txt #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt social media au #txt smau #txt beomgyu #txt huening kai #txt soobin #txt yeonjun #txt taehyun #choi soobin smau #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #soobin x y/n #soobin #kpop smau #kpop social media au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop #le sserafim yunjin #le sserafim sakura #enhypen jake sim #enhypen sunghoon #tomorrow x together social media au #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together #kpop x reader

[nyrandrea]

Hi! I’m the person who asked about a FAQ, I think this should linger in your boundaries but please feel free to discard it if it makes you uncomfortable! May I request Astarion with a gender neutral reader who’s interested in being intimate, but only wants to do something for him and has no interest in the favor being returned? I’m not sure if that counts as heavy smut so please let me know if it does! I just love the idea of Astarion being spoiled by someone who only cares about his pleasure and enjoyment. Can be early or late relationship!

Heyy so this probably isn't exactly what you had in mind but writing smut isn't quite my forte (I compensated with lots of cuddling) I hope you still like it though! Takes place during early-ish relationship.

TW for light smut and descriptions of blood drinking

Word Count: 1.2k

Enjoy!

xxx

In the soft, dim glow of the bedroom, the world outside faded into obscurity. With a gentle sigh, you nestled into Astarion's arms, finding solace in the coolness of his embrace. Your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, a perfect, seamless connection. 

As you lay there, the world felt still, and time itself seemed to slow down. Your head rested on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing as his fingers traced soft, delicate patterns on your back. 

Outside, raindrops tapped lightly on the window, a soothing background melody to their own as a soft, golden halo of moonlight bathed the room in its tender glow. 

“You’re still awake,” Astarion said, turning his head lazily towards you. “You should sleep, dawn is nearly upon us.” 

“’I’m trying,” you replied. “Can’t stop thinking.” 

“About...?” 

“Just... everything.” 

Your heart was heavy, burdened with the weight of your fears, like a fragile porcelain vase teetering on the edge of a precipice. You yearned to reach out, to open the floodgates of your apprehensions, but the words remained captive within you. 

Beside you, Astarion’s eyes reflected the flickering candlelight, seemingly oblivious to the tempest raging within you until he extended his hand, fingers brushing against yours, and in that touch, you found solace, his unwavering support evident without uttering a single word.  

It was almost like he could feel your heartache, your inner turmoil, and he was there, ready to bear the weight with you. 

But for now, the words eluded you, trapped behind the dam of your own apprehensions. 

“Then how about...,” Astarions hand tilted your head towards him. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as his slender fingers brushed along your cheekbone until they reached the tip of your chin. “I provide a distraction...?” 

He had that devilish smile that made your heart flutter, and it played on his lips as he leaned in closer, his breath barely brushing against your ear, and whispered words that sent tingles down your neck, “Let me ease your stress, even if only for a moment.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, and your cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as you tried to maintain composure.  

Suddenly a grimace formed on his face as he pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose. A surge of panic jabbed through your gut as you scrambled to sit up.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“Sorry,” Astarion said quickly. “Just a little dizzy, that’s all.” 

“When was the last time you ate something?” you asked. 

“If I was to hazard a guess, nearly two-hundred years ago now,” Astarion replied, smirking at the dry look you gave him. “I remember my last meal vividly: sea bass in a garlic and vegetable broth, it was... exquisite.” 

The sharpness of his grin dulled a bit, and his eyes glazed over. You put a hand on his shoulder to bring him back. 

“When was the last time you had any blood?” you specified. 

“Five... days ago, I think.” 

You almost slapped yourself. Of course it had been that long. Because you had decided it would be best for the team to stay at an inn for a few extra nights to allow everyone a proper rest. But that meant no fighting, which meant no bodies for Astarion to feed on.  

There weren’t even any wild animals within the vicinity of the inn, unless you counted the stray cat that wandered about. You had noticed Astarion making a fuss of the little fellow a few times; he had something of a soft spot for felines. 

You instantly drew back the collar of your shirt, exposing your neck. “Here.” 

Astarion smiled softly. “I’m touched, darling, but I’m not going to keel over anytime soon. Besides...” 

He cupped your face and smiled seductively. “We have other needs that must be attended to...” 

“What? No,” you pull back and offer your neck again. “You must be starving.” 

“Well, I... suppose I am a little hungry but...,” Astarion pauses, his eyes darting over you as if he was panicking. “Y-you mean you don’t want to...?” 

“I want to,” you reassure. “But you’re hungry, and your needs come before anything else, you... do know that, don’t you?” 

For once, he was the one who looked flustered instead of you; his nostrils flared, and his fingers dug into the bed sheets. But it was only a brief reaction as his suave collectedness soon took back over. 

“Well then, only if you insist,” Astarion conceded. “But I see no reason why we can’t mix business and pleasure together, hmm?” 

You trembled slightly as elongated fangs glinted like polished ivory as Astarion lowered his head towards your neck. Time seemed to slow, and every heartbeat echoed in the stillness of the night. 

The first brush of his lips sent shivers down your spine, an icy caress that teased of what was to come. Then, in a moment of exquisite agony and ecstasy, his fangs punctured the skin, drawing forth your blood. Your silent gasp was all the permission he needed to keep going. 

As Astarion drank, your blood pumped wildly and flowed freely, a macabre symphony of lust and sustenance. The world spun in a vortex of pleasure and pain, your bodies intermingling in a dance as ancient as time itself. It was a union of predator and prey, of darkness and light. 

His eyes glowed with an unholy hunger, the elixir of your life invigorating them, granting vitality. And as the last drop was savoured, your strength waned, the world dimming like a fading ember. Astarion watched you with a tender concern etched across his face as he wiped the blood that trickled from his lips. 

“I... thank you,” he said. “I suppose you were right; I really did need to feed, more than I thought.” 

“It’s okay,” you smiled sleepily. “Just ask me, next time, alright...? I’ll always... help you out...” 

He smiles down at you and brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “Such a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” 

With a voice as soft as a whispered secret, he murmured words of comfort, like a sweet melody designed solely for your ears and gently wrapped his arms around you. His touch was like a soothing balm, calming the storm within you. 

You nestled in the crook of his arms as your eyelids, heavy with the weight of drowsiness, began their slow descent. 

Astarion pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, a gesture of reassurance, and held you just a little tighter, as if to shield you from the weariness that threatened to consume you. In his arms, you found the strength to let go, to release the weight of the day and surrender to the tranquillity of his presence. 

“Sleep, my dearest,” Astarion said. “I’ve got you.” 

With a contented sigh, you surrendered to the tender embrace of sleep, your dreams woven with the threads of your shared affection and the promise of a new day together.  

In that sacred space, surrounded by the quietude of the night, you found comfort in each other’s presence, knowing that, as long as you held one another, the world could wait for dawn. 

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

Request - Astarion tries to save you from kidnappers

Request - Astarion helps you to see that you're beautiful

Request - Astarion gets kidnapped

(think I might need to start getting a masterlist together at some point lol)

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #light smut #astarion x gender neutral reader #my writing #fanfiction #request

[olichat-reads]

Mrow | Part Four

Bakugou x roomate!reader

Summary: you finally get answers on how to break the quirk & return human

Words:

A/n: yall i fucked up :D this isn't the last chapter

Part Three

🌟

Zigzagging through the crowd you kept your eyes on your target, little legs racing as fast as they can, determined not to lose sight of what might be your key to undoing this quirk.

Having not notice the tiny ball of fur barelling towards her, the girl in question yelped in surprise as you launched yourself onto her leg, determined to latch on like a fucking leech until you had answers.

"Its you!" She cried out, big doe eyes looking down at you, snarling & fur bristling.

Yeah its me! Now turn me back human for the love of god!!

You honestly doubt a small furball yowling up at a full grown person was even the slightest bit threatening but the girl looked as if she might keel over in fear. Her wide eyes darted around to uncaring passerbys before returning to peer down at you.

"Please can we go somewhere less, um, crowded first?"

🌟

You ended up at the park not far away, not completely empty but a definite upgrade from the bustling streets.

Wait. You understand me?

"Um. Yeah. Kinda comes with the quirk," she started, fidgeting with her hands before the floodgates burst open with her rambling. "I'm so, so sorry for turning you into a cat. And- and about the other day! I don't do those kinds of things. I was just being stupid. I knew it was a bad idea even if my friends said otherwise-"

You watched the girl as she went on a tangent, babbling on frantically. You sighed, she was young, probably a highschooler.

Alright, alright. Calm down, kid, you're gonna scare yourself into a panic attack. I'm not turning you in, okay? I get it, you made a mistake. And honestly I don't think you could pull of a crime even if you tried, kid.

The girl cracked a nervous smile at that.

"Thanks Ms Y/n." You smiled at the use of your hero name. You didn't mind not being a big shot like Bakugou, but it felt nice to be recognized every once & a while.

Nah, I get it. I did stupid things too when I was your age. Oh. What's your name?

"Its Miyo."

Miyo. You smiled at that, lifting a furry paw to pat her knee. So now, can you turn me back human please?

"Oh, um," she stuttered, her entire demeanor dulling again. "I can't actually."

You felt your fluffy ears droop at that. What do you mean?

"The quirk breaks when you have an unbridled want to turn back human. To be honest, I thought you would've returned human by now. But I guess its not the most predictable, I'm sorry," she said remorsefully.

I just need to want to turn human? You ask, confused. Did you not want to return human this whole time?

"Sort of. But it has to be a very, very strong feeling to override the quirk. Most of the time it helps to feel extreme emotions that associate with needing to be human again. Like intense desperation, fear, stuff like that. Ultimately its all on you though, Ms Y/n," Miyo explained with apologetic eyes.

You sighed at that. Well, at least it was something. Thanks, Miyo. I-

You were interrupted by a loud explosion that made the ground beneath you shook. Switching into prohero mode, your body kick started into action, racing into the streets. Though you skid to a halt before disappearing into the sea of people, throwing one last glance to Miyo.

I'm going to be naked when I turn back human, aren't I?

"Yeah! Sorry again, Ms. Y/n!"

You sighed internally at that. Well. Nothing you could do about that.

Another explosion sending the ground shaking tore you out of your thoughts & had you throwing yourself into the crowd, darting towards the direction of the commotion, the adrenaline in your veins guiding you through the chaos.

"YOU FUCKING PSYCHO-"

You hear his booming voice before you caught sight of the explossive blonde. You took note of the two women that were apparently the cause of all the commotion & Bakugou's arms that covered in frost. You watched as one of the villains aimed for his arms again, creating chunks of ice that engulfed his hands all the way over his elbows. Bakugou blasted them off but you could tell he was struggling, his explosions smaller than usual.

They were aiming to weaken his quirk, you realized.

Bakugou didn't have his gauntlets. Added with the cold weather & the nature of the villain's quirk he was at a massive disadvantage.

Bakugou! You yelped as the other threw your roomate into a wall, her attack reminding you a lot of Nejire's wave motion.

Fuck. Fuck. What do you do. What do you do?? You didn't have your quirk. Even hand to hand combat was out of the question. You were a cat for god's sake!

You felt your heart drop when when you watch the shockwave wielder take aim for another attack.

Yea, no, fuck it.

You let the adrenaline take over & before you know it, you're rushing forward, little claws & teeth digging into the flesh of the villain's calf, eliciting a pained yelp from her. Distracted, she missed her shot, just barely missing Bakugou, her blunder allowing him to dodge.

You didn't have time to feel relieved though, having her attention turn to your little self, uselessly hanging off her leg.

Fuck.

"Sunny, get away from there!" That was all you heard before familiar hands intercepted you as Bakugou dove in for cover with you, narrowly avoiding a hit from the ice quirk's partner.

Having decent cover, those glaring red eyes looked over at you. "Are you insane?! What the hell is wrong with you??"

Bitch, I was trying to save your ass! Fuck off with the name calling-

You were interrupted with another blast that sent the two of you crashing into a boutique, the display of clothes cushioning what would've been a painful slam to Bakugou's back while you flew out off his hold, landing with a thud a little distance away.

Bakugou!

Dread filled your veins as you watched the pair tag team your roomate. You scrambled to get to him despite knowing there is little you can do. You couldn't just watch! But before you could even get close an explosion was sent your way, forcing you to hop backwards to avoid it, stopping you from getting too close.

Bakugou, you bastard!

"Fuck off, pipsqueak. I can handle this on my own," he growled out, eyes ahead but you could tell was directed to you.

Aiming a blast at the ice wielder, Bakugou risked a glance at you. "I mean it, Sunny- FUCK!" he got cut off as the other villain caught him in her wave motion, slamming him into a wall & pining him there.

No.

No no no-

Human. You needed to turn back human.

Now.

C'mon. C'mon c'mon c'mon please.

You wanted to. You needed to. Please. Please.

Please.

You gasped at the sudden shock that rushed through your body. Your sight glowed pure white, before everything stopped.

You dropped to the ground like a ragdoll.

You couldn't move.

You couldn't move. You couldn't open your eyes. It felt like all the energy was zapped from your body. Your heart seemed to beat in your ears. Once. Twice. Faint yelling seemed to seep into the black. You recognized that voice.

"-nny! Wh s wro ith ou-"

The cotton in your head made it hard to hear. But you knew that voice. You were sure of it.

"SUNNY!!"

Bakugou. Its Bakugou, right? He gave you that name?

That's right. You need to help him.

But you couldn't move.

Move, dammit.

You mustered everything to will yourself to get up, to fucking move, but your body didn't listen to you. Even a finger felt too heavy.

"HURRY THE FUCK UP, SHITTY HAIR!"

Bakugou is calling for help? Bakugou? Fuck, things must've gotten bad.

C'mon get up.

You needed to get up. You needed to help him.

"FUCK-"

You heard Bakugou's voice cut off as if he had the air knocked out of him.

You haven't thanked him yet.

He had to be okay.

You still owe him that hug you vowed to give him.

He HAD to be okay.

You felt your heart clench at every pained groan the villains beat out of your roomate. Your throat tightened up with guilt.

COME ON GET UP!

You'd cry if your body worked right now. Unshed tears burned the back of your eyes. You were begging at this point.

PLEASE.

Then, everything came rushing back.

Your eyes snapped back open, before immediately fluttering shut from the bright contrast. Pulling yourself up, you groaned as you reached a hand up to your pounding head. Wait. Hand. Hand!

A rush of victory tore through you, making you force your eyes back open to confirm your suspicions- only to have your heart drop immediately.

Fuck. Thats right. You changed back naked.

A/n: thank youuuu for being so patient with me. i know i take a WHILE to cough out fics but i'm doing my best i promise 🥺. i hope you enjoyed this part. hope the 'action' portion isn't too scuffed. AND I HOPE THE NEXT AND LAST (I SWEAR IT WILL BE THE LAST) CHAPTER WON'T TAKE AS LONG.

🌟

Part Five

Series taglist: @deadpoolsvodka @zbeez-outlet @fixed211 @arael-asuka @sadcookie365 @phrogfungi @trash-heichou-kacchan @sad0ni0n @woodzonesworld @mushi42 @yappydoo @kazxtora @nnubee @chuugarettes @voidsatoru @freakyundercover @momdisappointment @simp4rengoku @yaskna @zane2408 @lynn-writes-things @dinodumbass @jihyuniepark @julietdelamare @captainchrisstan @atrainb @wannabewolf @cupidcole @atsushiki @trashbin-nie @mothmanuwu @skyesayshi @nezykoi @theredtater06 @lanaxians-2 @alextheknight707 @vollkornpraline @misakik28 @carnationhcs @some-ryvant @blubearxy @dangerousluv1 @seokjin-bby @slytherclaw1227 @tjmaxx556 @kuleo26 @answer-the-sirens @stxrrielle @call-me-drartemis @ouch-thats-harsh @coodoritoss @thychuvaluswife @dynakats @naneko-nakooooo @letharue @sleepylittlebarista @moonbinnie0983 @ninashellhole @lovra974

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #cat dad!bakugou #mrow #oliwrites

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 5

a/n: this one was fun for me. enjoy!!!

Other chapters

wordcount: 2.5k

“Good morning” you sit across the table from him “what’s for breakfast?” He picks up a piece of toast from his plate and flashes you a sleepy smile and says “anything you like”. Magic house, right. “In that case, I’d like a cinnamon roll, an omelet, hot chocolate and orange juice” placing your hands on the table as the list of food begins to appear in front of you. You half waited for Azriel to make a comment about your choice of breakfast but he only said “a cinnamon roll sounds really good right now” and then his own plate appeared. A giggle, an actual giggle, escaped your lips. Get a grip. “Cheers” you motion with your bun and he returns the gesture. “If Cassian sees me having simple carbs for breakfast he’ll make me run an extra ten miles at training tomorrow” his eyes have gone wide and it reminds you of the kid you used to babysit when you would take him to the ice cream shop on the way home from school. “The super fit general doesn’t like a sweet treat?” you ask between bites. “It’s not that he doesn’t like sweets but when he gets in his trainer mindset he becomes a pain in the ass” you snort “and I’m guessing you have a sweet tooth?” he nods once “it’s my only weakness” you roll your eyes and smile as you keep eating. Everything was delicious, you basically inhaled the cinnamon roll and hot chocolate. As you push those dishes away they vanish. This house freaking rules. You go to eat the omelet as Azriel asks “How did you find your room?” “Oh it’s beautiful and the bed is very comfy” he continues “did you sleep well?” You shake your head “well, once I fell asleep it was fine but I was up until late tossing and turning”. “I’m sure this has been difficult to process” you sip the orange juice, throat suddenly feeling dry “uhm, yeah it feels fake, all of this and last night was the first night I got the chance to think without being distracted or interrupted and… I was just overwhelmed” Azriel nodded and you jumped a little as you felt a cooling sensation against your cheek “sorry, they usually don’t bother people” he said and pulled his shadows away from you. You bring your hand up and notice the tear tracks. I must be dehydrated from all this crying. Lightly laughing you say “I don't even notice when I cry anymore, before I got here I don’t remember the last time I cried and I can’t seem to stop” another laugh slips as another shadow swipes the last falling tear. “I can’t even begin to understand how you feel, but if you want my opinion, I think you’ve been incredibly resilient”  he gets up from the table “I’ll see you later” and walks away. You can’t help but feel a little embarrassed crying in front of him before the day has even begun. 

“You must be y/n! Nesta told me you’d be joining us today” after breakfast and a little bit of walking about the house trying to remember where everything was. Feyre had found you and informed you that the priestesses were ready to begin. “I”m Gwyn” she held out her hand and offered you a million dollar smile. You shook her hand and offered her a five dollar smile in return. “Well, follow me,” she walked you through shelves and shelves of ancient looking volumes and tomes and from what you gathered these books could very well be thousands of years old. The thought made you feel very small. “I have taken it upon myself to take charge of this project and put together a small group to find out how to get you home” she said the last few words in a whisper. So the portal business is not for everyone to know, makes sense. You spend the next few hours meeting the other priestesses and beginning the search for books that might have what you’re looking for. By lunchtime you are starving and in need of fresh air. 

You opt for lunch on your balcony. But regret it almost immediately, the peace and quiet opening the floodgates of your mind and soon enough you’ve lost your appetite. Sighing, you get up from the little table and walk into the room. You grab your bag and empty it out on the bed. You had some snacks, your water bottle, an extra pair of socks you had forgotten about, your wallet, passport, sunglasses, phone and sunscreen. That was it. This is it. You place everything that you have to your name in the drawer of your bedside table and resist the urge to cry again. There’s still a full day ahead. The despair quiets down as you return to the library and are consumed by the work. 

After a full day of research you feel like your mind is going to explode. This will take months, if we’re lucky. You return to the dining room and see Cassian, Azriel and who you could only assume is Nesta already eating. “Y/n! Meet my mate, Nesta” Cassian excitedly points to the female beside him. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you” you try to muster up some energy but the defeat in your voice and your face is obvious. “It’s nice to meet you as well, I apologize I wasn’t here yesterday but I assume everything has gone well with the house?” At that you can’t help the enthusiastic nod “the house is fantastic”. You start to make yourself a plate and they return to their conversation but you don’t really listen to what they say. You keep going over and over it. Before you got here, before you stepped on that circle- there was something there. But you hadn’t seen anything, not a shadow, not a footprint, nothing. But the quiet… whatever it was, it was a predator that had scared off all but one prey. Maybe it was a trap. You feel sick. Oh god. “Y/n? You’re pale” Azriel’s voice snaps you from your spiral and you see the three of them sharing the same concerned look. I hate that look. “I’m just tired, it’s been… a long day” you try to finish your dinner but between their worried glances and your lack of appetite you can’t do it. “I’m gonna call it a night, guys” you say and walk to your room. 

The next few days are a blur of the same routine: breakfast with Azriel and sometimes Nesta, research, lunch, research, dinner, sleep. On the third day Azriel is the only one at breakfast “do you only have two changes of clothes?” You furrow your brows at him, “yes” last night had been the second sleepless one and you were in no mood to be tested. “I can take you into town if you’d like, get you something else to add to the rotation” you appreciated his offer, truly, the dress and the leggings were getting old “thanks, but I have no currency or goods or services that I can exchange for new clothes. These will have to do” you start drinking your tea, the only thing you could stomach since yesterday. “Y/n, you are an official guest of the Night Court. You can charge whatever you need or want to the High Lord” Oh “I did not know that. I’ve never been an official guest of anything. But still, you’ve already given me too much”. He stays serious as he says “We leave after you finish breakfast” he pushes a cinnamon roll in front of you. “I guess we can leave now” he doesn’t move “you’re not going to eat?” You shake your head “I’d love to but I am not hungry at all” he looks at you square in the face and you know he can see through the paper thin mask you’ve put on. “Very well, let’s go then”. 

“Do you prefer pants or skirts?” Azriel asked as you walked through a very busy part of Velaris. “Well it depends, I like skirts for leisurely activities and pants for everything else” Azriel looked around, he seemed just as lost as you were “fair enough”. “Azriel, do you know where we’re going?” He placed his hand on your back to guide you through the crowd “of course I do”. You say nothing. Both of us seem to be in a mood today. “Here we are,” he points to a quiet looking storefront “Feyre and Nesta talk about this shop a lot”. You walk in and see a mixture of textiles, prints and cuts that revive a part of you that has been dormant for a while. “Oh my god, this is great” Azriel lets out a breath and says “go crazy” and you do. Two hours and three full bags later you walk out of the shop. “I feel like I went overboard, we should return half of these things” you go turn around but Azriel’s wing stops you from walking any further. “Nonsense,  you need the clothes, now we need to get you some new shoes” you look at your boots “what’s wrong with these?” He walks into a shoe shop “nothing is wrong with them, but don’t you want something more comfortable?” You would like some slippers and maybe something cute to wear with the dresses “alright, if you insist”. As you walk towards the displays you miss the smile that ghosts over Azriel’s face. 

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Azriel. Getting out of the house and the library was just what the doctor ordered” you say as you bite down on a cinnamon roll that you had ordered at a little bakery. “A change of scenery is always nice I suppose” you nod and keep eating. “Y/n, feel free to not answer if you don’t want to but what is your world like?” Dammit, just as I was having a nice time. You sip some tea, your throat having gone dry yet again. Breathe, come one. In. Out. “It’s ok. Well for starters there’s no magic. There is war, famine, illness. But we also have so much beauty. Where I’m from the trees are always green and the sky is constantly blue. We have beaches and rivers. I was traveling before I got here, and I saw a bit of the world away from my home and it was beautiful. Similar to this, but the stars felt like a painting and these feel like living beings. We have art and I guess the most recent advancement has been the internet, but that’s a whole other conversation. There are so many animals, we keep some as pets. I had or have a dog. But there are monkeys and dolphins and butterflies and oh- we move around by cars or planes or trains mainly. We have horses but ever since the industrial revolution they aren’t the main form of transportation” you talked for what felt like hours, by the end your throat was sore from overuse. Azriel had listened to it all and had committed every detail to memory. Even if he didn't understand the internet or how planes flew without magic. 

 After the snack break Azriel let you know that you were going to have lunch at the River House with Feyre and Elain, the third sister you had yet to meet. The sister Mor thinks Azriel is enamored with. The walk back was pretty long but enjoyable, conversation with the Shadowsinger seemed to flow naturally and he seemed interested in everything you had to say so when he announced you had arrived you couldn’t help the disappointment that bubbled in your chest. The River House was a spectacular mansion overlooking the Sidra. “Azriel, y/n! Come over here, Elain is just finishing up lunch” Feyre said in place of greeting. You follow Azriel towards glass doors that lead to a beautiful garden terrace, where you are greeted by a delicious looking spread of finger foods. “I tried to make everything baby friendly” a delicate musical voice says to Azriel. You look from the spread towards the voice “you must be Elain, I’m y/n”. She smiles and says “lovely to meet you, please start without me, I’m in the middle of decorating a cake” you note the apron she dons and the frosting that stains her pretty face. I’d be into her if I was Azriel.

Feyre, Nyx, Azriel and yourself enjoy lunch and simple conversation “there’s only a few more weeks of summer so we try to make the most of this weather before the Sidra freezes” you nod, having noticed that the breezes gliding through the air seem to be getting cooler and cooler everyday. The High Lady lets the little boy out of his chair, he doesn’t look older than two. Once he’s free of the confines of his high chair he races to the lawn and begins to play with some toys he probably left there earlier.  “Here we are” Elain returns to the table with an intricately decorated cake, it has all sorts of flowers and leaves made of pastel color frosting and Elain herself looks perfectly put together, she looks for her nephew “Nyxie, do you want a slice?” The table laughs as he ignores her and goes back to playing. “Sorry Elain, you know how he gets after being still for too long” Feyre says. The domestic scene fills your heart with longing for your own family. That could’ve been you. Your blood runs cold as you hear the distinct lilt of your mother’s voice. Not this again. You had had some reprieve of those words ever since getting here. “So Elain, I’ve been told you garden?” You ask to fill the comfortable silence the group had fallen into. Luckily Elain had a lot to say about the upcoming autumn harvest and her plans for the following year. 

After lunch concluded, you and Azriel went back to the House of Wind where you resumed the routine you had grown to appreciate. In the morning you would wake up and actually choose an outfit, which was a nice addition, have breakfast and go to the library. After lunch you’d go back to the library until dinner. After dinner you’d either walk around the house, find a book to read, maybe journal a bit. Other nights were a bit more fun though, someone would take you into town and you’d go dancing or walk along the river or visit art galleries. It was a nice routine. Predictable. Dependable. Enjoyable. 

So Azriel was very surprised when you walked into the dinning room with a huff and a scowl. “What’s the matter?” You look at him like with wild eyes “Azriel I can’t do it anymore” he stiffens and you continue “The priestesses are all very nice and Gwyn is a sweetheart but the only thing I do is look for books for them to read because they are all written in ancient languages I don’t understand. I’m so bored, Azriel, I’m numb with boredom. I’m not a researcher and I can’t even contribute, not really. I don’t wanna go back down there. It’s dark and cold and I need sunshine. Sunshine!” you finish by dropping into your chair and putting your head between your hands. “I see-” you interrupt him “and I’m sorry I sound ungrateful ok? You’ve all been very nice”. He continues “if you need a change of pace you could come with me to the human lands, I’ll be there for a few days on an assignment. I’d appreciate the company” you could kiss him.

 “When do we leave?” 

#acomaf #acowar #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acosf #jurian acotar #lucien vanserra #rhysand #nesta acotar #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #elain acotar #elain archeron #feyre archeron #high lady feyre #feyre cursebreaker #feyre darling #feysand #a court of mist and fury #night court

[goodnightmemes]

THE CRAFT (1996) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ I can't stay home and watch daytime TV for the rest of my life. ❜

❛ The almanac says today will bring an arrival of something. ❜

❛ We need someone to call out the corners-- north, south, east and west. ❜

❛ I am sorry. My defenses are up. People here have been really rude to me. ❜

❛ He comes on to anything with tits. ❜

❛ Everything in nature steals, you know. Big animals steal from little ones. ❜

❛ Maybe you're a natural witch. Your power comes from within. ❜

❛ I had a dream about you. In my dream, you were dead. ❜

❛ Man invented God. This is older than that. ❜

❛ Do you guys worship the devil? ❜

❛ Sometimes I will want it to rain, and a pipe will burst in my room and it will just get flooded. Or I will want it just to be quiet, and I will wish for it, and I will go deaf for three days straight. ❜

❛ Nothing makes everything all better again. ❜

❛ Maybe he was just trying to save face then... because... he's going around the whole school saying that... you're the lousiest lay he's ever had. ❜

❛ Why'd you lie about me? ❜

❛ Look, I don't want to go out with you again. Okay? Please stop begging. It's pathetic. ❜

❛ She's gonna cry, and then I am gonna cry. We're all gonna cry. ❜

❛ You girls watch out for those weirdos. ❜

❛ We are the weirdos. ❜

❛ Did you tell your friends? That you're a lying sack of shit. ❜

❛ Did you ever play that game, light as a feather, stiff as a board? ❜

❛ I think she doesn't want to be white trash any more. And I told her, "You're white, honey. Just deal with it." ❜

❛ Ever since I was a little girl I said, “All I want in life is a juke box that plays nothing but Connie Francis records.' ❜

❛ It's just that I can't stop thinking about you. I don't know why, but I think I love you. ❜

❛ I don't know what's happening to me. I can't eat. I can't sleep. ❜

❛ When you open a floodgate, how do you undo it? You unleash something with a spell. There is no undoing. It must run its course. ❜

❛ You should let him suffer. ❜

❛ It's not for you to judge suffering. ❜

❛ True magic is neither black nor white. It's both because nature is both. Loving and cruel, all at the same time. The only good or bad is in the heart of the witch. ❜

❛ Whatever you send out you get back times three. ❜

❛ You want to invoke the spirit? You must be experienced to do this. It's very dangerous. ❜

❛ You know, the serpent is a very powerful being. You should respect it. ❜

❛ Listen, all I am saying is I think it's enough already. ❜

❛ I know you think we're getting what we want now, but it's going to come back to us threefold. ❜

❛ Are we actually having a theological conversation here? ❜

❛ I mean, it's fun, it's scary. I mean, who gives a shit? ❜

❛ Stop trying to win them over, because it won't work. ❜

❛ How do you know what I look like? We're talking on the phone. ❜

❛ I disagreed with them once, and they turned their backs on me. That's not friendship. ❜

❛ Sometimes it's like we're one person. Know what I mean? ❜

❛ You should have seen the look in his eyes. It was so weird. They seemed empty, like it wasn't even him. ❜

❛ You're a witch! They were right. ❜

❛ The only reason you're in love with her is because she cast a spell on you. Sad, but true. ❜

❛ You don't even exist to me! You don't even exist. You are nothing. ❜

❛ The only way you know how to treat women is by treating them like whores! ❜

❛ He's sorry? Oh, he's sorry! He's sorry! He's sorry! Sorry, my ass! ❜

❛ Don't touch me! Everything I touch turns to shit. ❜

❛ You know, in the old days if a witch betrayed her coven... they would kill her. ❜

❛ I know I don't know you very well, but I just didn't know where else to go. ❜

❛ And now, it's like everywhere I turn, they're all around me. No matter what I do, ❛ they're still there. I don't know what to do. ❜

❛ She's inside my dreams. She knows what's going on inside my head. She can read my mind. ❜

❛ I can't control it. I always end up hurting somebody. ❜

❛ You must invoke the spirit. ❜

❛ If it isn’t real then why are you still bleeding? ❜

❛ Run! Run back up to your room like the little coward that you are. ❜

❛ What's going on? Why aren't you dead? ❜

❛ He came to me. Saved me. And he wanted me to give you a message. You're in deep shit. ❜

❛ By the way, what happened to [name]? They rushed out of here without even saying good-bye. That's bad manners. ❜

❛ Relax. It's only magic. ❜

❛ Look. I know I am a little crazy. I don't mean to be. ❜

❛ It all got out of hand, and I am sorry. No more games, okay? ❜

❛ We were just wondering, do you still have any powers? Because we don't. ❜

❛ Hold your breath until I call. ❜

❛ Be careful. You don't want to end up like [name]. ❜

#rp meme #rp prompt #sentence starters #sentence meme #roleplay prompts #role #inbox meme #askbox meme #rp prompts #rp memes #*movie

[feralforpapa]

Missionary Man [Part 2]

Terzo Emeritus x AFAB!reader

A/N: Thank you all for all of the love on Part 1! I’m sorry it took so long to get this out, I’ve been swamped at work lately. If anyone has any fic or headcanon requests for Papa 3, just send ‘em my way. 💕

Plot: just a continuation of Missionary Man [Part 1]

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Pure smut. Foreplay. Fingering. Unprotected sex. Breeding kink.

“As much as I want to confess right now… I also have to keep you on track with going onstage, Papa.” Your voice was almost a squeak as your face was still being held by Terzo’s hand. “I still have to do my job.”

Terzo’s lips pressed into a thin line and he gave you a quick nod before dropping his hand to his side again. He turned back to the mirror once more, giving himself the final outfit check - he was always adamant about looking put together, and it always showed based on his exquisite suits, stunning Papal robes, and right down to his calm and lustrous demeanor. For a moment, you thought you might have angered him, or made it seem like you were trying to reject him in a subtle way, and that sent a wave of panic through you.

“Terz-“

you were promptly cut off before you could even get his name out of your mouth, and that was probably for the best, considering that your voice would’ve sounded small as you tried to explain yourself.

“I know. The ritual comes first, and then we can resume this… confession… si?.” Terzo shot a reasurring smile at you through the mirror. “We still have a job to do here.”

“We do.” You let out a little sigh that conveyed how much you didn’t want to be professional at the moment. “Speaking of: it’s time for you to go backstage.”

“Mhm,” Terzo hummed, folding his arm behind his back to take that proper stance that always seemed to drive you wild. “A lot of ground to cover tonight, cara mia.”

There were a few moments of silence between the two of you. Both of you seemed to be caught up in your own thought process about the way the rest of the night might possibly play out. We’re the confessions taking place here? The hotel? Somewhere else? The possibilities were endless, but you weren’t very picky about where any of it took place. All you knew was that you wanted Papa Emeritus III’s cock buried inside of you within the next two hours, or you were bound to just lose it.

Terzo finally turned his eyes and attention over to you after that bout of prolonged and tense silence.

“Half an hour will seem like an eternity, no?” He asked as if he had just plucked those thoughts directly from your brain.

“Well, I’ve waited this long to have some time with you, so, I don’t think another hour will kill me - hopefully.” You smiled in amusement, and silently willed yourself to last a little longer.

So far, you were doing fairly decent at keeping your mind on your job itself, but that seemed to get a little harder with Terzo stepping towards you now. He stared down at you, and his eyes were still consumed with that look of hunger from before. You swallowed down the lump that had settled in the back of your throat, and started to become very noticeable to you that your arousal was only growing as Terzo’s gaze almost put you in a trance-like state. His hand came up once more to grasp you tenderly by the chin, giving you a pull towards his body.

“Bravo ragazza.” Terzo’s accent came out velvety and smooth as he purred at you.

That was it, and that was all it took for your arousal to come fully into fruition. You weren’t very fluent in Italian, but you knew enough from your time at the ministry to know when your Papa was calling you a good girl. You clamped your thighs together right where you stood, forcing yourself not to moan out loud at his words, or just forget about the ritual all together and drop down to your knees in front of him.

It was practically like the floodgates had opened at that moment - figurative and literally, let’s just be honest about that - because every single encounter that you had with him never failed to make a puddle form between your legs. Every passing glance at Mass, the way he strutted the halls with such a balanced and confident stride, and his eyes… those fucking eyes that you’d been so desperate to watch bore holes into your soul while he was between your legs again… it was all you wanted at that moment.

“Y-you really-“ you had to cut yourself off to take a deep breath and swallow down that lump in your throat again, “You really have to go backstage now, Papa.”

Terzo, already sensing your emotions let that smug smile pull at his painted lips again. He gave your chin another small squeeze before lowering his head to press a quick peck to your lips, only letting the heat between the two of your linger for less than a second. He pulled away with a small, teasing hum as he dropped his hand from your face.

“I assume you’ll still be here when I return, hmm?”

“Yeah, definitely not going anywhere.” You caught your bottom lip with your teeth this time.

You couldn’t done everything in the book to try and hide the way that you were feeling or how goddamn desperate you were to have that man on top of you, but it was of no use. Terzo wasn’t a fool, and he knew exactly the type of effect that he had on you, because it had never been much of a secret. There really was no way of keeping secrets from him anyway. He always seemed to know exactly what you needed and when, especially if it involved a need for him; it was like he could smell it on you like you were in heat, or something. Then again, perhaps you were when it came down to the brass tacks of it. The man seemed to hit the on switch for your most primal instincts, and it left you wanting him in the most animalistic of ways.

Needless to say, Terzo was a very versatile lover from what you had already witness from him. He didn’t have any hangups about trying new things, nor was he on some sort of “alpha male” power trip where you were just expected to lay there and let him fuck you without complaining. He could be dominate if needed or wanted, yes. But, the man was also capable of laying you down and making love to you like you were the only person he ever needed or wanted. And that change of pace was always nice when you were in the mood for it.

But, romance wasn’t really what you were after at this moment in time. There was a part of you that wanted him to fuck you until you were raw, because at least you’d have something to remember him by in case you didn’t get a chance to be with him for another few weeks. You were already a flurry of emotions, and nothing had even happened yet. You were undeniably aroused, but also sad at the thought that he might be gone and busy again once you two fucked. You knew deep down that you were never going to get enough of him, you’d always want more.

“Alright.” It was Terzo’s voice that brought you back to reality once more. “Then I fully expect you to be here when I come back.”

“Yes, Papa.” Your voice betrayed you, and your tone oozed with how needy you were.

Terzo let his mismatched eyes roam your form for a moment, but it didn’t last nearly as long as you wanted it to. Before you could even blink, he had already turned and sauntered fluidly over to the dressing room door. But, he didn’t leave before cocking his his head back to you, throwing a flirty smile and that goddamn wink of his over to you. That was the second time in the span of 10 minutes that he made you want to sink down onto the floor - whether that be to gravel at his feet or blow him was debatable - and just like that, he had disappeared out of sight, closing the door behind himself.

~

That hour and a half really did feel like an eternity, just like Terzo had questioned you about before he left. You found yourself pacing around the dressing room like a caged tiger, doing your best to take your mind off how slowly the time seemed to be dragging on and on. The slow ticking of the nearby wall clock seemed to get louder and louder by the second; needless to say you weren’t doing a very good job at keeping your mind occupied elsewhere.

You did a lot of preening in the mirror during that time. You did your best to make sure your outfit and hair were styled right, wanting to make sure everything was in place. You became slightly insecure that you might not look as desirable as you thought you should - but that was obviously a harsh critique on yourself that wasn’t needed.

Your outfit of choice wasn’t all that different from the stage garb that the Nameless Ghouls wore. You did your best to try to look the part while you were on the road with them, but it was also the fact that you just appreciated their aesthetic. You wore a long sleeve button down and the hem of it was tucked neatly into your jeans, and those jeans were paired with black leather boot me that stopped below your knee. You spent a good chunk of your time buttoning and unbuttoning the top button of your shirt, trying to decided which looked more appealing.

You finally decided to leave it unbuttoned after 30 minutes of internal conflict about it.

The time that wasn’t spent obsessing over your appearance in the mirror was spent keeping yourself occupied by listening to the echo of the band playing as it reverberated into the backstage hallway. Of course, you could’ve gone out to watch them perform, but you had seen the show countless times and you just didn’t want to tack on anymore temptation for this moment that wasn’t already there. Terzo had already gotten you wet just by being in the same vicinity as him, so seeing him performing and going through his usual antics onstage would’ve driven you completely feral, and it was only bound to get worse before the night was over with.

~

Nearly two hours later, your salvation finally came when you heard Terzo’s vocal over the beginning of Monstrance Clock echoing through the venue. You knew full well what that meant, and anybody that knew anything about a ritual did; it was a tradition that it was the last song to be played at the end of the show. That’s when your nervousness really began to hit you with full force, knowing you were only moments away from Terzo returning. You made your way over to the vanity once more, still listening to the ongoing chanting of the crowd as they sang along with Terzo.

You laid your hand on the counter, leaning over slightly as you gave yourself another once over in the mirror. You bit your lip at the thought of the confessions that you were going to make, and that only made the excitement settle in the pit of your stomach.

~

You were sitting on a leather loveseat that sat in the dressing room when the door finally opened up to reveal Terzo standing in the doorway. You could see in Terzo’s face that he was still high from the adrenaline rush that being on stage gave him, and you knew that would only add fuel to the fire of what he was going to be like now. You shifted where you sat as you watched him shut the door behind himself as he sauntered over towards you. You had taken off your boots a while ago, letting your feet press against the floor as you stood up to approach him.

“How was the Ritual tonight?” You asked, with a coy smile tugging at your lips.

“Amazing, Tesoro. They always are,” Terzo replied, offering his gloved hand to you. “But, we can talk about that later. We have - if I may say - more important matters to attend to, don’t we?”

“Yes, absolutely. We do.” The words came out of your mouth a little faster than you intended to.

Nope. There was definitely no denying your neediness for him now. But, the way his head tilted back slightly as he looked down at you through his lashes let you know he seemed to be pleased by that. And if there was one thing you wanted to do: it was to please Terzo in every way that was possible.

“I guess we should start with your confession then, si?” Terzo asked, taking another long step toward you, letting his body come to a stop only a few inches away from yours.

And then that solid lump formed in the back of your throat again, but it seemed damn near impossible to swallow it down this time. For a moment, you thought you might choke on your own words, but somehow, you managed to swallow thickly before letting out an audible sigh. You turned your eyes up to Terzo’s again, and it didn’t take them long to start scanning over his face paint. It never failed to make you weak in the knees to see how it brought all of his best features to the forefront.

“How do the siblings do it?” You asked.

Terzo cocked his eyebrow at your question, as if he didn’t quite understand your meaning.

“The confessions,” you added with a small laugh. “Is it, ‘forgive me, Father, for I have sinned?’ Or ‘Forgive me, Papa… I haven’t sinned enough.’?”

Terzo smiled with a quietness, letting that intimidating gaze of his grow into one that was ready to send you over the edge. He reached his hand up just as he had before, letting his gloved digits grasp lightly at your chin, giving you a small tug forward as his mismatched eyes burned into yours.

“The rest usually just ask for a talk… but, I could get used to hearing that second one, cara,” Terzo purred, letting his accent roll fluidly off his tongue. “And what about you, eh? How do you want to address your Papa?”

“Well, if we we’re going by the restrictive rules of Christianity… then I’ve sinned a lot lately, Papa- sinful thoughts, anyway.”

There was a slight pause, and the tension between the two of you felt like a thick cloak was being draped over the entire room itself.

“And what are those thoughts?” Terzo’s voice was more of a whisper as he raised an eyebrow with strict interest and attention.

Here it was, it was all or nothing now. There was no way you could mention something like that and not go through with telling him about it.

“You,” you confessed, biting into the side of your cheek. “My mind keeps going back to our earlier… encounters… I mean, the thoughts are really bad during Mass, but they get even worse at night.”

You raised your hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist while he still had your chin in his grasp. You gave it a small squeeze as you blinked up at him with a wanton expression. This man had barely touched you in all the ways that you needed him to, yet you were already mush in the palm of his hand, ready and willing to do anything he asked.

“I know it’s probably obvious and, like you said, there’s no need to be coy,” you continued, letting out a small breath when you felt his fingers squeeze into your skin again, “So, the confession is that: no matter how many times I try to get myself off at night thinking about you, it just doesn’t compare to how good you made me feel when you touch me.”

“I can’t say that it didn’t seem obvious… I can feel the tension and frustration radiating off of you when I’m near you these last few weeks, amore,”he replied, letting his eyes scan over your face and body. “And if your body didn’t give you away, then the way that you look at me certainly does.”

“Guess I’m not so good at keeping secrets.”

“Not from me, no.”

You started to let your hand drop away from Terzo’s wrist, but he finally released your chin and grabbed your hand instead, pulling it up to place your palm flat against his chest as he tilted his head at you.

“But, I am slightly disappointed to hear that you aren’t finding your own pleasure lately… that just won’t do,” Terzo hummed, letting the tip of tongue click against his teeth to emphasize his words. “All of us need to be satisfied and happy if we are to serve or ministry properly.”

“Give it back to me then.” Your fingers gripped slightly into his white shirt. “Please.”

“As your Papa, I’m happy to provide whatever you need.” Terzo’s free hand snaked around your body, pulling you into his chest.

He finally lowered his head enough to put his face closer to yours, and it was close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. Your fingers gripped further into his shirt this time, and you closed the distance between the two of you as you leaned forward to press your lips against his. You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped against his lips as the two of you engaged in a long awaited makeout session. You could feel his arm tug you flush against his body, and that only made you more eager to keep your lips on his.

You were only showcasing your impatience by both of your hands already starting to work their way over the silver buttons on his shirt. You tugged at them to unsnap and few and you felt the chuckle against your lips from Terzo before he dragged his warm tongue along your bottom lip.

“Trying to skip right to the good part, are we?”He mumbled against your lips.

“All of it’s good, Papa,” you breathed against his mouth, catching his bottom lip between your teeth.

You could feel that smirk of Terzo’s as he brought his hands up to your chest, starting to undo the top buttons of your shirt. The kiss continued when he took the lead and pressed his lips back to yours, letting his tongue slip into your mouth this time. Another small moan sounded in your throat as your hands grasped at his slender waist, but a whine of protest escaped you when he detached his mouth from yours too quickly for your liking. There were more wanton stares thrown back and forth before he finally let two of his gloved fingers slip between the buttons of your shirt.

“I’d love to see this unbuttoned just a little more, cara,” Terzo purred, tugging at the fabric of your shirt, then dropping his hand to the button on your pants. “And these.”

“As long as you’re the one doing it,” you told him, taking his hands in yours to pull them back up to your chest.

“With pleasure.” Terzo’s lips pursed while he slowly began to unbutton your shirt.

His eyes barely left yours as he as he finally undid the last button and let your shirt fall open. But, obviously he couldn’t stop himself from dropping his gaze down to get a look at your bare chest. You watched his teeth scrape over his bottom lip. You took the incentive to try and further please his eye by shrugging the material from your shoulders, letting it slide down your arms to pool in the crook of your elbows. You stayed like that for a moment before dropping your arms to let the shirt fall to your feet.

“Hot. There’s no other way to put it.” Terzo’s hand snaked around your waist once more, giving you a sharp tug into his body. “And far too irresistible to be so unstatisfied lately… but, I’m determined to fix that tonight, sorella.”

He ghosted his lips over yours on purpose, making the intensity of the moment build before ducking his head down to your neck. There was a small gasp that escaped you, and your hands involuntarily clamped down on his shoulders when you felt his warms lips on your neck. He immediately found that sensitive spot at the base that he knew would send you into a completely unhinged state. You felt his lips suction around your spot as he let out a small growl against your skin, and then you felt the material of his gloved fingers move their way up your body to your breasts.

You dug your nails into the material of his suit on his shoulders, letting your head fall back, rendering yourself vulnerable to his mouth as he nibbled and sucked at your heated flesh. One of Terzo’s hands fell down to your ass, gripping into like he owned it - like you were his - it made you squirm with delight against his body to see him assert that dominance. You didn’t bother to try and stifle back the moan that escaped your throat when you felt him press his warm tongue against the base of your throat to lick a stripe up to the side of your neck. He coated you with his saliva as if he was marking you for himself.

“Fuck, Terzo,” you whined, sounding completely desperate for him, but that was the least of your concerns. “I need more of your mouth. Please.”

“That’s a dangerous request to make when I’m starving to devour you again,” Terzo purred against your skin, brushing his thumb over one of your stiffened nipples. “Especially when I know just how fucking good you taste.”

You huffed out in response to his words, practically turning into a post-verbal mess before him. It was light a switch had finally flipped inside of you, and whatever shyness you were still clinging onto was finally released. Instead, you were taken over by your own carnal instincts and your need to let this man have his way with you.

You reached up, grasping at Terzo’s raven black hair to pull his head down to your chest. You only had to use minimal effort, because he was more than willingly to duck his head down and suction his mouth around one of your nipples with a certain quickness. You whined sharply and hiked one of your legs up onto his hip as much as you could; your next goal was to press your crotch flush against his, more than a little impatient to feel his cock harden against you. Your grip strengthened on his hair as he growled against your breast, continuing to tease your nipple with his tongue. You couldn’t hold yourself back from rolling your hips against him, starting up at slow grind to try and relive that severe ache between your legs.

Terzo seemed to be pleased by your initiation, and it was further proven by the way his other hand dropped down and he was helping guide your small thrusts with his hands gripped into your ass. You had soaked through your underwear with your arousal by now, and you wondered how much more wet you could get before it soaked through onto his trousers - which was a turn on within itself, to mark him just as he had done you moments ago.

Terzo finally pulled his head up to press his forehead against yours, narrowing his eyes as he watched your face already contorting with pleasure. He kept that firm grip on your ass, giving your hips a small yank so you could grind your pussy flush against him this time - as flush as you could since the two of your were still clothed. Your pupils dilated with a glimmer of lust when you felt just how hard he was getting. You let your hands slip between the two of you, quickly unbuttoning your jeans and taking down the zipper.

One of his hands shot back up to your face, grasping your chin as he tilted your head back to make you look up at him once more. You watched the side of his jaw flare from the way he gritted his teeth, biting back his own seething arousal. Your hands came up to hold onto his waist as he stared down at you, and the smoldering look he was giving you made you realize that he probably wasn’t going to hold back when he finally fucked you.

“Touch yourself for me, cara,” Terzo groaned at your mouth, flicking his eyes down to your lower half. “You say it doesn’t compare to how I touch you, so show your Papa.”

Your jawed flared as you looked up at him with eyes that were already glazed over and completely shot with lust. You grabbed Terzo’s wrist, pulling it down between the two of you, leaning your head forward to engage him in another hot kiss. You slipped your tongue inside of his mouth this time, desperate to taste him in anyway that you could get it. He moved his tongue back against yours without protest, still using his other hand to grope and squeeze your ass as he began to grind against you with more intent this time.

“I’ll show you, but I wanna use your hand, Papa,” you breathed against his mouth, pressing his gloved hand into your crotch.

“Sembri così viziato,” he teased you for your needy behavior, but it was evident by his tone he enjoyed it. “At least let me get this off, si?” He lifted his gloved hand back up to show you.

You squirmed where you stood, wanting to protest, but decided against it as you nodded your head at him. You watched his painted lips tug into a smirk while he lifted his fingers up to his mouth. He placed his fingers to his teeth, biting down on the soft cotton of the gloves as he maintained eye contact with you. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh, watching him give a tug to the material to pull it off of his large hand. When his bare fingers finally came into view, your gaze went straight for them, eyeing them hungrily.

You grabbed Terzo’s wrist again, pulling it back down between the two of you, pressing his fingertips against your exposed underwear. Your breath hitched into your throat when you felt the warmth of his fingers as he pressed into the top of your pubic bone. You guided his hand, letting his fingers slip into the band of your underwear, and that’s where he decided to take over his own movements. You placed your hand over top of his, digging your nails into his skin when you felt the first few jolts of pleasure as his fingers slipped between your folds.

“Ah, sorella, you really have missed me, haven’t you? Already so wet for me,” he growled in that silly tone, using his fingers to spread your leaking arousal around your sex. “You are going to feel so good stretched out around me again.”

You moaned out, using your hand to press his fingers further inside of you. Your body jolted roughly against his, both of your chests pressed against one another. Your head fell back, enjoying the feeling of Terzo beginning to draw rhymically circles around your swollen clit. The ache you felt from in your core was still very prominent, but it was becoming a little more satisfied with each stroke he made with his skillful fingers.

“Right there, Terzo. Your fingers feel so good.” Your voice was already becoming shakey from each hard breath you took.

As much pleasure as you were in, you still weren’t intending to be selfish about it. You pulled your hand away from his, bringing it forward to press your palm against his crotch. You let out a grunt when you felt just how hard his cock was as it strained against the material of his jeans; that was enough to make you want to bend yourself over from him right at that second. You’d throw your own pleasure to the wind for him, but you knew he wouldn’t allow you to do that to you.

“Do you feel what you do to me, bellisima?” Terzo asked, jutting his hips forward to press his cock firm against your palm. “You aren’t the only one that thinks about us fucking. Fantasizing about you during Mass isn’t enough anymore.”

“Fuck me now, then.” The words blurted from your mouth without a single sense of hesitation as you rubbed his erection through his pants. “You can bend me over that vanity and use me, Papa.”

Terzo narrowed his eyes, and his fingers slipped deeper inside of your entrance until they were penetrating you fully. You felt his fingers curl upwards until he was pressing right into your g-spot. Your hand paused their strokes against his cock for a moment, becoming caught up by your own pleasure when he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“Facile, bambina. I’m going to breed you on every surface tonight, until you tell me you’ve had enough,” Terzo purred dangerously, creating rhythmic strokes against your g-spot for emphasis. “But first, I want to feel you cum on my fingers - that’s an order.”

You nodded feverishly up at him, looking at him through hooded eyes as he gave you his strict order. You started grinding your pussy down into his hand enough to press your mound into his palm as he fucked you with his fingers. Each thrust made your clit glide against his skin, creating a new wave of sensation and pleasure each time. Each stroke of his fingers only seemed to make you wetter, and that was very obvious as your arousal began to leak enough to coat his fingers and open palm.

“Fuck- right there- don’t stop, Papa” you moaned, grabbing hold of Terzo’s waistband, hastily unbuttoning his pants.

You snaked your hand into his pants, finally getting the first feel of how hard he really was when you wrapped your hand around his cock. Terzo growled out with a mixture of pleasure and impatience, pressing his hips against your hand, urging you to continue. You pumped your hand along his cock a few times, biting into your lip when you heard the first actual moan fall from his lips.

Hearing his deep voice turn into sounds of pleasure was more than enough to bring you closer to your impending climax. You stroked your hand along his length, stopping ever to often at his tip just to tease him, loving to feel the way he would thrust sharply against your hand. You watched as he glared at you with narrowed eyes, and that only seemed to encourage his to to make his fingers move more intensely against your g-spot. He’d pull his fingers from you every so often, but only to circle his fingers around your clit.

Your moans had turned into sharp whines as that coil of pleasure begin to tighten in your stomach, letting you know that you were getting close. Terzo only added to your stimulation as he dropped his head, surprising you as he took one of your nipples into his mouth again. You mewled out, letting your head fall back to surrender yourself over to his mouth and fingers as you were right on the edge of your relief. Your legs trembled right where you stood, so much that you thought you might collapse right there. Your movements against his cock finally paused, and you could feel the warmth of his pre-cum leaking onto your fingers.

“Terz’, I’m so close,” you panted, using your free hand to grasp his hair again, clinging to him while your walls started to tighten around his fingers. “I’m gonna cum.”

He released your nipple from his mouth once more, pulling his head back up to look down at you again. He grasped your face with his free hand, forcing you to look up at him, yet again.

“Si, cara mia. Show me how good it feels - I want to see that pretty cum face when you let go for me,” Terzo encouraged you, but still keeping a consistent pace with his fingers.

You released his length from your hands at that moment, bringing them up to wrap around him, hanging on for dear life. You cried out as you clung to Terzo’s frame, feeling that tight coil in the pit of your stomach finally snap. You felt that intense wave of pleasure as your orgasm began to overtake you in heavy waves that shuddered your whole body. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and your walls contracted tightly around Terzo’s fingers, but he still made the effort to pump them in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.

“I’m cumming.” You were able to choke out words through your gritted teeth, but only just.

“Brava ragazza, just like that. Cum for your Papa,” he continued to talk you through your orgasm, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Merda… I can feel you dripping down my fingers, tesoro. They feel that good, hmm?”

“Y-yes, yes.” You had to force yourself to answer his question.

You were already feeling a little dazed and foggy-minded, thanks to the first orgasm he gave to you. The last few weeks, you were only able to give yourself minimal amounts of pleasure, but having Terzo forcing you to cum for him gave it all back in an instant. It was slightly overwhelming to feel so much stimulation at once, but it was a euphoric feeling none-the-less.

“I need you, Terzo. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want you inside me now,” you finally began to beg without an ounce of shame.

Terzo, obviously starting to become just the slightest bit impatient from his own lust pulled his hand from your pants. He lifted his hand to reveal the way that you had slicked his fingers with your fluids, and his mismatched eyes scanned over them. You watched his take his fingers to his mouth, and you breath hitched when he dragged his tongue along his ring and middle fingers, tasting you.

He hummed, closing his eyes as he savoured the way you tasted on his fingers. He licked another stripe up to the top of his fingers before placing them in his mouth briefly to clean them off. His mismatched eyes finally opened to find your again, and he tilted his head at you with a small smile. He reached out that same hand to you, and it’s as if you already knew exactly what he wanted as your mouth opened without him so much as having to signal you to do it.

“You taste even better than you did the last time. If I went down on you now, I don’t think l’d be able to stop,” he whispered gruffly, pressing his fingertips against your tongue, making you whimper at his words. “But, I plan on having my face buried between your legs before the night is out.”

You lips closed around Terzo’s fingers with a hum, sucking at them gently before pulling your head back to make them pop out of your mouth. You grabbed his hand, pulling him with you as you headed for the vanity. You mind had only one intent at that moment, and that was to have his cock filling you completely; you had waited long enough to feel him again. You used your arm to swipe the contents of the counter to the side, gazing up at him through the mirror with a lust-driven glance of encouragement.

“Fuck me, baby,” you said bluntly, reaching down to shimmy your pants down below your ass, leaving yourself exposed.

Without another word, Terzo’s hand began to do the same to his trousers, lowering them enough to let his cock spring free from them. You pressed your chest down against the counter, giving your back as much of an enticing arch as you could as you reached back to grab at his waistcoat, pulling him into you. You grunted when you felt his large hands grab your hips, giving you a sharp yank back into his pelvis. You loved feeling that bit of assertiveness from him, even more so, you loved the feeling of him grinding and pressing his cock against your ass.

“You are so ready for me, cara,” Terzo moaned, letting the tip of his cock slip between your folds, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. “I can feel how wet you are against my cock.”

You groaned, pushing your ass back against Terzo to start up a slow grind against his cock and pelvis. You felt him press the tip of his length against your entrance, hitting his hips slowly to press his himself inside of you. You moaned out, digging your nails into the wood top of the vanity as Terzo gave a harder thrust this time, stretching you open as he began to penetrate you.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, pressing your hips back against his, forcing his cock further inside of you. “I missed feeling you stretch me out, Papa.”

Terzo groaned, giving his hips a snap as he filled your pussy all at once with his girth. You let out a slightly strangled moan at the surprise of feeling him enter you all at once. Your chest heaved up and down against the vanity, and you lifted yourself up into your tiptoes, trying your best to expose all of yourself to him. You were presenting yourself to him as if you were something that was in heat.

Then again, being in heat was exactly what it felt like whenever Terzo was near you. Perhaps that’s what he meant earlier when he said that your body gave you away whenever he was near you. It was obvious that he could feel how turned on he made you whenever he was around you.

“And I love feeling you around my cock,” he replied through a growl, starting to give you slow thrusts as he kept a firm grip on your hips. “I want to feel you cum again. I want to feel you soak me before I breed you, bellisima.”

The next thing that you felt was a stinging slap to your ass. It made your body jerk forward against the vanity as you mewled out again, tilting your head back, and that’s when Terzo tracked his hand up the base of your neck to grab a fistful of you hair. He gave your hair a quick tug, reminding you that he was absolutely in charge, and that was when he began to roll his hips against yours with quick movements. His cock delved deep inside of you with each thrust of his rhythmic pace.

You choked out a moan, unable to form any sentences this time as you were taken over by the pleasure of him bottoming out inside of you. You panted as you laid there and took every single stroke that he gave to you, letting your cunt contract naturally around his length each time. Terzo let out growl and moans of his own, becoming focused on getting you off and nothing else. He landed another hard slap to your ass, leaving your skin red and burning, but it only added to how good it all felt.

The small room was was filled with the sounds of the two of you moaning in unison, and it was only contrasted by the lewd sounds of your skin colliding with Terzo’s as he fucked you. You could already feel yourself getting closer to your inevitable second release of the night, and you could tell it was going to hit you harder than the first. You had been reduced to nothing more than a moaning mess as you clinged to the vanity. You had had gotten so wet from the encounter that it was beginning to run down the insides of your thighs, it very obviously had soaked his cock and the front of his pants by this point.

“Does it feel good?” Terzo moaned, giving your hair a tug to pull your back up into his chest so that you were forced to look at him through the mirror. “Tell me. I want to hear it.”

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered when you felt the head of his cock brush your g-spot from this new angle. “I’m not gonna last much longer - you’re hitting my spot, Papa - goddamn.”

“Good,” he snapped hotly in your ear. “I want you to lose control for me, ragazza. I want to please you.”

“You do, Papa,” you cried, started to move your hips back against his, grinding yourself into his cock. “No one makes me feel this good. I’m all yours, whenever you want.”

“Of course you’re mine.” It was a blunt statement that sounded very serious when Terzo growled it against your ear. “I don’t want anyone else to have you like this, sorella.”

You had completely surrendered yourself over to him at that moment. You let your head fall back to his shoulder, still keeping that eye contact with him through the mirror as your hand came up to brush through his raven hair again. You gripped into it as he dropped one of his hands down to slip it between your legs, using the fingers of his bare hand to stroke over your sensitive clit. You grinded against him, but you were also met with those rhythmic, jarring thrusts from him.

“Fuck, don’t stop- just like that, Terzo. Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum so hard,” you encouraged him through choked crying, feeling your legs start to tremble more intensely this second time around. “I want you to cum with me, baby.”

Terzo moaned against your ear a little louder, his body shuddering against yours when you praised his efforts. You kept a tight grip on his hair, continuing to move your hips back against his, trying to fuck him just as hard as he fucked you. Judging by the sharp moans that both of you were letting out at this point, you both seemed to be doing a very good job and bringing each other closer to the precipice of climax.

“Cara, you’re getting your Papa so close. I’m going to cum with you-” Terzo let go of your hair and reached down to wrap his hand around your neck glaring at you through the mirror, continuing, “Where do you want it? Tell me, bambina.”

You turned your head up to look at him directly, pushing yourself up to let your lips crash into his. You moved your lips against his, nipping against his bottom lip every so often before slipping your tongue into his mouth. You moaned out when you got the first taste of yourself from earlier on his tongue, huffing out before pulling back enough to ghost your lips over his.

“I want you to cum inside me,” you breathed, letting go of his hair to cup the side of his face as you looked at him with big eyes. “I want all of it, Terz’. Your hair came up to grasp his hair just as quickly as you let it go. “Cum with me. Breed me.”

Terzo growled in response and his lips pressed to yours this time, initiating a very sloppy kiss as his tongue darted past your lips to get to the inside of your mouth. You whined against him as he let go of your throat, bringing his hand up to hold the side of your face briefly before pushing you back down to your chest on the vanity. You breathed breathed out and gripped into the vanity again when he grabbed roughly onto your hips again, you flicked your eyes up to him in the mirror, watching intently as he fucked you.

You didn’t want the image of him standing over you and fucking you from behind to leave your mind; you wanted to keep it etched onto your memory like an engraving on stone. The sight of it was more than enough to bring exactly where you needed to be at that moment. You locked eyes with Terri through the mirror, letting out strangled cries of pleasure as your eyes began to well with tears from the amount of stimulation you were receiving. The combined feeling of Terzo’s cock filling you up and his fingers drawing circles around your clit was the final nail in the coffin.

“Okay- okay-“ you managed to choke out, trying your best to form a coherent sentence to warn him. “I’m cum- FUCK- I’m cumming-“

You cut yourself off with a desperate cry as you doubled over against the counter, slamming your ass back against Terzo, doing your best to keep his length as deep inside your cunt as was possible while your orgasm overtook. You felt your walls convulsing and clenching hard around his cock, making him moan out along side you in the process as he leaned over to press his chest down to yours. You could feel the heaving of his chest against your back as his own composure began to wane.

“Ah, cara mia, sto per venire,” he announced, burying his face into the nape of your neck to let out a primal growl against your skin. “Ti senti così bene.”

You didn’t need to understand what Terzo was saying to know that he was climaxing - you could feel it. Your back arched painfully against his chest when you felt the first few spurts of his cum coating your walls and filling you deep. You continued to thrust back against him as much as you could, but you were slowly reduced to only being able to grind your ass against him. You doing your best to try and milk him for everything with his weight on top of you. You reached up with a shaker hand, placing it against the back of his head, for no other reason than to feel as close to him as your could.

Terzo returned the affection by laying a few random kisses against your shoulder blade, biting down into your flesh every so often with his teeth. Your hips shuddered against one another, and there were more than a few stray moans that escaped oth of your as you continued to ride out your orgasm to reach that post-coital high that came along with it. There were another few sets of sloppy kisses and nibbles being left along your shoulders and neck before the two of you were finally finished.

You body and legs were trembling so much at this point that you began to have genuine concerns that you’d fall over into the floor of you didn’t keep a tight hold onto the counter. You let out a large breath and let yourself relax against the counter. You felt him pull some of his weight off of you as he let his palms rest on either side you your head. His cock was still buried inside of you, and each movement that he made - no matter how small - sent aftershocks through you that made you whine softly.

“You are gonna be… the fucking death of me,” you breathed out, adjusting your head to eye him from your peripheral vision.

“Me?” Terzo scoffed before taking in a breath to relax himself. “You are younger than I am, sorella.”

“Mm… you’re way too humble, and a sadist to boot…” You did your best to prop yourself up onto your elbows, “there’s no reason to make someone cum that hard, unless you want them obsessed with you… old man.” You threw a teasing look over your shoulder at him.

“I don’t believe in things that are lackluster, and sex is at the top of that list. If I have anyone obsessed with me, I just chalk that up to my position as Papa.”

“Oh, is that how you explain that harem of siblings that are always following you around?” You hummed, throwing a look up to him.

Terzo smirked, reaching down to caress your cheek and chin with his hand. He tilted your head back to get a good look into your eyes.

“Is that jealously I’m sensing?” He questioned, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone.

“It depends on how much you’re gonna make fun of me if I say yes.”

His eyes wandered over your face and features silently for a moment. After a moment, he shook his head slowly before leaning himself in and pressing his lips to your cheek, planting a lingering kiss there. When he pulled back, he press his forehead into the side of your face, giving his head a small shake.

“You have nothing to be jealous of. I appreciate the devoutness of the other siblings and they’re loyalty to the clergy, but who’s the one that’s with me right now?”

You bit into your lip, and tried to pull your face away from his hand to hide the deep blush that began to radiate across your cheeks. But, it was no real use, he held your face firmly in his hand, giving it a little squeeze to let you know he wasn’t allowing you to pull away so easily.

“Answer me, Sorella.” Terzo’s tone was a little more stern this time, but you knew he didn’t mean for it to sound intimidating.

“Me. I’m the one with you now, Papa,” you replied, still looking back at him with a doe-eyed gaze.

“Exactly.” Terzo’s voice was more gentle when he answered, then he laid several quick pecks to your lips. “I thought it might have been becoming obvious that you’re my favorite of all the siblings.”

“I’ll make a mental note of it. I promise.” You smiled back at him, but quickly shifted your stance where you stood when you started to grow stiff from your current position. “Okay, I think I need to stand before my legs give out on me.”

Terzo’s length was still inside of you while it finally started to soften. The mixture of your fluids was quickly creating a mess that seeped out of your pussy. You could feel the mess it was making as it ran down the insides you your thighs, coating your skin, along with your pants and his. You grimaced lightly at the feeling of it now; the sloppiness of sex was always fun for the first few minutes after it was over, and then it just started to feel overly sticky.

“That statement right there: it makes you the oldest one here by default, Tesoro,” he chuckled, giving your cheek another small kiss before he stood up straight. “I’m going to pull out now, si?”

You nodded your head, non-chalantly reaching your hand behind yourself to lay it against his slender hip. It was the same reasoning as to why you grabbed his head moments ago; you just wanted to be close to him. You wanted to touch him and feel his warmth beneath your fingertips. Secretly, it was something that you didn’t want to l live without now. Terzo gave you a small smirk through the mirror, and it wasn’t until now that you noticed just how smeared it Papal make was; it was mainly the paint around his eyes and mouth that was smudged beyond repair

You felt him start to pull out, but even that added to the overstimulation that you felt. You moaned softly, giving his hip a small squeeze of warning as he laid his palms against your back, rubbing soothing circles to one of your shoulder blades. He gave a quick jerk back with his hips to pull himself out fully all at once, making another small moan escape your throat, and then came the feeling of all of his ejaculate running out of you.

“I’ll apologize for putting your legs to sleep, but I won’t apologize for the mess I made - that part was worth it,” Terzo mused, admiring the way that his seed oozed from your cunt before pulling his eyes up to your face again. “Are you okay?”

“Trust me, I’m fantastic,” you reassured him, grunting as you started to lift yourself up again. “Just a little worn out, if we’re going to be honest.”

“Let me help you then.”

His reply was quick and he didn’t give you any time to protest or tell him you were going to be okay before he was shoving himself back inside his pants and making a beeline to gather up another of your clothes that had been strewn around the room. You stared at him through the mirror, shaking your head with amusement as he pranced around to gather your clothes and, lastly, a small pack of wet wipes that he had in his stage back. He returned back over to your to set the items down on the counter, then he grabbed your shirt to hold it open for you.

“Yeah, no need for you to fuck that well and be this respectful afterwards,” you protested playfully, pouting at him through the mirror as you slipped your arms back into your shirt.

“Well, tough shit. You’re just gonna have to deal with the fact that I have a few manners, amore mio,” Terzo replied bluntly, giving you a smug grin.

“Mhm, very polite,” you chuckled, buttoning up your shirt.

You watched Terzo sink down to his knees at that moment, and you were slightly confused - but so not opposed to such a sight - you turned your body carefully towards him to see him pulling out one of the wipes from it’s packaging. It was very obvious what he was about to do, and seeing such a level of caring from someone that held such power was such an unusual thing to see.

“Wow. Papa Emeritus… on his knees with a pack of wet wipes,” you said it more to yourself than him, finding it rather comical to see. “Even you have to find this strange, Terz.’”

“Nope. It’s not strange for me, at all. I’m more than happy to pamper and look after any of my lovers - being Papa doesn’t absolve me of having decency,” Terzo replied, lifting up the wipe to your thigh. “May I?”

You nodded your head at him, turning your head away for just a moment to try and hide the blush he had forced from you again. You chewed the inside of your cheek when you felt the damp wipe come into contact with your skin as he cleaned your off. The was a gentleness to Terzo’s touch that threatened to arouse you all over again; the way that he too his time and the care he put into the actual aftercare was a whole kink of it’s own.

“Besides, I get on my knees for many different reasons,” he added, cutting a flirtatious glance up to you. “Had you not been so sensitive when we were finished, I would have happily dropped down to my knees to clean you with my mouth instead of this.” He waved the wipe at you to get his point across.

You sighed audibly at the thought of him going to his knees you clean the aftermath of your shared fluids with his mouth and tongue. It was right then that you cursed your body for getting so worked up that you had missed out on the chance to have that man’s face buried in your pussy while he was down on his knees for you. You let your head fall back for a moment so that you could let out a calming breathe, then you pulled your head back down to look at him as he finished up with wiping your skin down.

“Will I sound desperate if I ask for a rain check?” You raised a curious eyebrow at him.

“It’s funny that you think you need to ask for a rain check, as if we won’t be doing this again.”

“Well, I never like to assume things.”

“You can very much assume that I want to keep seeing you.” Terzo swiped over your skin once more before discarding a few used wipes into a small trash can by the vanity. “I did tell you that my face would be buried between your legs before the night is out, no?”

“If I can get out of Sister Imperator’s sight, you mean,” you laughed, pulling your pants and underwear back on again. “And yes, you did say that.”

“She keeps you for herself far too much. Perhaps you should consider assisting your Papa full time.”

“I’ll think about it, pretty boy,” you teased, reaching out to brush a lock of his hair back into place.

Terzo sighed, leaning forward on his knees to place a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. He flicked his mismatched eyes up to you, staring at you as he finally lifted himself back up to his feet. He still had that small smirk of seductiveness on his face as he took a step towards you, reaching out you caress the side of your face with his hand again.

“Well, you still have the rest of the night to consider a new venture. That is, if you want to accompany me back to my hotel?” He questioned, tilting his head at you.

You smiled, reaching out to snake your hands around his waist, taking a step forward to press yourself comfortably against his chest. His thumb strokes gently over cheekbone as he gazed down at you as if you were the only other person in the world. He had that otherworldly effect of making anyone feel special when they were in the moment with him, and all you wanted to do was for this feeling to last beyond tonight.

“Of course I want to… but under one condition,” you said.

“Anything.”

“Run me a hot bath when we get there, pretty please,” you whined playfully, looking up at him with the most innocent gaze you could muster.

“Well, lucky for you, I had planned to do exactly that when we got their anyway,” Terzo hummed in response.

“Are you trying to make me spoiled?” You huffed.

Terzo tilted his head at you. “I don’t know- is it working?”

You rolled your eyes at him in response, doing your best to hide the smirk on your face as you finally turned your head. You pulled away from him with reluctance to grab your bag and pull the strap over your shoulder before throwing a look over your shoulder as Terzo followed you.

“C’mon, let’s go gather up the Ghouls and get them occupied for the night before they get loose inside the venue.”

“I’ll follow you. I get to enjoy the scenery more that way.” He winked at you.

Your eyes rolled at him yet again, but it couldn’t hide how undeniably happy you were in that moment.

#the band ghost #papa emeritus iii #papa terzo #terzo #daddy terzo #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus 3 #papa emeritus iii smut #terzo emeritus #pap emeritus x reader #papa emeritus fanfiction #terzo emeritus x reader #Tobias forge

[therottenkingsreckoning]

Right, we're actually doing this.

I'm super nervous posting something like this, but with the encouragement of friends I feel ready to share with y'all the first chapter of this Franklydear mpreg fluff-fic I've been writing! Might post more chapters if reception to this one turns out to be good, but for now, have this!

~Little Flame, Chapter 1~

It began on a day like any other. That's when Frank first began to notice it anyway. He woke slowly, morning light streaming in from a crack in the blinds directly into his face. Combined with the strange coiling pain inside their gut, it made being awake on this particular morning rather unpleasant. Sensing his lover's stirring, Eddie tried to pull them close, but the same awful pain made Frank pull away.

Of course, that definitely woke the man up. Frank was never one to refuse the morning cuddles of his husband, in fact he cherished them more than anything else. "You feeling alright love?" Eddie asked, the rumble of sleep mixed with gentle and loving concern in his voice.

"Mm, s-sorry dear, " Frank said, sitting up and gently rubbing the sore spot in his stomach. "I feel a little nauseous right now. Don't know why."

"Nauseous?" Eddie was wide awake now, sitting up himself and looking worriedly at his partner. "Was it something you ate maybe? I hope my cooking's not that bad." The last line was added with a dry and awkward chuckle, clearly hoping to lighten the mood they'd woken up to a little bit.

"No! No, those were delicious," Frank assured him quickly, thinking back to the tacos his husband had made last night. Eddie really was an excellent cook, though the stress of his job often left him with little energy for such things. It was a treat to be enjoyed whenever he did have time to cook. Unfortunately for Frank though, thinking about food at the moment was a bad idea.

With a surge and squeeze of their insides, Frank was sent leaping off the bed, rushing into the bathroom just in time to throw up in the sink. Staring weakly up at his reflection, a sorry sight met them- bleary eyed, hair still in tangles, mouth wet with drool and leftover puke. What did Eddie even find appealing about such a wreck? Why would anyone look at this and not want to vomit themselves?

The pain had begun to subside, fading into a dullish ache in his lower gut, but they still inexplicably felt like he wanted to cry. What was with them right now? Pushing the irrational feelings down for the moment, he turned just in time to see the sheepish face of Eddie poking through the bathroom door. "Now I know that ain't right," he said with genuine worry. "You're clearly sick Frankie, I really hope it wasn't me that caused it."

That got the floodgates open on Frank's emotions. How much he loved and was loved by this man! Such simple gestures of care might as well have been heroic acts in their mind right now, and he almost reached to embrace and kiss him. But then, remembering the taste of bile on his lips, they turned back to brush their teeth quickly, a toothbrush-munching smile thrown his way around the drying tears.

"If's pr'lly jus' flu," Frank said.

Eddie was clearly not yet convinced (and more than little bit confused by this point) but some more gentle reassurance convinced him to leave it be for the moment. It probably was just a case of the flu, it was the right season for it.

Once they'd finally shooed the man off on his work route with promises to rest and recover, Frank fell onto the living room couch, finally allowing himself to feel the full extent of the sudden pain. Their back was killing him since they'd woken up this morning, and the peristent throbbing pain of his guts had shifted into their womb. That part felt reassuringly familiar. Maybe it was caused in part by his period starting again. He was due for one soon.

Actually...they were overdue.

The thought struck him like an arrow to the chest. The nausea, the cramps, the weird mood swings...the missed period. Could he be...

Shaking slightly, Frank's hands raked through his messy morning hair, tangling it further as they held his head steady and fought the urge to throw up yet again.

You don't know that's the case, they chastised himself, It...it could be the flu, like you said. Or a hormone imbalance.

But what if he was pregnant? How would the two take care of children? Did Eddie even want them? Frank certainly wasn't opposed to the idea, but it had always been in the abstract, "one day" vibes, not it actually happening!

Slowly, they forced himself to breathe and calm their swirling mind. I need to think about this logically, he thought.

There was really only one way of knowing for sure, of course. He'd need to buy a test from Howdy's shop. But he couldn't do that. The mere idea was agony. Frank wasn't out to most of the neighbors, at least not in regards to his sex. Julie knew, of course, she'd been there since before their transition, helped get him their first dose of T and worked odd jobs to pay for his top surgery. And Eddie knew. He definitely knew all that by now. As far as the others were aware though, Frank might as well have been AMAB. It was none of their business anyway.

But now it seemed, one more would have to be made aware. If I'm not I can finally relax and be sick, Frank told himself, steeling themselves for the journey. And if I am...

What would they even do? How would they possibly take care of a child, the responsibilities, the stress? And before they even got to that, the idea of birthing one! The pain and stress and mess of it! That was-

"Meow."

Frank looked up suddenly from where they'd curled up on the couch, eyes still speckled with the anxious tears as they met the soft black face of Bacon, their cat. Behind her, brothers Egg and Cheese soon followed, seemingly drawn to comfort their nervous parent. Or maybe they just wanted him to feed them. Whatever the reason, he was grateful they were there. Anything to get their mind off things.

Gently patting and kissing each, Frank stumbled to their feet and wandered into the kitchen for food, both his own and the cats'. The trip to Howdy's would happen, it had to. But maybe not yet.

#welcome home #frank x eddie #eddie x frank #franklydear #frankly dear #welcome home eddie #eddie welcome home #eddie dear #welcome home frank #frank welcome home #frank frankly #welcome home fanfic #fanfic #fluff #mpreg #does it count as mpreg when they're non binary? #eh close enough #stuff I said #Ember's art #Little Flame

[apprenticestanheight]

Imagine rimming/pegging Adam for the first time and hes all sarcastic and sassy like convinced he wont really like it even saying youre a perv (like the smart ass he is), then the second you start hes whimpering like a bitch and spreading his legs and begging for more <3

Pegging Adam Stanheight Headcanons + blurb

OH MY GOD ANON thank you for opening the floodgates with this one. It feels like it's been AGES since I last wrote for Adam (i've spent a lot of my time focused on an AU with Lawrence and trying to get a couple ideas for other characters to work on on my off days lol) and writing a fic involving pegging just felt like the right move to make so--here's this??

I also also also am SUPER SORRY for how long this has taken--if you've looked at my blog since I started last week, you'd know I work a really fuckin weird rotating schedule and twelve hour days. This has been marinating in my inbox since before I started working, however, and before then I was just demotivated and so anxious it borderlined upon debilitating. I really hope you enjoy this one and that it makes up for the time you spent waiting for it to come out. Also hope you're okay with headcanons and a little bit of a blurb as the fic format, as it made more sense mentally for me to do it that way.

Fic type - this one is SMUT!! y'all should know what that means by now, too--minors, GO AWAY!! This fic is for those 18+ and if I see you interacting I will not hesitate with my bestie, the block button.

Warnings - pegging, praise, begging, the use of a strap-on, I wanted to get this out today so it's also unedited, and again, MDNI!!

All right, to start, you are the one who finds it interesting first. You spend a solid week wherein all of your horniest thoughts consist of Adam pinned to the bed beneath you, one of your hands holding his chin while he whimpers bc the strap-on you're using is so big and you're moving at a pace that's so slow he almost hates it.

Adam finds it mildly interesting--he's thought about it once, decided he might not like it but also decides to bring it up to you one random night bc you're both high, exhausted, and horny.

So, now you're wondering how it gets brought up, right?

WHHAAAAAAAAAAALEEEEEE, Adam brings it up half asleep, when you're both in the aforementioned state of high and horny and also very exhausted.

"How would you feel about pegging, baby?" and then you're pulling him close bc he's not close enough (his chin is tucked into the crook of your neck and you can smell the mint and cigarettes that he emanates even when he's not smoking. You just want to meld yourself to him bc when you get high, yeah time ceases to be something you believe in but when you're high with Adam you're the clingiest person Jersey ever did see)

and you're saying "yeah, that would be fun, Adam," bc it has consumed your thoughts wholly for a solid two or three weeks by then, but you're wanting to be chill about it.

both of you are completely out to the world like, five minutes thereafter.

It does, however, get brought up the next night. He agrees to it pretty easily, says that the two of you can try it the next time you have sex and if neither of you like it then that's that, and if he doesn't like it, then you respect his boundaries enough to respect that about him.

You buy a strap-on on a compete whim from a sex shop near your apartment on a random wednesday, buy lube that day too bc sex safety and all.

Both of them wind up being used on a friday night, when Adam is stressed bc post-saw vet school has taken it's toll and if he has to study one more minute, he'll lose his mind.

You have dom/sub dynamics in the sexual aspect of your bedroom and both of you are switches, and Adam asks if you have the necessary things to peg him and laughs when your face just lights up at the idea.

You prep him, and the entire time that goes on, Adams like "I'm unsure about how this'll feel, but if it's not my thing, meh. I don't think I'll like it but trying it will have been decent, at least."

AND THEN YOU START

and Adam is still thinking he's probably not gonna enjoy it as much as you will.

"When did you become such a perv, baby?" is said by him in a few different variations when you're prepping + rimming him. It eggs you on and he knows that, wants whatever comes with it.

And then, you actually start pegging him--the strap-on you bought is a fairly large eight inches in length, a fairly thick girth, and blue just because, and seeing him beneath you is probably akin to seeing the handsomest man to ever exist?? maybe??

SO ANYWAY, you start, and Adam goes from thinking he won't really like it to needing you to bottom out like, instantly. He likes how it feels to be split open in that way, doesn't so much as TRY to hold back his moans.

He does try to look away, though--he's loud and proud of it but also somewhat embarrassed bc he's not really one to be submissive in the relationship (you work in marketing and deal with people all day so you come home wanting to be fucked into thoughtlessness more than he)

you, however, don't let him, and when you push into him another inch and a half, he moans lewdly while staring directly at you. it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen.

When you finally bottom out, pressing a kiss to the sweet spot on his neck as one of your hands goes to his cock, Adam is feeling so amazing that he's convinced he'll start seeing stars.

You've heard Adam beg but a few times since you'd started dating, and it's been amazing every single time.

That night, he begs so much that you're sure you could bottle it and use it to get black-out drunk, should you have pleased.

He spreads his legs a bit more to let you have better access and moans when you start from a different but better angle.

He becomes a mess SO QUICKLY TOO IT'S THE FUCKING HOTTEST THING

all in all?? pegging him is one of the best decisions you could've made for your relationship bc both of you love it so much

-

"Oh my God, Y/N," he's moaning, helplessly, as you thrust quickly into him. "Oh my God. Please, please, please don't stop. Please--fuck."

"I know," you kiss the sweet spot on his neck, quickening the pace of your hand on his dick. "You're taking me so good, Adam. This is one of the best things I've ever seen. You're so hot, beneath me and begging to come, mm?"

Adam is so blissed out that he's almost not thinking, and when he comes he already knows he's gonna be a thoughtless mess from your ministrations. He's cock-drunk, loving the way that your strap-on fills him up and never wanting that to end.

"Fuck," he moans, not even trying to suppress the sound. "So close, Y/N. I'm--ah!"

You laugh, kissing his cheekbone as ropes of his come spurt from his dick and paint his stomach.

"You're so cute when you're cock-drunk like that," you laugh again. "You liked it?"

You're pulling out of him, slowly, as he nods. "Yeah," he says. "I loved it, actually."

You clean up his stomach and clean up yourself, having come from the feeling of the strap-on against your clit and the sound of Adams moans. When you climb into bed with him again, he pulls you close and holds you tightly.

"I love you, Y/N," he says.

"I love you too, Adam," is your, admittedly very exhausted sounding, response. "Next time I peg you, you're riding me while I sit with my back against the headboard. You love that position when I'm the one doing the riding, and I wanna know what the fuss is about."

Adam laughs, kisses your collarbone and gives your ass a cheeky little smack in form of a response.

You fall asleep not soon after, naked and cozy in each others arms.

#adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw (2004)

[enam3l]

mona i cannot get rockstar eddie and reader dancing to seals kiss from a rose outta my head man its bad

how did you read my mind! the awards show was actually based on the 1996 grammys where seal did win best song for kiss from a rose as well as bunch of other stuff!! and i kept thinking about it whilst writing the fic and never managed to include it... until now. here is a bonus just for you!

96' awards show bonus: kiss from a rose (rockstar eddie x reader) ficlet / fluff

a bonus scene for this fic

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

There was one huge reason you were insisting on going to tonight's award show - Seal. You couldn't deny it and you didn't have to admit it thankfully because Eddie knew. He'd seen the way your eyes welled up every time 'Kiss From a Rose' came on, how you would hum or sing along under your breath and that was before you were pregnant. Since hitting the four month mark in your pregnancy, the obsession only intensified. It was played multiple times a day and Eddie didn't complain, how could he deny you of something that makes you go all cute and mushy? Plus, he'd heard it in the 'Batman Forever' movie and it was badass. After a month of hearing it endlessly and seeing your reaction, Eddie caved - he had to know what was special. 

'Sweetheart...' Eddie's voice rang through the hall as he approached you in the kitchen, where you stood in his tshirt and some underwear swaying to the song. 

He leant against the door frame taking in the picture, you half dressed, hair messy and making breakfast whilst dancing - it was a perfect sight. You hummed in response to the nickname, attention still mostly focused of the dulcet tones of Seal's voice. 

'I gotta know... what is it about this song?'

Eddie instantly feels bad as he watches you freeze up, drop the spatula you were wielding and sees the pretty blush creep over your face. You look at the floor awkwardly, not wanting to be sucked in by his inquisitive brown eyes. 

'S'embarrassing...' you mumble. 

He sidles over, tucking a finger under your chin to look at him, his other hand finding yours to offer comfort. 

'Come on, y/n, let me in on the secret!'

You can never refuse his cute pouty face whenever he feels left out. You sigh. 

'She likes it...' 

'Who?' Eddie's brow quirks up, he knows you like it - that's literally why it asks. 

You look down at the bump between you. 

'The baby...' you whisper. 

Eddie ohs in response as your intertwined hands reach to rest on top of it. The grin on his face is adorable, she's doing it for our baby, he thinks. 

'Why is that embarrassing, babe? S'cute!' Immediately he realises he's said the wrong thing as your face scrunches up and suddenly tears burst out. Shit, shit, shit, Eddie panics internally. There's no predicting with the hormones, just sometimes what he says is completely wrong and he feels awful every single time. 

'Baby! What is it, what did I say?' He begs, quick to start wiping away your tears. 

'She'd only move for you,' you whimper, the floodgates have opened and you try to speak between choking on sobs.

'When the doctors said soon she'd start moving at four months and she did but - but only when you were there... every time you were around, talking or touching my belly she'd respond a-and she'd never ever do it with me. But then I played the song one day and she did and you weren't there. So I kept doing it and she did it ev-every time. We dance together. She jumps around in there Eds... it's the only time she moves just for me.'

Eddie feels fucking awful. Whilst this is one of the most adorable stories he's heard, it breaks his heart knowing you'd been feeling like that and hadn't said. He can't help his own eyes prick with sympathy tears. The pair of you are sobbing messes in the middle of the kitchen. 

'Y/N... I'm so sorry! I didn't realise! I'm so sorry sweetheart, you should've told me,' Eddie presses a kiss to your salty cheeks, pleased than you let him. 

'Didn't want to upset you either, Eds. Like, I love how responsive she is to you but I was jealous and then finally I got to have this little thing with her. I was feeling selfish and wanted to keep it to myself,' you sniff, tears drying out finally. 

'That's okay, she's your little girl. You can have it to yourselves. I don't mind!'

Sometimes it's sickening how kind and understanding Eddie is. You really married the perfect man. 

'Do... do you want to see?' you ask shyly. 

'Of course, I mean... are you sure? I don't want to ruin your special thing.' 

You nod and replay the song. Both your hands pressed to your stomach and Eddie follows your movements as you sway. He gasps as he feels the baby begin to wiggle and bop around inside. Her little limbs pushing at the surface. He can't believe it, it's truly like she is dancing inside there. The song is replayed several times on repeat in the kitchen that morning. 

So Eddie was excited himself that all three of you would now get to hear Seal singing your baby's song live. It wasn't lost on him how your dress was rose red. You knew Seal would be there because of all his nominations but you weren't certain he'd be performing. Therefore, once you'd sat in your seats and finally read the evening's programme you couldn't help the squeal you let out at seeing his name under the list of performers. Eddie nervously chuckled at your excitement, squeezing your hand, slightly terrified at what your response will be to hearing the song live. 

When Seal accepts his award, you're on your feet clapping. You see Eddie's raised eyebrow and smirk.

'He deserves it!' you scowl. 

Eddie can't help but notice the twinkle in your eye as you gaze at the man on stage. He nudges Gareth. 

'Please tell me this guy is married or gay?' he pleads. 

Gareth looks over at your beaming face and snorts. 

'I hope so for your sake, man.'

Finally the moment was here, Seal was about to perform. Your tummy was full of butterflies, you felt silly for the nerves, but somehow this felt so significant. Eddie is there holding your hand. As the band kicks in, the first notes from 'Kiss For A Rose' begin to flutter through the auditorium and your grip tightens. The way your face lights up as if you were a kid on Christmas makes Eddie's heart swell. Unable to resist your cuteness, he leans over and places a chaste kiss on your bare shoulder. It doesn't take long for your baby to realise her song is on, she begins to bop and instantly both yours and Eddie's eyes fix to movement under your dress. Suddenly, Eddie has an idea. He has to make the most of this moment, it's too special. Who cares if everyone sees, you're worth everything and more? 

Eddie stands, tugging you up. Your eyes widen, confused at what he's up to but the naughty grin on his face tells you everything you need to know - he's up to something. You're unable to protest, Eddie easily dragging you out of the row and into the empty aisle. He pulls you to his chest... as close as he can with the bump in the way. 

You giggle, blush matching your scarlet dress. 'Eddie Munson, what the hell are you up to?' you whisper. 

'Dancing, all three of us! We have to... think our little dancing bean,' and you can't say no to those pleading chocolate eyes. 

Or the bouncing presence in your stomach. You nod. Eddie is quick to take your hands, clutching one and wrapping the other round his neck then putting his on your hip. Together you dance. The audience whose gaze linger at the two of you and the confused staff just blur. It's only you, Eddie, Seal and your happy bouncing little girl. Both of you look down at her, bopping around more than ever. Eddie can even feel her from your stomach being pressed to his. It's perfect. 

'She's going crazy in there, hey sweetheart?' Eddie gasps. 

'She's never been like this before! I think she knows she's getting her own little live show.' 

Neither of you can suppress the laughter at her flailing movements. 

'Jesus, babe. I don't know how you do this. Can feel her right against my stomach! She's kicking the shit out of me?'

You roll your eyes. 

'I know. Why do you think I'm constantly peeing? I swear, I'd only go through this for you, Eddie Munson.' 

Overwhelmed with love, the way he has been since the moment you told him you were pregnant, Eddie crushes a kiss to your lips. 

'And I'll never be able to thank you enough for giving me my little wiggling princess.' 

You let your head rest on Eddie's shoulder. Dancing together until the song fades away. Smiles plastered on your face at the precious moment. Both of you wondering what it'll be like to finally see your baby girl. 

Eddie supposes if there's any man he has to share his girls with, Seal is worthy. He is grateful to the singer for making his wife and his baby so happy throughout the pregnancy. Also, Eddie's pretty sure he's now got the perfect middle name for your little girl - Rose. 

my taglist angels: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja

#rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson × reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson × fem reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #munson headcanons #eddie munson × yn #eddie munson X y/n #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #enam3ls rockstar eddie #enam3l x eddie #enam3l asks

[bennydwight]

Saw the "Libby in Chairman's Robe" piece just now, and I wanna ask, how do you think Molly would look, and feel, in that robe?

Okay okay okay Koskela I’m so sorry but you opened the floodgates here.

I know the intention here was a cute picture of Molly playing dress up but for some reason I saw your ask and my mind exploded with enough red string to choke a conspiracy theorist and I have to get all this out somewhere, so buckle in folks because I’m about to jump to more conclusions than a paranoid frog and it’s going to get long

Molly and the Cloak

We begin with the previous Chairman. An intimidating looking dude, meant to serve as a direct opposite character-creation-wise to the ghosts immediately around him. He’s physically taller, built like an inverted triangle as a contrast to the characters he usually hangs out with

(Scratch is a rectangle don’t @ me)

But there’s one more interesting physical difference he has with every other ghost we’ve been introduced to:

Underneath the cloak, the Chairman is bone. In fact, the bone motif seems to be a large part of his design, since his facial area is shaped loosely like a skull.

Neither of which ghosts have.

And we know it isn’t a style transformation because when Scratch uses the cloak, he’s still the same underneath (no bones about it!)

And since skeletons haven’t been introduced to part of series canon (maybe they’re planning that for season three), we can only deduce that there was once a human under the hood. And it’s not a typical way for a human to exist in the Ghost World, since the default form is obviously ectoplasmic and not skeletal. So what might’ve caused the Chairman to differ so greatly from his peers?

(This is where the red string comes out.)

Before we dive into the next point, let’s take a look at some of the other traits of the Chairman for the purposes of this headcanon/theory/alternate universe/whatever:

He never speaks

He rarely moves, only in stiff, disjointed jerks

He gains power and sustenance from misery

We’ll get to that last one later, but for now let’s focus on the first two. We’ve seen these symptoms in another concept already introduced to us: possession. (Speaking less so than moving, but we do know there's at least a tonal difference.) So if the human that was once the Chairman is dead, why isn’t the ghost under the robe? What happened to it? The thing that makes it tick, the soul, the free will, is gone, leaving only the physical body behind. You could argue, sure, that the human died, the ghost went on to have fun ghosty adventures, and its body was left behind for something else to pick it up (but why bother if everyone’s a ghost anyway?)

Well, the thing that picked it up wasn’t a ghost.

The Chairman is the Cloak possessing a human corpse.

This explains a few things: it doesn’t talk because its got no voice (either meat or spectral), it keeps movement to a minimum to avoid suspicion, the body provides a shape to fill it out (hence why the Chairman has more human proportions), and solidity could also act as a form of armour.

(My theory here on why it had to be a corpse it couldn’t just be a ghost is that, from what we’ve seen, we can assume that ghosts can’t possess other ghosts. Otherwise nothing would get done. It’s likely the Cloak needs a physical vessel because trying to push a spirit out of a body without the body probably won’t work too well.)

But why go through all the rigamarole of possessing a skeleton and instigating yourself as the head of a ghost society? Why the secrecy? Now we get to point three: misery. The Cloak needs to feed off misery, and a bunch of angry, bitter people with lifetimes of grudges is probably a pretty great meal. Access to so much misery ensures its growth and survival. It’s a parasite. One with rudimentary forms of free will too, as we’ve seen the Chairman making decisions of its own accord.

As an intelligent parasite with the potential for an eternity of sustenance at your fingertips, the only smart thing to do would be ensure you kept the misery-generators under your control and were in the position to manipulate your surroundings to prioritize your continued survival (why scaring is mandatory, closely monitored, and punished if insufficient). Thus, the Chairman rises to power.

The deal was probably pretty good until the season finale. With the misery engine that was the Flow of Failed Phantoms gone, and the final hit depleting the last of the misery-born power the Cloak held, it lost control of its vessel, now so old that the bones basically liquified instantly. Weak and desperate to cling to life (as parasites are), it fell dormant as a defense mechanism.

Another thing to consider: in the season two premiere, we’re told that the person who vanquishes the Chairman becomes the next one and inherits the Cloak (makes sense, a position of ultimate power is probably pretty good for the parasite to remain in). We don’t know if its been a ghost before (we don’t know how long the previous body lasted), but the next leader is… Scratch. Someone wholly uninterested in power or misery of any kind, and unable to be controlled since he can’t be possessed.

Not a great day for the Cloak, I bet.

Any other parasite would pack their bags, not a whole lot of surviving happening if the new Chairman decrees scaring isn’t necessary anymore. But the Cloak sits quiet and plays nice. Why? Because of a simple little detail that’s bothered me ever since season two episode one dropped.

Scratch didn’t kill the old Chairman.

Molly did.

Young, human, easily controlled if it can just get close enough, the Cloak won’t bother settling for second best when the grand prize sleeps four feet away from its current host, not when its existence is on the line. Its still weak from the massive blow of joy Molly dealt, but it can feed off background misery and regain strength until Molly asks to play dress up one day, or Scratch leaves it laying around unsupervised, and then it’s an easy job of quashing one tiny soul and regaining power.

Its had an afterlifetime of practice, after all.

#asks #koskela13 #thank you for the ask! #the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm #tgamm season 2 #tgamm spoilers #art #lineless art #Molly #scratch #the chairman #I felt like a genius putting these thoughts together #but I probably sound like a madman #tgamm theories #anyway tldr I don’t think she’d like it because it’s itchy next question