#and its almost pass my bedtime

[thranduilswifesblog]

It's almost midnight, and I used to listening to random songs 30 minutes before go to bed. And after a very long time, suddenly I'm in the mood to listening to this song again. I remember I listening this song when it came out and turned out this song is GOT's unused soundtrack.

But instead of GOT, why I feel this song really suit Turgon and the fall of gondolin. Like "Gloria Regali, peace and understanding. Forever may you reign" 😭 like it's just him!! This song made for him and Gondolin!! 😭

And then this one.... This one is literally suit for the house of Finwë and Fëanorean 😭

Please whoever will gonna bring the 1st age materials to the live action, can you just use this song? 😭

[phagodyke]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

[skenpiel]

im seriously such a master at wasting time and doing fuck all

[sexilene]

thinking ab john b with a sleepy girlfriend....😇😇

yesss omigod!! 🧸💞 let him set a bedtime for you n everything!! (ignore any spelling mistakes sorryyy lol!!)

the pogues had thrown jj a little stupid “luau” birthday party over at the boneyard, and a bunch of people ended up showing up, a night of drinking, sticky s’mores, and messin�� around. even after the sun had set, the partying hadn’t ended, at some point, you’re seated on john b’s lap to keep you from wandering around with people you don’t know. you do this often, situating yourself in his arms and waiting until he’s done with his conversations- really to give you attention. and of course, you are included in the conversations and are normally pretty well-behaved! but with the hour boarding at 10:00 at night it's known that around this time you get frisky and impatient.

usually, you’d be in bed by now, or getting pounded into the mattress by your boyfriend, so it only makes sense that you’d be a little tired and needy. your head lolls into the crook of his neck, eyes beginning to droop closed. and john b takes immediate notice, his hand coming up to pull your top up from any more cleavage or “helping his baby out” as he puts it. your frosty white nails scratching softly skin on his arm, the arm holding you tightly against him.

“can’t believe i’m still up this late…” you whisper, knowing he’d hear you

“neither can i, you're usually passed out by this time.” he coos and presses a kiss to your temple, bouncing you on his leg a bit

you smile at his words, your sleepy brain responding with what you would hope to convince him that you're still awake, aka still responsive enough for sex… “m’ still awake though, s’such a nice party.” yeah? you're slurring a little honey…” he hums,

at some point he can tell you’re starting to get antsy, wiggling so that your cunt could get some sort of friction against his thigh and that’s when he decides it's time to get you home. and as soon as your makeup is off and teeth are brushed he’s carrying you over his shoulder into his room. john b helping you peel off your skirt and lifting your pretty top over your head, knowing that you needed to be absolutely naked at this very moment.

“can we have sex now?” you whisper, big wide puppy eyes staring up at your boyfriend.

“sorry baby but no can do. past your bedtime.” he winces, giving your ass a light pat to get you on the bed.

“whatever happened to birthday sex!?” you pout, climbing onto the messy sheets of the bed, patting the spot next to you so that your boyfriend could get the hint.

“it’s jj’s birthday, not ours.” he laughs and shakes his head, pulling his t-shirt over his head revealing to you his pretty v line and happy trail. your eyes drift downwards waiting for him to strip off his pants next. “well that’s gotta count,” you shrug, laying your head back against your pillow.

“hate to break it to ya bubba but it doesn’t.”

“please!!! i’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life!!” you whine and climb on top of him once he lays down beside you in nothing but boxers.

“okay well, that's a little dramatic…”

“please please please pretty please johnbee!” you grind your now slippery wet cunt on his bulge, making the fabric of his boxers wet with an obvious little spot.

“you sure? it’s- 10:43…you need your beauty rest right?” he tries to soothe your aching by pressing your body down onto him, his big rough hands squeezing the doughy flesh of your ass as gently as he can. “no, wanna make you feel good.” you shake your head and bring your lips over to the side of his neck to give him a bunch of kisses. its is so beyond easy to get him to give in on something like this!!

and the next thing you know you are on top of him, cowgirl style as he helps you bounce on his cock by lifting you up and down by your ribs, his thumbs brushing over your hard nipples every now and then to give you a shockwave of pleasure. “big- big- so bi- johnnyyyy” you could almost drool at how massive he feels inside you, no matter how many times you fuck, you could never full be used to the size of your boyfriend's huge dick. he can tell by the way you can’t make full sentences that you're starting to get cockdrunk and on top of that….sleepy.

“you getting sleepy now bub?” john b hums, flicking your nipples with his thumb a couple of times,

“noooo…”

“yeeaah, she’s getting sleepy on me…” he says while he smiles that sweet sleepy smile.

“m’not! wanna keep doin’ this,” “m’i bouncing good?” you shake your head as tears spill out of your eyes, streaming down your face, and john b knows you're not crying because of pain, it's just what happens when you feel really good.

“super good sweetheart, feel like cumming?” he coos, bringing his hands down to grip your ass, and surely there is gonna be some obvious handmark bruising and soreness on your poor pretty ass in the morning.

“uh huh!”

“sh sh sh, just close your eyes puppy, and cream all over me, cover my cock.” john b takes the opportunity that your body is going weak due to your approaching orgasm and thrusts up into you unbelievably harder and deeper. as soon as your boyfriend hears your cute little high pitched moans escape your lips he knows that within seconds your tight walls are pulsing around him, cumming down hard on his dick, and that’s exactly what happens. you can feel his warm cum shoot up into your tummy, smiling at the feeling, knowing your boyfriend pretty much cums bucketssss!!

you hide your flushed sweaty face in the crook of his neck, your hands still gripping his shoulders with ferocity. john b then hears your breathing return to normal, rubbing your back with soft motions.

“did daddy tire his girl out? hmm? finally ready to get some shut eye huh bubba?”

“feel so full right now, wish we could stay like this forever…” john b continues to rub your back and nod at your drowsy mumbling, and you know you could pass out right in this very moment and he’d take care of you.

ᥫ᭡. ᥫ᭡.

[livelaughloveluffy]

just the two of us - black leg sanji

a/n: (this totally isn't my comfort bedtime dream scenario at all......idk what you're talking about...) just a little sanji x reader fic!!! sorry, no proofreading here, if you see anything, no you didn't 😭💀

a/n: also spoilers for book one of the mistborn trilogy, the book, im talking about in the fic was book two (since im currently reading it at the moment)

summary: you and sanji have the sunny to yourselves while everyone explores the island you stopped at!

nothing but fluff here 💗

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its not often you have the sunny all to yourself, and quite frankly its a time you cherish. everyone had been getting a bit of cabin fever on your long voyage, and decided to take a pit stop at the closest island.

nami and robin have been dying for some more pieces for their wardrobe. luffy, whose always overzealous for some exploration needed no convincing to jump off the ship the second it docked, practically begged zoro for some company in his shenanigans, brooke left tragically stuck with them to make sure the two of them didn't get lost or start a fight. chopper wanted to look for a particular medical book. and usopp and franky wanted to gather materials for all their inventions. sanji always enjoyed looking at local cuisines to find new ingredients and also stock up on things he's almost out of.

which left you, the only one willing to stand guard on the sunny. not that you minded, a quite ship was the perfect time to relax on the deck, stretched out on a lounge chair, book in hand, enjoying the warm sun, sea breeze, and the sounds of the waves as you read.

•♡•

you weren't sure how much time had passed, since you had gotten so absorbed in the story. but it wasn't until you heard some faint footsteps behind you that you practically jumped out of your skin, slamming your book closed and turning to see who had stepped foot on the sunny.

"sanji! oh thank god... its just you. you scared the shit out of me!!" you yelled at him. the blonde cook looks at you with an adorable smile and replies "sorry, mon amour! i didn't mean to frighten you. i finished early with all the grocery shopping and figured i would head back here to put them away. must be a really good book you're reading, i tried calling your name so i didn't scare you but i guess you didn't hear me."

"really? i didn't hear you at all.." your cheeks suddenly heating up, a bit embarrassed he had caught you off guard.

"you're fine, mellorine!! i'm going to get these to the kitchen now!" he said, with a slight chuckle, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"oh, yeah!! of course! go do your thing! i'll be here!"

•♡•

you go back to your book, finding the page you stopped at by the grace of god herself, but this time making a conscious effort to pay a bit more attention to your surroundings. the sound of pattering footsteps again sound behind you, seemingly coming closer to you.

you turn around to sanji, with a delicious looking fruity drink in hand. he breaks the silence first by saying "mon amour, may i offer you like this pineapple strawberry lemonade? as a peace offering for scaring you." with a slight blush growing on his cheeks, you instantly felt a little weak, how could you say no to him?

"you're lucky that strawberry lemonade is my favorite, and that the drink looks absolutely divine" you replied, a clear empty threat given the blush on your face as well. he smiled and happily obliged handing the drink over to you. "anything else i can get you? maybe a snack?" he offers.

you pause for a second. "....i wouldn't mind some company. if you have the time for it."

sanji, who definitely wasn't expecting that response choked a bit on the his cigarette smoke, taking a small moment to collect himself he answers "i have the time... i wouldn't want to interrupt your book though. what's it about anyways, it must be super interesting to hold your attention like that."

the sudden reminder of your book, which had totally slipped your mind since sanji returned came rushing back to you "oh! it's super interesting actually!! basically, this girl was able to take down this tyrant ruling over her city, but is now left with the fallout of a government without a leader. her love interest the most logical choice to take the throne, she's more of a fighter than a leader, is now faced with lords trying to siege their land and...." sanji's quiet chuckle stopping your info dump, making you a bit embarrassed and self conscious for getting carried away.

but for some reason the way his sky-blue eyes glowed when he looked at you made you blurt out the following "i can read it to you, if you want..."

with a wide smile, he sat down next to you and said "i would love that"

•♡•

the lounge chair was a bit small for the both of you to sit on it, forcing you a bit closer than you had anticipated, which was a problem.... sort of..

unlike nami and robin, you didn't really find sanji off-putting, annoying, or creepy. you actually found him to be quite charming.

with his fluffy golden blonde hair and the way it rested against his forehead covering his right eye, his slim but muscular build, those ocean blue eyes you could drown in, was really just the beginning of the list of all the things you loved about black leg sanji. thats not even mentioning his passion and kind heart.

so the problem was, on this too small for two people lounge chair, that you're hanging on the edge of to avoid physical contact with a guy you've definitely been pining some feelings for, but were too anxious to actually be that close to him.

the lack of thought about the practicality of your suggestion made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out of it.

sanji, being the gentleman he is, was doing his damn best to not touch you, despite the space of the chair actively fighting against him. "are you comfortable, mellorine?" he asks, not looking too comfortable himself.

are you really going to run from this opportunity to cuddle up to sanji?

"um... yeah.. i'm-" but before you could get out the word comfortable, the wind had shifted and the sudden chilling breeze made you practically jump into sanji's lap for warmth burying your face into his chest.

it took .2 seconds to register what had just happened and .5 seconds to decide to just roll with. "i am now" you reply, pulling yourself a little bit closer to him as you can finally begin reading your book aloud to sanji.

•♡•

for a moment, you believe you had died and went to heaven. the warmth and closeness of sanji, his arms had wrapped around your body in attempts to shield you from the cold, had you practically enveloped and dissolving into him. he smelled like sandalwood, cigarette smoke, and rosemary, definitely an odd combination but one that suited him so well and surprisingly complimented each other.

whenever you had the chance to catch his eye at the end of a chapter, or whenever he asked a clarifying question to better understand the plot, you couldn't help but swoon over his genuine interest in you and your hobby.

chapter after chapter flew by and it wasn't until you heard a familiar voice that you stopped dead in your tracks, "ah!! you'll never guess i found the cutest-" nami had begun to call out to you until she spotted a certain someone's blonde hair precariously close to you. "um... what are you two doing?"

"oh! i was talking to sanji about my book, and he seemed really interested in it so i offered to read it to him, then it got super chilly and um..." you frantically explained, nami's raised her eyebrow at you both, mainly because she didn't remember you mentioning you had a thing for sanji but also slightly suspicious of the cook's intentions. however, the rapidly appearing bright blush flushing your cheeks quelled those suspicions. "okay, um... carry on then.. sorry to interrupt.. i- i'll show you the top later" she said, obviously awkward especially since she felt like she killed the vibe for you both.

as nami walked away, you could see usopp beginning to board the sunny again. sanji had seen this as well and suddenly called out "wait, nami, what time is it?"

"its about 4:30"

at her response, sanji started slowly untangling himself from you and getting ready to stand up "oh putain, i totally lost track of time, i need to start prepping for dinner. i can totally see how you can get lost in a story like that, im kinda bummed we couldn't finish it.... i was really starting to get into it" he said, relighting his cigarette, since he put it out earlier not wanting to smoke so close to you.

"maybe we can do it again..." you quietly offered.

"i'd enjoy that a lot, mon amour" he replied with a smile, as he turned away to head back to the kitchen.

and how you'll long for the next time it'll be just the two of you...

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a/n: in my universe, of course god is a woman 😌 who else deserves such devout worship? 😌😌😌

a/n: i also stand by the headcannon that when sanji swears, its in french so thats what that is

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1846

Chapter 21:

After the sole topic about witch hunters and the bitter past, you all chose to try and get some sleep; needing all the energy you could recover for the next trial.

With the sky being always night, it was hard to keep track of time, and if it weren't for the exhausting trials; one would have trouble sleeping.

While the others slept close to one another, some laying on their jackets for some insulation against the cold floor; you had chosen to leave, for a little bit.

You knew not to stray from the road, but sleep would not come to you, and you needed some alone time.

You barely had one lately, with everyone being on top of one another all the time.

The moon was almost and completely full. Its beautiful white light seemed to follow you; illuminating your path. Your steps were quiet, and you eventually came to a halt, leaning your back against a tree.

You closed your eyes as you let the moon shower you with light, offering a cold warmth you could never explain but always welcomed.

So many nights have you spent in a similar position, neck and back arched to the full moon above you. Endless hours had you spent bathing in its white light, swearing you could hear it talk to you through some ethereal plane.

Some nights, you would hum and sing with the moon as your audience; a silent observer that never judged you, never tried to harm you.

Even when you need it the most, it chooses to grace you with power and help you escape your bonds; showing just how terrifying its power could be when it was passed through you.

Your mind wandered and you gently hummed a tune, the lyrics a mere whisper traveling through the night; not wishing to awake or scare the others.

Come little children

I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children

The time's come to play

Here in my garden of shadows

Your white magic had come alive in your hands, dancing between your fingers as if responding to your song.

Yet before you cold continue; you felt a presence close by and your guard was immediately raised.

"I remember that song of yours," Agatha said as she walked out of the shadows and towards you.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling your heart beating faster for a moment as you thought it was someone else.

"It led us into a lot of trouble that night," you reminded her, memories of your adventures flashing into your mind.

Agatha waved her hand dismissively. "It's not our fault those children thought to take a peak. It was way past their bedtime. The fault lies to the parents."

Her excuse brought a smile on your face, having missed her view of the world. Sometimes, your thoughts could get the best of you, and you failed to see the light in this world; like the people that feared the shadows whenever a new moon was in the sky.

Sometimes, you felt as if you were laying in the bottom of a deep pit; forced to face dark creatures fuelled by your emotions and thoughts; only to always climb to the surface renewed; reborn.

But when you were with Agatha, those things almost never happened. Her unique way of seeing the world had kept you focused, her presence a life vest to keep you aflot during dangerous waters... her kisses and touches, burning you from inside, making your magic core glow so powerful that no shadow ever had the chance to manifest.

Your smile remained, and you silently admired her beneath the moonlight as you stood next to one another, bodies barely touching but equally tempted.

Her expression changed into a more serious one. "Why didn't you call for me?" She suddenly asked, earning a puzzled expression from you. "When you were at the mercy of those witch hunters. Why didn't you call for me?"

You glanced to the side, ashamed of confessing your true intentions.

Time might have passed since your last meeting, but your body remained equally strong. You had the power, a little spell, that would alert Agatha of your presence. You had sworn to her under a blood red full moon that you would use it, should you ever need her help.

You never did, always hesitating; feeling you would pull her away from whatever goal she had in mind. You were afraid you would be a burden, to a woman you sometimes wondered if she would ever come back to you; after all those times, you refused to join her on a mission.

Familiar long fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to look straight into the face of the woman you had fallen in love with, whose initials felt carved on your heart; forever claimed by her.

"You remember I don't like asking more than twice, isn't that right?" She asked you, cutting any nicknames she had for you; a sign of how serious she was.

You tried to nod, but her grip on your chin remained. In the end, you took a deep breath and gathered your courage.

"I didn't want to burden you. Not when I knew how focused you were in mastering the darkhold, " you confessed, making her realize around what time period you fell victim to those barbarians that dared to mark your skin... only she was allowed to do that to you.

If Agatha still had powers, they would have been going crazy around her. She was pissed and you could see it by the darkness in her eyes, by the way she gripped your chin and the way her breathing changed.

In the end, she let you go and stormed a few feet away in an attempt to calm down. If she could use magic, she would have long blasted a few trees around you; it always helped when things were burnt or destroyed.

"This is not the promise you made to me, Y/N," she called you out by your name, one finger pointed at you.

"What would you have me do, Agatha?" You questioned, feeling your emotions getting the best of you. It was a full moon, after all. Y, so you can murder them in cold blood? Add more names to your never-ending list?" Your tone started to rise faintly, doing your best to keep it low and not alert the others.

"Yes," she answered as if it was not obvious enough before marching your way. "You are mine, Y/N," she hissed as she now stood in front of you. "And I protect what is mine..." she took a deep breath. "What is precious to me"

You parted your lips in surprise, never seeing it coming.

Agatha had outloud claimed you as hers, had confessed just how much you meant to her, and she meant it. Every. Single. Word.

You found no words to argue, and whatever anger was once rising had disappeared as if there was nothing there.

In a moment of weakness or perhaps desperation, you chose to act with your body. Your hands grabbed her cheeks and you pulled her towards you, sealing her lips with yours.

Agatha was startled for a moment before she followed, quickly claiming the lead from you by sucking your lips with an inner need. Her kiss spoke of hunger, lust, and need to be with you; to be reminded of the unique flavour your lips always had.

You let her lead, eagerly parting your lips to let her tongue enter. One hand went into her thick hair, fingers tangled with dark locks as you held her tightly; trying somehow to balance the power dynamics between the two of you.

Your back was pressed harder against the tree, one of her hands holding your waist as her body was pushed more against yours.

Eventually, you both needed air and with some reluctance you let each other's lips go; but your hands remained on one another.

She immediately buried her nose to the crook of your neck, continuing what she started by kissing the soft spot of your neck, making you see stars and reminding you she had not forgotten how to play you like an instrument.

You gasped faintly, your grip into her dark locks only increasing, and you forced your eyes closed; trying to fight the feeling of building up pleasure, your body succumbing to her lips and her roaming touch.

Agatha did not continue the torture for long, having taken her dose by finally being able to enjoy you in peace. She would have much preferred to do it in a warm house, preferably on a soft bed, but she had to be patient for now.

Her lips trailed ghostly marks across your collarbone before settling faintly on your lips. The peck that followed was quick, and only then did she stop and pull faintly back.

You looked at her, lips faintly bruised as your noses almost touched. You let go of her hair and instead cupped her cheek tenderly.

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting to hear you say that," you confessed, slightly out of breath.

"What, claiming you?" She questioned as she quickly connected the dots. She gently pushed a strand away from your face. "Sugar, I made you vow to me and call me when in trouble. I made you bleed upon a dark pact. Wasn't this enough of a sign?"

Your cheeks felt slightly flustered. "Should be?" You dared to question, earning a look from her that reminded you not to ruin the mood. "I know it should... but I always wondered... especially now, with Rio..." Your voice trailed off.

"Rio is in the past, hon," she told you in a sweet voice. "You are the present and hopefully the future. That is, if you don't turn me down after all this"

You could not help but chuckle faintly. "I think me agreeing to walk this shitty sadistic road for a second time should be enough of an answer"

Without waisting another time, you moved your hands and pulled Agatha into a much needed hug. You pressed her tightly against you, your nose buried to the crook of her neck; almost hidden beneath her thick locks.

You felt her hugging you back with equal need, your presence easing the turmoil within her heart. She rested her chin on your shoulder, eyes closed as your scent overwhelmed her senses and momentarily clouded her mind.

"I am with you, Ags. From now until my last day on this cursed world. I vow to you in the name of my mother" you confessed.

Agatha stared with wide eyes in front of her, lips parted faintly in silent surprise. Your words were serious, she could tell, but she could also sense the magic within them; an invisible silent spell bowed to a promise.

She could not help but glance at the full moon as you vowed sacredly to your mother, a name you rarely let it leave your lips...for when it did, it meant business.

Chapter 22

[cherryxblossxms]

Bedtime Relaxation

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: I don't give nearly enough love to my Luci, and I just wanted to write him being casual and simply wanting some loving from his MC. Not proofread and a bit of a rushed ending

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: fem afab reader, fluff and smut, no protection, neck kisses and a lil biting, praise, dirty talk, fingering, creampie, a bit of breeding, cockwarming; remember to pee after sexxxx; Lucifer is a tease but there's a lot of love~

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 3382 this was going to be short what happened

It wasn't unusual for you to go to bed alone most nights. When getting into your relationship with the Avatar of Pride, you knew what a workaholic he was. Thanks in part to his troublesome brothers, there was always work and bills to be looked over. The rest was thanks to Diavolo, having to review matters concerning R.A.D. on a near constant basis as an important member of the R.A.D. student council.

Any attempts to assist him were often met with stubborn refusals, but you fought against those with tooth and nail. Sometimes you managed to help decrease his workload, easing his burden at least a little bit. But you had to be honest with yourself that, more often than not, there was some paperwork that was simply too far above your head to manage. That's why tonight, you'd gotten ready— dressed only in one of his shirts as your pajamas— and slipped into bed all by yourself once more, your lonely sigh echoing in the empty room.

You were almost comedic looking amidst the bountiful sheets as the singular figure on your lover's massive bed. You knew Lucifer would always join you eventually, when his coffee ran out and his mind refused to look at any more papers, serving to fill the bed just a bit more. In fact, Lucifer often told you he slept better ever since you started sleeping by his side, so he always made sure you two were together during the night. But you still couldn't help the loneliness in your chest, and unfortunately, your day had been an exhausting one. It wasn't long before you had to succumb to sleep without him, missing his touch and dreaming of being in his arms.

You awoke some time later to movement on the mattress. You couldn't tell how much time had passed, but given how dark it was, you'd hazard a guess it was a few hours since you fell asleep. A cold hand made its way around your waist before a hard body pressed up against you from behind, spooning you close. Without looking, you knew immediately who it was, but that didn't stop you from angling your head back, trying to catch any kind of glimpse of your lover in the darkness.

"Lucifer?" You asked, almost involuntarily.

"Yes, it's me," he replied, and took the chance to kiss you softly before settling behind you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I wanted to finish up my work and didn't realize how late it was. You can go back to sleep."

Your body rejoiced in that, wanting to return to your slumber as soon as possible. But your mind wanted otherwise. It had been a while since you'd gotten any quality alone time with the eldest demon, and even if it was brief, any time together was better than none at all.

You shook your head despite the darkness of the room, clutching to the arm around your body.

"That's ok, I want to stay awake a little longer. I've missed you." You hated how needy you sounded when you were tired, but it was the truth.

You could feel Lucifer chuckle rather than hear it, and another kiss was pressed to the back of your neck.

"I've missed you, too, my love," he said, nuzzling against you. "Nothing is right until you are in my arms like this." His words brought heat to your face, your heart aching with so much love for your hard-working demon.

Several more kisses followed, showered against your lips, your neck, and the curve of your ear, and everything in you wanted to purr at the feeling. His arm tightened around your middle, hips bumping your butt as he got as close as possible, and sparks came to life low in your belly. You couldn't help but squirm against him, his kisses and his touch always serving to rile you up in the best way, and you couldn't help but want more.

A well-placed bump of your butt into his groin made Lucifer grunt, and he retaliated with the drag of sharp canines against your skin, making you shiver. Any remaining sleepiness in you totally dissipated, replaced by the need for more. If Lucifer hadn't been holding you down, you would have turned around to get better access and deliver some kisses and bites of your own. So instead, the two of you settled for grinding and groping, your bodies heating up beneath the sheets.

Lucifer's nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned the shirt you were wearing, the pride and possessiveness within him swelling at seeing you wear his clothes— along with something else between his legs. A quick squeeze to your breast pulled a mewl out of you, and it was easy to arch up into his touch, encouraging him to continue.

With the heated, intimate atmosphere, you were quick to lose yourself in what was happening, especially as your lover's fingers squeezed and pinched at your nipples relentlessly. Having so little free time with your demon left you both needy, after all, and one thing always led to another rather quickly. But something nagged at the back of your mind, before suddenly springing forth in a tiny moment of clarity, making you gasp.

"Oh!" Lucifer's fingers stopped their movement at your exclamation. "Wait, aren't you working tomorrow? It must be so late, you need to rest."

Not that you wanted to stop, but the last thing you wanted was to be the cause of his sleep deprivation. An exasperated sigh blew across your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"No, I'm not working tomorrow. And these long nights are exactly the reason I asked to take tomorrow off." That surprised you, causing you to glance back at him. You're sure if one of Lucifer's brothers had heard that, they would be surprised too; the eldest brother never took vacation, at least not before he met you. "I've been away from you for too long, and I plan to start making it up to you, my darling."

The fingers that had been teasing your breasts began sliding down your body at a tantalizing pace, kisses decorating the back and side of your neck again as he did so. After what felt like a torturously long time, but was likely mere seconds, he reached the apex of your thighs. You hadn't even realized the way your core was throbbing, aching for his touch.

He paused for just a second at the lack of underwear, before moving onward. A single, long finger separated your folds down the middle, teasing your hole before swiping up and just barely glancing your clit. You could feel your wetness, hear it even, before he even said anything, knowing just what exactly he was feeling, and a deep, seductive hum filled your ear as he seemed to voice your thoughts.

"Hmmm, see? You're so wet for me already," he said, lips pressed to your ear now. "I've been neglecting you, clearly, not taking care of my lover's needs like I should. It's only fair that I repay you what you're owed, pleasure you to your heart's content."

His words warmed your heart, while simultaneously feeding the throbbing in your clit, desperate for more of his touch. Lucifer's work usually took priority over many things, so you hadn't expected him to think about it like this. Not that you didn't appreciate it, though.

"You haven't been neglecting me, Luci," you said. "I know how important your work is, I knew that when we got together, and you know that I support you still."

Another hum in your ear, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I just want you to be able to relax a little, so you don't burn out. You haven't been neglecting me, so you don't have to take time off just to please me. Although, that means so much to me."

A beat of silence passed, and you opened your mouth to question his silence before that same long finger suddenly swiped over your clit, your slick on his finger making it glide with ease. The motion made you jolt, drawing a slight moan from your lips.

"Ahh— hey!" You protested, grabbing his arm.

He waited another moment before repeating the movement, but this time making slow, leisurely circles around the sensitive bud. Your thighs opened involuntarily, giving further access to your heat, and you couldn't help the shuddering moan you let out.

"And what if I said that me taking time off is actually for a selfish purpose?"

The words only half registered in your mind, basking in the stimulation he was giving you, and it didn't help you understand them any better.

"While it happens to be for pleasing you, I'm taking time off because I wanted to feel you beneath me all night... and all day," Lucifer teased, pleased with your reactions to his ministrations. "Instead of the sound of pen scratching on paper, I wanted to hear you moan my name until you lost your voice. And instead of feeling the cold loneliness of my study, I wanted to feel your sweet, warm little pussy squeezing my cock."

You couldn't help the groan that came out. If you could orgasm from words and voice alone, you knew that line would have done it.

"So give in to me, my love, and let me pleasure you like I've been aching for," he purred into your ear.

Your lover always knew exactly what to say, and although you were still concerned about his exhaustion and the late hour, you were beginning to lose the battle of willpower against his masterful fingers. As much as you wanted to insist that he rest, you had to admit his argument was... compelling. You finally sighed as you gave in the pleasure, relaxing against your lover as his hand continued.

"Fine," you said, reaching back to place your hand on Lucifer's cheek. "Give it all to me."

Lucifer didn't waste a second before plunging two of his fingers into you, sufficiently slick from your arousal. The heel of his hand ground against your clit simultaneously, and the pressure was heavenly. He set a good rhythm, mind-meltingly good, making you whimper from the pleasure, and a sharp cry was drawn out as he found and attacked the most sensitive spot along your walls. A moment later, a third finger slid in, working on opening you up, and you couldn't resist rocking your hips against him in response. Your hip ached from holding your leg up for him, but you couldn’t be bothered to care until you got your orgasm.

You could feel your climax building already, the lack of touch from his long working nights making you extra sensitive to it now. And your lover had all of you memorized, every moan and tremble, every little spot that made you cry his name and gush arousal.

"My sweetheart is getting so tight for me, you're already going to cum?" Lucifer asked, as if he didn't already know the answer. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You just whined in response, pushing your butt back into him, feeling his clothed erection straining behind you.

Lucifer huffed, keeping up his pace. "Look at you, you can't even answer me. I can feel how close you are, though, how badly you want this."

And he was right, you were rapidly approaching the edge. The sounds of your wetness filled the quiet room, and your body felt blazing hot. You couldn't imagine what kind of mess was between your legs as he continued playing with your cunt.

Just as you could feel your pleasure begin to peak, his fingers suddenly stopped, simply stuffing your pussy instead. The orgasm he'd been working you towards instantly began to slip away, and you tried to rock your hips again, desperate to chase it. But Lucifer anticipated your move, removing his fingers all together, and the action made you want to cry.

Wasn't he just telling you about how he wanted you to cum??

Your lover shifted behind you, but you were too at a loss to think of what he was doing. It wasn't until you felt his bare, solid length between your thighs, eagerly pressing against you and getting covered in your slick, did you realize he was preparing to take you. And as expected, Lucifer began to rock his hips forward slowly, dragging his length through your folds. His heat and his size were intoxicating, and as if you weren't already a mess from his fingers, his length was doing wonders against you.

Each time he drew back, you could feel the mushroom head press towards your entrance, and you hoped he’d finally slide in and fuck you like he promised. But your hopes were dashed as he simply moved forward again, bumping your clit instead, seemingly unaware of your growing desperation. The man was teasing you, and it drove you nuts the way he knew exactly how to press your buttons.

"Luciiiiii," you whined.

Lucifer squeezed you close, chuckling low in his chest. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “It sounds like you want something.”

“Wh– Of course I want something!" You protested. "I was going to cum and you just stopped! You just said you want to please me, and now you're teasing me instead."

"I don't believe the two are mutually exclusive." This made you huff, your eyes rolling hard in your head. "Don't be mistaken, my love. I'm going to make sure you cum as much, and as hard, as possible in the next 24 hours. But a little denial helps to sweeten the deal, doesn't it?"

You hated that he was right. Orgasms with Lucifer were powerful, and it was all thanks to his devastating combination of denial then reward. Whether it was because he was a demon, or because he had potentially hundreds of years of experience, you weren't sure. All you knew was that Lucifer could play you like his favorite instrument, and make you sing like no one else possibly could. All you could do was whine softly in response, Lucifer continuing to tease his length against you at a leisurely place until you said otherwise.

Just as you were ready to explode at him, however, you finally felt his tip press to your entrance. All the teasing and prep made it easy for him to slide in, his mushroom tip popping past the first ring of muscle with ease, making you gasp softly, but he took his time pressing in, making sure you were comfortable.

“Ohhhh, fuck…”

Even with the prep, he always gave you a good stretch, and as he bottomed out, that delicious full feeling was incomparable. The mutual relief of finally feeling each other effectively silenced you both, and all you could hear for a moment was your combined heavy breaths.

That first thrust was heavenly.

He gave you a moment to get adjusted before slowly pulling out, almost all the way, then pushed forward again. The gift of long-anticipated friction drew an involuntary moan out from your lips, the first of many for the night, and it spurred your lover on to up his pace. Once Lucifer knew you were okay, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him as his hips started moving faster.

You reached an arm back to touch his hip, feeling the pull of his muscle as he moved, and focused on the feel of his cock pumping between your walls. You closed your eyes, reveling in your relief and your pleasure.

“Mmh, there’s my good girl. You feel so good, so warm and wet for me,” Lucifer groaned in your ear. You couldn’t help the way it made you tighten around him, drawing a grunt from him as he pushed forward, and you certainly couldn’t help the gush of arousal that came forth, either.

Suddenly, he stopped as he adjusted the angle, raising your one leg up and moving closer, seemingly trying to find the right spot before resuming his thrusting. And he’d evidently found what he was looking for as his cock seemed to reach a new depth in you, pressing against a particularly sensitive spot deep within and immediately pulling out a cry from your lips.

“Ah, there it is,” he said, and you could hear the smug tone in his voice.

Whatever it was, he was relentless as he focused his thrusts towards it. Each press of his cock hit that same spot, just a little painful but overwhelmingly pleasurable. It was like he’d pressed the off button to your nerves, rendering your limbs as spaghetti as he increased his pace once again, your legs now forced apart by his own limb to keep that deep access. The sound of the bed rocking and heavy breathing filled the air, only adding to the close, sensual atmosphere.

“Ngh, Luciiii, it’s t-too deep,” you managed to say, your words stuttered by the thrusting. But Lucifer wasn’t giving any mercy, feeling the way your pussy hugged his cock told him everything he needed to know, keeping up his pace against your body.

“I know you can take it, love. You always take me so well. Just a little bit longer, we’re almost there.” True enough, the change in angle had you rocketing towards your climax now, that familiar pressure building up in your pelvis, and you found yourself rocking your hips in time with Lucifer seeking out the end. His own pace was beginning to suffer, clearly approaching his own end too, and you wanted to hold on long enough to meet that orgasmic crash together.

Right as you thought this, however, two nimble fingers found their way between your legs once more. Before you could even think to say anything, Lucifer’s fingers found your clit, soaked and throbbing for attention, and began to rub devastating circles on the sensitive nub. Any remaining thoughts scattered at once, the attention to your clit and the rough, deep thrusts all that were occupying your mind now, your climax closer than ever. It was all you could do to hold onto him for dear life, little whispers of “yes” and “please” escaping your lips as your pleasure began to peak.

At the same time, Lucifer pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his sharp canines denting your skin and threatening to break through. “Ohhhhh yes, cum with me, love, I can feel it. I want you to milk me, I’m going to fill you up so well, fill you with every drop I have. Cum with me,” he muttered, his pleas ending in a rush of words before his climax finally hit.

As he came, Lucifer bit down on your neck, holding you still as he grunted against your skin. You could feel the sudden rush of warmth deep inside, the sign of his cum painting your walls, and between all the sensations and the thought of taking his seed, it finally made your climax crash over you too. You couldn’t help the loud moan you let out, squeezing hard on your lover’s cock and milking him exactly as requested.

You were both a mass of trembling limbs as you rode out your orgasms, Lucifer’s hips gently rocking against you and working his seed deeper even as he started to soften inside you. You squirmed as it began to overstimulate you, and he finally, blessedly, stopped his movements. Your mind wasn’t yet back together, unable to say anything in the aftermath, but your demon lover seemed much the same, simply nuzzling your skin and kissing where he’d bit you.

He leaned up a little and his lips finally met yours, kissing you softly. Ideally, you knew you should get up and clean yourself up, but that delicious climax and the warmth of Lucifer’s body were calling you back to sleep. It didn’t help that your lover’s arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him like he was afraid you’d leave. As the darkness came to swallow you up, you figured, fuck it. Maybe just this once, you could indulge yourself, happy in the thought that your lover would be there to greet you tomorrow.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated 💜

[disasterofastory]

Bedtime story (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Bedtime story // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 13/14 Warnings: mommy kink, nursing/breastfeeding kink (I'm not sure which)

Summary: You read (Jane Eyre) while Brahms is busy with something else.

"After a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel." Your voice is gentle in the quiet room as your eyes scan the long line of words as you read under the dim light of the lamp on the bedside table. The old book is a comforting weight in your hold while your other hand rakes through Brahms's dark hair as he rests on your shoulder. The soft strands curl around your fingers every now and again as you play with them mindlessly. His arm is over your middle, fidgeting with the hem of your pajama shirt. He smells like evergreen and sandalwood. His body is pressed to your side, keeping you warm and comfortable. His breath fans over your collarbone with every exhale. "I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

It's dark and cold outside. You can barely see the garden of the manor through the thick fog flowing close to the ground. The pale face of a moon and the stars around it are hidden by the clouds gathering at the top of the sky. The scent of oncoming rain is carried by the wind as the branches of the trees rock back and forth in the darkness.

While you are busy with the book in front of you, Brahms's hand slips under your shirt, caressing your side and moving to your stomach. "It's ticklish," you tell him. Your stomach quivers under his fingertips. "Continue," he hums as an answer, moving his touch up on your torso. His fingers brush over the soft skin under your breasts. Your shirt is almost at your neck now. "Jane!" recommenced he, with a gentleness that broke me down with grief, and turned me stone-cold with ominous terror—for this still voice was the pant of a lion rising—"Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and to let me go another?" Brahms's movements are lazy as he pushes your shirt out of the way entirely. His thumb brushes over your nipple until it becomes a hard pebble under his fingertip. "Give one glance to my horrible life when you are gone. All happiness will be torn away with you. What then is left?" Your voice trembles as you continue reading. The man in your arm tugs on your nipple, soothing the slight pain immediately after. "Continue," Brahms hums against your skin when you stop for a second. His lips slide over the side of your breast as he leans closer to your chest until his mouth closes around your nipple. "What shall I do, Jane? Where turn for a companion and for some hope?" The words roll down your tongue heavily as your voice shakes. Brahms's teeth graze over the sensitive skin around your nipple while his tongue laps on the hard bud. His other hand finds its way to your other tit, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh. "You will not come? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?" You feel like a raw nerve as you read. Your breasts ache under his ministrations. Your nipple is soaked by his saliva as he sucks and sucks on your tit. His tongue circles and laps and draws. Your hand is still in his hair, holding onto his curls and pushing his face even closer as your back arches. "I had already gained the door; but, reader, I walked back—walked back as determinedly as I had retreated. I knelt down by him; I turned his face from the cushion to me; I kissed his cheek; I smoothed his hair with my hand." Your fingers tighten around his curls. You gasp and groan. "Fuck! Brahms! Please!" "Read," he murmurs, not even bothering to lift his mouth from your breast even though you can feel his erection pressing to your thigh. For a second, you turn back to the book, lips open to continue reading, when suddenly, you change your mind. A smirk tugs on your lips as you look at the top of Brahms's head as he still suckles on your nipple. "Brahmsy," you coo. Your voice is deep and sultry. You can feel him freezing next to you. "Be a good boy for mommy." His whine trembles through your body from your breast to your pussy. The visible change in the air makes your thighs clench for some friction. "You want to be a good boy, don't you?" You ask him. His hips jerk against your thigh. "I want your words, baby." His mouth leaves your breast with a quiet pop. Your skin shines with his saliva. "Yes," he replies, staring at you with wide eyes. "You should eat my pussy to prove it," you smirk at him, already pushing away the blanket to open your legs wider. "If you will be good enough, I will let you fuck me." His eyes dart down between your legs while his head is still resting on your breast. There is a fight in him. He wants to stay and suck on your tit while you read him, but his hand already reaches between your thighs, palming your sex through your thin panties. You are warm under his possessive hold. "Mommy is waiting," you break the silence again. "Mommy," he groans, sliding down your body to become face-to-face with your center. His voice is high and whiny.

There are times when Brahms calls you mommy without really wanting to say anything. He just likes the way the word rolls down his tongue and grabs your attention.

"Good boy," you hum, lifting your lower body to help him tug down your panties. You are not even sure why you wear them when you go to bed. Brahms loves waking up early in the morning when the sun isn't even showing yet to warm his cock in your tight hole as he falls back asleep.

His eyes are on your wet slit as he throws your panties over his shoulder, not even caring where it lands. He uses his fingers to open you up, gliding a third finger over your folds. Your wetness soaks his digit before he takes it in his mouth to lick off your juices. A satisfied rumble breaks free from his chest.

You spread your legs wider, digging your feet deeper into the mattress to brace yourself. Brahms's fingers grab onto your thighs as he adjusts himself on his stomach, his broad shoulders pushing against your flesh.

Your head falls back on the pillows when you feel his tongue on your pussy. He laps over your slit, wanting more of your taste. Your hands go to your breasts to tease yourself while he is busy between your legs. His tongue rubs on your clit before closing his lips around it to suck you there this time. His eyes are on your breast, watching your nipples peaking out between your fingers. He suckles and slurps, pushing you to the edge with each brush of his tongue over your sensitive bud. Your pussy aches and flutters as you get higher and higher. "Good boy, Brahms," you praise him. "You are such a good boy for mommy." He whines under your words, diving into your pussy even more. His face is slick with your wetness, and his tongue glides down on your slit to poke into your hole. Your hips jerk against his prodding tongue while he tries to keep you in place. Your taste and smell fill his senses. There is nothing else in the world for Brahms but you. Only you. "Your finger, baby." Your words come out weak and quiet. The familiar burn in your lower stomach is distracting. Brahms just hums, latching on your clit once again while pressing his finger into your hole as you asked. One finger, then two. He is eager and overwhelming. Your eyes fall shut, and your lips open with a hoarse cry. Pleasure flares over your body, and your thighs tighten around Brahms's head. At the feel of your sweet hole fluttering around his thick fingers, he laps up your arousal more frantically. He helps you ride out your orgasm and prepares your pussy to take his cock next. His hips grind against the bed, humping the mattress without his noticing.

His face and beard glint with your juices when he breaks away from your pussy to look at your face more clearly. Your chest heaves and your hands are still on your breasts. Your eyes shine with satisfaction and desire when you look at him.

"You are a good boy, Brahms," you tell him, smiling. "You are mommy's good boy, hm?" "Yes," he nods. "Can I-?" You hum, putting your hand on the back of his head to pull him over your body. His weight is warm and comforting on top of you. The tent in his pants nudges your center. "Do you want mommy's pussy?" You grin. "Do you want to fuck me, Brahmsy?" He almost wails. "Please!" His hips prod against you, chasing any friction he can get. "Please."

While you are busy in each other's arms, it starts to rain outside.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“I mean, you’ve got to feel a little sorry for them really haven’t you?” Jaskier said from where he was mopping up the last of the evidence of the half dead rat Roach had thoughtfully decided to gift them (the first time it happened he’d shrieked in surprise before Geralt put it out of its misery with a matter of fact “Welcome to country living, city boy”). Geralt gave a non committal hum from where he was warming milk up for Ciri on the stove. The little girl sat colouring at the large kitchen table - too large for two, but that would change when Geralt’s brothers and any guests they decided to bring descended on them.

“I mean they’re just minding their own business like, Oh I’m a hungry rat. Please don’t kill me.” Here Jaskier put on a slightly squeaky voice and held up his hands in imitation of paws, still holding onto the mop, “And then wham one of the last things they see is Roach’s teeth coming towards them. So many teeth.” He gave the resident farm cat a critical stare and received a dismissive tail flick in response.

Ciri giggled at his antics which caused him to grin back at her in return. It always felt like a special sort of personal victory when he managed to coax a laugh out of the little girl.

Despite being together for six months, he was still being introduced to her as her father’s ‘friend’ (which was true enough, they wouldn’t be dating if they didn’t get along) and Jaskier was happy to go along with it. Geralt had explained without revealing too much that the little one had been let down by too many adults in her life already, himself included, and ‘boyfriend’ was maybe just a little too official sounding for the time being (and if he said his heart hadn’t broken a little for the five year old smiling at him from Geralt’s phone, he’d by lying), especially after the shit that had gone down with his ex. Geralt hadn’t gone into detail but from what Jaskier had gathered, the woman had had a hidden agenda in wanting to get back with Geralt and Ciri had almost gotten seriously hurt as a result. Geralt had blamed himself for jumping back into the relationship too quickly and so, any potential partners now had to pass what Jaskier had dubbed ‘The Ciri test’.  

He liked to think he’d passed the first portion with flying colours, the tiny blonde seeming perfectly comfortable with him in public places. Now they were dipping their toes into Jaskier staying in their home for longer periods, with Jaskier having graduated from the guest bedroom to sharing with Geralt the previous visit (the brunette wanting the ground to swallow him up when she happily informed her Uncle Eskel of ‘Daddy’s sleepover’ when the man had dropped by unexpectedly the following morning. Geralt had just shrugged and told him to be thankful it hadn’t been Lambert; who could and would, happily take the piss forever).

“Alright Ciri, put your things away and then go get your bedtime book. I’ll be in in a minute.” Geralt said, pouring the warm milk into a plastic My Little Pony cup.

“I want Jask.” Ciri declared form where she was trying to force the crayons back into their box by the (relatively small) handful, Causing both adults to stop what they’d been doing and stare at one another. This was new.

“You sure you don’t want daddy?” Jaskier asked, looking to Geralt for some sign as to what he should do.

“You do better funny voices. Daddy’s all sound the same.”

It took everything Jaskier had not to burst out laughing at that as he took in the minute eye twitch from the other man at that statement, “Geralt?”

Geralt nodded, “Mind if I stay and listen? You know how much I love The Gruffalo.”

Jaskier snorted and felt a surge of fondness. The lies we tell for our children.

It ended up being a joint effort, with Geralt guest starring as The Gruffalo “On account of you being so, well...gruff.” and admitting to a slightly too smug looking Jaskier and a mostly asleep Ciri that “Yes, Jaskier does better voices for everyone else. Especially Mouse.”

"Everything ok? You’ve gone all quiet on me.” Jaskier said from where he had his head in Geralt’s lap as they watched some mindless Netflix show. “I didn’t overstep did I?” He was suddenly frantic, his anxieties bubbling back up to the surface now that he didn’t have a performance and an audience to focus on, “I know you probably just said yes so things wouldn’t be awkward. I probably should have told her no and come up with an excuse but how can anybody say no to that face-“

“Jaskier. It’s fine, honestly.” Geralt said, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arm in a way he knew calmed him, “I’ve built up something of an immunity to Ciri’s puppy eyes. I would’ve said no if I had a problem with it. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how I might have a question for Ciri.”

The next morning saw Jaskier seeing both of them off with a hug (also accompanied by fishing a stray cheerio out of Ciri’s hair which he had been too tired to question) before heading back to his city apartment and his job as a music tutor.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked, putting her school backpack by the door as he knelt down to help her button up her coat, “You know how Aiden is Uncle Lambert’s boyfriend?"

It had slowly been killing Jaskier not to check his phone as soon as the text notification came through but he was nothing if not professional and he would not check his phone when he was in the middle of a lesson. Thank the Gods he did wait as he was prettu sure he gave his retreating student a minor heart attack with the squeal he let out at Geralt’s message:

‘Ciri has been proudly announcing to her classmates this morning that Jaskier is her daddy’s boyfriend. Much disappointment from the single mums.’

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Scrub My Brain With Bleach - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi pays the price for snooping...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

As she moves to go, her foot catches something under the desk. It's a trunk, the wooden surface scuffed by frequent use. But the design's exquisitely ornate. The lid's inset with a mosaic of mother-of-pearl. It depicts a blue-haired sprite in a grove, a green dragonfly cradled in her palms. The motif is repeated in a band around the brass rim, where the dragonflies open and close their wings, their iridescent patterns shimmering as if in flight.

It reminds Vi of the folktales of Janna, passed into her tiny ear by Mom at bedtime. How the dragonflies were Janna's eyes, their luminous wings bearing the sparks of her magic. How they flitted through the old gardens of Oshra Va'Zaun, bestowing the Goddess's favor. How, should the light catch their wings just so, they'd grant a boon on a lucky soul.

And a kiss of fortune, upon their lips.

Jinx, Vi guesses, chose the box for its whimsy as much as its utility. She's plainly taken pains to keep it tidy. Despite the scratches on the varnish, its structure is solid, and its brass lid is freshly gilded. There's a padlock, burnished to a lustrous gleam, and a keyhole in the shape of a dragonfly's thorax. The key itself is a golden cruciform dangling off the chain that seals the lock.

For a moment, Vi wonders if the trunk is, in fact, a trousseau. Jinx hardly seems the type. Her idea of wedding finery would involve explosives more than lingerie—if she bothered to put anything on at all.

And yet the possibility's not as outlandish as it'd been while Vi was knuckling sleep-crumbs from her eyes in the guestroom.

The trunk is clearly a cherished possession. Maybe Jinx keeps her favorite jewelry here. Maybe she's got a cache of special grenades. Maybe she's hiding a skeleton. Or three.

Maybe Vi's a nosy, meddling shit.

But she can't help it. The trunk's so much like the hope-chest in Caitlyn's attic. Hers was a varnished lilac beauty, lined in rose-petal velvet, and neatly packed with sentimental relics. Her grandfather's bifocals. A pearl brooch from her mother's wedding day. Her father's favorite stethoscope.

And a threadbare pair of Vi's hand-wraps folded around a wispy strip of Caitlyn's panties.

Vi has teased her mercilessly over the last item. There was something so ticklish at the idea of the prim-and-proper Caitlyn Kiramman, with her fastidious manners and her blue-blooded airs, holding her very first fuck-me panties close to her heart—much less in the love-knot of Vi's grubby bindings.

"Just a memento," Caitlyn had squirmed, flushing scarlet. "Don't let it go to your head."

Vi smirked, thoroughly enjoying the display. "My head's the last place that's going, Cupcake. Never thought my wraps would rub shoulders with you skivvies. Let alone your granny's good silver."

"Oh, shut it!" Caitlyn snapped, flushing darker still. "If you must know, they're a reminder."

"Of what? How hard I rocked your world?"

"Not... precisely. I just wanted something real. To help me remember."

Vi was confused. "Remember what? I'm right here."

"I-I know." Caitlyn's lashes dipped. "But things could have turned out differently."

"How d'you mean?"

"That night. On the Bridge. It could have gone... terribly wrong."

"Yeah," Vi admitted, quieter. "But it didn't."

"Because of you."

"Huh?"

"Because you chose to come back." Caitlyn's eyes were shining, but earnest. "You chose to come back for me."

"It's not like you gave me a choice, Cait."

"But there was a choice." The sheen faded from Caitlyn's eyes. Only the earnestness remained. "You made yours. And I made mine. And I'd never have pictured it would lead to..." She trailed off, the flush creeping higher, except now the shyness was subsumed by an almost wistful wonder. "What I'm trying to say is: I wanted to keep a part of you with me. A part that's mine, and mine alone. So that if things ever went sideways, I could always remind myself: 'Caitlyn Kiramman, you took a leap of faith once. And it was the best thing you've ever done.'"

She'd looked at Vi then, and the naked emotion in her eyes was the sweetest torture. Vi's own face flamed. She was used to being the forward one in the flirtation game. To having the upper hand. Not being the one caught flat-footed and off her game.

"That's all the bindings are," Caitlyn whispered. "A reminder. Sometimes... even the craziest leaps can lead you home."

Against her will, Vi's eyes misted.

"Crazy leap, huh?" she managed, trying to regain her bravado. "Is that all I am to you?"

In reply, Caitlyn kissed her. Vi kissed back, a little roughly, just to prove a point.

When they parted on gasps, Caitlyn was smiling.

"You are," she breathed. "And I'd have you no other way."

They'd kissed, and kissed some more, and fallen into bed. But the shocky sweetness of the confession had never left Vi.

Not since.

Vi shuts her eyes, fighting the burn of tears again. In her hands, the trunk is heavy. The weight of a past. One that doesn't belong to her, not by a long shot. Whatever's inside is meant for Jinx, and only Jinx. Vi has no right to open it. Has no right, even, to be here.

Except there's a small voice in the back of her mind.

Wait.

Jinx's past, and the future, have always been tangled. Last night, the knot pulled taut, and her sister had nearly died. Vi had been dragged into the middle of it. So had the rest of the city. Maybe there's something in here that'll clue Vi in on how to unravel the mess. To keep Jinx from repeating her mistakes. From falling into the trap of believing her greatest failure was a childhood lapse that broke everything.

Or believing her only worthy gift is the power to fix it.

Maybe, just maybe, Vi can help.

The key fits into the lock with a delicate click. It turns. The padlock springs open. Vi lifts the lid. Inside are, in fact, mementos. But they're mementos of a life Vi's never seen. An eclectic mix of salvage, toys, and tools. Broken clocks, their innards dissected. Wind-up insects, their cogs and sprockets disemboweled. Half-empty canisters of spraypaint. A small cache of fireworks. A pile of old, dog-eared children's books.

Basically: a heap of shiny.

Vi recognizes her sister's magpie habit of hoarding glitter. The junk stuffed under Powder's bed was of a similar stripe: gears from Vander's old watch, diodes from garbage chutes, fistfuls of colored glass from the arcade, and a single, shiny golden gyroscope.

Vi's fingers touch the gyroscope, and the memory strikes her like lightning.

Ekko.

This was the gyroscope he'd gifted Powder, the twilit afternoon at the reservoir. The day he'd planted a smooch on her little sister, and stirred up a shitstorm when Vi caught them in the act. The day their world, tilting at precarious angles, had not yet gone sideways.

The day is gone, but the gyroscope is here.

Carefully, Vi lifts it out. She's stunned that it's survived the transition of past to present. The gold plating is untarnished. The mechanism is well-oiled. The tiny blue marble at the center, its facets winking, is still intact. As if, throughout the years, Jinx has treasured it more than all the deadly detritus in her possession.

Vi can't fathom why.

At the very bottom is a silk pillowcase. It's stuffed with mysterious flotsam. A small silver pendant shaped like a bird, its eyes made of tiny turquoise cabochons. A set of child-sized brass knuckles, the surfaces etched with a filigree of skulls. A plastic baggie stuffed with leaves, each one browned and crinkly with age.

And—what the fuck?

The curvature of a disquietingly sleek red object with a trigger that, when clicked, sets a row of gears whirring.

It takes a moment for Vi to recognize it as a vibrator.

"Shit," she says, and drops it fast.

It clatters back into the pillowcase, whirring. Vi switches it off, and knots the top tight. Her face smarts. She can't believe her little sister has a sex-toy. One she's seemingly designed to her own specs, judging by the unusual curves and polished contours and the silent-as-fuck mechanism meant to keep her old man from finding out.

Jinx, the Daddy's Girl. Jinx, the terrorist. Jinx, the sorceress.

Who, apparently, has been getting her rocks off.

"Goddamnit," Vi mutters. "I need to scrub my brain out with bleach."

[marthawrites]

Congrats Martha!! 🎉🎉

Could I request Rhaenyra x reader with the prompt “Spread your legs for me, I want to see all of you” pretty please?

Thank you 😍

Absolutely, Fae my darling! I hope I brought your prompt to life and gave it justice! 💖

Honeyed Promises

Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 2.8k+

About: While visiting your great uncle, Lyman Beesbury, at King's Landing, you weren't expecting secondhand stress to affect your lord husband so. Princess Rhaenyra takes notice and is happy to steal moments away with you.

Includes: Unhappy political marriage, mentions of verbal fighting, and smut. Featuring reader's first sexual experience with a woman, oral sex, vaginal fingering, and scissoring

Note: Hello lovely reader ❤️ This is my very first time writing a wlw fic - ahh! It's a complete honor to do it as a request for Fae! Story takes place during Rhaenyra's marriage to Laenor. It is implied she hasn't had children yet. Reader is nondescript. As always, I hope you enjoy this story!

Cross posted on ao3 too!

-

Little had changed since your last visit to King’s Landing when you were a young girl. The Red Keep, in all its sprawling glory, loomed just as large as you remembered. A rarity, you were beginning to understand – for things you thought grand as a child were all but normal to you, now. The Keep was a being of its own, however. Almost a living, breathing, sentient thing. For an outsider its walls seemed to morph into the dark; changing, shifting… holding onto its secrets like the dragons its Kings bonded with.

You weren’t a stranger to politics. But, you were a stranger to the volume of aristocrats which surrounded the Targaryen dynasty. Lyman Beesbury, your great uncle, served as master of coin on King Viserys’ small council, and before him, King Jaehaerys, and was as deep into politics as a man of a smaller House could be.

A great honor.

-

Uncle Beesbury extended an invasion to his nephew, your lord husband, to attend a royal affair at the capital. He gladly accepted. Using it for not only an excuse to get out of Honeyholt for a while, but also to catch up with family, the long journey felt worth it.

Your marriage had yet to bear fruit. Little love bloomed between you and your husband. It was a marriage of duty rather than love, and it showed it more ways than you two cared to admit. If only you could swell with his child to put an end to all the talk of furthering the bloodline.

Each passing day at King’s Landing showed you a different side to your husband. Whatever he and his uncle conversed about in private soured his mood, and his harsh tongue somehow grew harsher towards you. No matter how you tried to soften him with gentle touches, tender words, and initiating marital affections, he was unsatisfied and dour.

“Your lord husband seems quite the ray of sunshine, my lady,” princess Rhaenyra whispered to you one night during dinner. Her voice lilted with sarcasm and her violet eyes dazzled with amusement when she met your gaze. She held it with confidence. With a softness. Knowing.

“Is it that obvious, princess?” You asked with some of her same amusement. “He was so excited to come here. I thought he’d be happier than…,” you waved your hand in a sweeping gesture, adding, “this.”

She smiled softly. “Have you had the chance to explore? There are many wonderful things here to distract you from tetchy husbands,” she said and tipped her goblet towards you, sipping to hide her smirk.

“Perhaps on the morrow I will,” you said, heat and butterflies filling your blood at her tone and implication. Could the princess be… flirting? Your heart quickened a tick. Surely you’re mistaken. Your bedtime stories of suave knights must be getting to you.

“I’ll gladly show you around. I too could use a distraction from the small council.”

She didn’t touch you, but the way her gaze lingered from your neck, up to your lips, and down to the exposed swath of your chest, made gooseflesh pebble your skin as if she had.

-

Nearly a week went by and unfortunately Rhaenyra had yet to keep true to her word. You couldn’t blame her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Each day passed with a sting. The only thing that made it better was the conversations you were able to steal at dinner. The lingering looks, the briefest of touches, Rhaenyra reaching to brush away dust from your gowns… you thought your heart might truly leap from your throat when she wetted the corner of her napkin with her mouth to clean a drop of sauce from your chest. 

And, all the while, she sat by her husband, Laenor Velaryon, and you sat by your lord husband; the men either uncaring or none the wiser to the simmering attraction and tension between you and the princess.

The following day, after a particularly curt argument in hissed voices, you stomped away from your lord husband and left him in one of the numerous corridors. You didn’t stop your angry pace until you were standing in the gardens. Unchaperoned, unguarded, and completely alone. Just how you wanted to be. Heavy gray clouds began to gather over the castle. It didn’t deter you from wanting to make the most out of the remaining blue sky.

Your mood lightened by the minute. Flowers, shrubs, and trees bloomed everywhere. Heady scents filled your nose and it made you yearn for home. King’s Landing was lovely. But, to you, there truly was no place like home. 

Akin to your married name, you quietly followed a trail of honeybees until you found their hive. Deep and hidden in the gardens, you wanted nothing more than to simply stay there for the remainder of the day. Perhaps even the rest of your stay. Honeybees were busy and gentle creatures. As long as you didn’t disturb them or their hive, the working girls were unbothered by your presence.

Finally, with one final whisper of goodbye to the bees, you left the secret spot and began to make your way back to the Keep. Raindrops started to fall and you knew a full on downpour wasn’t far behind.

Then, right there in your path, stood Rhaenyra. Her head was tipped back, her eyes were closed, and her palms were open up towards the sky as if in prayer. You felt like you were interrupting something sacred. Excitement jumped to your throat and before you could stop yourself, you asked, “princess…?” 

She turned to look at you with partially lidded eyes. “What ever are you doing out here right now?” She asked with genuine confusion.

“I needed a breath of air. My husband, he…” 

Before you could finish she held a hand up and offered a small shake of her head. “Needn’t worry to explain, then,” she said, appearing to come back to herself. “If the storm didn’t brew out of nowhere, and if I knew I’d run into you, I’d insist on taking you astride Syrax with me,” she said as she stepped into your space, eyes bright and dark alike. She freely reached for your hands and grabbed both of them. “There’s nothing quite as thrilling as dragon flying.”

This is more thrill than I’ve felt in a long time, you wanted to say. You wondered if the words flashed across your face. Briefly flustered, you smiled. “I, uhm… thank you, truly, princess. But I much prefer the ground.”

“That’s because you’ve never tried being in the sky,” she said, voice soft, so soft, as she leaned into you. “You cannot deny something so quickly if you haven’t tried it…”

Desire, excitement, and wonder filled her pretty eyes. Violet, and silver, and always donned in the loveliest gowns, you understood how the rumors of Targaryens being closer to Gods than men traveled all over the Seven Kingdoms. She was close enough that you felt her breath tickle your face. Smelled the oils of her skin. Something electric pulsed between your almost pressing bodies. “This is the closest I’ve been to a dragon and I am positively thrilled,” you whispered in reply, gently squeezing her hands.

“Sweet girl…,” she cooed as she tilted her head and pressed a delicate kiss to your waiting lips. Whatever pulsed between you before thrummed to life like a wardrum, now. You returned her kiss and that’s all she needed. Both her hands cupped your face as she deepened the affection, savoring the smoothness of your lips. Your tongue.

Just then the sky opened and emptied warm rain on the city. Within moments you were both soaked. Shock led to laughter as you both ran to find cover. Rain water dripped from your nose as you looked at Rhaenyra with renewed delight. “It came out of nowhere!” You said once in the dry safety of the Red Keep’s walls.

“Which part?” Asked the princess, mischievousness alighting all her features. She pulled you along, now, looking over her shoulder and daring you to keep pace with her. 

Challenge accepted.

Arm in arm, you kept pace with Rhaenyra and paid little mind to any onlookers who might be giving you curious glances. She was light and quick on her feet and you were beginning to have a hard time keeping up with her. Still, the light air of playfulness danced around both of you.

An ornate door was guarded by a single man and the princess was quick to say, “you may be relieved from your post for now, ser.” He offered a bow before turning to leave. She opened the door and latched it once you were both inside. Locking it, she turned to face you with a smirk that had you giddy.

“What of your husband, princess? And mine?” Despite it only being the two of you in her private bedchamber, you whispered.

“Laenor and I have… we have found common ground with a pact, you see. He would be happy that I found joy and thrill in chasing you. No one will know of our kiss. That, I promise,” she said, mirroring your tone, as she traced the backs of her fingers along your jaw. Your neck. Whispering them over your collarbone. “As for your husband? Well… I haven’t even seen him kiss your cheek since you’ve been here. Such a shame.”

Your heart was doing flips in your belly. Your lord husband never made you feel like this. Not even on your wedding night. “Th-this–,” you started, uncharacteristically stammering, “–I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve only ever been with my husband.” Heat warmed your cheeks and you hoped she didn’t see it.

“That’s okay,” she purred. “Let me show you, my lady.” Her eyes searched yours. As soon as consent passed between you, she began to help you out of your wet gown. You helped her out of hers, too, and before too long you stood in front of each other in only your chemises; thin material doing little to hide your bodies.

Now on her bed, your curious fingers trembled over her skin as you explored her body. Your lips shuddered atop her flesh as you grazed tentative kisses along her. Your breath caught in your throat when she did all the same, and more, to you. She was so soft, and so warm, and so unlike anything you’d experienced before. Her hands on any and every part of your body had you melting further into her mattress. “Can you.. Can I…,” you said dreamily. “Can I feel your skin on mine?”

Grinning like a cat, Rhaenyra pulled your chemise over your head. She tugged hers off too. Leaning down, she balanced her weight atop you as she crashed her mouth to yours in the neediest hungriest kiss you’d ever experienced. Your breasts squished together, and your bellies, too, and it was the single most exciting thing you’d ever felt. “Can I finish taking all your clothes off?” She asked, half breathless, one hand snaking down to the ribbons of your smallclothes.

“Yes,” you panted. “Please,” you begged.

Having neither the will nor the want to keep you waiting, she obliged. She tugged the ribbons open before sliding the final garment down your legs. Kneeling on the edge of the bed she looked from the center of your body to your face, violet eyes dark with desire. “Spread your legs for me. I want to see all of you.”

A wave of shyness washed over you. Now, you were praying doubly that she didn’t see the blush of your face. Your legs parted with hesitation; butterflies roared from your scalp to your toes. It shouldn’t be embarrassing. It shouldn’t make you timid. But the intimacy, the lewdness, made your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

Rhaenyra watched all the while. Despite the clawing arousal in the pit of her own belly she let you go at your own pace and made no move to hasten or startle you. “Men often don’t appreciate the true beauty of a woman,” she said, low and gentle. “But I am no man and you are beautiful. Be a good girl and open them further. It will be worth it, I promise.”

Her words struck a chord in you. Before you fully realized what you were doing, your legs spilled open to expose the fullness of your eager cunt. It glistened with your arousal. The pink at your very center begged to be touched. To be spread. To welcome whatever Rhaenyra might bless you with. “Will you also take yours off?”

“Soon,” she answered all too quickly, already leaning forward between your parted thighs. “But first I want to kiss this pretty cunny.” And she did. She kissed the tender flesh at the inside of your thighs, your mound, your budded pearl. Her smooth mouth kissed again and again until you were squirming beneath her, and it was then, and only then, that she traced her warm tongue up your slit.

Your breathy gasps turned into a choking mewl at the sensation of her tongue. “Gods…!” You looked down at her and burned even hotter at the sight. “Please don’t stop, princess. Please don’t stop.”

Rhaenyra licked and lapped again and again, making no move to stop even as you shuddered beneath her. You were too warm, too lovely, and too responsive for her to even consider stopping. When she eventually ceased her licking, she instead sucked on your clit until she felt your entire cunt convulse and throb. Your sounds of pleasure were everything she imagined and more. As soon as you relaxed from your first peak she slid two fingers into your empty cunny. Working her tongue and digits in tandem, she gave you another climax. The natural tang of your body gave way to the sweetness of orgasm, and with that taste on her tongue she finally crashed her mouth to yours once again.

You whimpered into the affection, smiling and purring like a spoiled cat. “You’ve got a magical mouth, princess,” you said dreamily.

“How do you like your taste?” She asked, kissing you again, slower, deeper.

“Like I want more,” you said. “Let me taste you. You can guide me along. Show me how to make you feel good like you just did me.”

She giggled into your neck. “I know a way to make both of us feel good at the same time. Do you trust me?”

You nodded, the darkness of your eyes glittering with desire.

Rhaenyra discarded her smallclothes and positioned herself between your legs. “Relax and let me show you how to hold your legs, yes?” She spread yours a little wider while moving one of her own beneath your leg. She spread her other one wider and hooked it over your waist. 

It was an odd position, one you’d never been in before, but one that immediately sent your blood soaring. She rolled her hips once. Once. And that’s all it took for you to feel the slickness of her cunt slide against your own. If you thought her mouth was magical it was only because you hadn’t yet felt her cunny against yours. You gasped sharply. “More,” you croaked, eyes black with lust.

“Move your pelvis with me,” she said thickly, lust darkening her features just as much as yours. 

You happily obeyed. Your pleasure was her pleasure, and hers, yours, as you both rolled and ground your hips and pelvis in a delightfully obscene rhythm. Moans and whimpers were accented by the slick echoes of your centers. Your breasts started to bounce with the effort; both of your hands pressing and digging into any soft flesh it could find. You felt drunk. High. Buzzed on the saccharine scents of her skin and your combined arousal. 

The shared pace grew firmer, quicker, sloppier. Sweat sheened your bodies. You both chased your high on the other’s cunt. You tumbled into orgasm first, white hot fire exploding out from your belly to every nerve of your body. Rhaenyra quickly followed.

You both rode it out slowly. Intensely. Savoring every second that passed between you.

When your limbs finally managed to untangle, she collapsed beside you and smiled. After a few moments of breath catching, she asked, “which was your favorite, my lady?” Her words breathless, her tone playful.

You hummed in thought. “I don’t quite know… I think I’ll need a reminder again, just to be sure.”

“I think we can arrange that,” she said with a laugh.

“Can we do this again?”

“As many times as we can sneak away together, I am happy to explore with you.”

You laid together for as long as you could, until the golden hour summoned you to the day’s final meal where you both said next to your husbands; relaxed and sated.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess

[oniikabuto]

hi i hope this doesnt seem annoying bc i have never requested anything from ppl IDK it makes me anxious 😭 but ur one bed for sp was so cute i adore ur writing !!! do u think u could do it for craigs gang + butters?

one bed! part 2

-- sfw --

part one (main 4 boys)

characters: butters stotch, craig tucker, tweek tweak, tolkien black, jimmy valmer, clyde donovan

a/n: you arent annoying at all dws!! ty for being my first request this is monumental. oh and i wasnt sure if tweek counted as part of craigs gang or not but i adore him so i made one for him. also thank you!!!!!! ;; also jimmy is so underrated i love him so much mwagh

notes: i cant write clyde for shit idk he has no personaluty sorry i love him though; same character dynamic as part 1 (mutual pining, character has a crush on the reader)

— ⛧ b. stotch

complains that it's past his bedtime, but gives in because he wants to spend time with you.

"it's past nine already!"

"well.. yeah. it isn't that late, butters."

"but i always sleep at nine!"

but he'll sit through movies with you anyways because he has a fat crush on you.

except when the end credits start rolling, you look over at butters and he's curled up in a ball, snoring.

you don't have the heart to wake him up, so you quietly shut your laptop and move it off your bed.

he'll probably get in trouble for not coming home at all, but his parents trust you enough. you can probably talk them out of grounding him tomorrow morning.

"butters", you whisper. "leo, you gotta move."

he rolls over, half-asleep and dazed. "huh..?"

"you're staying with me tonight. scoot over."

"o-oh, jeez, okay", he blushes when he feels the warmth of you next to him.

"night, butters."

he's probably praying he doesnt wet the bed he would actually die

murmurs in his sleep and talks about nonsense

drools like a puppy

probably goes mimimimimi like in the cartoons /j

you will wake up with his arm around you. if you move it, he'll find his way back again in his sleep

looks like a baby when he sleeps its so funny you cant help but take photos



— ⛧ c. tucker

you turn around to tell him it's getting late and ask if he needs a ride home

and he's dead asleep. on the floor. textbook over his lap. snoring very softly.

like no wonder it's been so quiet... as you were doing your homework, craig was asleep on your floor.

you felt so bad having to wake him up to move him to your bed

"craig, i'm so sorry. i got distracted, i didn't mean to-"

"it's fine. just let me sleep in the corner. i like your plushies", he yawns.

so he sleeps in the corner against the wall, and you sleep on the outside to make sure he doesn't roll right off the bed.

if you weren't there, he definitely would have bc when you wake up, he's smushed into you.

how can he breathe???

he also violently gnashes his teeth and it's very startling (my brother did that as a kid and i would almost pee myself in fear)

and he'll randomly put his hand somewhere like your face?????? the way he does it is so funny because it always seems like he's wide awake but you look over and he's mouth breathing and sound asleep

yeah he's a mouth breather

it's okay he's a cutie



— ⛧ t. tweak

passes the fuck out from coffee. like CRASHES

"yeah and then i was telling kyle about how- tweek, you okay?"

"tired....... can i go.....mmfjkg"

like at a certain point past 1am he just turns into a dead slug

poor thing

you just send him up to your bedroom and get him a change of clothes so that he doesn't have to sleep in a button-up

except by the time you get up to your room, he's dead asleep.

you don't bother trying to wake him up, since you've never seen him sleep so peacefully.

he's curled up on his side, face buried in your plushies.

you scoot in next to him, so close that you can smell the milky coffee lingering in his hair.

it's kinda nice

in the middle of the night you wake up to a really strange noise.

it's tweek

he's doing this weird clicky thing with his tongue in his mouth in his sleep

like. okay?????? you go back to sleep

and then he flings his whole arm over and WHACKS you hard in the face

"TWEEK??"

"nhg..,"

he just randomly jerks in his sleep, wakes up for a second and falls back asleep

it's very startling

sometimes you have to hold him down with your arms

he loves it



— ⛧ t. black

actually a super chill guy to sleep with

he's enjoyable to have over

you'll both be studying for midterm exams next week, and he yawns

"it's like. ten. do you just wanna spend the night here?"

"is that, uh- is that okay with you?"

"yeah, my room's upstairs. i'll meet you up there in a sec"

he'll text his mom that he's spending the night because he's actually responsible

gets a little embarassed to sleep in your bed

but a win is a win

gets a LOT embarassed when you get in bed with him

falls asleep pretty fast actually

he's a relatively normal sleeper

spends like 30 minutes in the bathroom washing his face and stuff before he goes to bed

"do you have cleanser?"

sleeps like a rock

except for when he randomly talks

like TALKS. clear as day

scares you shitless

"y/n."

'tolkien??? are you up still??"

"why would you do that."

"do what??"

"grape juice"

and then he'd roll over and go back to sleep

does not remember any of his nighttime conversations in the morning

"i said that? are you sure?"



— ⛧ j. valmer

fell asleep on your couch in the middle of a horror movie

to your dismay

because when you turned away from the screen and grab at him in fear, he's SNORING. his ass is SNORING as the clown violently murders the main character.

"jimmy!"

"what?"

you just make a jokingly-angry face at him.

"it's late. can't i ju-just stay h-h-here?"

"well- i mean, sure, but you can't just sleep on the couch, dude. come up to my room, i'll show you."

"re-really?"

grins ear to ear

hes so down bad for you

almost implodes when you lean his crutches against the door and make sure they won't fall

DOES implode when you get in next to him

he smells like dish soap but in a good way

like citrus

you tell him so, and to that he makes a stupid "orange-you happy i'm here" joke

"jimmy, go to sleep."

"f-fine."

makes sure he's got the elastics for his braces in

in the middle of the night he'll whisper your name

"y/n r u still up"

"yeah what"

"i just thought of something really funny"

it gets old so fast but it's okay he's cute



— ⛧ c. donovan

crashes at 8pm after insisting he can pull an all-nighter

refuses to get up unless you drag him by his ankles

and even then he'll lay on the floor like a dead fish

so you just let him stay

meticulously brushes his hair sideways with wet fingers to make sure he doesn't wake up with a bedhead in front of you

he does anyway.

you walk up behind him as he moves his hair "whatcha doin?"

he jumps THREE FEET and whirls around

"nothing!" as if he's hiding a government secret or sum

once you guys r in bed he stops acting all tough and cool and just freaks out

his back will be turned but he's beet red

breathes really loudly when he falls asleep

and sleeps in ATROCIOUS positions

you'll wake up with his foot on your chest and the blanket flipped upside down

someone needs to belt this boy down to the bed or something

he's really a cute sleeper though

sometimes you wake up and see him face-down in a pillow and move him over to make sure he doesn't like. suffocate

and then he wakes up to you on top of him with no context

"....y/n?"



[moethewriter]

Your fics are so so so good. I love the introspection so much. Could you do #30 on the angst prompt with finnick, if you want? thank you!

Hey Anon! Thanks for the compliment! Of Course I can. This one actually took me a hot second to think of an idea for! But I hope you enjoy it! -- TITLE: The Things We Need Most WORD COUNT: 1.1K WARNING: Fighting, not sure if anything else is worth noting under here but if there is let me know and I'll change it! TAGS: Introspection cause its me, fighting and arguing, two idiots being idiots. READER IS FEM CODED!!! Only because it made the most sense with the plot that came to mind! SUMMARY: Sometimes what you needed most was right in front of you ... A/N: Hello again all! The reader in this is fem coded just for the sake of the plot, it made more sense! Thanks for enjoying my work so far everyone! Hope you enjoy this one too, and as always I take constructive criticism so please feel free to leave that!

“You can’t tell anyone.” You said, furiously crossing your arms as though you were a petulant child arguing over bedtime. You thought if anyone could understand, he would, but apparently you had thought wrong.

“The hell I can’t!” He laughed, a small harsh little laugh that didn’t suit him at all. He was looking at you, his eyes boring into your soul, holding nothing but hurt, fear and frustration in them.

“You think I’m going to sit here and let Mags or Annie go back into that arena? Absolutely not, I can’t let that happen.” You snapped, a red tinge growing over your face as anger filled your bones. “You can’t seriously think that either of them are even prepared to step back into there. You and I both know that they’re not! So get off your high horse and keep this secret like I asked you too!”

When you had been reaped, Mags had been your mentor. Finnick had tried to disagree but with the friendship you two had, you knew it wouldn’t be wise. If he lost you, like you had almost lost him, he would be distraught. You were distraught when he had left for his games, nothing seemed to be okay after that. 

But Mags had stepped up, and she got you every sponsor she could. She took care of you and helped you make it out of there alive, back to Finnick, to her and your family. 

You hadn’t met Annie officially until you had turned eighteen, and she, seventeen. Finnick had introduced you both and you had clicked instantly. She became like the sister you never had and then it became the three of you. Annie hadn’t returned the same after she had been reaped and won her games. But Finnick and you had always been there for her, and you would be there for her now.

“If I march in there and tell them what you’re doing, you think they’re going to allow you to put your life on the line for them! They would never allow you to sacrifice yourself for them, you know!” He shot back, running a hand through his hair, roughly. 

“It’s not their choice, Finn! It’s mine. I am actively making this choice alone. You can’t sit here and seriously say you wouldn’t do the same!” An exasperated laugh passed through your lips, as you looked away from him.

Obviously no one wanted to be in this situation, everyone had been promised to be left alone after they had won. Of course Snow could never allow that for any Victors, with how he operated with them after the games. He couldn’t let his little puppets not be punished, he was incapable of sympathy.

“I would take their places in a heartbeat, you know! I would never have any of you going back there if I could!” Finnick said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Neither of you could stand to look at one another, both far too worked up than the situation called for, in your opinion. For the first time in a very long time you didn’t understand what was going through his head. Why was he shooting back at every opportunity, did he think that there was a chance you wouldn’t survive, did he not have that faith in you anymore?

“If you think I’m incapable of doing this, then you need to tell me. Don’t sit there and bullshit your way around things and not give me an answer to why you don’t want me back there. Because I know it’s not just because you're worried.” You said, a cross look passing over your face. You were done yelling, and fighting. You just needed to know what was going on. “If you can’t tell me then you need to let it go, and not tell anyone what I’ve told you here tonight. You need to respect me enough to keep that secret like I’ve asked of you.” 

He looked at you, biting his lip gently. He hardly did that anymore.

“Y/N.” He sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself. “It’s not that I think you couldn’t do it, or wouldn’t be strong enough. You’re the bravest person I know, and one of the strongest. I guess in a way this is selfish … the reason I don’t want you back there. I can’t lose you. We’ve almost lost each other at least once … I can’t feel that again.” He whispered, and you could see the tears welling in his eyes.

“But I can’t be okay with losing Annie or Mags, Finnick. I’m barely okay with the thought of losing you.” You reached out to cup his face, gently.

He looked so much younger like this, more like the boy you had met all those years ago.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

“I …. Finnick.” Your voice was tinged with sadness, and you had no idea what to say at this moment.

Finnick had never left your side from the moment you two had met. He had been there through every single major moment of your life. The day you had your first heartbreak, when you had broken a bone, he had held your hand through the reaping ceremony. He was the piece you had been missing. You couldn’t remember life before him, though you were sure you wouldn’t want to. He was everything to you.

And somewhere between then and now … perhaps you had both fallen in love with one another.  

Of course you had loved Finnick from the moment you had been ten years old, when he had challenged you to a swimming contest and you won. You hadn’t embarrassed him, or that’s what he had always said, but you ended up taking a liking to each other. .

From that moment on you two had become inseparable, there was never one of you without the other. He had changed your life for the better, and you had always hoped you made an impact on his too. 

“I love you too.” You admitted after moments of silence. “I think I always have but there was never a right time to say it.”

“No time like the present.” Finnick chuckled, small and gentle. His hands came up to cup yours, warmth radiating from him.

“I don’t think days before the reaping of the Quarter Quell is the best, but I’ll take it.” You smiled. “Kiss me?”

All he had needed was permission. He leaned down, gently slotting his lips with yours as you brushed your thumb against his cheeks.

Minutes felt like seconds and before you knew it he had pulled away from you, eyes no longer shining with tears but pure … love and joy.

“If you go back in there, both of us are coming out. Got it, L/N.” Finnick said, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

“Got it, Odair.” You laughed against his chest. 

You didn’t know what the two of you did next, you barely had a clue of what would happen tomorrow … but this was the start of something beautiful. You could feel it.

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M (SMUT)

Contains: Satoru x submissive virgin, Satoru x fem oc, married couple, wife receiving.

Warnings: smut, groping, fingering, dirty talk, oral, raw sex, consummation, blood, first time, crying, screaming, fluff, cute couple shit, love confessions, all the usual fixings.

For the next few days Hannah was patient. She did not jump at the first opportunity, choosing to set her plan in motion when Makoto was away visiting family. The housekeeper would be gone a week, leaving her and Satoru alone in the house. Just the two of them. No one else.

The clock on her dresser struck six o’clock. They had just eaten dinner - leftovers from last night - and allotted themselves some free time before bed. Hannah made all the necessary preparations; bathed, brushed her teeth, shaved her legs. She wanted this evening to be perfect. Perfect for him.

Now cleaned and freshened up, she walked into her closet where her wedding attire hung and lifted the first notch off her ikō, mindful not to let the rest of the rack topple over as there was little else keeping it together. She tilted the notch to one side. The uchikake slid out with ease and tumbled to the floor. The October sun had already set. Only a small paper lantern burned in the closet, capturing the silver threads and lilac wisteria in its light. The little wife gathered the precious garment in her arms and prayed for guidance.

She would wait another hour, but no more.

The hour had passed. Hannah stood outside his bedroom in the hallway. She was accustomed to them sleeping in her room, but that was about to change.

Mustering the courage, her knuckles rapped twice on his door.

“Satoru?” she squeaked.

Nothing at first.

Then the sound of shuffling footsteps.

The door slid open.

Satoru popped out, wearing matching grey sweatpants and tee, readers poised on the bridge of his nose. He must’ve been in the middle of reading something. His mouth stretched into a yawn.

“Hey you, I was just about to head over. Ready for bed?”

Hannah did not answer and looked down at the floor, blushing like mad. “N-not exactly.”

The confusion was apparent on his face. He didn’t understand. It was late. Why wasn’t she ready for bedtime? But it didn’t take long for him to realize what she was wearing. Or rather, what she wasn’t wearing. His Six Eyes saw right through the wedding kimono like crystal clear water.

Oh.

Oh.

Feeling there was no time to waste, Hannah started to unloop the kimono, freeing the double knots she so expertly tied and untied a million times from poor nerves. Her hands shook feverishly. But just as the second tie came undone, she felt callused fingertips covet her own, halting their ministrations. She looked up to see pools of turquoise blue boring into her.

“We don’t have to do this, Hannah?” One hand moved to cradle the small of her back, holding her close. “There’s no rush.”

Hannah felt the urge to cry, but tried suppressing it. “Oh, I think we’ve danced around the subject long enough.” She smiled despite the emotion threatening to spill over. “Because you see, my darling, I’ve been a fool. A bloody, stupid fool.”

“A fool?” He stepped in to gingerly cup her face. “What makes you say that?”

The tears came freely. Hannah stared directly into his eyes; hazel colliding with blue, and did not mince words, voice carrying a shred of vulnerability.

“I love you, Gojō Satoru,” she said. “I was a fool not to see it sooner, but I’m willing to make it up to you. If you’ll have me.”

The Six Eyes wilder pressed a thumb to her lips, holding her into silence. Like the striking of a match, the smoldering of a flame, something awakened in his eyes she could not pinpoint, a light that could not be extinguished. Saying nothing, he wiped away her tears and lowered his hands to the drawstring of her kimono, whispering in an almost childlike voice. “May I?”

Obedient, Hannah let her hands fall to her sides as he tugged the knot, unraveling the uchikake he had gifted her from its silken chrysalis.

The wedding kimono dropped to the floor.

Hannah stood before him, naked as the day she was born. Like a sculptor assessing his fine handiwork, Satoru gave himself a moment of pause, eyes sloping over her breasts, nipples puckering from the sudden chill, nice and pink, the ones he’d been lusting after since he first saw her singing in the bath. His hands lifted to cup the supple mounds for himself, but not before he glanced to his wife for silent permission. Hannah gave a singular nod and gasped as one warm palm slipped underneath, gently bouncing the flesh up and down repeatedly, circling the pink bud with a calloused thumb. She was the perfect size, not too big, not too small. Exactly how he liked it, and his training regimen had worked wonders; His wife wasn’t a scrawny twig anymore. There was meat on them bones.

A beating pulse began throbbing between his legs the more he weighed her, stared at her. “Holy shit, Hannah, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to…,” he lost his train of thought, coveting her other breast. “So beautiful.”

His fingers were positively electric, sending prickles down her spine, massaging both breasts in a manner she hadn’t considered. Whenever she happened to touch herself running a rag in the wash or dressing into a bra such touches elicited no effect, but the fact these were his hands made all the difference. She liked it. It felt good.

It felt right.

Finishing his assessment, Satoru relinquished his hold. Callused hands sought hers and gently pulled her towards his bed, turquoise blue eyes filled with insatiable desire. He sat her down along the edge and backed away.

He lifted his shirt.

Loosened the drawstring of his sweatpants.

Hooked the elastic of his boxers.

And as he removed the last article of clothing, Hannah turned to look away, retaining those last vestiges of innocence, but Satoru denied her.

“Hannah.” He said it softly like a reprimand. “Look at me.”

She drew a shaky breath and slowly inclined her head, forcing herself to see.

Her lips parted.

Hannah had studied the male anatomy in biology books, seen Michelangelo's David up close during a pilgrimage to Florence, but Satoru standing before her in all his glory stole her breath away. He was truly a sight. A living monument of corded muscle and chiseled abs and years of discipline combined with blood, sweat, and tears. Everything about him was a masterpiece. From the definition of his arms to the carved ridge of his v, prompting her gaze to wander to their joined axis.

Her eyes widened.

He’s big, she noted. Bigger than the average male, already red and very erect, muscles relaxing so blood could pour into the corpora and harden the spongy tissue inside. Hannah knew at this stage his heart rate had elevated significantly nor could he feel the sticky precum oozing out his penis. His balls had swelled to twice their normal size, brewing millions of tiny sperm preparing to travel through the ejaculatory duct, whereby they would mix with seminal fluids from the prostate and exit out his urethra in search of an egg during climax. (That was the clinical side of it, anyway). Where things got tricky depended on what followed afterwards because —

“We can’t use condoms,” she blurted, clasping her mouth, swallowing as she watched a dribble of precum drip to the floor.

If Satoru’s cock wasn’t throbbing so badly like a stallion cooped in a barn full of mares, he would've voiced his opposition. It’s not that they “can’t” use condoms. No, no, no. It’s that they “wouldn’t.”

Vaguely curious on what to expect, Satoru had skimmed the Church’s stance on marriage and sex, Pope John Paul II’s Theology of the Body, and why most forms of contraception were frowned upon, excluding NFP. While he saw the logic, he vehemently opposed the conclusions. Contraception and birth control had lifted millions out of poverty, gave women the freedom to work and make their own choices. To think otherwise was outdated as it was regressive. Perhaps a small, minute part of him believed Hannah would rebel against her religious views, but alas. They were going oh naturale whether he liked it or not, and if she fell pregnant, so be it. He was in no position to argue.

Satoru steadied himself.

“I’m gonna open you up first, alright?”

Hannah gave a nervous nod. “O-Okay.”

“If you want me to stop for any reason, let me know.”

She nodded again.

Satoru cradled her chin, eyes serious. “I mean it, Hannah,” he said, smoothing her cheeks with his thumbs. “I can get a little carried away sometimes. If there’s anything I do wrong, tell me.”

She held his steady gaze and folded her hands over his. “I trust you.”

Satoru pressed his forehead to hers and splayed his hand over her stomach. She shivered as he gently pushed her down on the bed, taking ownership of her hips, and settling himself between her thighs.

At once, his touch went from languid to worshipful, breath hovering over her chest like warm vapor, encouraging the shy nipple to respond accordingly and relax. With lustful ardor, his mouth overtook it, sucking and pulling on the pink bud, while using his left hand to fondle the other breast. She could feel his hardness rub against her stomach, hearing him moan in pleasure. Hannah was beyond starstruck. Never had she experienced anything like this before. The swirling of his tongue combined with his thumb tracing around her nipple had her pressing her head to the mattress.

In time, his hand gravitated towards the warm cove of her thighs, slowly prying the legs open more to untangle the dark web of curls, gently combing the hair. Hannah felt the need to hide her face, embarrassed that he wanted to touch her there; the one area she hadn’t shaved. A dark chuckle roiled from him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teased, wringing the curls. “You know how much I like playing with your hair,” his hand started to dip further inwards, “Unless…there’s something else you think I should play with.” A violent shudder became her as his fingers teetered closer and closer to the tender swell underneath. “Let’s have a feel, shall we?”

Before she could think, two of Satoru’s fingers slipped inside, curling ever so slightly to imitate what he was about to do with a different body part. Hannah shut her eyes, struggling to find breath as Satoru toyed and teased and smarted. He added a third finger and soon Hannah could feel his entire hand caressing her arousal, thumb and pinkie stroking the folds in slow, deliberate circles, while his three remaining fingers plunged in and out of her continually, pleasuring her as best he could till the flesh grew achingly sensitive. Hannah let out a pitiful whimper, rocking her hips to match his “come hither” rhythm in the hopes it would help alleviate the budding tension collecting at her navel.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Small trembles ran through her as he went deeper, her little moaning pants mingling with the slick sounds of him stroking for her most sensitive spot.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he purred, feeling her clamp tighter and tighter around his fingers. He dipped his head in the crook of her neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin just below her ear. “Don’t fight it now…Ah, you’re going to cum any second…Yes, I can feel you cumming…my Hannah…my Hannah…my Hannah...”

An all consuming heat suddenly surged through Hannah’s body; her head, her breasts, her stomach, pooling down between her hips until she felt her entrance hold and release around his fingers like a heartbeat. A rush of moisture came to the forefront, coating the invasive digits in fresh wetness. After digging a little more, Satoru withdrew the soiled fingers and eagerly brought them to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled, cock panging for her in earnest. He welcomed the flood of endorphins to invade his brain and he licked each finger dry. Her very first orgasm was his for the taking, and it smelled and tasted better than anything he could’ve imagined. He wanted, no, needed more.

A feral look possessed him. Satoru knelt at the foot of the bed and propped her legs over his shoulders, leaving them to dangle like streamers, and before Hannah realized what was going on, his craven tongue was gliding along the wet folds of her pussy, licking the rims clean and stroking his way to the juicy center as though savoring a melted treat. Overwhelmed, Hannah’s soft whimpers turned to moans. “Satoru,” she called out and tried clamping her legs together when she started orgasming a second time. His wicked tongue plunged deeper. “Satoru!!” she cried louder, but Satoru had spread her hips wide apart, listening to his name being repeated over and over again as she came inside his mouth. So many wonderful, delicious sounds, envisioning her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and heavy-lidded eyes lashes. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to wring as many orgasms out of her like this as humanly possible.

Below, his cock was screaming for release. Satoru groped the hardened juncture below in an effort to appease it, stroking once, twice, feeling very tempted to throw in the towel and go all in. It ached like a motherfucker, but he had to pull away.

Although, he underestimated Hannah’s pleasure in this. Not wanting it to end, her hands clamored for his mouth to return, but Satoru quickly seized them. “No, sweetheart, no.” He kissed her knuckles. “If I keep doing that, I won’t last much longer.”

Her next words were dangerous.

“Then don’t,” she whimpered, practically begging. “I don’t want you to last.”

He tucked a trestle of auburn behind her ear. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” came her delirious response. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

Regaining his balance, Satoru lifted her hips and properly angled himself.

Thanks to their warm-up, he slid inside her without much resistance, cock warm and heavy, stretching the virgin skin to accommodate its larger girth, yet the sensation was so intense and unyielding Hannah clenched without giving it a second thought. No, this was nothing like his fingers, nor his tongue. She felt her privates were on fire, as though his hardness was made of fiberglass, penetrating deeper and deeper until her walls thinned out and split open. Something tore. She smelled blood.

“Satoru,” she cried, gritting her teeth as tears watered her eyes. “It’s…Oh, God.”

“Breathe, Hannah,” he panted the deeper he went. “I broke your hymen. You’re alright, just breathe for me, sweetheart.”

“It hurts.”

“I know, baby, but breathing helps. Breathe, Hannah.” He watched her choke on an inhale and release a long, staggered breath. “Good girl, just like that.” She didn’t tell him to stop, so he pushed in a little more, her wet pussy squeezing around him. Fuck, she was tight. By far the tightest he’d ever had and the feeling was indescribable, her walls hugging him in all the right places, hitting the bulbous gland at the tip of his penis at just the right — Oh yeah. That’s the spot. This was Satoru’s first time with a virgin and in a daze he almost forgot himself, swearing never to use condoms again. Nuh-uh, nope, not when she felt like this. Not when she made him feel bigger, fuller even.

Meanwhile, Hannah clutched onto him for dear life, nails digging into his shoulder blades like mountain hooks. “Move,” she begged the deeper he went. “Satoru, please move.”

“Give me a minute, baby,” he huffed, voice velvet soft. “I’m almost there,” and with one final nudge his penis went as far as it would go, kissing the entrance of her womb.

Hannah grabbed a fistful of sheets, her throat so clenched she could barely form the words, “Satoru…please.”

Knowing she was having a rough go, Satoru eased his hips and did a little shimmy, making the intrusion more bearable. Hannah’s breathing steadied. He reached up and cupped her teary-eyed face, wanting one final look at her before they took the plunge. Although, in many ways they already had. His knees quivered from restraint.

“I’ll start slow,” he hushed, stroking her burning cheeks lovingly.

Hannah managed another nod and hooked her arms around his neck.

“You ready?”

“Hmhm,” she grimaced.

And so it began.

As promised, he set a maddeningly slow pace for her at first, gently tilting to a new spot each time he entered, allowing his cock to explore every inch of her sex with undiluted pleasure. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he praised between thrusts. “Aah, so good.” Tears flowed freely down Hannah’s cheeks with every torturous roll of his hips, every sharp gasp, every languid moan and sweet encouragement pouring out his mouth; fiberglass, heat, fire. She felt she would melt. It was too much.

Somewhere amidst their rigor, she managed to recapture his lips in a needy kiss, holding down her muffled cries and wrapped her legs around his torso, smooshing their bellies together. It helped. The pain eased a little the more he gyrated. She forgot the stench of blood. Panting for breath, Hannah broke from the kiss and pressed her head to the mattress as his large calloused hands resumed fondling her now very sore and tender breasts, giving her focus to the sound of their bodies slapping hard against each other, growing louder and faster the more they went at it.

She felt the muscles hook around her navel once more. The peaks of her nipples tightened and her core began pounding harder than ever before. A thousand tiny dots obscured her vision, along with a faint ringing developing in her ears. Her mouth went slack. Sensing she was close, Satoru grunted and took the opportunity to lower his hand, using his thumb and index to stroke the wings of her clit, causing the edges of her vision to turn stark-white. Then he rammed upwards as far as he could and somewhere in the back of her mind Hannah knew she was belting his name, screaming it loud for all to hear, but she didn’t care and neither did he. Their bodies were functioning on autopilot, grinding aggressively back and forth in fine, strobic movements. Lost to both pain and pleasure.

Their lovemaking reached its acme when a resounding groan, deep and guttural, coursed through Satoru’s throat like a low keening. Hannah felt his groin expand within her, the surmounting pressure bringing him past the point of no return, fully opening him up. There was no stopping it now. Faster and faster he bucked, spinal reflexes working full throttle, and within seconds Hannah felt something warm and sticky gush between her thighs. She heard a noticeable squelch as six months worth of abstinence and desperate longing came channeling out in heavy intervals; one, two, three, four…her insides were like liquid. Meanwhile, Satoru closed his eyes and snapped back his head, moaning loudly with every newfound release. Hannah’s own eyes lulled as yet a new orgasm engulfed her senses, his warm seed spilling into her like rainwater to the parched ground. Their fingers found each other, weaving into place. So this was what it was like when a man came inside you, she thought. It was the most incredible she felt in ages, if not, ever. Her toes and fingers tingled. Was she floating?

It was over as soon as it began. Satoru needed a good minute to expel himself, humping a few extra times to make sure he had finished, wanting her to have every last drop. He raised his head to catch his breath, ignoring how sensitive his genitals felt inside her.

Caught in a state of bliss, turquoise blue and moss brown stared into each other for a blissful moment, both disoriented. Satoru watched new tears stream down his wife’s cheeks as she began to sob, overcome with joy and euphoria. They’d done it. They’d really done it. The amber glow of the lights made her skin look radiant. She was his sun, his obsession, his hana. They’re would be no one else.

He wiped away her happy tears and sought her hand, wedding rings glistening from an oath fulfilled, skin-warmed and gold.

“Daisuki, Satoru,” he heard her sigh contentedly in the lantern glow.

Having yet to pull out, he hunched himself over so their foreheads could touch. “Not as much as I love you,” he replied in English and sealed her lips in a final kiss, cradling her in his arms as he positioned their bodies to lay beside each other on the bed, still conjoined.

If only they could remain like that forever. Never to be parted.

His wife.

Her husband.

One flesh.

At long last.

Chapter Contents

[ghosthoard]

PART 6

part 01 02 03 04 05

Waking up to the sound of Hyrule screaming was in Legend’s top ten worst ways to wake up. 

He was on his feet with his sword out before he even realized he was awake. Adrenaline shot through his body, his eyes darting around, ready to take down whatever it was that dared to make Hyrule sound like that. 

Not Hyrule. Not. Hyrule. Over my dead body!

But, there weren’t hordes of monsters tearing his brother apart, they hadn’t come for their sacrifice, a nightmare that was added to Legend’s amazing sleep rotation of bedtime horrors ever since Hyrule told them the truth about why the monsters were after him. 

No monsters, but there was blue light washing out the camp, magic pulsing through the ground and up the trees and thrumming through their bodies. At its epicenter was Hyrule, screaming incoherently as he was bent over Wild— No... Wild’s body. 

The magic was making it hard to get enough air into his lungs, Legend’s inhale stuck in his throat, it was that overwhelming. 

The first time Legend felt Hyrule’s magic, he knew it was powerful no matter how the kid tried to hide it. Magic as high quality as that was like molten lava, liquid gold, heavy and thick. It was like tasting a well seasoned stew full of potatoes and meat after having gruel all your life. That sort of magic had layers of spark and sensations you’ve never even thought of before let alone can comprehend. So only using “a little smidge” Hyrule had said while keeping his finger and thumb that exact smidge away from touching, wasn’t going to do anything to convince anybody. 

That “little smidge” was enough for his magic sword to shoot out enough fire to take down five bokoblins at once. 

The more time that passes, the more he’s noticed beyond the power. Like how gentle it can be, how easily excitable it is, and playful. Young and curious. But this was exactly why it was so dangerous. 

It was reacting oddly with the magic of Wild’s era. Largely something that comes directly from nature— from wolf cubs play fighting in their warm cave, the way fruit glistens with dew in the early morning, and the flow and shimmer of water— was curiously reaching out to Hyrule’s fairy chime and glow, giggles in thick, neverending fog, crossing a line into a whole new world or over a dangerous boundary that should have been respected— finding a friend so alike them but so much more unnerving. 

Nayru, it was like seeing Hyrule and Wild hit it off a bit too well all over again.

The trees were growing upwards right in front of their eyes, the air sparking with fae magic, the undergrowth bustling over their ankles, all glowing and pulsing blue.

…This was too much magic all at once.

The fear of the realization had Legend snapping out of his awe and running to Hyrule, forcing him, kicking and screaming, away from the body, the magic cut off and its force abated for breathing to get easier, for the trees and plants to shrink back to their peaceful, and original size. 

As he struggled, Hyrule’s voice was layered with dizzying intensity and his body was almost too hot to the touch, but he was aware enough to recognize Legend and refrain from using charmspeak. 

But not aware enough to realize the amount of magic he was spending, how dangerous it could’ve gotten. Not aware enough to realize that it was all going to waste. 

“HE’S DEAD!” Legend had yelled over Hyrule’s voice, the words booming out over their camp just as powerful as Hyrule’s magic had been and finally getting through to his brother who froze in his arms. 

When Hyrule suddenly lost all strength, Legend had to carefully guide him down to the ground, holding him as he shook.

The tears soaked into his tunic. Legend never wanted to hear Hyrule cry like that again.

Calming Hyrule down took until just before Four and Wind returned from washing. 

Legend immediately zeroed in on Wind’s swollen, red eyes before his gaze flickered down to how Four was holding his hand, and his need to do something about it was satiated by Warriors pulling both of them in for a hug. 

He couldn’t get used to someone else stepping in when he couldn’t, but… well, he’d enjoy it while he had it. 

Warriors looked over at them, looking like a cucco with two chicks under his blue wings. “Is he okay? That was an impressive show of magic. Probably wore him down.”

Legend looked down at where Hyrule was shivering in his arms. The mass of fluffy, brown hair the only thing he could see properly when the kid had his face hidden against Legend’s shirt. 

“I have him,” he reassured. Slowly pulling away from the hug but leaving his hands on Hyrule’s shoulders, he revealed a glistening face of tears and a tired, defeated glaze of the eyes. Hygiene might not solve anything, but it was something to do. “Come on, our turn.”

Hyrule was limp and wobbly, dizzy from the amount of magic he’d used in such a short time and the crying he’d done, but he’d be fine after having some sugar. Legend always had a bag of honey candy on him for this exact situation. Wild knows he never ate any of it. He’d have such a shit-eating, knowing grin every time he handed Legend his refill that Legend had no choice but to slap him on the arm before snatching the bag out of his hand, forced to hear the kid’s cackling as he stomped away. 

His mouth twisted as he caught himself in those memories. They had reached the water and he helped Hyrule down beside the bank. 

He would run out of honey candies eventually, and he’ll have to start buying something else to keep in case Hyrule needed it.

“Wash up,” Legend said, rolling up his sleeves and taking off his hat. 

Hyrule took a deep breath, still pretty out of it, but he bent over and started to wash his face with shaky hands. 

Silently, they washed their face and hair, and brushed their teeth. A more thorough clean would have to wait but Legend took the chance to use a rag to wipe off some of the sweat and grime on his upper body. As they went through the task, Hyrule’s body stopped shaking and more strength and coordination came back to him, fully oriented and awake. 

After pulling his shirt back on and toweling his hair dry, Legend pulled out one of the honey candies.

“Here.”

Hyrule’s face lit up at the sight of the candy, then fell just as abruptly. He held out a hand for Legend to place it on, and didn’t eat it right away, but stared at it there in his palm. 

“Eat it before a bug lands on it or a bird snatches it away,” Legend said, hating that expression. “It’s not like that’s the last piece of candy ever. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

His words somehow drew Hyrule’s eyes down to where Wild’s slate was hanging from his belt. Anger took hold of him, and he threw Legend the dirtiest look he’d ever gotten.

That wasn’t what he had been implying. But he couldn’t say Hyrule was entirely wrong since, once he was reminded of its existence, he felt a small relief that maybe there were hundreds of honey candy waiting for them in the slate. Something in his chest that Legend would deny up and down from Hyrule to Lorule was soft and longing, aching with grief, was soothed at the thought that maybe they could still have this part of Wild for a little while longer.

Popping the candy in his mouth, Hyrule moved to stand up. Habitually, Legend went to help him, but Hyrule leaned out of his reach. 

“I’ll walk on my own.”

Legend rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying anything like a mature hylian. Fine, if Hyrule wanted to wobble like a newborn, freckly fawn back to camp then far be it for him to interfere.

Hyrule wobbled ahead of him by only two paces because, “you never leave your wash buddy behind,” Warriors had told them sternly awhile back. Always within earshot, within sight, within grabbing distance. 

Hyrule was terrifying when he was angry. Legend secretly thought the Traveler and the sleepyhead were the scariest of them all. Sky is a manipulative bastard, Legend won’t be fooled, and you never want to be on the other end of Hyrule’s piercing glare. This was the first time in a while that Legend has been the object of Hyrule’s wrath, having managed to avoid scraps for the past couple of weeks. He’d seen the way the air around Hyrule had been vibrating with his magic and pitied any yiga who dared to cross the fae’s path. He’d seen the way that magic sparked and hissed when he’d first brought up his idea. 

Even despite that terrifying anger, the kid stuck by him, the pushover. 

They walked into camp separately. Hyrule was quick to go further than those two paces and made a point of busying himself by rolling up both of their bedrolls and doing anything but looking at Legend. 

Legend could take a hint. He looked around the camp to find something to do (firmly avoiding looking at where a wolf was laying) and latched onto Sky who hadn’t moved from his spot under a tree. 

“Hey, birdbrain,” he marched over before standing over the man with his hands on his hips, “how did you sleep? And don’t bullshit me.”

A small smile twitched onto Sky’s face. Legend thought the endeared slant to his eyes was entirely too much this early in the morning. “Not well.”

Legend huffed in dissatisfaction. “Go to the stream with Warriors.” 

Sky hummed his agreement and heaved himself up before walking over to separate the Captain from his hugging companions.

That taken care of, Legend went over to where the cooking pot was waiting with the leftover rice from yesterday. He lifted the top off to peer down at the cold, miserable sludge. The slate hung at his belt and rested on his thigh as he crouched there. 

He needed to be quick or else Wild would notice and smack him with a utensil that shouldn’t smart as much as it did, turning his displeased eyebrows onto him, demanding he take his grubby hands off, that it was his job to cook. Legend would throw a few jibes back and he’d be chased off by the cook waving the spoon Sky had carved for him around threateningly.

The anticipation of all of it, of what had become Legend’s ordinary, thrummed through his body. Any minute now… he’d be caught and the moments that followed like a beloved script would fall into place.

Seconds passed with him still crouching next to the pot, staring at the rice they had ruined by adding too much water the night before, and they would continue to pass no matter how long he waited. Normal had changed without his permission once more.

Crouching there, watching the rice slide down the side of the pot, the slate resting on his thigh felt like a hot brand. 

The slate was important to Wild. Legend knew this when he saw the kid lose it in battle, how his eyes searched for where it fell despite how the distraction was earning him close swipes from swords and sickles. He knew this when he picked it up right after the Yiga vanished with his brother. He knew when he planned to keep it safe until he could return it.

If he couldn’t return it (to see Wild relax in relief and smile at him in gratitude, to lecture Wild about relying too much on the slate, to ruffle his too long hair until it was tangled and mussed) then he was going to put it to good use no matter how much Hyrule glared at him. 

He couldn’t wait to get rid of it. He wasn’t supposed to have had it for this long. 

Legend blinked, exhaled, and started to move again. He grabbed the ladle. 

…He could make an edible gruel. 

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@homewardwander @gothroughthelookingglass

(it's only been less than a day since they found Wild btw)

[myfavoritesstuff]

Crimson Hearts Part 2

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Prompt: Meeting the Sturniolo’s gang wasn’t as bad as you thought. It almost made you forget why you were brought here in the first place. Almost.

Warning(s): Gore, Shooting, Profanity, Mafia type stuff, poorly written fight scene, not proofread

Note: I made some of the YouTubers from their most recent collaboration be a part of the gang. And yes, I have soft Matt. He along with some of the other members will show more of their bad, gangster side in future chapters. I also kind of rushed it, so I apologize. I will go back and fit it later.

Word count: 3,047 (I will make all my others chapters not as long as this for those who don’t want that many words in a chapter)

Part 1

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred, the memories of last night's encounter with the Sturniolo triplets creeping into your consciousness like a persistent fog. The images were vivid: the cold sweat on your father's brow, the imposing figures of Nick, Matt, and Chris, their presence commanding.

With a deep breath, you pushed the covers aside and rose from the bed, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the day might hold. The air was crisp, a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere of the party. You dressed quickly, the weight of the impending meeting settling in your stomach like a stone.

Stepping outside, the world seemed oblivious to the turmoil that churned beneath its surface. The neighborhood was peaceful, the only sounds were the distant laughter of children and the soft rustling of leaves. But the tranquility did nothing to ease your nerves.

The sleek black limousine was impossible to miss, idling at the curb like a silent predator. The door opened, and you were greeted by the sight of the Sturniolo triplets, their expressions unreadable. Nick's nod was curt, an unspoken invitation to enter their world. Matt's eyes flickered with a hint of curiosity, while Chris offered a reassuring grin, the edge of danger still lingering in his smile.

You took a seat, the leather cool against your skin. The interior of the limo was luxurious, a stark contrast to the ruthless reputation of its occupants. The triplets watched you, their gazes sharp and assessing. You swallowed hard, searching for words that wouldn't betray your anxiety.

"So," you began, your voice steadier than you felt, "I hear the city never sleeps because of you three."

Nick's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, and Matt's posture relaxed ever so slightly. Chris chuckled, the sound rich and surprisingly warm.

"We do keep things... interesting," Nick replied, his voice smooth like aged whiskey. “The city has many stories. Some are bedtime tales for the innocent; others are wake-up calls for the brave.”

Matt’s gaze was unreadable, yet you could tell that he was reading your expression, almost like he was deciphering the thoughts racing through your mind. “Marriage is a strategic move,” he mused, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. “It’s not about love, it’s about power and alliances.”

Chris leaned forward, light catching the edge of his grin. “But don’t worry,” he chimed in, his tone light but laced with seriousness. “We’re not monsters. We’re humans too. We’re businessmen, and in our world, we value a good partnership.”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the reality of the situation settling in. This wasn’t just a marriage proposal; it was something much more. You thought of what you could say and the next words could potentially have consequences that would be yours to bear.

“I understand the stakes”, you replied, your voice trying to remain steady. “But I’m not just a pawn to be moved at will. Like you said, we’re all human here.”

The brothers exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. It was clear that this was a new development, a wrinkle in their plan they hadn’t anticipated. But it was also clear that they respected strength, and perhaps, in that moment, they saw a glimpse of their own resolve reflected in you.

The conversation flowed more easily after that, small talk bridging the gap between your two worlds. You spoke of inconsequential things—the weather, the city's nightlife, the latest technology. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, you could almost forget who they were and the dangerous game you were all playing. Almost.

The limousine glided to a stop in front of an imposing mansion, its facade a testament to the power and wealth of the Sturniolo gang. As you stepped out, the grandeur of the residence struck you, a stark reminder of the world you were about to enter.

Inside, the atmosphere was charged, a mix of opulence and danger. The triplets led you through the halls, their steps echoing on the marble floors. You were introduced to the other members of the gang, each one a vital piece of the Sturniolo empire.

Nick gestured to a man with an intense gaze, "That's Colby Brock. He's our eyes and ears on the street. Nothing happens in this city without Colby knowing about it."

Matt nodded towards a figure leaning against the wall, "And there's Sam Golbach. He's the tech wizard. If it's digital and it's secure, Sam's the one who can crack it. He also works great with all kinds of weapons. If a weapon was created, he knows about it and will find out everything about it.

Chris's grin widened as he pointed out a man with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "Meet Jake Webber. He's the charmer, the face for our... less official dealings."

You followed their gazes as they introduced the rest. "That's Johnnie Guilbert," Nick said, "He handles our finances, making sure the money flows where it needs to."

“Tara Yummy," Matt added, "is our negotiator. She's got a way with words that can turn any deal in our favor."

"And last but not least," Chris chimed in, "is Larray. He's the life of the party, but don't let that fool you. He's as sharp as they come, especially when it comes to information gathering."

As you took in each face, a complex web of roles and responsibilities began to form in your mind. These were the people who ran the underworld, each with their own story, their own skills, and now, they were all looking at you.

The triplets watched you carefully, gauging your reaction. "Welcome to the family," they said in unison, their voices a blend of warmth and warning. It was clear that this was more than a mere introduction; it was an initiation into a world from which there was no easy escape.

After the introductions, you were led down a corridor lined with portraits of stern-looking individuals, their eyes following your every move. The triplets stopped in front of a heavy oak door, its surface carved with intricate designs that spoke of a long, storied history.

"This will be your room," Nick said, pushing the door open with a gentle nudge.

The room that greeted you was a study in contrasts. The walls were painted a deep, velvety maroon, accented with black trim that gave the space an air of sophistication and power. Heavy drapes in dark shades framed the windows, allowing slivers of light to pierce the room's natural dimness.

Despite the dark colors, the room was undeniably beautiful. A large, four-poster bed dominated the center, its ebony wood polished to a high shine and adorned with plush bedding in shades of crimson and gold. The furniture was of the same dark wood, each piece exquisitely crafted and perfectly placed to create a sense of balance and comfort.

On one wall, a fireplace crackled softly, the flames casting dancing shadows that played across the room. Above it, a painting of the city at night hung, its lights twinkling like stars in a dark sky, a constant reminder of the world that lay just beyond these walls.

The room was a sanctuary, a place of quiet strength and luxury. It was clear that every detail had been carefully considered, from the soft, thick carpet that cushioned your steps to the subtle scent of sandalwood that lingered in the air.

As you took it all in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. This was a room that belonged to someone of importance, someone who wielded power with a quiet confidence. It was a room that spoke of the Sturniolo legacy, and now, it was yours.

The soft knock at the door pulled you from your reverie, the room's grandeur momentarily forgotten. You crossed the plush carpet and opened the door to find Matt standing there, his expression serious.

"May I come in?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The room seemed to shrink with his presence, the air charged with a new intensity.

"There are rules," he began, his voice low and steady. "Rules that are non-negotiable if you're to stay here."

You nodded, a silent signal for him to continue.

"First," he said, holding up a finger, "loyalty is paramount. You do not betray the family, not by action or word. Second, discretion is expected. What happens within these walls stays within these walls. And third," he paused, his gaze locking with yours, "you must contribute. Everyone here has a role, a purpose. You'll need to find yours."

The rules were clear, each one a pillar that upheld the Sturniolo empire. They were not just guidelines; they were the very foundation of the life you were stepping into.

"Understand this," Matt added, "we protect our own, but we also demand respect and obedience. Step out of line, and there will be consequences."

The weight of his words settled over you, a tangible reminder of the reality of your new existence. This was no longer the world of lost cats and late newspaper deliveries. This was a world where power and survival were intertwined, where every choice could mean the difference between life and death.

"Are you willing to accept these terms?" Matt asked, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

You took a deep breath, the gravity of the decision before you not lost. "Yes," you replied, your voice a whisper of resolve. "I understand."

Matt nodded once, a silent acknowledgment of your acceptance. "Welcome to the Sturniolo family," he said, and with those words, the next chapter of your life began.

Led by Matt, you returned to the main lounge, the heart of the mansion where the gang congregated. The room buzzed with conversation and the clinking of glasses, a stark contrast to the solemnity of the corridors. You hesitated at the threshold, the weight of countless eyes upon you.

The lounge was expansive, the ceilings high and the furnishings a blend of luxury and comfort. Plush sofas and armchairs were arranged in inviting clusters, encouraging close-knit discussions. The walls were adorned with art that hinted at the gang's reach and influence, each piece telling a story of power and conquest.

At first, you lingered on the periphery, a silent observer to the camaraderie and dynamics that played out before you. The members of the gang moved with an ease that spoke of long-established bonds, their laughter and gestures, a language you had yet to learn.

But as the minutes passed, you found yourself drawn into the fold. Colby shared a street-smart joke that eased the tension in your shoulders. Sam's tech and weapon talk was surprisingly accessible, his enthusiasm infectious. Jake's charm was disarming, and soon you were sharing stories of your own, laughter spilling from your lips more freely than you'd have expected.

Johnnie discussed business with a sharp acumen that piqued your interest, while Tara's negotiation tales were both harrowing and exhilarating. Larray's vivacity was a bright spark in the room, his humor a welcome relief from the gravity of the situation.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the triplets. They stood apart, a silent, watchful presence. Their expressions were unreadable, but there was no mistaking the intent focus with which they observed your integration into the group. It wasn't surveillance, but rather an assessment, a measure of your ability to adapt and belong.

Nick's gaze met yours across the room, a silent nod of approval. Matt's lips quirked up in what might have been a smile, and Chris raised his glass to you, a silent toast. In that moment, you felt a flicker of something like acceptance, a sense that perhaps you could find your place here after all.

The evening wore on, and the initial awkwardness faded into a sense of belonging. You were still an outsider, but now you were an outsider with a foot in the door, and the path ahead seemed a little less daunting.

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm, golden hue over the faces of the assembled gang members. You entered quietly, still adjusting to the rhythms of this new life. The chatter ceased momentarily as all eyes turned to you, but a nod from Nick and a smile from Chris were all it took for the conversations to resume.

The breakfast table was a lively scene, plates piled high with food, and the air filled with the rich aromas of coffee and cooked meals. You took your place, feeling the last remnants of sleep fade away as the energy of the room enveloped you.

After the meal, as the others dispersed to their various tasks, Matt's hand on your arm stopped you. He led you to a quiet corner of the room, his expression earnest.

"There's something I need to discuss with you," he said, his voice low. "The wedding is going to happen soon. It's in a month."

The words hit you like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming. A wedding? The concept seemed out of place in the dangerous world you'd been thrust into, yet here it was, being presented as a matter of fact.

Your heart raced, a mix of shock and an emotion you hesitated to name.

"I... I understand," you managed to say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I won't disagree."

You looked into Matt's eyes, searching for answers, for reassurance. And there, in the depths of his gaze, you saw something. It was a look that conveyed a hint of respect for the role you were about to take on.

Days had passed since your conversation with Matt and you were starting to like your new living situation. You grew close with each member in your own way, and you were starting to see what was beneath all their hardened exteriors. Tara, with her sharp wit and silver tongue, had especially grown a liking to you. She had taken you under her wing as an older sister type figure.

One afternoon, Tara decided it was time for a break and claimed that “you look like you could use some fresh air. A little shopping might do us good.” You agreed, welcoming the chance to step away from your new environment.

The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of daily life. As you and Tara made your way through the crowds, you two laughed as she was telling you about some of the gang member’s weaknesses.

“Seriously?! Matt is afraid of ketchup?! Like he has never really tried it?” A smile formed on your face as you giggled at the news. Tara nodded while recounting the memory.

“Yeah, he seems terrified of it, and in fact–” She suddenly stopped. A serious expression taking over her features.

“What is it?” You were greatly confused but soon you saw why she had so abruptly stopped. A group of figures emerged from the shadows, their intentions clear from the malice in their eyes. Now that you realize it, you two were the only ones in the area and you started to get surrounded by the men.

Without hesitation, Tara pulled out a black and pink gun from her belt and fired it straight up in the air. A pink smoke materialized.

“Oh you think your tough shit huh? Calling the rest of the gang to come help you?” One of the men called.

“No, I just want the rest of my gang to see me beat your ass.” Tara replied with an attitude. The men did not seem to appreciate that as they all soon started charging in your direction. Tara unfazed called out to you.

“Y/n! Get down, now!” Without a moment's hesitation, you crouched down just as Tara pulled out another gun, this time black with gold designs. She fired, aiming it towards the man closest to you. The sound made you jump as you shut your eyes tightly, not wanting to see the bloody scene in front of you. Tara kept firing and all you could hear was the sound of the bullets. At one point she seemed to curse, making your eyes open. You immediately felt nauseous for all you could see was blood, dead bodies, and men still trying to put up a fight.

It seemed as though Tara ran out of bullets, but that didn’t stop her in the slightest. She put her fists up and started striking at the men around you. She was a whirlwind, her strikes precise and lethal. You would have tried to help but you didn’t know the first thing about defense or attacking someone. You assumed that if you tried to interfere, you would just get in her way.

And then, as quickly as it began, it was over. The surviving attackers retreated once they started hearing the sounds of running footsteps headed in your direction. As you thought, it was the rest of the gang. You saw Matt, Chris, and Nick leading the way.

Jake and Johnnie went to go check up on Tara while Matt, Chris and Nick made their way over to you. Colby, Sam, and Larray stayed on guard and watched for any other potential threats.

“Are you okay?” Matt questioned, worry hinted in his eyes. Chris and Nick stayed silent as they seemed to watch the interaction in front of them.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little shaken.” Nick then suddenly signaled to Matt.

“I don’t mean to rush this, but we should probably go. We caused too much attention” Chris intervenes. With that, you all head out to the limousine and make your way back to the mansion.