#but also i couldn't get but do a little tiny bit of writing...

[magpies-gold]

I have both eyes and they're both technically functional but I still relate to a lot of this because I also have monocular vision. In my case, the problem is with my brain, actually. It can only process images from one eye at a time because of a defect when I was born that required surgical intervention. Even after the fix, my brain just never learned that I still had two eyes, so it has no capacity to combine the image data like normal people do. As a result, I have no depth perception and I have a dominant eye that I use 90% of the time.

I also have visual snow that's especially noticeable when I close my eyes and at night in the dark, but as there isn't a lot of research on visual snow, I'm not sure if that's related or coincidental. In case people want to know a bit more about life as a person with monocular vision in a two-eyeballs kind of situation: I have a weird trick that I can do that seems to astound folks with binocular vision: I can consciously switch eyes. It's like flexing a muscle and I can decide to use the left one or the right in the same way that I can choose to wave my left or right hand. Trying to use both at the same time just doesn't work, though. If I really try, there's just this pressure feeling in my head, like I'm trying to imagine a colour that doesn't exist, but I can't make the two work together at all. This is likely just a me thing but my non-dominant eye is much worse than my dominant eye, and its been getting worse over the course of my life. It's still useful, but extremely near-sighted, so much so that it alone is legally blind and makes my optometrist and all their staff wince. But I can read very, very tiny close-up writing with it, so it comes in handy when I'm doing things like reading. My dominant eye is a little near sighted but not much. It's pretty stable. Also probably just a me thing: I have one lazy eye, but it relates to the monocular vision. It's my dominant one. If I use the non-dominant eye, you can actually tell when I've switched to it because my dominant eye "switches off" and rolls a little bit up and out. It was worse when I was a kid (my mom saying "Meghan, are you looking at me?" was a common thing) but it still happens nowadays. My non-dominant eye isn't lazy, so when I'm looking around normally with my dominant eye you can't tell that there's anything different about me than your average Joe. It's a mostly invisible disability for me (and I still feel strange calling it a disability because it's just how I've always seen, and yet here I am making a list of complexities regarding my vision, so....) A final possibly-just-me thing is that I hold my pencil like a space alien and always have. The reasoning I've given since I was a kid was because of which eye I use, I wouldn't be able to see what the end of my pencil was doing if I were holding it "correctly", so I draw and write like this:

(Video here, if you want to see the rest of that: https://www.tumblr.com/magpies-gold/699322866172346368?source=share) Can confirm from the above that head-tilt is a thing when one has monocular vision, even with two eyes. Because of the head tilt, I also get people startling me on my non-dominant side a lot, possibly because with my "blind" side tilted back and away from what I'm looking at, they think I'll see them sooner since that eye is closer to looking behind me. Therefore they don't think they're sneaking up on me. That is, right up until they appear, as if by magic, in my field of vision and I go AAAA!

Depth perception problems that I personally encounter: I don't drive so I don't have a lot to add there except that trying to learn scared me too much to proceed. I was not comfortable with how much slower my reaction time was on my left side or how I couldn't accurately judge where exactly objects in front of me were, so I gave it up in my teenage years in favour of a good pair of sneakers and a transit pass. But I will loudly say that going down stairs sucks. I am very opinionated on how much I love and appreciate when stairs have the bright yellow stripe at the edge, or some other marker to aim for. If stairs are all one uniform colour I am hesitant as hell putting my feet down because I can't tell how far a drop it is. I'm slow on descents on unfamiliar stairs and I desperately need the railing to hold on to. Going up stairs isn't bad because I have other visual cues to help me, and I'm much faster there. I also don't do well on really uneven terrain, like the rocky shores we have on beaches here. Watching my fiancé go hopping and skipping over rocks like a mountain goat gives me light wistful despair because I know if I tried that I would miscalculate almost immediately and break all my bones. My tactic is to get low and go slow if I have to cross anything where distances get tricky to guesstimate. I become a crab. I also have friends who know to slow down and will also let me hold their hand (bless). I do have peripheral vision ghosts on the non-dominant side even with two eyes. The most common thing I see is ghost cats. I'll see my cat jump up on a counter in my peripheral vision only to turn and find nothing there. Sometimes my brain will also suggest there might be a person walking in my peripheral vision. It's just overcompensating for what it has to fill in the blanks on. I can't catch things that are thrown at me except by sheer luck. Sports like baseball and badminton were brutal in high school and I got into many a verbal confrontation with my teacher while trying to explain that I had a very good reason to be afraid of the projectile coming for my face. I told him more than once to go close one eye and try it for himself and see what it's like. No peeking! I can't peek. Similarly, I can't fly a drone. I learned that very quickly when I accidentally flew Tim's full tilt into a wall. Oops. >> Drone was okay. I, on the other hand, was absolutely boggled by how I just could not tell where it was in space until boom, I'd crashed it. And that's because another thing is that I was personally born the way that I am, so I'm fully acclimated to it. I know nothing else, and I don't notice all the micro calculations that I do to translate my 2D view into 3D space so that I can move around in it. At least, I don't until I have a situation where the object I'm working with suddenly has no context, like a drone in mid-air, and then I suddenly notice my limitations. 3D movies largely don't work for me. They're basically just regular 2D movies involving stupid glasses. -shrug- Finally, video games with a lot of icons around the edges of the screen are a nightmare for me because I can't see all of my monitor at once. Again: slow as balls reaction time because I have to re-calibrate and turn my head a lot. The concept of a wide-screen monitors makes me go "Jesus, why?"

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[vividxpages]

༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚. "the craving"༉‧₊˚🤍❀༉‧₊˚. PART 1

Read Part 2 here 🤍

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 6300

summary: after a long day of scouting together, your betrothed Jacaerys and you are forced to seek shelter at an inn when a storm is raging outside. The only "problem"; there is only one, tiny bed for the two of you.

warnings: sexual tension, they're both virgins, but the Targaryen ancestors wrote a kamasutra for future generations and Jace has read it ;) , only one bed trope, cuddling/spooning, sexual content (making out, vaginal fingering, a little bit of dirty talk from Jace), aftercare

a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this story and it's my longest one for Jace so far, hope you like it! <3 I also have some ideas for a potential part 2 👀....

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

It was a rare occurrence for you, being chosen by the Queen to scout for the day, patrolling the sky and the lands underneath it from a safe distance. 

You were a princess of Dragonstone, but you were also a dragonrider, even if you were still young and an honor like this filled you with undeniable pride.

It was an even rarer occurrence that she allowed Jacaerys to join you.

Your recent betrothal to the prince had been a blessing, making your strong bond of friendship weave itself only tighter, but it also had brought up feelings you'd thought you simply could've brushed aside before.

Jace had gotten more...protective of you, more tender and you could not help but feel yourself being drawn to him too, longing for the mornings spent together at breakfast after saying goodnight to each other on your doorstep the night before.

Of course, there were rules, things to do when courting and things to avoid, such as sharing a room before marriage and the things that could happen in said room…

But you were never the one to follow rules lightly and weren't you going to be married anyways? All you needed was a little push until you'd surrender your heart and your body to Jacaerys...

And somehow, you had a feeling you weren't alone with these forbidden desires.

Today had been mostly spent in the sky, flying together as if you had never done something else. You were a unit, always knowing where the other was and what they did and it seemed like your dragons were delighted as well by the recent development of your planned union. 

You couldn't help but laugh with the wind when they playfully snapped at each other, both making little besotted growls from time to time, like Jace and you were interrupting a date.

Everything would've been alright if the storm hadn't moved into your direction.

It was getting darker and darker and both of you couldn't make your dragons move any faster, since they were young just as you and Jace were. Situations like this couldn't exactly be trained beforehand.

When the rain hit you, your mood dropped instantly.

"It's getting late!" You heard Jacaerys' familiar voice calling over to you through the wind and rain. "The weather isn't going to get any better and we are too far away from Dragonstone to make it back before midnight. We have to find a place to spend the night, it's no use."

You knew he could see the frustration on your face, worrying what your people back in the safety of Dragonstone's walls would think if the future of a more hopeful realm did not return as punctually as expected.

"She's going to be worried out of your mind for you." You called back, but the rain in front of you was blurring your vision and you kept pushing your hair out of your face.

Vermax let out a displeased growl as thunder rolled through the clouds. Jace squinted his eyes to make you out next to him, the storm getting stronger and stronger by the minute. "I'm not going to let us get struck by lightning! There's a merchant route right under us, if I remember it right. We land, now."

You reluctantly tugged the reigns of your dragon tighter around your fists and steered her down, following Jace and Vermax through the clouds as they descended. You couldn't argue with him, but a stop in an unknown region was risky. Even if you two were in the company of your dragons.

By the time you had landed in a clearing of the forest Jace had spotted from up above, your clothes were dripping wet on the ground.

Climbing down your dragon's back, you couldn't help but snort as Vermax immediately seeked shelter underneath the massive pine trees from the weather, his rider fondly shaking his head at his companion. 

As you approached, Jace sighed and squinted up into the sky above you. "I know you dislike this, as I do. But I'm not taking a risk. It's better to wait the night instead of getting attacked in a thunderstorm, don't you agree?"

"Yes…" You looked at him, still a little conflicted. "But we can only hope our people at Dragonstone agree with you as well."

Jace smiled at you, raising both his hands in defense. Like this, eyes bright and wet hair curling around his already beautiful face, he was a vision, making you permanently weak in the knees. "They will agree, because I am protecting the princess, my betrothed, as you are protecting yours."

Yours.

You involuntarily shuddered, the promise of being married to him one day never tiring of sending lightning through you.

While you understood the Queen's choice to wait with marrying you because of the war, you were growing tired of being denied what you craved so badly; not the ring on your finger - a beautiful thing you knew Jace had already commissioned to being forged, one of Vermax' scales sitting in its silver center - but the boy you were dreaming about at night, visiting you in the quietness of Dragonstone, sliding underneath your warm covers to-

"Everything alright?" Jace had stepped to your side, one hand on your shoulder. 

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "We should stop and rest at the first place we can find."

The traveler's road was empty and no one noticed the two of you stepping out of the forest and making your way over to the first building you saw, a small inn with its windows alight from the inside.

You shivered at the thought of a warm fire and wrinkled your nose at your clammy leathers. On top of it, your belly growled and Jacaerys and you shared a look.

A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry, I'll find you something to eat even if I have to hunt it myself tonight."

You blushed, his words always managing to touch something deep within you.

Jace and you entered the inn, immediately enveloped by its delicious warmth and sociability. As Prince and Princess, you were not used to a civility like this and for a moment, you wondered what it'd be like to live like this, leading a simple life with Jace where no one would know you and you could do whatever you pleased. What a dangerous thought this was...

Just before you and him reached the small reception counter of the inn, Jace placed one of his gloved hands on your lower back, a secure and telling gesture that made your skin underneath the riding leathers burn pleasantly.

"Good evening." He spoke confidently. "My wife and I are looking for a place to stay for the night. The storm has caught us off guard on the road."

The innkeeper looked at you and although you knew he didn't want to hear it, you silently said a prayer of gratitude for Jace's beautiful dark hair and eyes. If he'd have silver hair, all could be lost, depending on the opinion of the inn's staff on this ongoing war.

You tugged your cloak tighter around you, hiding the riding leathers on your body, and looked back calmly. You forced your bottom lip to wobble as if you only now remembered the cold haunting your bones. How fast could you make your way back to the forest and your dragons before the whole house was up on their feet for two Targaryens in its midst?

"It caught us off guard alright as well, good sir." The innkeeper said goodnaturedly after a moment and you sighed on the inside. "The taproom is bursting at the seams tonight. I can only offer a single room, but I'm sure it's no problem for two young lovebirds like you. Dinner will be served for you, too, if you require it."

Jace swallowed thickly, not meeting your gaze at the prospect of a tiny room for the two of you. 

So far, your betrothal had consisted of courting each other quietly and sweetly, the long promised wedding pushed back again and again, much to your frustration. To share a room with Jace before you were married - it sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't say it was a bad one.

"We require it. And thank you for the room. We will pay in advance, of course." Jace produced a small sack of coins from his cloak and you stepped aside and peeked into the full taproom, trying to calm your racing heart.

When he was done, Jacaerys stepped up to you and smiled encouragingly, although you could see through him instantly and saw the same nervousness possessing you. This was no place for you two and yet here you were.

"Dinner, my lady?" Jace asked under his breath and with a snort, you let yourself be led into the taproom, carefully avoiding any curious eyes on you as you found a quiet corner in the far back where hopefully no one would disturb you or have questions. 

Quickly, two plates with bread, cheese and tomatoes were brought to your table and Jacaerys and you began to eat, tense in your wariness for your surroundings but comfortable in each other's presence. 

He politely declined the waitress's offer of beer, but made her bring you a pitcher of clear water, the day spent underneath the sun having dried out your bodies like nothing else.

After a while - you were still munching on your bread and Jace looked about to be finished - he took a few of his tomatoes and placed them on your plate, a silent encouragement.

"Thank you." You said quietly and ate them too while he kept watch, over you and the room behind you. But in all the hustle going on in there, no one had time or interest for a young couple on the road and soon, your plates were empty and you retreated upstairs and down the narrow corridor.

The last door was yours.

Your eyes widened shortly as you took in your room for the night. There was a window where rain splattered against the glass, a small table with a chair and a bed, although it could barely be called that if you thought of your enormous bed at Dragonstone.

Beside you, you could feel Jace pausing as he locked the door, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the tiny bed in the corner of the room. If only one of you could fit, it'd be a miracle and the floor was in no condition to be slept on.

You took off your cloak and threw it over the chair, opening your mouth to speak just as Jace did.

"I'm taking the floor." He declared and you wanted to roll your eyes and also kiss him for his selflessness.

"You will not sleep on this floor, Jace." You argued and as you wrung out your damp hair, the last droplets of water fell onto the boards, blooming in the dust covering them. 

Jace stayed silent for a moment, wrapping a cloth from within his cloak around the doorknob and tying a tight knot, so you wouldn't be disturbed by any unpleasant visitors tonight.

"Please don't be ridiculous now." You tried again, softer this time. "You had a long flight today, too. We slept side by side when we were kids sometimes, remember? We'd fall asleep in the gardens of King's Landing while we watched the clouds, dreaming of riding our dragons someday."

"But we are not kids anymore." Jacaerys said quietly.

No, you weren't. 

And as you looked at him, reaching behind himself to unclasp his cloak, his dark curls still framing his serious face, you knew there was not an ounce of childlike innocence in you when it came to him.

"And I-" He interrupted himself as his cloak joined yours on the chair and you did not step back, only shuffling closer to rest your hand on his nape. 

What had gotten into you? This boldness, it was dangerous and misplaced and- very much exciting.

Jace slowly looked at you, his dark eyes like burning embers, bringing the heat to your cheek you so desperately needed.

"I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you, princess." He confessed hoarsely and for a moment you thought the wooden floor underneath you had turned into water and you were trying to dance on top of it, unsteady.

You exhaled shakingly, tongue tied in your shock at his confession, but a burning heat swirling pleased in your stomach. 

After a moment, he forced himself to tear himself away from you and cleared his throat. "I mean this in the most chivalrous manner, but I think we should take off our leathers if we don't want to be sick in two days."

You agreed and the two of you turned away from each other, the spell broken.

You faced the wall by the bed as you reached behind yourself, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your uniform. Whoever had invented dragonrider clothes had not intended them to be taken off without the help of half a dozen maids.

Your movements were clumsy and unpracticed, used to getting attended to by your maids for these kinds of things, preferably followed by a hot bath after a long flight.

But now, you were helpless and frustration grew quickly in you until you tilted your head back and let out a tired sigh.

"Jace?" You spoke over your shoulder and heard shuffling. 

"Yes?" 

"I...I can't take them off myself." You admitted, risking a look behind you to see his leather uniform draped over the table, only thin linen pants and a matching top remaining on him. You had never seen him like this, never could've imagined what was laying underneath his princely attires. He looked...innocent, like a boy with big eyes as he watched you. Biting your lip, you added: "Could you help me, at least with my laces?"

"Of course." He breathed and stepped closer as you turned around again, holding yourself completely still as you felt his warmth radiating against your back.

Suddenly, his hand was in your hair, brushing in awe over the wavy strands. "Can I…"

"Yes." You breathed, your nerves fluttering. "Please."

You shuddered as he carefully brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your tightly laced back to him.

Then, with surprisingly skillful fingers, he began to swiftly unlace you, his hands dancing over your spine and making their way down your back.

You were sure neither of you was breathing, your mind growing a bit foggy as you let him attend you like this, the task of a maid replaced by the care of your betrothed.

"All done." He whispered after a while and you were snapped out of your dreamy thoughts. You could already breathe more lightly as the riding leather dangled down on your sides, the front only held up now by your hands on your chest.

"Thank you." You whispered back. What would happen if you turned around now and faced him? Were you too far gone already or would you be able to remember yourself before it was too late?

"I'll light some candles and I...I won't look." Jace said flustered and turned away again, giving you as much privacy as he could as he busied himself with the unlit candles by the table.

Quickly, you slid out of the rest of your uniform until only the thin dress you wore underneath remained. With only these undergarments on you, you almost tripped as you slipped under the covers of the bed and pulled them all up to your chin.

The cold rushed back into you tenfold and you pressed your lips together to keep your teeth from clattering. 

Silently, you watched as Jace lit the last candle and checked the doorknob for one last time to make sure you were safe for the night.

When there was nothing to be done about the state of the room anymore, he met your gaze and asked one more time: "Are you sure?"

I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you…

You nodded, shuffling to the wall as far as you could. There was barely space left for another person, even like this. "Yes. We both need rest."

It seemed like your shivering only intensified as you felt his weight dip on the mattress, joining you as carefully as he could without bumping his knee into your side.

When he was settled, on his slim back while you laid on your side, facing away from him to hide your burning face, he drew the blanket over the two of you, trapping you in for a tight fit and combined warmth, hopefully.

The silence in the room was thick, loaded by something you could not name yet. 

"Try to sleep." Jace whispered to you in the darkness. "Tomorrow, at sunrise, we'll take flight."

You tried your best, you really did. 

But there was no use, not when he was laying so close to you. You were too aware of him, too overstimulated by the mere thought of his body so close to yours, his body heat radiating off of him while you still missed your own.

You were sure the whole mattress was shaking with your quivering, your lips blue and limbs clammy from the cold that had soaked into you on dragonback. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed for a slumber that wouldn't come. 

Jacaerys couldn't bear it anymore.

Seeing you, feeling you shiver so pitifully, he had to put an end to it. It was what a good husband would do.

"Princess…" He whispered into the darkness and you tensed. "You're freezing. If you'd let me...I want to help."

"Help?" You echoed, looking over your shoulder. Like this, you could only make out his eyes in the dark, his silhouette tempting and comforting at once.

Jace swallowed thickly, shuffling until he laid on his side and could support his head with his hand. "If we'd be...closer, I could warm you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, his boldness surprising both you and himself. As scandalous as it was, you already felt yourself drawn to him, your cold bones screaming yes, yes, yes.

"If I won't inconvenience you." You murmured shyly. "I'm shaking like a leaf."

"I'll do my best to change that." Jace promised dutifully, darkly, and shuffled even closer.

Now, you were sure your heart was going to give out. 

Underneath the blanket you shared, Jace pulled you to him, his arm sneaking around your waist as your back met his chest.

You sighed, a small sound of relief as the warmth of him enveloped you and you could feel it also leaving his chest, as if you were two pieces melting together into one.

It was a lover's embrace, there was no doubt about it, but the line between you had already been blurred tonight, ever since he had called you his wife downstairs.

It should've surprised you more, how well your bodies fitted together, how natural the curve of your spine found its place against his lean torso. With his arm securely around you, making sure you'd stay connected, you were not sure if you could not breathe anymore or were finally able to.

"Is this good?" He asked you quietly after some time, your heads now sharing a pillow, a space, an embrace.

No. You needed more.

"Yeah...you are really warm." You breathed out and he chuckled and gods, you could feel the sound against you and thought nothing about this was real, not the inn, not tonight, certainly not him.

You shifted in his embrace, trying to get a little more comfortable when he suddenly let out a low hiss, your bum brushing against-

Oh.

Oh.

You wanted to combust.

You wanted to turn around and kiss him stupid. You wanted to do everything and yet, you were frozen in place, hotness rushing through you at the thought that your prince had gotten aroused while he laid with you like this.

"'m sorry…" He whispered near your ear and in front of your inner eye, you saw his eyes closing in defeat, having given in so quickly to his carnal desires.

You were about to be a very bad betrothed.

Innocently, you moved back against him and he choked on his breath, his mouth now hovering over your nape, the damp hair you wished to be out of your way now to feel him better.

Your hand rested on his forearm around you  and you traveled your fingertips upwards, brushing over his knuckles until you could entwine your fingers, squeezing him reassuringly.

"Princess...we can't." You wanted to chuckle at his unconvinced tone, an unfamiliar strain to his voice like he was trying his best and most to hold himself back from giving in to you.

"We can." You whispered back, kissing his hand in yours and hearing him sigh behind you. "I want you so badly, I feel like I'm dying."

It was too much, to hear those same words he only dared to think in his mind, it shattered the last bit of self control Jacaerys could muster up. He had been aroused ever since he helped you undress, the dreams that usually had him waking up in a sweat in his chambers at Dragonstone now coming true right in front of him.

"Please, Jace." You added with a sigh, pushing back against him. "Give in, please."

He surged forward, his lips making contact with your neck and setting you aflame.

You let out a low moan, the sight of the wall disappearing in front of you as you closed your eyes blissfully, focused only on the feel of Jacaerys lapping at your neck.

It was like he tasted something exquisite and unique, taking his time as he brushed your hair aside, his other hand delicately holding your jaw as he suckled the sensitive spot underneath your ear, making you twitch back in surprise against the outline of his hard cock.

He stifled a groan, something final snapping in him and he turned your head, his finger swiping over your chin and cheek as you both stared at each other, pupils gone wide and dark with desire.

"May I kiss you?" He asked huskily and you nodded quickly, your hand finding its way into his curls, tugging him closer until his hot breath grazed your bottom lip.

"Yes." You let out breathlessly. "Kiss me, please, I-"

He closed the distance between you, engulfing your mouth in a hot, desperate kiss, both of your lust and longing for each other too grand to think clearly anymore.

Still gently holding your jaw and you in his arms, he kissed you passionately, his lips moving slow and relishing against yours. You sighed happily against him, your fingers tightening their hold on his curls and making him groan, his free hand spreading itself out on your stomach.

Heat sloshed through you as your tongues danced, the kiss so much more than what you'd ever could've dreamed of. You never wanted to stop again.

His embrace was possessive, with not much room for you to do anything else but give yourself over to him, caged between the wall and his lean body.

You wanted to drown in his kisses, never to be seen again.

When the air in your lungs got thinner, making you lightheaded, the two of you pulled apart, panting and staring at each other with kiss-bruised lips.

Your hand fell over his own on your stomach, the fabric of your undergarment dress worthy to you of being burned in the heat of the moment.

"Can I touch you?" Jace gasped into your ear, almost a plea.

You nodded frantically, but he shook his head, his curls brushing against your cheek. "I need to hear it from you, love."

Gods, you were truly going to die by his tender hands.

"Yes…" You hissed, your mind already drunk on him. "I want you to touch me, Jace, I need it so badly."

You ground your bum back against him and Jace released a moan, the sound going right into your core, where wetness was pooling between your thighs and making a mess of you.

He peppered kisses on your cheek and jaw, relishing the way your back arched against him as his hand dove underneath the blanket and fumbled with the seams of your gown, tugging up the fabric as he went.

His hand slid over your naked leg, the skin still a little cold and covered in goosebumps he hoped were his doing. Up and up he went and you were panting by now, mind and body controlled by arousal for him, just for him.

Resting a gentle hand on your inner thigh, he spread your legs open, just a little, and kissed you once again, so he could feel the exact moment you'd-

"Ah-" You gasped in his mouth as his fingertips touched your clit and it shouldn't have been enough, you wanted so much more, but you already felt like you were able to find release from just this.

"Gods, you're driving me insane." He groaned, burying his face in your neck and suckling on it as he slowly began to rub circles onto you, his hand dipping down further to gather more of your wetness on his fingers. 

You shuddered at the sensation of his hand between your legs and then you keened as he obscenely spread your own juices over your clit, swirling his finger over the aching bundle of nerves.

"Fuck…" You whispered, your mouth falling open as he started a careful rhythm, letting you adjust to the sensation of having your clit pampered like this, easy circles and slight rubs.

Laying on your side only seemed to heighten your senses.

Your quivering legs tangled, bodies firmly pressed together, his hands around you like vines protecting a precious secret. You did not know anymore if you were tense or melting as he played with you, experimenting with the direction his fingers could go, gently tapping against your sensitive flesh which made you see stars...

And of course, your thighs - becoming sticky with your own juices, his finger being joined by another one and carefully massaging your most intimate part. With every round they went on you, your grasp on control slipped a little more and soon, you were a writhing mess, bucking your hips against Jace's hand as he continued to kiss your neck and relished the delicious little sounds you made because of him.

"You're so wet." He murmured, in awe of you and your body and you moaned, slumping against his back as he gently plucked on your clit, shiver after shiver running through you and ruining you. "I only dreamed of you like this, princess. You are a sight to behold."

You wanted to say something, anything, but it seemed like your brain had melted, mewling as he cupped your whole core and slowly shook his hand, the friction intensifying only more as vibrations were sent through your pussy.

"Where did you learn all this?" You asked breathlessly and he chuckled, blushing and nuzzling your sweaty neck lovingly as he dipped his fingers lower, almost where you needed him the most.

"The library at Dragonstone can be very...educational. On many different topics." He murmured melodically and you were still, awaiting, as he pushed your undergarments up more, his hand drifting up over your stomach and towards your chest. "Some of the books our ancestors kept there are very...interesting to read. Diaries of fiery encounters and instructions on love making. I had to resist taking notes when I read some of those passages, on how to please women when I could only picture you in my head."

A guttural, broken moan left you when he mouthed at your neck, licking over your exposed throat.

It distracted you just enough that he nearly sent you into an early release as his wet, glistening thumb circled around one of your rosy buds before he raised the same finger to his lips and had a taste.

You both groaned in union, your thighs squeezing together as you stared at him, his own eyes closed in bliss at the taste of you. Just as he had imagined…like honeydew.

He slid his hand underneath your neck so you could rest your head on his strong arm, the same hand coming down to cup one of your aching tits. Like in everything else; you were perfect for each other here. His hand had just the right size for you.

You eagerly spread your legs again as his other hand snaked down your body again, both his and your remaining clothes drenched by sweat, the room smelling of sex.

"I'm dying to know how you feel around my fingers, princess." He confessed and you bit your lip, trying to fight the urge to cross your eyes as his fingers ghosted over your wet clit again; and losing. "Can I? Can I have you like this, my love?"

What a dirty tongue your betrothed had…

If your mind had been any clearer and not as fucked out, you would've asked him if he also learned that in his books, but that was a conversation for another day.

"Yes." You gasped instead, bucking once again against his hand over you, cupping your core and squeezing your clit between two of his digits, making you moan brokenly. "Please, Jace, I need you to fuck me, please, fuck me-"

You knew he couldn't, you both couldn't, at least this much of both your composures remained. But there were other ways to find release and apparently, your sweet betrothed was an expert at executing them.

He raised himself a little, peeking over your shoulder so he could look at your heated face, rosy cheek and wet, parted lips just for him. Jace pulled you into a kiss, sweet and slow this time and you moaned right into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks and you were overwhelmed in the best possible way as Jace's finger slid through your juices once again before he entered you.

You could've sworn you heard his and your dragon roar triumphantly in the distance as he slid his finger into your drenched core, your moan loud enough to go beyond the walls of your room and raise questions - or brows at such distasteful actions behind closed doors. If they only knew.

He groaned at how tightly you squeezed his single digit, fantasizing how you'd feel around his cock. Jace twitched against your back and you held him only tighter, your hot walls eager to let him in. 

You were so wet, it was a slippery little affair and as he let you adjust, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your clit, his rhythm reflected in the way your core clenched up deliciously.

You locked eyes with him, half-lidded and ready to die a sweet death at his hands, begging him softly: "You can move. It's okay, you won't hurt me." 

It was like you were playing your wedding night and he let out a shuddering breath, needing to stay in control before he threw it out of the window and deflowered you right here, in a bed and place that wasn't worthy of you. He'd never forgive himself if he would not make it special.

Slowly, he pushed forward and further into your heat, his finger quickly becoming wet and slippery and covered in you.

You let out a satisfied sigh, letting yourself be kissed as he oh so gently began to build up an easy rhythm, not brave enough yet to sink to the knuckle into you, but feeding your soaked cunt more and more of him, his mind alert to spot any discomfort in you and ready to stop and wait for you.

But you had wanted him for far too long to need any more caution from him.

And the sounds - gods, the sounds were driving you insane. You were so wet, your pussy was making slurping sounds at the intrusion of his finger and you bit your lip blissfully when he finally found his pace, light and easy on you, but no less hot and intense.

Only the rain splattering against the windows and your little moans and gasps could be heard as he fingered you gently, the pads of his finger dragging over your walls and trying to find the one tiny spot he had read about, enough to make a woman lose her mind and all final restraints if done right.

You were mewling, gripping his arm over your chest tightly and occasionally biting his skin softly to stop you from being too loud. 

"You are so beautiful." He slurred against your temple, keeping his eyes only on you to capture every one of your reactions and keep it in his mind.

You moaned wantonly, maybe because of the praise or because his thumb dragged over your pulsing clit, he didn't know. But oh, how he wanted to find out.

For just a moment, he stilled his movements and you looked at him with wide eyes, your hips trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, but him not letting you. 

Jace watched you closely, quickly kissing your quivering lips before his voice dropped low and he murmured: "Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, my love. You're squeezing me so tightly, ñuha jorrāeliarzy, you are the most beautiful thing in the whole realm and all mine."

"Yours." You echoed and whimpered, solely because of his words.

He couldn't help but smile besottedly, storing the effect of his words on you away for another time and  resuming to fingering you gently. 

Soon, after you whispered you were ready for one more, two of his fingers were now softly pumping in and out of you and you knew you could not last much longer under his sweet tormention.

Your hips had begun to move on their own and he watched you with both fascination and love as you rode on his fingers, your eyes closed and your lovely mouth opened in the sweetest o-shape. 

If he'd still now, he knew you'd continue to fuck yourself on him and god, how he wanted to see it, but there was still one ace up his sleeve and he couldn't wait any longer to try it.

He crooked both his fingers upwards and you tensed in his arms, moaning into his arm and losing yourself almost completely as he touched a part of you you didn't even know existed.

"Jacaerys, gods, I-" You whimpered as the pads of his fingers rubbed against that rough little spot in you, your hips twitching uncontrollably.

"Let go for me, princess." He encouraged you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling his face against yours sweetly. "I can feel you dripping around me, your perfect cunt weeping for me…"

You were floating, only held back by Jacaerys' arms around you, playing your body like a delicate instrument as one hand played with your tit while the other still rubbed against your sweet spot, eager to bring you to release.

His thumb came back onto your clit and your hips arched, pressing yourself forward against his sticky hand as he rubbed delicious circles on you.

"Come for me, my love, I need to see, need to feel you." He coaxed you further, smiling against your neck and adding in a whisper: "Let go for me, my sweet wife."

That was it.

You exploded, coming hard around his fingers, whimpering pitifully as tears of pleasure and overwhelm escaped your eyes. 

You rode your high, your hips helplessly bucking against Jacaerys as he kissed your tears away, softly talking you through it and soothing you down with gentle hands from a peak you had no idea how to recover from…

Jace watched you closely, fascinated and so, so in love, as he slowly slipped his fingers out of you, an obscene string connecting them to your wetness he could not see.

To make sure you would not feel too empty, his hand cupped your mound, keeping you warm and secure as little aftershocks ran through you and you were panting and peppering little kisses on his arm, clinging to him with all your might.

"You were so good…" Jace whispered lovingly, kissing whatever he could reach of you, his body keeping you warm and sated in the aftermath of both your actions. "So, so beautiful…"

You hummed, tired and thoroughly happy as you slowly calmed down, relishing the feeling of his warm hand still on you, carefully avoiding your spent parts so you wouldn't feel overstimulated.

Exhaustion clung to your bones, a mixture of the long day on dragonback and the oblivion of good sex, but you still felt Jacaerys hard against your back. He had not yet found his release and you were eager to give it to him.

You tried to turn around, to reach down between you and touch him, but he was not having it.

"Sh sh, this was only about you, my love." He shushed you, his strong arms efficiently stopping you from wriggling against him. He soothed his hands over your sides and kissed your temple. "When I take you to bed properly, it will be at Dragonstone where I can take care of you as a loving husband should."

You shivered at the promise, without any coldness left in your veins.

He smiled against your cheek, his fingers lightly drawing circles onto your hip bone as he leaned closer and whispered into your ear: "And then, I'm going to take my time with you, princess, learning how you taste on my tongue...ravishing that sweet little cunt of yours…"

Your core deliciously clenched up at the thought, but you were also sleepy, your eyelids already betraying your intentions as they drooped. You snuggled yourself closer against Jacaerys, stifling a yawn.

"Don't worry, we'll have all the time in the world…" Jace lulled you closer to sleep, the sweet nothings he whispered to you being like a warm blanket draping itself over you.

"Jacaerys…" You mumbled, feeling your grasp on staying awake slip further as his hands ran softly over you, making your mind hazy and blank. "Thank you...I- I'm very warm now…"

He laughed quietly, his chest blooming with happiness as he felt your body slump against his. 

Jace closed his own eyes, resting his chin on top of your head and holding you against him protectively. He was the luckiest prince of the realm tonight and forever if he only had you.

And you, his princess, were warm and sated and in the embrace of the one you belonged to.

And suddenly, as you drifted off into a long and peaceful slumber, flying back to Dragonstone in the morning did not look so dreadful anymore...

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[blkkizzat]

kali. elaborate on choso's dick😋

pasiiii bby!!! omg yass i would love to expand on bbygyal chosito's ochinchin.

our chositos dick is the perfect size tbh. its not lung penetrating long like gojos or rip your walls thicc like tojis. but clocking in at 7.53 inches long and 5.58 inches in girth (avg girth is 4.8-5.3). so hes still above average but we don't feel like we are dying taking it hfkshfkjsd.

color wise? tip: #db6e79 (you're low key kinda scared how rosy and angry it looks) shaft: f5d8c6 cummies: #fcfbfa

you feel just the tiniest bit of discomfort. i say tiny cause this man is HUGE on foreplay so you will be more than ready and stretched out (i mean it, it dont matter if y'all in the backseat of the car he will BE your seat and want you to ride his face for at least 20 minutes, thats quickie foreplay to him LOL).

his tip is slighty larger though so getting it in or just the tip is a bit of a struggle but its not too bad onces hes inside. there's an upward curve to his dick that deliciously scrapes his tip along your g-spot when he pulls out and slams back in. oh you couldn't squirt before? best believe you a fountain now bitch shdkfdfhbksj.

before you even see his dick you see how hard its thumping in his tattered black jeans. bbygal gets REAL excited at the thought of fucking us and he's not soo overly large where his cock is too heavy to still twitch as much as it does. you will visibly see (and noticeably feel beating against your walls inside) how fiercely his dick twitches in anticipation/excitement of feeling you.

when do you first see his dick, whether he's a virgin or not, you think he's already cummed his pants once you see how the fluids are slowly but steadily dribbling out of his tip. nah, mamas, thats just his pre. you really don't even need lube at all with how wet he gets you and how much pre is coating him. that said, if you thought he leaked a lot of pre out of his pretty little mushroom tip, just wait until that man is cumming inside of you. buckets hoe. BUCKETS. to the point you think there might be something medically wrong with him...

there definitely is something mentally off tho because normally guys that cum as hard as he does (body spasms, pitchy lil whines and throaty moans), would be too sensitive to continue. but he will cry thick tears rolling down his redden cheeks and onto you at the intensity of his sensitivity as he continues to rail into you. which is a good thing too because he definitely came not even one minute in.

yeah our bbygal is a minute man but our lil minute man is a trooper (no actually he just crazy asf for you to the point of masochism) and will stay hard by activating blood manipulation. yeah RIP your coochie, you better start writing the eulogy once this happens.

best to keep our baby in positions facing you so he can every once in a while snap out of his coochie hypnosis by slowing down or speeding up based on your expressions/cries. otherwise with your face stuffed in the pillow and muffled cries, he might go a little overboard in backshots. the jiggling of your ass rippling against his flesh and splashing your fluids like waves will have him transported thinking he is in the middle of a euphoric ocean, losing himself in the motions.

this is why he might not be the biggest or thickest but you will still be just as sore in the morning cause he will fuck you the longest. oh you passed out? don't worry you gave him the somnophilia pass. you don't remember? oh baby, that's cause you were far too fucked out by the time you did. tbf you didn't even remember your own name then.

but don't worry our bbygyal is sweet and is king of aftercare... once you do eventually get that aftercare... in the morning. yeah he also fucked himself unconscious and fell asleep inside you. hugging you tightly to him you're only a tiny bit crushed and overheated. but its okay cause he is so cute the way he is tonguing your nipple and cooing affectionate noises for you like a baby even in his sleep.

just softly pet his hair and try to get a few more minutes of sleep tho... you wouldn't want to wake him just yet.

you're still tired and he will have morning wood you'll have to deal with once he wakes up. ;)

[a-aexotic]

HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

--

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

--

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

--

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

--

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

[rc-writes]

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐟���𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: spencer reid x bau!reader

warnings: reader has a headache due to accidentally missing lunch

a/n: one more little blurb i've written due to my criminal minds rewatch journey! as of now i unfortunately have no other little blurbs written so i don't want you guys to think this is me suddenly being active a lot again. like i said in my penelope blurb i make no promises of me posting regularly again, but i definitely want/hope to write more! anyways, this blurb is completely inspired by me forgetting food exists for half a day a few weeks ago and getting a massive headache due to it :/ advice of the day kids, eating is important! lol

You and JJ had been on reading files duty for the day which meant being held up in the tiny room the local police station had set up for the team. Usually, it was Garcia who was in charge of digging through the files for potential suspects, but the station was severely behind on digitizing their files so manual reading was what had to be done.

As the day went on you began to have the world's most annoying headache. It wasn't too debilitating that you couldn't push through it to get through the last few files however, so you continued your reading. That was until you also began to feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you suddenly.

The most you had done all day was walk from one side of the table to the evidence board across the small room, so you weren't sure why you were suddenly on the verge of nodding off. If you were out conducting interviews or going over the crime scenes like you usually did, then maybe that would explain some tiredness, but that wasn't the case today.

"Hey, we're back!" Spencer's sudden voice filling the room made you jump out of your thoughts.

"Hi." You replied back with a soft smile, trying to mask the tiredness. "We managed to narrow the suspect pool to five people."

"Garcia is already on searching for anything that might not be in any of these files." JJ added from her spot at the table.

"Hard to believe anything is not in all these files." You joked, laughing. Mid-laugh your voice seemed to falter, the headache deciding to grow stronger at the sudden higher noise level of the room. You tried to mask your voice fading by slowly turning to face the board again, trying your best to massage your forehead a little.

"Hey are you alright?" Spencer asked as he walked closer to you.

"Yeah, yeah." You lied, turning to face him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that I noticed your movements seem to be a bit sluggish. Not- not to say that's a problem considering you've been cooped up in here all day. But also, I noticed you're rubbing circles into your forehead which might be a sign of a headache. Which is actually a good thing to do when you have one because researchers say-" Spencer trailed off when he noticed you bringing your hand up again to your forehead. "Sorry, that's not the point. Are you okay?"

"I've been a little tired and have a minor headache. Nothing too bad, don't worry." You admitted, no point in trying to lie anymore. "I'm not sure why though. It's not like I've done much moving around all day, just flipping through piles of paper." You gestured to the table. It was then that you noticed JJ had left you two to be alone. "But I suppose just sitting here all day could be exactly the reason." 

"It is proven that little movement can have just as much effect as too much movement on the body." Spencer agreed. "To add to that, whatever you ate for lunch today could also have an effect as well."

Spencer then began to ramble about the importance of what kind of food you need to eat for which meal, but you didn't hear much as your own thoughts were racing.

A look of slight horror crossed your face. "Oh god, I didn't even realize I skipped lunch completely."

"What?"

"Yeah, I got so caught up in reading over the suspect files that I didn't want to leave when everyone else went to go get something from the break room. Thought I'd wait until I got done reading this one file, but I must have gotten too distracted and completely forgot to ever actually get up."

"Honey, no wonder you're tired and have a headache then." He reached for your hands. "You haven't eaten since we had breakfast together at the hotel." 

You held onto his hands back. "Yeah, and it wasn't exactly a big breakfast either." You both laughed. "I guess a big dinner is in my future then."

Spencer nodded, smiling. His eyes seemed to light up suddenly, you assumed some sort of idea popped into his head. He then immediately headed to the door.

"Where are you going?"

Spencer turned, walking backwards out the room. "To find food! Anything! You need to eat pronto." He bumped into the doorframe before walking completely out the room. From your small frame of vision out the doorway you saw he also nearly bumped into one of the local police officers as he was too focused to notice other people. 

You giggled to yourself at his new sudden mission to find you food. He really would do anything at the drop of a hat for you and you had no idea what you ever did to deserve it. But then you thought about how you'd do the exact same for him and he's said before he didn't deserve someone like you. It truly was a never-ending cycle of caring between you two. 

[junkissed]

can't get you out of my head

member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[yun-fangz]

a little perv!roommate!san +18

like 4 tiny paragraphs but i can't get the image out of my head 😵‍💫. it's also 5am pls don't crucify me for any spelling/formatting issues. 😬

if i wake up and you guys seem to enjoy it, i may write a little something as a continuation 🩷.

roommate!san accidentally coming home while you're masturbating. he watches through the crack of your door as you shamelessly rub your vibrator against your clit, bucking against the dildo you were currently fucking yourself with.

he couldn't help but feel his pants tighten as he heard your quiet pleas and moans. he listened as you grew more and more impatient, the feeling of both toys not enough; he could tell you needed more. he stood there, watching as you moved desperately, eyebrows furrowed as the frustration grew deeper and deeper.

he wishes so desperately he could be the one to help you, to be the one fucking you so good all you could do was beg for more. he could do so much better than that weak ass dildo, he thought to himself, one of his hands snaking down to rid himself of the ache of his hard-on.

san knew this was such a bad thing to do, spying on his roommate while she pleasured herself, but fuck, he thinks this maybe be the hardest he's been in his life. he had to move away soon, before he either can't control himself and storms in, or you catch him watching. that last thought can wait a bit though, he wants to enjoy this a little longer...

© 2024 yun-fangz All Rights Reserved.

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Touch Me, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x afab!reader SMUT

Warnings: MNDI 18+, alcohol, dom!bucky, daddy kink, choking, bondage (handcuffs), oral (m and f receiving), mentions of thigh riding

More Biker!Bucky content here

Notes: Potentially the filthiest thing i've written for public consumption. I am on a writing rampage right now. Biker!Bucky is fueling something in me.

You stared down at the shining ring on your finger. You had done it about a hundred times in the last two hours. All of your friends were at the bar, along with the entire staff of the bar and garage, and all your favorite regulars. Sam made a drink called the "Engagement Gimlet" and you were nearing too drunk too stand. Maybe it was just the mass of muscles that had barely left your side all night and you hadn't had to use your own strength since he asked you to marry him. Maybe you never had since you met him.

"You like it?" Bucky's arm was wrapped around your middle, his tattooed arm in contrast to your white button down. You looked over your shoulder at him. His pink lips were wet with beer from his last sip and you kissed him. You couldn't help it, he looked good enough to eat.

"I love it. I love you," you whispered as you pulled away. His eyes were slow to open as he took a deep breath, the feeling of his chest inhaling and exhaling pressed to your back. The lights in the Howling Commando were adding a delightful neon tinge to the already firework-inducing night.

"I love you too, belle." When his eyes opened all the way they were dark with want, and you bit your bottom lip to stop the string of words you almost used to beg him to leave right now. It was your own engagement party. You couldn't bail early.

"You ready to go soon?" he asked, already finishing his drink, the pint glass small in his big hands. You were fixated on his arms and you had to blink and take a deep breath before nodding.

"Words, honey." His intent eyes on you and the rumble in his voice sent heat right down to your core.

"Yeah, ready to go."

"Finish your drink." You did without question. He had put on the tone he always did at the end of the night. The kind that said, do as I say and you'll get exactly what you want. You already had everything you wanted, and you still wanted more, but Bucky was intoxicating. His bright blue eyes steered you through the bar as you finished, saying goodbye and letting you throw yourself into hugs without taking too long.

The cool air of the late night felt amazing on your skin after being in the bar all evening. It also accentuated the incredible heat between your legs.

"-and congrats again and many times over!" Steve called as the door shut behind Bucky. Your car was parked right next to his bike, but they could stay there overnight. You stood staring up at the full moon and Bucky's hands came over your shoulders, thumbs rubbing at your neck. The little groan of relief you let out sent him into motion, his arm coming around your shoulders, steering you to the right down the sidewalk towards home. The walk was silent, tension building in the quiet air, occasionally intercepted by a plane overhead.

Bucky unlocked the front door, and quickly turned, making a wait motion as he went into the house. You sat down on the cushioned bench you had placed under a trellis across from the front door so you could read outside on the weekends. Read and watch Bucky workout shirtless in the makeshift gym he had built in the second spot in the garage. Your tiny car and his motorcycle took up the other half normally.

You looked down at the diamond sparkling in the moonlight and suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion. You had spent years in an abusive relationship thinking that all you ever wanted was that man, his attention. You spent those years thinking being in love was supposed to be hard, supposed to be sacrifice on the way your house looked, what you did every night, the restaurants you went to, and the friends you kept.

Now you were sitting in the flower filled garden of a cottage you had decorated, sitting on a bench waiting for what you imagined would be an exceptionally sweet surprise from a man who would crawl on his knees after you if he had to. And you didn't even have to feel guilty that he had done all of this and you hadn't done anything in return.

"You okay honey?" Bucky's quiet panic brought your teary eyes to him.

"Yeah." Your nose twitched and you looked down, taking a deep breath before standing up from the bench and looking back at him, more tears rolling down your cheeks.

"I love you so much." Bucky laughed, wrapping one arm around you and the other coming up to wipe away your tears.

"I love you too. I can't wait to spend my whole life with you." His voice was quiet and conspiratorial, but you knew his love for you was anything but a secret.

"This might be the best day of my life, James Barnes." He beamed, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. He still tasted like beer.

"I think I might be able to make it just a little better." The sweet voice was gone, the conspiratorial whisper had turned to a rumbling dark promise. You didn't respond, just took his hand and let him lead you into the house. Battery powered candles were turned on down the hallway, leading you toward the bedroom. More candles were set up there, bathing you both in warm yellow light. In a contrast that only Bucky living in this floral and pink home could be a party to, on the bed were white and purple flower petals and amongst them black handcuffs.

"Making it better?" Bucky asked from behind you, his hands traversing your torso, grazing across your breasts and up to your throat. One hand wrapped lightly around your neck, directing your chin to one side as he pressed hot open mouth kisses to your skin. The other was already at unbuttoning your work slacks.

"Absolutely," you breathed, eyes closing as your head fell back against his shoulder.

"You know, honey," he muttered, his hands moving to unbutton your shirt. You hummed for him to continue, pressing your hips back into his as you slipped the slacks over your thighs and kicked them off.

"I knew the first moment I fucked you that I would have to do it for the rest of my life." Your skin flared ever hotter. The first night you fucked had been loud and messy and drunker than tonight. You had given into every urge you had ignored for years, and Bucky's hand pressed to your throat, the way his tattooed skin looked next to yours when he forced you to watch him fuck you in the mirror, it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to you to that day. And then you got it whenever you wanted it.

"And now I can." Bucky rid you of your bra, his mouth running wet kisses across your shoulders and neck before settling you on your knees amongst the flower petals. He was fully dressed still, but he smirked at you before cuffing your hands in front of you.

"You don't get to lift a single finger tonight." You opened your mouth to rebuttal that you never had to, but his sharp look stilled your tongue.

"If you start running your mouth, belle, I will absolutely blindfold you before I take my clothes off. And I know how much you love to watch me." Bucky had been anything but comfortable in his skin before he met you. Tattoos were to cover extensive scarring on his left arm and the rest had been to make it less obvious. The first time he had noticed you drooling over him, he had felt self conscious. You had fucked that right out of him the same way he did to you.

You nodded in understanding.

"Words, honey."

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." You watched hungrily as Bucky shucked the leather jacket off, exposing his tattooed arms under a brown shirt which was also quickly removed. You couldn't help but press your thighs together as you watched his muscles move, taking off his black jeans down to just dark boxers that hugged his massive thighs. The one time you mentioned how hot you found his legs, Bucky made you straddle one thigh, over a tattoo you particularly loved, and watched you ride it till you came, one hand lazily on your hip. Now you couldn't look at the tattoo without thinking of that moment. And Bucky knew it.

"Still thinking of that moment, huh baby?" Your eyes snapped up to meet his.

"Maybe I'll make you do it again today." You licked your lips, pressing your thighs together harder. He stepped closer to you, till he was looking down at you, hair falling over his forehead into his eyes. He looked dangerous, the hunger in his eyes would have been terrifying if he wasn't all yours. Two fingers under your chin to force your eyes to meet his. You didn't even notice your mouth had fallen open till his tongue slipped against the tip of your tongue.

"You're the hottest thing I've ever seen." His finger pressed to your lips were quickly replaced by his own mouth, tongue invading your mouth as he forced you backward on the bed, nearly tipping you over, but his hand snaked around your waist to keep you upright.

Bucky's knee slipped between your legs and as soon as your covered cunt came into contact with his leg, you moaned into his mouth, unable to stop your hips from rocking against him. One strong arm stopped your movements.

"Uh uh, honey, I intend to devour you entirely before you have to do any work at all." Your cuffed hands were resting on his chest, and he gently slipped his head between them so you could lean up and kiss him as he laid you back on the bed. His weight was all encompassing and put you in a trance as his hands roamed your body and his tongue mapped every inch of your mouth.

He rubbed the heel of his hand against your still clothed core, and you whined, holding yourself from moving your hips again.

"Learning already, belle. So smart." You shivered at the praise, head falling back against the sheets as Bucky's kisses moved down your neck and sternum, leaving marks across your skin till he got to the lacy thong that stood between him and what he really wanted. He made quick work, so quick that they were still wrapped around your left ankle when he got his mouth to your clit.

"Fuck, Bucky I-" His first finger was entirely a surprise, and it was quickly followed by a second. Your first orgasm rolled up just as surprisingly, the slight crook of his fingers and the expertise of his tongue sending you over the edge. You screamed out his name, bucking into his face as he finger fucked you through the end.

"That quick, honey? You must have been aching for me at the bar huh?" You looked down at Bucky, his hair a mess from your hands running through where they could reach and the bottom of his face soaked in you. His wet fingers rested against your thigh and the other hand pushed your cuffed wrists away.

"Always, daddy. Always." Bucky pressed little kisses to your thighs before pushing up to his knees so he could grab your wrists, pulling you up toward the headboard by them and leaving you to push with your legs. Flower petals stuck to your skin as he working the cuffs. You were entirely vulnerable to any onslaught he came at you with. But not entirely unable to retaliate.

As he unclipped the cuffs, you leaned forward and nuzzled against his covered cock where it strained inside his boxers. His abs rolled above your head as he pushed his hips back and you redirected your tongue through the tattoos there, lapping up the light sweat he had already began.

"You're a fucking menace," he huffed, finally getting the clips together behind the headboard and moving back away from you where you could no longer move to him.

"Only for you."

"Oh you will learn to be less of a menace." He sat back, and you looked at the artwork across his chest and mingling with the hair on its way down into his boxers. You were going to be marrying a work of art as much as the hottest man you'd ever seen.

"You only have the rest of our lives to teach me." Bucky was back between your legs right away, fingers and tongue alternating to bring you through another orgasm and close to a third. You whined when he pulled away, grinding against nothing.

"Have you learned your lesson, menace? Or should I keep going till you can't anymore and come all of your tits?" He shot back, slipping his boxers off. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, the scrawled artwork and hair that accentuated the way down. Your moan sounded more like a plea.

"I learned my lesson, daddy, please fuck me." He pretended to think about it as he leaned over to where he had left the condoms. He had flower petals stuck to his chest and thighs.

"Daddy, please I want your cock in my mouth." He stopped mid-action, staring at you already near fucked out, hands above your head. The ring he had placed on your finger a few hours before sparkled in the candlelight. You had never begged for that.

"You sure, belle? You were just begging to be fucked." Your red-lipped pout turned into a shy smile.

"I wanna see it shining when I touch you," you said quickly, feeling the betraying blush across your cheeks. Bucky's sharp blue eyes turned soft and sincere, and he left the condom forgotten on the side of the bed as he quickly undid the cuffs around your wrists.

"Touch me, belle." You pushed him over at the shoulder and he went easily, both of your gazes locked on your left hand wrapping around his cock. To hear what you said was entirely different than the experience, and when you moved your wrist, the light caught it and Bucky moaned.

"I love you, I can't wait to fucking marry you." Your lips slipped over the tip and his head fell back. You put your other hand to work on his balls and your saliva coated everything, your ring still shining in the darkness.

"Belle, you gotta stop, I wanna-mmm fuck, honey." You were slow to stop, but you did, and quickly found yourself on your back, Bucky looming over you again. He was quick with the condom this time, and your eyes rolled closed when he pressed into you. Bucky pulled your leg over his hip, using the leverage to slam into you, his own words getting incomprehensible as he fucked you and you screamed his name.

"Touch yourself, baby, I want to c-" You were already almost there, and as soon as you clenched around him, Bucky came, hard, hips stuttering as you hit your third orgasm of the night. He chanted your name like a prayer as your heat held him in till you were both boneless and panting. It took a few minutes of getting cold and sticky, but Bucky finally found his senses and pulled out, pressing light kisses to your cheeks and nose.

"I love you, James Barnes."

"I love you more, belle. Would you care to join me in a nice hot shower before we talk about how that was the hottest fucking thing over." You giggled, letting him manhandle you to your feet. You pressed yourself to his hot chest, and you stood there for another few minutes, your head to his collarbone and his pressed to your hair.

"I can't wait to marry you. I meant it then and I mean it now."

"I don't think I can wait particularly long," you responded, taking a step back. He was smiling at you like you hung the moon. You certainly looked the same and you followed him into the bathroom.

[penkura]

Our Angel

Summary: Sanji can't believe how lucky he is to have you and this little baby you brought into the world.

Warning: Mentions of giving birth, pregnancy discussion, loving husband Sanji :3

Note: Ahh the final one-shot I have done from the 'knowing' universe! :') I wrote this after the last one, and it's long but also one of my favorites. I love writing Sanji, please let me write more for him.

How much longer? How much longer??

Sanji's anxiety was through the roof as he paced back and forth in front of the infirmary door. You were finally in labor and Chopper and Robin had kicked him out of the room, thinking he was making you more stressed than your contractions were. He could hear them guiding you through the next contraction and telling you to start pushing, and he really, really wanted a cigarette for the first time in months.

He desperately wanted to be in there with you, but didn't want you more stressed than you already were. Sanji believed it couldn't be too much longer, but also wasn't entirely sure. Labor could last hours or even multiple days, yours was progressing quickly though, and it wouldn't be long before you met your baby face to face. Sanji leaned against the door, holding his breath without realizing it, just waiting and listening.

And a few moments later, he finally released his breath when he heard a baby's cries, standing up straight and facing the door, his anxiety finally being taken off his shoulders. He could hear Robin and Chopper congratulating you and telling you that you did amazingly, but he couldn't hear if they said whether you had a boy or girl, or how the baby was doing. The cries though told him that your newborn was doing just well, they were very upset to be in the world now, but it would be all right over time.

After several more minutes of waiting and his anxiety picking up again, Sanji was beyond glad to see the infirmary door open and Robin giving him a smile.

"You can come back in now."

He didn't need to be told twice, quickly entering the room and hurrying to your side, making you laugh when he got to you, dropping to his knees beside your bed and taking your hand before hugging you as close as possible.

"Sanji~"

"I'm so glad you're okay! Both of you!"

Sanji started kissing you all over your face, making you laugh lightly until you both heard a small cry, which made him freeze a bit before looking at your little baby resting comfortably on your chest. Seeing the tears start to well up in his eyes made you smile softly before you looked back at your newborn child.

"What do you think?"

"They're…perfect."

"Isn't she?"

"She?!"

Laughing again you nodded. Through the later months of your pregnancy, Sanji made it clear how badly he wanted and hoped you were having a girl. When your baby first kicked, there was so much excitement between the two of you that he inadvertently called them she, surprising you until you questioned him about it.

"She?"

"...I said they."

"No, Sanji, you said she." You giggled a bit seeing how embarrassed he was at letting his wish for a daughter out like that. "You think we're having a girl?"

"I…hope we are."

You definitely had realized, even before then, that Sanji would be a great girl dad, and now he could prove that to you with your newborn daughter. Just the fact he seemed hesitant to even touch her tiny hand for a second told you he was going to be the most protective dad you'd ever met.

"She looks exactly like you, Sanji."

"She…she really does." Sanji finally reached out and barely brushed your daughter's cheek with his knuckle, which made her move just a bit. She looked like she was his clone almost. The same blonde hair, same curled eyebrows. She basically got nothing from you and everything from your husband, but you didn't really mind it. You might get lucky and she'd get your eye color, but even then it would be all right if not.

She was still your perfect little daughter.

"Can I," Sanji pulled you from your thoughts, nervously biting his lip a bit while looking from your daughter to you, "can I hold her…?"

"Of course!"

Nerves started bubbling up, but Sanji let you show him the best way to hold your daughter. He held her close, keeping one of his hands under her head to give her more support, while she started to whine when she was moved from you to him. You weren't at all surprised when Sanji started to gently hush her, kissing her forehead and softly telling her that she was all right.

"Yeah, it's ok, sweetheart. Daddy's got you, angel."

Your daughter calmed down almost immediately, opening her eyes to try and focus on Sanji, and it nearly took his breath away to see her looking up at him. This was what you two had waited the last nine months for. To finally see and meet your daughter face to face, and here she was! A precious, beautiful little angel that fit perfectly in his arms and looked at him like he was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen (which, granted, she'd really only seen you and Sanji, but it still meant everything to him). You just watched as Sanji stared at her and she stared back at him, before she yawned and snuggled herself more comfortably in his arms, you noticing how his bottom lip was trembling while he watched her fall asleep, kissing her forehead again and whispering how much he loved your sweet little girl.

"[Y/N]...thank you so much for her."

Hearing how strained Sanji's voice was made you smile softly, knowing he was fighting to not start crying. Not right now, he didn't want to wake your daughter or cause her any distress.

"What do you think we should name her?"

"I…I'm not sure, love."

"Well, I have an idea."

+!+

When you had gone into labor, the rest of your crewmates were off the ship. You'd docked at an island the day before and they'd all gone to explore a bit, pick up a few things, and let the log pose reset. You had hoped to go later in the day but obviously things had changed and you wouldn't be joining anyone on this island this time. Robin and Chopper had stayed behind just in case, since you were near your due date anyway and it was a good thing they did.

Once Luffy and the others got back, they were surprised Robin was the only one on the deck of the Sunny waiting for them. Luffy of course was the one to ask, running up to Robin and asking if you were sleeping or something. You'd normally be on the deck waiting for everyone, so it was weird they didn't see you this time.

Robin smiled a bit, "Well I assume she is by now. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl while you all were gone."

Everyone was completely silent, expecting Robin to say she was just kidding to get a rise out of them.

"I'm not joking by the way."

With that statement there were shouts from Usopp, Luffy, and Nami, the latter of the three running for the infirmary right away saying she needed to see her niece. Not even having seen your daughter yet but being happy for you, Franky and Brook were in tears, while Zoro smiled a bit and Jimbei gave a smile and a nod.

"Sounds like the crew has expanded by one then."

Luffy and Usopp were quick to follow after Nami, nearly breaking down the infirmary door asking to see your daughter.

You were actually wide awake, holding your daughter and showing her off to Nami who was cooing softly towards her.

"What a little cutie, yes you are! Aunt Nami is going to buy you lots of cute dresses!"

You laughed a bit while your daughter stared up at Nami, seeming to be completely amazed by her. "You wanna hold her?"

Nami was about to respond when Luffy pushed past her, getting up close to see your daughter. "She's so small!"

"Luffy!" Sanji grabbed your captain by the back of his shirt and started pulling him away. "Get out of her face! You're going to scare her and make her cry!"

"No I'm not!"

"Hey guys."

"Yes you are!" Honestly Sanji trusted Luffy a lot, but he needed to learn boundaries, especially with a newborn baby.

"Nuh-uh! She's gonna think I'm funny!"

"Boys."

"And if she doesn't?!"

"Then…then…I don't know?"

"Idiots!" Nami was close to bashing both their heads in, but her outburst got their attention. "You're both about to make her cry!"

Sanji looked over and saw you gently hushing your daughter who was starting to whine and whimper like she was about to cry, him rushing over by your side to help with quiet, sweet words that he was sorry and didn't mean to be loud.

"My apologies, Angel. I didn't mean to startle you."

Once she calmed back down, you let Usopp and Luffy come over and see her, both of them looking amazed by how small she was. Luffy kept begging to hold her, Nami telling him she had first dibs, and Usopp asking how you both were. Your other crewmates joined you all after a bit, Brook offering to start playing a lullaby to keep your baby girl calm while Franky was crying about how super it was to meet her finally. Robin returned to make sure you weren't getting overwhelmed, and Chopper wanted to do another check on your daughter to be certain she was doing all right. Jimbei gave you his congratulations and said you'd had a beautiful baby, while Zoro mostly stayed to the side, but he did smile just a bit, glad for you to have safely delivered your baby.

You were doing well with everyone there, answering questions and letting each of your crewmates see your daughter up close, they all took turns briefly holding her since they knew that, obviously, they'd have plenty of chances to do so in the future. Once Nami got a hold of her a second time, she refused to let her go to anyone that wasn't you or Sanji. She was going to absolutely spoil your daughter and everyone could see that.

"Hey hey," Luffy latched onto your arm, giving you a big grin, "what'd you guys name her??"

The small bits of chatter quieted hearing Luffy's question, most of your friends looking at you or Sanji for an answer. Nami still had your daughter in her arms, very gently bouncing the sleeping newborn.

You smiled at Sanji with a slight nod, him returning the gesture to speak up.

"We've decided to call her Angel. After calling her that while [Y/N] was pregnant, it…it felt right."

Truthfully you had offered to name her after Sanji's mother, whether you'd had a boy or girl, and he almost took you up on it, but felt that for now, he'd wanted to give your child their own, unique name. He really did greatly appreciate you wanting to honor his mother, but didn't feel ready for that yet. And like he'd said, you two had called your daughter an angel the whole time you were pregnant, actually naming her Angel felt like the right thing to do and you both thought it sounded wonderful when you decided.

"What a sweet name." Robin smiled and nodded, the rest of your crewmates agreeing with her.

After some time Chopper said you needed rest and it was close to dinner time, making Sanji nod.

"I'll go get something started for–"

"Nope!" Shaking her head, Nami handed Angel back to Sanji to stop him. "We'll take care of dinner and bring you guys some; you stay with your wife and daughter, Sanji!"

With a grin she left the infirmary and headed straight for the kitchen, everyone else following shortly after her, once they'd given you another congratulations and said goodnight to their niece. Seeing the shocked look on Sanji’s face made you laugh once everyone else had left.

“...did I just get banned from my own kitchen?”

+!+

The rest of the evening went by smoothly and quietly for your little family. Nami had sent Zoro to bring you and Sanji dinner once it was done, and you were grateful for having so many people to take care of your family while you recovered. Chopper came in a few times to check up on you and Angel, making sure both of you were doing well before he headed off to bed, telling Sanji to come get him if anything happened. After you had dinner and nursed Angel again, you went and took a quick shower, leaving Sanji with your daughter which made him terribly nervous even though he knew it was only going to take you a few minutes to shower. All he did the whole time you were gone was watch her sleep. You'd given her a pacifier to hopefully keep her calm and sleeping, and it did work. Sanji was just so enthralled with her, gently hushing her and stroking her chubby cheek whenever she started to fuss a little.

"Hey it's alright, don't cry. Mommy will be back soon, daddy's got you for now."

When you did get back, you held back a laugh seeing Sanji was nearly asleep while holding Angel. Quietly, you went over and took her from him, waking your sleepy husband and telling him it was just you, you were going to get Angel to bed so you both could sleep. While Sanji followed your lead and went to take a shower himself, you got Angel ready for bed and comfortable in a bassinet near you, she was sleeping soundly and you knew she'd wake at some point in the night, but until then, you'd watch her sleep and hold her little hand, making sure she knew you weren't going anywhere.

"I love you so much, Angel," leaning over, you placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "I'm so glad you're ours."

Once he came back from his own shower, Sanji wasn't even the slightest bit surprised to find you already asleep, still holding your daughter's hand. You'd had quite a day, having pushed a whole new person out into the world, nursing her multiple times, and having to deal with your anxious crewmates for several hours after they got back. It was a wonder you'd stayed awake as long as you had! Sanji knew he was staying with you in the infirmary as long as Chopper made you and Angel stay there, so he did the same as you and kissed your daughter's forehead, before slipping into your bed beside you, bringing you close to him and kissing your cheek once he did.

"I'm so proud of you, [Y/N]. You've been amazing today."

You shifted a bit, making Sanji smile when you told him you loved him before falling back fast asleep.

"I love you too…both of you."

+!+

Your sweet little Angel had grown so much in the last three years. She had ended up with your eye color, which made you beyond happy that she'd gotten something from you. She'd learned to walk, talk, and had the brightest smile and giggles on the Sunny, apart from Luffy that is. She really was an angel to everyone, but especially you and Sanji.

Her first steps weren't really because of you or Sanji, it was Luffy and Usopp trying to get her to start taking a few on her own. She'd been able to walk a slight bit at the time with someone holding her hands, but not on her own yet. You absolutely trusted Usopp and Luffy with her (despite how many times Luffy tossed her into the air and caught her, the fear you felt the first time made you consider leaving), they were helping Angel learn to walk under your watch, you were sitting nearby on a lounger with Sanji, who was slightly nervous watching them. Honestly Sanji was the more nervous parent at times, but you knew he just wanted Angel to be as safe as possible while you all traveled the seas.

"Come onnnnn, you can do it, Angel!" Luffy grinned at her with his arms wide open, while Usopp had a hold of her hands, keeping her standing up. Angel frowned a bit, tears welling up in her eyes when she tried to reach for Luffy but couldn't grab him. He was only a few feet away, he'd easily be able to hurry over and lift her up, but your captain also really wanted to see her take her steps on her own.

"You wanna try, Angel?" Usopp smiled and let go of one of her hands to ruffle her hair a bit, which made her whine slightly. Luffy took two very small steps forward, arms still wide open and grinning.

"You can do it!"

Angel kept reaching her free hand towards Luffy, before she looked at her feet and took a step, looking back at him while she started to walk on her own once Usopp let go of her hand.

Watching your then nine-month-old daughter take her first solo steps caused you to tear up while Sanji was beaming with pride. Angel made it over to Luffy on her own, and once she did, he scooped her up in his arms with loud laughter.

"Yahoo, you did it, Angel!!"

"Good job! Next you'll be running around the ship!"

Angel giggled loudly while Luffy tossed her gently into the air. After the one time he threw her too high up causing you and Sanji to threaten him he'd been more careful, especially seeing how much she enjoyed being tossed up and caught. After that, she started following you and Sanji like a duckling, eventually getting to where she was running around the Sunny, either chasing someone or being chased with loud laughter.

When she said her first word, you weren't even on the ship. You had gone into town with Franky and Jimbei when you landed on an island, checking the place out to see what stores they had and how long it would take the log pose to reset. You'd left Angel on the ship with Sanji, and while he was grateful for the time with your daughter, he was also trying to figure out what groceries he needed to go shopping for the next day. Nami offered to entertain Angel while he checked the pantry and fridge, taking her out to the deck for some sun and to play with her.

"You are just so cuuuuuute! You got your daddy's hair and eyebrows but your mommy's face!"

Angel smiled and giggled a bit at Nami, covering her mouth with her little hands. At this point she was already 18-months-old, but hadn't said her first word just yet. You weren't very concerned, knowing it would happen when it happened, but every evening when the three of you went to your room, Sanji would sit with Angel on your bed and try to get her to say something more than her toddler babbling.

"Come on, sweetheart. Can you say dada?"

Angel babbled, no discernable words coming from her mouth while she smiled and reached at Sanji.

"Then…mama?"

"Mmmm….mmmm…." She pressed her lips together before sticking her tongue out.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't think she's ready yet, Sanji."

Nami had given Angel a coloring book and some crayons to entertain herself, especially once she started talking with Zoro about the money he owed her.

"I'm just saying, if you leave me with a little of your allowance every time we dock, you'll be paid off in no time!"

"How much is a little?"

"Mmm," Nami thought for a second, patting Angel on the head when she smiled at her, "about 300 berries."

"That's a tenth of what you give me!"

"Yeah, and?"

Zoro's eye twitched slightly, obviously annoyed by this. It wasn't his fault all the stuff he normally bought was expensive, or that he spent a decent bit of it on booze!

The two argued a bit more while Angel watched them, giggling a bit when Zoro lifted her up.

"Wait, where are you taking her?!"

"Nap time. Right, tiny cook?"

"Nap!"

Nami and Zoro both stared at Angel in surprise, your daughter yawning a little and sticking her thumb in her mouth.

"Did she just…?"

"She did! Sanji!!"

Hearing Nami yell for him, Sanji dropped what he was doing and ran out to the deck instantly. "What's wrong?!"

"Listen, listen!!" Nami turned back to Angel and Zoro, telling him to say what he did before.

"Hey, it's nap time, right?"

Angel nodded. "Nap!"

Hearing her say an actual word, not toddler babbling, made Sanji's jaw drop and he started to tear up a bit. "Y-Yeah! It's nap time, Angel!"

Honestly it was an odd first word, but when you heard her say it, it made you smile and hug her close, kissing her chubby cheeks and telling her how proud you were. After that, the words came more easily and she quickly realized she knew who mama and dada were, and started calling you and Sanji whenever she needed you. She eventually had nicknames for everyone so she could call them easily, and your crewmates accepted them instantly.

As she got older, turning three more recently, you'd become even more amazed with your daughter and how she was becoming her own person. She was a giggly mess most days, loved fruit over every other food, and took naps almost as often as Zoro. They had become napping buddies much to Sanji's chagrin, but he eventually accepted since Zoro would bring Angel to one of you once she was awake.

Nami made good on her promise to buy Angel lots of cute dresses, your daughter's wardrobe was better than yours. Robin would sit and read with her until she fell asleep most nap times, if Zoro wasn't around at the moment. Usopp and Luffy would play games like tag or hide and seek with her, one of them always having Angel on their shoulders in a team up against the other. Chopper would join them most of the time, or he and Angel would play on the swing or in the kiddy pool together. Franky made Angel new toys constantly, only with your approval did he give them to her. Brook would play whatever song or lullaby Angel wanted to hear, or do his infamous 45 Degrees to make her burst out laughing. Jimbei would tell her (along with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper) various stories he had from before he joined you all, and she loved every one of them.

Despite your love for your crewmates, you had more enjoyed introducing Angel to the Baratie crew over everyone else. After your pregnancy was confirmed, Sanji had given them a call, speaking to Zeff before anyone else and letting him know he was going to, basically, be a grandfather. It became so quiet that you and Sanji both wondered if the connection got severed, before hearing Patty yell asking why Zeff was crying over the transponder snail receiver. It made Sanji tear up worse than when you told him you were definitely pregnant, and he had to give you the receiver to tell the rest of the Baratie crew. When they all heard, they cheered and gave congratulations to you and Sanji, a few of them saying you absolutely had to stop by once the baby had been born. Once Angel was born, you sent over all the pictures you took of her so everyone at Baratie could see her as she grew up. Eventually your ship made it back to the East Blue and the Baratie, around the time of Angel's second birthday, which Zeff demanded you to celebrate there once you arrived. You dressed her in a cute little, frilly pink dress that Nami had gotten her, and knew Sanji was anxious for everyone to meet the both of you properly. Of course, you'd been with the Straw Hats already when you'd been by and recruited Sanji, but things had moved so fast back then that formal introductions were an afterthought. Now that Sanji was back with you as his wife and with his little daughter, it was definitely nerve-wracking for him.

Well, it was until the three of you stepped inside and all the chefs quickly rushed to see Angel, all of them fawning over and doting on her. Almost all his nerves went away as Patty, Carne, and the others tearfully loved on your daughter and introduced themselves to both of you properly. Angel became shy with so many new faces, reaching for Sanji to take her from you which he did, and she hid her face in his shoulder.

"Aww come on little one, what's wrong?"

"She's just overwhelmed. It's too many people at once."

Hearing that, most of the Baratie chefs dissipated in order to let Angel relax again, the only one coming up to the three of you was Zeff himself, bringing back Sanji's nerves.

"Well, the baby eggplant has his own baby eggplant now."

"Watch your mouth with my daughter, crap geezer." The smiles on both their faces told you all was well, this was the norm between Sanji and Chef Zeff. Sanji got Angel's attention to get her to lift her face from his shoulder, pointing her view to Zeff. "This is your grandad, Angel."

Angel blinked a little, not the slightest bit scared and reached for Zeff, knowing it was safe because Sanji said so. Once Zeff had a hold of her, Angel just smiled and giggled, giving him a loose hug. It made him turn away from both of you, confusing you the most, until you heard Carne shout that Zeff was crying again and got to be the first to hold Angel. You laughed when you noticed Sanji had turned away as well, fighting his own tears. The rest of your visit was less tearful, filled more with laughter while everyone entertained Angel and you told all the stories you had of her up until then. You did also learn that Zeff kept every picture you sent of her in his room, a fact that made Sanji happier than you could have imagined.

After your visit back to Baratie, you kept in touch by sending more pictures, even a few letters telling stories of what Angel was learning and how well she was growing.

The last three years had changed so much, you and Sanji couldn't imagine life without your little angel.

"[Y/N], mon amour! Angel, my dearest!!"

"Daddy!!" Angel's bright [e/c] eyes lit up, squealing when Sanji came over to the both of you, providing you with a drink and snack, and Angel with her favorite snack of apple juice and carrots.

"I've got your drinks and snacks for the day!" He gave you both the most loving smile, making you return it and Angel giggled.

"Say thank you daddy!"

"Thank youuu!"

Clutching his heart, Sanji still couldn't believe his luck, even after all this time. Seven years married to you, three years of life as a father. The amount of love he had for you two made it feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest most days.

"Oh, my beautiful girls!! What gods did I please to deserve you?! I love you both so much!!"

You laughed a bit, taking a sip of your fruity water and rubbing your slightly swollen stomach. "What're you gonna do if this one's a boy?"

"Oh, that's easy," Sanji gave you a loving smile while he picked Angel up as she requested, "I'll love him as much as I love you both."

"Have you thought about what I said? For a name?"

Nodding, Sanji sat beside you on the lounger with Angel still in his arms, her grabbing her sippy cup and a baby carrot.

"I have, and I think…I'll take you up on it this time."

Smiling, you gave a slight nod, before kissing his cheek with a hand still on your stomach.

"Sora it is then."

A few months later, you ended up having a little boy with your hair and Sanji's eyes, and Angel was absolutely in love with her baby brother once Sanji introduced him to her. Your crewmates once again were beyond happy for you, and you just couldn't imagine your life turning out any other way.

[secretjeon]

Could you write something for SebastianxF!reader? Maybe later in their 7th year with Sebastian being jealous of all the boys interested in you. Him figuring out his feelings for you and maybe some kissing at the end 😳

ONLY YOU; SEBASTIAN SALLOW

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!reader

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint, some arguing, jealousy, very quick slight suggestiveness, reader is seriously so desired by everyone its not even funny, fluff!!! not proofread!

word count: 1k+

a/n: first time writing for sebastian but it was so much fun im so excited!! for anyone who might want to request I write fluff, angst and smut so there's not really any limits. i don’t know how to write dialogue as a british person in the 1800s, so take it easy on me, but i hope u like it!! 🤍

comments/reblogs/likes are appreciateddd

He didn't know why he was so upset at the sight before him. You were currently sitting in your Defence Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the professor to begin.

It wasn't just you at your table. There were also two boys, whose names you can't remember. They were both bragging about different things to you, one about Quidditch, the other about his amazing skills in Herbology.

It was a painful sight to watch, seeing as Sebastian was sat at the table just behind you. From where he was, he could very obviously tell they were trying to flirt with you. It bothered him deeply, why would these guys ever think they had a chance with you?

Smart, beautiful, perfect you. Things he all believed. Of course, he didn't think anything of it. Why wouldn't he acknowledge how beautiful you were? That was just simple human nature. But that didn't stop him from wondering why he was so bothered by the guys flirting with you.

He hated the thought of them doing anything with you. Talking with you, kissing you, touching you. The thought made his blood boil.

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Sebastian can recall the many times your chats were interrupted by another guy trying to take you on a date. Of course, you said no each time, but it wasn't any less annoying to him. He'd learned to refrain from rolling his eyes at this point, but still silently cursed the lads in his head.

"Alright, everyone! Take a seat." Professor Hecat spoke, allowing the two boys at your table to sit at their respective seats.

"Today, we are going to be doing something a little different. I want you to each partner up with someone, and then I will be explaining the rest." You immediately got up, about to go towards Sebastian when another boy got in your way, Liam, if you can remember correctly.

"Hey, Y/N, wanna partner up?" Sebastian couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. You paused for a moment, trying to find a way to politely reject the boy.

"Erm, sorry... Liam, right? I'm afraid I've already partnered up with Sebastian." The brunette boy lit up at your words, suddenly feeling confident and looking at Liam with a smug face.

The other boy nodded with a tight lip smile, before leaving, defeated. You sat down next to Sebastian, who now had a bright smile on his face. "What are you all smiley about?" You teased.

"Nothing, let's listen for Professor Hecat's instructions, yeah?" Both you and him brushed it off, spending the rest of the class chatting up a storm and doing the assignment.

___

A few days have passed, and it just so happened to be Valentine's Day. You and Sebastian had gone to The Three Broomsticks to drink a butter beer together, as your own 'Galentine's Day', though you weren't sure if you could call it that because Sebastian wasn't a girl, but you were both single so the concept was the same.

You were sipping on your drink, enjoying each other's company when you see a guy who you recognize from your Charms class, someone whose tried to ask you out before, approach you.

"Y/N? It's Patrick, from Charms? I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna get a drink with me." This visibly angered Sebastian, his grip on his glass tightening, knuckles turning white. Before you could speak, Sebastian decided to tell Patrick a few words of his own.

"Don't you see that she's busy with me right now? And I don't know if it's clicked in that noggin of yours, but have you ever considered that maybe she's just not into you?" His voice was slightly raising at this point, but you couldn't help but find it attractive.

Patrick's eyes widened a little before backing up, muttering an apology and walking away. You turned to face Sebastian. "Why did you do that? You didn't even let me get a word in."

"Oh, please, Y/N, didn't you see how he was looking at you? It's like you were a chocolate frog and he was ready to eat you! Trust me, he's not the right guy for you." You quirked an eyebrow at his statement.

"Then who is?" You watched as he hesitated for a moment, before taking a sigh as if to prepare himself, and looked you in the eyes.

"I am," You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say at the sudden confession.

"Y/N, I'm not sure why I didn't come to this realization sooner, but I've fallen for you. Deeply. I mean, we've gone through everything together, and you're just so perfect. You're truly one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and I've never felt this way about anyone be-"

You cut him off by leaning forward and capturing his lips with your own, catching him off guard. He's thrown off at first, but quickly matches your rhythm with his own, your lips fitting together like puzzle pieces, sparks flying everywhere in the room.

The kiss is everything and more. With his mouth still on yours, he grabs your chair, pulling you in closer, before moving his hands to you, one on your face, holding your cheek, the other holding your hand.

You both break apart, breathless with stupid smiles on your faces. "I've been waiting forever for you to say that." You grab his hand with both of yours.

If it was possible, his smile got even wider at your words. "You have?" You nodded, figuring it was time to confess.

"You've given me absolute butterflies since the moment I met you, Sebastian. I had all but hoped that you felt the same way. Why do you think I've always rejected the guys that flirted with me?

It's because it's you. It's only been you." You lean in for another kiss before Sebastian suggests a real date, perfectly fitting the day. The two of you leave The Three Broomsticks, feeling happier than ever before.

[chronicbeans]

Nurse's Office

Needed to write a platonic Alastor x Nurse Reader Angst fic after I saw that fight between him and Adam like holy hell.

TW: Injuries and Blood, Medical Tools/Procedures, Anxiety/Slight Panic, Spiraling Mental Health

So... When you got started at the Hazbin Hotel, you didn't expect to be a nurse there. Sure, you have the skills, but you usually don't have a nurse working a hotel. Now, though, you completely understand why they'd want to hire you for that, and not the room service position you applied for. Over the little time you've been here, you've seen more injuries that you could've ever imagined at a single hotel, with so few guests.

After the fight with the angels, though? You have been working on overdrive. You've had to patch everyone up, and you can't even find Alastor. You keep doing a head count after every person you treat, seeing if you can find him, but he doesn't show up. Your anxiety only gets worse once you check on Vaggie, the last person you had to help, and he still didn't make an appearance.

You don't want to assume the worst, though, so you grab some medical supplies, put them into a bag, then head out into the debris. He has to be somewhere. Even if he's not alive, he still deserves to be found. He also couldn't have gotten far! Yeah, he kind of... disappeared at one point...? You didn't get a good look, but he did disappear from your sight. But you don't suspect he'd have went far from the hotel while injured. Just far enough to be safe. That's what you hope, at least...

You continue wandering around for a few hours, your legs feeling exhausted after a while. Climbing over all the rubble, breathing in some of the settling dust, and straining your eyes to see up ahead is tiring... that, and you keep scraping your hands and knees on the sharp rocks and broken concrete. The most disheartening part, though, is that you still haven't seen him... Then, you spot it.

A tiny little splatter of blood.

Then, another splatter nearby...

And another...

Yes, a trail! You don't know who it's going to lead to, but you can see some lights in the distance. It at least leads somewhere. You quickly begin to follow it, seeing the red light get brighter and brighter. The radio tower comes into view. You know that it has to be Alastor, at this point. Why hadn't you thought of it sooner? You climb down the rubble, beginning to make your way over to the ruined tower ahead of you.

As you get close to the bottom hatch, you hear some footsteps against the floor. Immediately, you knock on the hatch, making your presence known. "Alastor! It's (Y/N)! I'm coming in there! If you're on the door, you better get off. Don't even try to stop me from getting in, either, because I'll climb through one of the windows if I have to." You pause, hearing the footsteps stop for a moment. After a few seconds, you crawl into the radio tower.

The place is a mess, to say the least... which, you expected. You stand up, then immediately scan the room for Alastor. It's a bit dark, and knowing him, he's probably going to try to hide, somehow. He hates being seen as weak, and from all the blood you've seen so far, he's gotten injured. Badly.

"Alastor? I know you're in here. I heard you walking." You walk around the room, checking every corner. Then, you notice an oddly moving shadow, alongside a puddle of blood. You walk over to it, frowning. "I know you're there. Come on. I'm here to help." You sigh as the shadow makes a little grunt noise, much like a deer would. You then cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at it. Looks like you'll have to appeal to his ego a little.

"How do you think people would feel if you, the great Radio Demon, died here alone in the shambles of his radio tower?" The shadow grows quiet as you say this, and before you know it, Alastor appears before you. He looks terrible, holding his stomach with one arm and the broken remains of his microphone in his other hand. You take a step towards him, but he backs away a bit.

"I'm fine, dear... It's nothing I can't handle. Just give me some time to regain my energy, then I-" You shake your head instantly, gesturing to his wound. "No, Alastor! Look at you. You almost died! Sure, maybe you can regenerate, I don't know... but I spent an hour or so looking for you, with the sole intention of helping you! I didn't come here for you to tell me "No, I don't need help, even though I'm severely wounded"! I came here to assist you."

You watch his eyes widen, his already strained grin becoming even more strained. His ears then pull back, the look in his eyes becoming more distressed. He mutters something, before nodding. Then, he leans against the wall, before slowly easing himself to the floor. "Fine, dear. If you truly came all this way, I guess it would be rude if I said no to your help." You are a bit shocked he gave up so easily, as well as how uneasy he looks. You decide to just help him, though.

You crouch next to him, taking out your medical tools from your bag. "You're definitely going to need stitches... my healing magic can only do so much, but it should work better if I close the wound first." You smile gently, before you point to him. "Though, I'm going to have to, at least, unbutton your shirt and coat to do so. Are you comfortable with that? I know you are very iffy about being touched..."

Alastor then begins to show more visible signs of discomfort, his eyebrows furrowing, and a slight static hum droning from somewhere nearby. You pick up on it, beginning to think aloud. "I can try to find some way to maneuver around the fabric, instead, since it was cut open-" "No. No. I trust you, dear." You blink a few times, wondering why he is acting so oddly. "Are you sure...?" "Yes, dear. I know you well enough to trust you." He then pauses, before quickly adding "You're a medical professional, after all. You've probably seen more than an upper torso, before. I trust you to not be a degenerate."

You simply chuckle, nodding. "You better! I'd say we're good friends, after all." You then quickly unbutton the clothing, before grabbing some sterile gloves and disinfectant. As you put the gloves on, you hear him mutter something, once again. Then, when you grab a set of tweezers and a cotton ball, he makes an odd comment. "We're great friends, yes...? If I told you a secret, you'd keep it, right?" You nod as you pick the cotton ball up with the needle, cover it in disinfectant, then begin to disinfectant the wound. "Yeah. You can tell me. It'll probably keep you distracted from any pain you feel, too."

Instead of a hiss of pain, the static noise grows loud for a moment. Then, it quiets down a bit as he talks. "I'm not entirely sure if you know this, already, but I made a deal... My soul is owned by someone else. I regret it more than anything..." You let out a little hum, your expression changing to one of shock. You grab the suture needle, as well as some thread. "Why are you telling me this?"

"(Y/N), my dear... I trust you more than many others. I've seen you working in that nurse's office of yours. You care more than the average sinner about others. Almost to a hilarious degree. I can imagine you patching up a soldier on one side of a battle and sending them out, then immediately do the same with someone from their enemy's side." He then laughs, before coughing a bit. "You care... but don't care when it comes to the right things to interest me. I trust you to not care about this, even if it means you'll keep secrets from me."

You nod, before gently smiling. "I'll keep it a secret... I know others could hold this against you and use it for an advantage. So, I won't say a word. Plus, you're right. I'm a bit of a chaotic middle ground. I don't like taking sides." You then get the needle into position, beginning to actually sew him up. "So, tell me... Is there anything else you're anxious about?"

His ears flick, the static growing once more. Then, it dies down again. "I don't want to be remembered as an altruist... I don't want to be seen as someone who had died for that hotel and his friends. I know that there's probably some people there who believe I died... and knowing Vox, he probably found some way to watch what happened. That man is practically obsessed with me, after all, dear!" He laughs, again, causing you to have to pause your suturing. After a few seconds, he begins coughing more. He sounds genuinely upset, despite his laughing.

"Why wouldn't you like that?" Alastor seems to disregard your question, instead beginning to talk about his deal once more. "There has to be an exit to that deal... a loophole. Something so I can get out of it..." You begin to continue, almost done with your work. "Are you sure...? What was it?" "I'm sure, and it's private matters."

You finish up, thing up the last suture's knot. Then, you take off your gloves, putting on a fresh pair, and grab the bandages. "... Alastor, are you alright...?" He looks to you, his eyes wide. "Why are you asking...? I am perfectly fine. Not a problem here. After I get free from my deal, I'll be-"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Alastor... you're frowning."

Alastor seems to grab at his cheeks for a moment, an odd, anxious grimace spreading across his face. Then, he begins forcing another grin. His tone is a lot more frantic, as if he has begun to spiral. Or, perhaps, just begun to outwardly express that he's spiraling. "I wasn't frowning. I am fine, dear." "You're not fine... but, if you say so, Alastor. I won't push the topic." You bandage his wound, before sighing. "Okay, so... This magic works oddly. You'll be-"

Before you can finish, he begins standing up. "Hey, wait-" He, holds a hand up, shushing you. Then, he points to himself. "I'll take care of the rest. You should handle your own wounds, dear. Don't think I haven't noticed your scrapes and cuts. You look like you've ran through a thornbush on your way over here." He begins buttoning up his shirt and coat, and you're shocked to see it repairing itself as he does so. Clearly, while your friend's power is limited, he's hiding more secrets than you expected...

"Fine... You better not leave me here by myself as I do so, though." You go from a crouching position, to a sitting one, as you clean off your tiny cuts. You hear him go quiet, for a moment, but can't see his expression due to your focus now being on yourself. After a few moments, though, you hear him chuckle.

For the first time, you hear his voice clearly, with no radio waves obscuring it. "Of course, dear. I never would dream of that. The others, though? Maybe..."

[lvlyghost]

Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

-

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

[cherriegyuu]

red | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!readergenre: smutword count: 1.6kwarnings: minors do not interact, kissing, a little bit of dirty talking, swearing, oral (male), masturbation (female), unprotected sex (please wrap it up kids), sort ot public sex, car sexa/n: not entirely sure how this one happened but here we are i guess. this was not how the story was supposed to go, i had different plans and maybe i'll write them later. if you filled the form to be tagged in my fics but was not tagged for this one, it means that you are either a minor or i didn't find your age anywhere in your blog.

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from red (ts)

Seungcheol ➝ Red Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly↳ the sight of seungcheol driving had always been your favorite but when both of you were trying to escape while being chased down by the police, you couldn't help but make things a little more… interesting

“Baby, no, you can’t be serious” Seungcheol complained, his voice a weird mixture of moan and groan as he looked between the road and your hand that was dangerously close to the waist of his jeans. 

He looked at you again, but your eyes were focused on the rear windscreen, a small smile playing on your lips as the cops struggled to follow along. Clearly, the police academy should provide driving lessons, because there was no way those men were actually that bad at driving. 

“It’s going to be fun” you whispered against his skin. 

You pressed your lips over his jawline, right where it connected with his ear, going down his neck, lightly biting into his skin. Your kisses trailed down his neck until his collarbone, where you pressed them over his sweet spot, sucking his skin hard enough to leave a mark. 

You enjoyed knowing that his skin was marked by you.  It was only fair that he too carried marks after leaving a few of them himself all over your body. It had been hard to explain to your sister, ever so naive, how you had gotten those bruises. She saw you as sincere enough, pure enough, to believe that some of it had been due to your clumsy nature. Good thing she never saw the ones right above your panties and the two on your inner thighs. 

“We're going to get caught” 

Seungcheol had always been the first one to throw any sort of caution out the window and he was never one to tell you no. If you wanted something, it was yours. If he didn't have what you wanted, he was sure to get it for you. So when you undid the button of his jeans and slid your hand in, pushing his underwear and pants down just enough to set his semi-hard cock free, Seungcheol didn't complain. 

His words of caution had been a lot more for you than for him. You had been his quiet and shy girl, who sometimes got scared when the cars were too loud. He wasn't certain when that new version of you had come out, but he knew he liked it a lot.

Truth be told, it wasn't really a new version of you, but a you that was only his to see and know about.

“Do you really want Kyle back there to see me choke on your dick?” you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth “Imagine the view he's going to get… my ass in this tiny skirt in the air, you dick in my mouth, my eyes filled with tears because you're too big to fit into my mouth but I want to take you all way”

God, he loved it when your mouth got a little dirty. 

Seungcheol grabbed your hair, pushing your head down into his cock. You smiled, finally happy that he had given it. You loved that he was willing to pull back but also loved that he didn't hesitate to say yes to you sucking him off.

You licked him, from the base to tip. Your hand pumped him once, twice, three times. A fourth one just for good measure, to be certain that he was almost fully hard before you took him into your mouth.

The moan that left Seungcheol's lips caused a wave of tingles to dance through your body, all the way to your core and you couldn’t help but moan too. 

The sounds he made while you sucked him had always turned you on. So to have him driving — probably your favorite thing about him — and moaning for you, while his hand was tangled in your hair, forcing your head down until his dick touched the back of your throat turned you on in ways that you didn't think were possible.

You had never been one for public sex. Not just public, but anywhere near someone else, or where someone else could hear the faintest sound. But with Seungcheol all of your inhibitions had been left behind and he was all that you could see and feel and want.

He went from the hot driver who helped you escape an illegal race, to the hot driver/boyfriend you were sucking off while being chased down by the cops. 

“Balls too” you managed to pull back long enough to say.

You pushed Seuncheol's jeans a little further down, glad he was willing to help by raising him hips just enough. Once all of him was out for you, you leaned over him again. Your hand was on his cock while your mouth was busy a little more down.

He let out a grunt when you grazed him with your teeth, moaning again when you took him again. His hand was back in your hair, maybe it had never even left, guiding you up and down, at the pace he liked the most. As if you didn't know it already, as if you hadn't memorized it.

“I love your mouth, so much,” he said, holding your head down “You take me so well, baby” 

Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes, spit Dripping out and coating all of him. You snaked your free hand into your soaked panties, needing some sort of pressure too. You moaned when the tip of your middle finger grazed your clit, the tiniest bit of stimulation enough to make your head almost spin.

��Are you touching yourself, baby?” whichever incoherent sound left your mouth was enough of confirmation to Seungcheol “I bet you're pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled.  Ready for me”

You moaned again, rubbing your clit a little more desperately than before. If you were going to get Seungcheol to his release, it was only fair that you got some sort of your own too.

Seungcheol looked at the rearview mirror for a second, when he reached the exit he was looking for, opting to get away from the main road. Those cops weren't aware of the alternative road, so you were almost out of any danger — if such a thing had even existed, for a moment at least.

He pulled you up, his hand on your jaw. He loved to turn you into a mess, with tear-stained cheeks and spit all over you. Your hand never left your pussy when he pulled you to him. He kissed you for a second, doing his best to keep the car moving, still on the road.

“Come ride me” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes gleamed and you moved, pulling your skirt up and shoving your panties to the side. Seungcheol pushed his seat back, as far as he could go, to make room for you.

The position was a little awkward but it didn't matter as you angled his tip with your entrance, slowly coming down on him.

A long moan left your lips, until he was all the way inside you. You loved the burning sensation he always gave you, almost as if he was too much, like he wasn't going to fit in you. But he always did.

“How are you even tighter?” he moaned, his mind going blank for a second at the overwhelming feeling of taking you in public, of you riding him, of how your pussy sucked him in in desperation, of taking you bare.

Slowly, like torture, to started to move up and down, as much as you could. You moved your hips up, until he almost completely out and then let yourself fall into him. 

“Cheol” you begged, for what it was uncertain.

You wanted, needed, all of him, all over you.

“Take it, baby, it's yours”

Your moves became frantic, a mixture of bouncing on him, while grinding on him, searching for as much friction as you possibly could. 

Seuncheol moved your hand from his neck to your pussy, pressing your own fingers to open yourself up even further, giving you more room for friction.

“Cheol…” you moaned again, your voice louder as you moved over him “You're so so deep like this”

He no longer could take it. He pulled the car to the side of the road. The police had long been left behind and he had gotten to the point of not caring anymore. You were over him, almost on breaking point. He cared about getting you off, about seeing your eyes roll as your orgasm took over. 

“I got you, baby,” he said while kissing you “I've got you”

Seungcheol held your hips and started to pound into you at a relentless pace. He wanted to chase his high while giving you yours.

You moaned into his shoulder when he pressed a hand to your groin at the same time you started to rub your clit again, matching his pace.

“Cum with me, baby”

His words sent your body into a frenzy, your orgasm taking over as your entire body shook. Seungcheol swallowed all of your incoherent moans and words, his high following yours. He only stopped moving when all that was left was the small spams on your legs.

You leaned your head back when Seunchheol tugged at your hair. He loved that expression on you, when you were completely fucked out and pleased. He liked knowing that he had made it happen.

“Hi” he whispered

You laughed a little, your eyes still closed.

“So sex while the cops chase us turns you on, huh?” he said kissing your neck, enjoying the small goosebumps erupting on your skin “Fully noted”

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[ataraxixia]

hiii can you write abt ratio and sunday w a reader who gets overstimmulated at parties or just hanging out with friends and they get really mean when overstimmulated <3 like how would they help their partner out yk

  ❦  𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. how they help you out when you're overstimulated ❧ tags. Ratio x reader, sunday x reader, fluff, comfort, sfw ❧. a/n. of course, and thank you for your request, love <3 btw i'm not familiar with what it's like to help an overstimulated person so I did some research before writing- I apologize if I wrote something wrong

����𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

"By the Aeons, do you people ever shut up?" you spat to a group of young students, meaner than you intended to, but you couldn't really help it at the moment. The hall was full to the brim- packed with endless members of the Intelligentsia Guild. There were just too many- bragging loudly about their scores of their last exams or simply discussing different subjects with no end. Without saying anything to the students, you quickly walked to one of the corners, covering your ears to shut out the noise. You had difficulties focusing, and the discomfort was creeping up your whole body. You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths and imagining being back home in your cozy and quiet living room. Yet, the constant talking, laughing and arguing made it entirely impossible.

You slumped down the wall, sitting down and resting your head between your legs. You groaned as you shut your eyes, not noticing the person standing beside you.

"―? What are you doing?" they asked. "Why do you care?"

"Because I'm your boyfriend, obviously."

You let out a noise of confusion before you lifted your head and looked to the side, seeing your boyfriend, Veritas, leaning on the wall and focused on you. He crouched down beside you and placed his hand on your forehead, a frown appearing on his face. Your face was pale yet your forehead was quite hot.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier? I would've brought you home." he said, removing his hand. Your gaze shifted to the side, your fingers twitching a little. "I didn't find you. There were a lot of people." it was the truth. From the moment your senses became a bit heated, you looked around, walking from venue to venue to find Ratio, yet it seemed like he just disappeared into thin air.

"I was looking for you as well. Figured out you didn't like it here." Ratio held you by the arms and helped you stand up straight, steadying your body with his from falling down. "Let's go home now." You thanked the Aeons as you nodded, and the two of you made your way to the exit.

"Ah, Dr. Ratio!" one of the members shouted. "I wanted to tell you about the integrals of inverse tri-"

"Your integrals of inverse trigonometric functions exam, in which you barely passed with 71%? I'd rather not. Now excuse me, we're making our leave."

Well that shut him up quickly, you thought.

-

"..." Veritas stayed silent when you were back home. The two of you sat on your shared couch and he massaged your back gently, never pressing anywhere too hard to help you relax. he also made something to drink and some snacks for you, but you simply stayed still as you relished in the massage. It always seemed to calm you down.

"Thanks, I feel better now."

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

"I'm fine, I already told you!"

The other members of The Family looked at you with wide eyes as you snapped at Sunday. He noticed you behaving rather different today and wanted to make sure you were okay, but after asking if you were feeling well- that was your last straw.

You quickly made your way, left through one of the many halls in Dewlight Pavilion and shut the door behind you vehemently. When you weren't hearing any chatter anymore, you relaxed a tiny bit, yet you couldn't stop fidgeting with your fingers, the voices of The Family lingering in your mind, still.

Being the lover of the head of the oak family was no easy matter by itself. Doubt amongst The Family members and the locals of Penacony occurred overnight and the feeling it left you with wasn't pleasant- not at all. Now, a gathering with all members of The Family, where the majority didn't like you and talked behind your back, was too much. You lost your focus at the very beginning already and the meltdown just now was what you needed to actually leave.

You sat down on one of the many couches that were scattered across the Pavilion and took a deep breath, focusing on you, and you only, your head hanging low. You had noticed the Origami Birds on the railings and thanked them in your mind for not chirping- or making any noise at all, actually.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to make you feel angry."

You recognized your lover's voice and sighed, shaking your head softly as you mumbled, "don't. I was just..."

Sunday sat beside you and draped a blanket over your shoulders. A weighted one, you noticed. He took your hand in his softly as he traced some circles on the back of your hand, the gesture making you actually quite calmer.

You focused on his hands and let relief wash over you with time- it must have been at least 10 minutes since he arrived and yet, he didn't stop, nor did he say anything in the time. You smiled to yourself as you felt your mind becoming clearer, shifting your gaze from your hand to his face.

"Thanks, I... really needed that." you said and he shared your glance, a small smile plastered on his lips again. "Just tell me if you need more time to relax. I'll give you all the time you need."

[finelinefae]

everything with you

synopsis: a simple, true kind of love

word count: 7.1k

contains: fluff, angst, cancer, brief mentions of sexual assault, allusions to domestic violence and a toxic relationship, normal people/one day vibes, boyfriend harry

a/n: posting this here because i love it so much and i was feeling emo. also have been away for a week so haven't had much time to finish writing things I'm still working on (there will be a soft girl sunday post tomorrow don't worry and i am also working on a tattoo h blurb as well !!)

. . .

October 1st 2017

Harry and Y/N met during freshers week at University in 2017. 

"Should we make out?" 

They were standing in a closet now after meeting just ten minutes ago downstairs. 

"M' names Harry," Harry spoke, sitting on the couch and looking down at his first drink of the night. He wasn't much of a drinker but also feared missing out or being seen as unordinary - at university, drinking felt like it was deemed ordinary. 

Y/N blushed, her cheeks pink from the humidity in the room and the fact that a guy was talking to her. She pulled down the sleeves of her dress to hide her shaky hands. She noticed she stuck out like a sore thumb with how she decided to dress, her long sleeves and knee-length skirt juxtaposed with every other girl in the room. 

"'M Y/N." She responded. Harry nodded, sheepish and awkward as he tried to think about something to say. 

They were sitting side by side, looking out at the other people dancing to the music that echoed through the house. "What do you study?" Y/N managed to ask and cringed at the question. Was it normal to talk about school at a house party?

"Music." He nodded as Y/N tried to think up another question despite already asking one. "What about you?"

"English." She said and an awkward silence fell between them. 

Harry eventually turned to look at her, lips parting at the natural beauty even just from looking at her side profile. Her hair was in waves that fell down her back and he thought her dress was pretty too. She had a tiny bump on the bridge of her nose that led to her plump, cherry red lips. 

She felt his gaze on him and turned her head, catching his eyes and looking down from embarrassment. He was beautiful like a living, breathing adonis. His eyes were a sea glass green and he had chestnut brown curls on his head. 

"It's a little loud in here don't you think?" Harry spoke, his voice seemed closer to her now. 

Y/N looked up and looked around at the crowd of people, "Just a little." She said, 

"Do you want to go upstairs?" He wondered if maybe it would be easier to get to know her in a quieter setting.

Y/N followed him upstairs, wondering whether he knew where they were going and if he knew anyone else at the party. She had only just met him and despite his awkwardness, her trust issues were too much for her to just relax around him. 

He opened the door and pulled her inside, "Um...Harry?"

He nodded, already guessing what she was about to say and looking down at her, "We're in a closet." He stated. 

"Yeah." She whispered, her heart racing at the close proximity. 

"I don't live here." He tried to hide his embarrassment. 

Suddenly, Y/N burst out laughing, the entire situation was something she didn't see coming and she couldn't help but laugh at the predicament. It wasn't too long before Harry began to laugh along with her, the both of them standing in the closet in hysterics. 

When their laughter quietened down, Harry looked down at Y/N. His demeanor changed as he admired her as she bit back a smile. "Should we make out?" 

Her lips parted, "U-Um-I-I've never been kissed before."

"Me neither." He murmured, he wasn't even sure why he asked, he just felt like it was something he should be doing being at a freshers party. 

Y/N thought about it for a second, she gulped down her nerves and looked at his lips before looking at him again. "O-okay." She nodded. 

She'd never been kissed but neither had he, so neither of them could complain it was a bad kiss. She thought it'd be better to kiss him now to get the firsts out of the way. 

"Okay." He released a shaky breath and slowly leaned forward. 

Y/N stood on her toes the closer he got to her, their breaths echoed around the room as their hearts raced at the same time. The tension was thick as their lips were closer to touching. It seemed strange that the first person to touch her lips was a man she had met just ten minutes ago. 

Harry reached for her hand, brushing his fingers against them and feeling how soft her skin was. Her eyes fluttered shut when he felt his fingers run up her arm, a path of goosebumps arising. Her nose rubbed against his and her eyes fluttered shut when his fingertips touched her waist. 

She had the urge to press a kiss to his jawline as his fingers danced across the skin on her arm, "Harry," She whispered, her head resting on his shoulder. 

 Everything she was feeling right now was exactly how she thought she'd feel if someone kissed her and yet their lips hadn't even touched yet.

His lips brushed against hers and eventually, she leapt up into his arms and pressed her lips to his, arms wrapping around his neck. She whimpered at the sensation of his tongue tangled with hers, her entire body felt as though it was on fire as he continued to touch her. She tugged on his hair like her hands had a mind of their own and he released a guttural groan which made her tummy flutter with excitement. 

If they were to continue, she was curious to see where things would go next but her curiosity was killed when the door opened and they pulled away from each other. 

"My bad." Someone chuckled and closed the door again. 

Harry was breathing erratically, looking down at the floor as his mind whirred. 

"I should go." Y/N was the first to talk and before he could even reply, she opened the door and left. 

February 20th 2018

Harry was late for class but he was in no rush to get there. In fact, he hoped the seminar would be over by the time he got there so he didn't have to answer any questions. He hated talking in front of people. 

He decided to take a longer walk to his seminar, going in a direction he had never gone before and hoped he would get lost along the way. 

As he pulled out his phone to change the song he was listening to, he ended up bumping into someone else. "I-I'm sorry," He immediately crouched down and picked up the books on the floor.

"I-It's fine, don't worry about it." A delicate hand touched his as they reached for the same book. 

His head perked up when he registered who the person was, the voice was the last thing he heard before he went to sleep every night. "Y/N?" He spoke before he could stop himself. 

She looked up at him, he noticed she looked different to when he had first met her. The light in her eyes looked dimmer and she seemed more on edge than when he had first met her. 

"Harry?" She smiled, standing up. 

"It's good to see you." Flashes of their first kiss came to mind and he quickly brushed them away. 

"How's the first year treating you so far?" She tucked her hair behind her ear. 

"It's been... good." He was lying but he wouldn't tell her that, not when he felt the need to impress her. 

"Oh I'm glad, we should-"

"Y/N!" Y/N stilled, her head turning to look past Harry's shoulder. Her sudden change in expression made him turn to see the person who had caused it. 

A man stood waving his hand in the air in the distance, he looked slightly older than both Harry and Y/N. "Who's that?" Harry looked at Y/N.

"T-That's Shaun." She muttered, holding her books tightly to her chest. 

"Is he your boyfriend?" He hated how the question tasted when he asked it but wanted to know. 

"Yes." She said, his heart was hurting but he tried his best not to show it. "I should get going."

She walked past him but he called her name before she managed to get away, "Here," He took out a pen and wrote on the front of the page of her notepad his number, "In case you need me."

She smiled but it didn't meet her eyes, "Thank you." 

He watched her as she walked away and didn't start to walk again until she walked around the corner. 

He couldn't help the gut feeling that was definitely going to need his number whether she wanted it or not.

May 15th 2018

Harry had finished his last music exam and stood in his dorm room, packing his room up since his mother would be picking him up tomorrow afternoon for the summer. 

He knew other people were out partying and enjoying the fact that the first year was over but he was too keen to get home. University hadn't treated him nicely and that was just the way it was for him. 

He hadn't made many friends besides a few in his music class, even then he wouldn't really consider them friends, mostly just people he spoke to now and then. He hadn't been to a party since the first week of freshers nor did he really want to. 

"Fuck." He murmured to himself when he could hear the vibrations of his phone ringing. He rummaged through the piles of items he had created whilst packing and eventually found his phone under a pile of clothes. 

The number was unknown but he picked it up anyway. 

"Hello?" He frowned, waiting for a response from the unknown caller. 

"H-Harry?" He stood straight and held his breath when the voice he hadn't heard in a while was talking to him on the phone. "I-It's Y/N."

I know. That was what he wanted to say but instead waited for her to carry on speaking. He wasn't sure as to why she was calling him now since he had given her his number three months ago. He spent the first few days waiting for a call from her but was always let down. 

"U-Um, I know we haven't spoken in a while b-but I really need you to come g-get me." She was on the verge of tears as she held the phone to her ear, waiting for him to say something.

Harry cleared his throat, "Are you okay?" He asked, concern in his voice as he walked to the door. 

He waited for a response, "No." She sobbed, "I'm at a party outside campus on Melville Street and I don't know anyone else." 

He stumbled over his belongings as he pulled his shoes on and tugged on his jacket. "Hey, don't worry. I'm on my way and I promise I'll be there in five minutes." 

"O-Okay," She whimpered, "Thank you...Harry." 

He ended the call and raced down the steps to the front door, running out and making his way to Melville Street where he knew all the parties were held throughout the year. He could already see a mass of people at one particular house at the end of the road and could only assume it was the house Y/N had called him from. 

He pushed his way past the other students, apologising as he did so but making no effort to stop himself from getting to Y/N. He ran up the stairs and opened the door to each room, ignoring the screeching from teenagers making out and wanting him to leave. 

Eventually, he got to the end of the hallway and faced a closet door. He slowly put his ear to the door and heard the sniffles and cries of someone behind it. Carefully, he pulled the door open and looked down to see Y/N, crying into her knees as she curled up into herself. 

He closed the door behind him and crouched down in front of her, "Hey," He whispered, not wanting to frighten her. 

She looked up, cheeks tear stained and makeup smothered which she tried to wipe away with the back of her hand. "You're here." She whimpered and wasted no time in leaping forward and wrapping her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. 

This was the last thing he was expecting to happen tonight but he didn't stop from holding her tightly in an attempt to squeeze the pain out of her. Sometimes people just wanted a hug and he just so happened to be the only person who could give that to her right now. 

"What happened Y/N?" He looked her in the eye and was brought back to the first time they were in a closet together. He wished he could go back to that time or at least be with her now under different circumstances. 

"It's nothing." She wiped away her tears as best as she could. 

"I don't think you would have called me of all people if it were nothing." He cupped the side of her cheek and noticed a bruise under her eye. His heart fell out of his chest when the worst-case scenario came to mind, "D-did Shaun do this to you?"

He didn't need an answer from her because the look on her face was clear enough to tell that he was right. Y/N began sobbing all over again, "How long Y/N?" Harry asked, firmly. 

She didn't answer, "Y/N, how long?" 

"Since February," She confessed in a whisper and hid herself away from him. 

Harry felt an incredible urge to walk out to find Shaun and release every ounce of his rage onto him but he also knew that wouldn't do anything to help Y/N at this moment. So he took a deep breath and placed a gentle hand on Y/N's shoulder. 

She looked up with wide, teary eyes and tried to crack a smile, "Let's get you out of here." 

She laughed breathily, "What? You don't like being in a closet with me anymore?"

He couldn't seem to find it in himself to laugh with her, "Not when you're like this Y/N."

She loved the way his voice sounded, she had been thinking about it ever since she first kissed him in the closet. Maybe that's why Shaun treated her like he did because she was lying in bed with him and dreaming about someone else. 

Harry walked out of the house with Y/N under his arm, shielding her away from the party. "Do you have anyone who can pick you up from your dorm?"

Y/N looked down at her shoes, embarrassment filling her, "I-I moved in with Shaun, he didn't want me living with the other girls and he's in his second year so..."

"Fuck." Harry said, eyes wide. 

"Yeah," She laughed, pitifully. "Feel free to name me an idiot for the next few hours."

Harry sighs, "I'd never call you that Y/N. Sometimes we make mistakes when we're cast out into loneliness by others." 

They carried on walking in silence. Y/N wasn't sure where they were going until they got to Harry's accommodation. "We'll have to sleep here for the night." 

"A-Are you sure?" Y/N was nervous, wringing her hands together. 

He didn't reply as he led her upstairs to his dorm where he knew everyone else was out getting drunk. She stepped into his room and was surprised to see the piles on the floor. It was amusing and sad to see. Each pile seemed to represent a different part of him, parts she knew nothing about, and yet he was the first person she thought about calling when she was in trouble. It felt like a cruel trick, she relied heavily upon strangers to lift her up because it was easier than being seen as weak by the people she deemed most important. 

"I've been packing, m' mum's picking me up tomorrow. It's a bit of a mess." He begins picking up things from the floor, underwear and pages of sheet music. 

"You play guitar?" She was still standing by the door.

"A bit, piano mostly." She notices the keyboard at his desk. 

"You can take the bed, I don't mind sleeping on the floor." He stands, not sure how to act with a girl in the room, especially a girl he thought about before he went to sleep.

"Why can't we both sleep on the bed?" She wondered, kicking her shoes off. 

"Y-Yeah," Harry gulped, "W-Whatever makes you comfortable." 

Y/N and Harry sat side by side on the bed and were immediately brought back to their first interaction. Except this time they didn't have the noise of the party to fill the awkward silence. 

"He didn't rape me, Harry." She whispers out of nowhere, she was crying again and he hated it. 

"I never thought he did." He lied, he did think that.

"I-I'm not that desperate." 

"I never said you were." 

"Shaun was good to me and then... I've never been in a relationship before. I didn't know how it was supposed to go." She confessed.

"I know," He knew she needed to talk about it but he also knew she didn't particularly want to. 

"Right." The sheets ruffled beside him and he looked over to see her lying on the bed with her back facing him. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried into his pillow.

Harry didn't know what to do. He wasn't good at comforting people or talking to people or being around people but he couldn't live with himself if he just sat there and watched her cry. He twisted his body and placed a hand on her shoulder. He noticed her flinch slightly but in a blink of an eye, she turned around and buried her face into his stomach, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shirt. 

Harry did nothing as he ran his fingers through her hair and just let her cry for the next hour. 

"Harry," Y/N whispered in the dark, the both of them lying side by side flat on their backs. 

"Yeah." He whispered back.

"I wish I didn't leave the first time." Her confession surprised him. He thought he was the only one who thought about their kiss daily. He often thought how they'd be today if she were to have stayed. 

"Me too." He said and felt her pinkie hook around his. 

They fell asleep after that. 

June 20th 2018

It was summer and Harry was in Italy with his family. 

"Harry! Lunch is ready." His mother called from the patio as he sat in a hammock with his guitar. 

He lugged himself out of the hammock and felt a vibration in his back pocket. 

Y/N: I hope you're having a good time x

He bit back a smile, feeling giddy with the fact that she had messaged him in the middle of the day even though they'd been texting on and off since the summer began. 

Harry: Yeah it's been alright, too hot for my liking.

He held his breath as the dots began to appear as she typed out a reply.  

Y/N: Why am I not surprised? x

Harry: I've been working on a few songs whilst I'm out here though

Y/N: I look forward to being the first to hear them x 

Y/N smiled as she looked down at her phone whilst she sat in the back room on her break from working at the supermarket. He had told her once he'd never played a song before to anyone, not even his mother. She asked him if he'd ever play something to her and he immediately replied with three letters. 'Yes'. 

Y/N worked for the rest of the day and finished her shift at three thirty. She had to pick up a few things before she went back to her house where she was living with her mother and grandmother. 

She went to check the time on her phone but ended up seeing a message from Harry. 

A gasp escaped her lips when she noticed it was a voice note. It was a long time since she had heard Harry's voice. 

She reached into her bag for her headphones and pulled out the tangled mess. Suddenly a crackling sound and the heavy rain pouring in the background began to play. She waited until she could hear the gentle strum of a guitar and Harry's voice flooding her ears as he began to sing. 

There was something so comforting about his voice and a part of her felt ignited by the pure vulnerability in his voice as he sang. "Sorry, okay bye." He mumbled at the end of the voice note. 

She laughed and immediately began to type out a message. 

Y/N: It's beautiful. 

Harry: I miss you Y/N.

Her heart stuttered from the simple text message. 

Y/N: I miss you too Harry. 

July 20th 2018

"Here let me take that for you." Harry grabbed her bag and slung it over his shoulder, "I'll show you up to your room.”

"It's...big." Y/N looked at the home Harry had in Italy with his family. 

He chuckled, "You could say that."

He was in awe that she was here with him in Italy. He had invited her out when she told him she'd never been abroad before despite having a passport. After asking his mother, he bought her a cheap flight over to the Amalfi Coast and set up the guest bedroom, buying her candles and things from the nearest grocery shop.

"Do you love her?" Anne smirked whilst she stood at the door with her arms crossed, watching her son put face masks into what would be Y/N's bathroom drawer.

"No," He shakes his head. "No, I don't." 

"Okay." She said but wasn't assured by his answer.

Harry placed her bags on the double bed and gave her time to take in the house. "Is your mum home?" She wondered. 

"No, she and Astrid went to the market," Harry said.

"I can see the sea." She looked past him, out the window. 

"That's funny, since you arrived all I can see is you." He whispers, looking into her eyes. She didn't have to tell him she agreed because he already knew. 

Things between them had changed over the last month and they both knew it. Since Harry sent the song over to her, things between them were different. They spent the majority of their nights sleeping late and having deep conversations over the phone. Harry now knew more about her than anyone ever did and she knew even more about him. 

They hadn't kissed since the night they first met and Harry would be lying if he said he didn't think about it still. 

"Harry, come down and help us with the groceries!" His mother called from the kitchen. 

Y/N followed Harry down the steps where his mother and sister were. "Harry!" Astrid squealed, the six year old leaping into his arms. 

"Hey, Astrid." He smiles, putting her down afterwards and walking over to his mother. 

"Oh goodness, you must be Y/N! Harry has told us so much about you." Anne grins and goes over to hug Y/N. 

"It's nice to meet you," Y/N spoke, shyly. 

"Hi," Astrid grinned, one of her teeth missing. 

"Hi Astrid, it's nice to meet you." Y/N grinned. 

"You're pretty." Astrid hides behind Harry as she speaks. 

Harry and Anne laugh, "Why don't you take Y/N down to our beach? It's a wonderful day outside." 

"Sure," Harry nodded, putting the milk in the fridge. 

Harry led Y/N back to her room so she could get dressed into her bathing suit. "You don't have to come with us if you don't want to. You're probably tired."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Y/N asked, pulling out her swimsuit from her backpack.

"I want you to be everywhere." He smiles softly. 

She bites back a grin, "Give me a second." 

Harry walks back in once he puts his swim shorts on and halts his movements when he notices Y/N standing in front of the mirror putting suncream on. Her hair was tied back and she had removed her makeup from her face. She was wearing a black, one piece swimming costume. He could see the curve of her hips and her breasts and watched as she applied sun cream to her bare arms and legs. He didn't want to stare too long but he couldn't help but revel in the beauty of her. 

"I'm ready." She smiles, covering her body with a towel. 

"Cool." Harry gulps. 

. . .

"It's cold." Y/N shivers when she walks further into the ocean. 

"It feels good." Harry smiles, walking out into the sea. 

They stood facing each other in the middle of the ocean. "Your family seems nice,"

"They're alright," He couldn't stop looking at her. 

I really want to kiss you right now. He thought but tried to contain himself.

"Have you written any more songs?" She asks. 

"A few, I was inspired you could say."

"By who?" She wonders. 

Before he could reply, a wave knocked into them both. Y/N lost her balance and slipped underwater but Harry just managed to grab her waist and hold her before she was able to drift away. 

They both started laughing, Harry's hands were on her waist the entire time as they smiled at each other. 

"Are you going to kiss me?" Y/N wonders, Harry's breath catching in his throat, "At the party you had the same look in your eye when we were in the closet."

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks.

"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She says. 

He scoffs, smiling, "You can't say that you know." 

"Why not?" She bites her lip.

"Because then I'll just have to kiss you all the time." 

"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She whispers again this time in his ear, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. 

Harry shakily exhaled and leaned his head forward. He had thought of this moment for months since the first time they met and he didn't think it would happen for a while. Y/N had told him all the things Shaun had done to her during their short relationship and he knew it would affect her for a while once they had broken up. 

She kissed his shoulder, the saltiness of the water on the tip of her tongue, before she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. 

Harry whimpered like he had been in desperate need of her this whole time and he was finally getting what he wanted. His hands were everywhere as he tried to hold her in the ocean, she pushed his wet hair back and cupped his cheeks. 

"Y/N," He whispered over and over again, "I'd never be like him, I hope you know that."

She said nothing, just smiled and kissed him again and again and again and again. 

August 3rd 2018

"Do you think I'm a good writer?" Y/N asked, her bare chest pressed against Harry's as she finally caught her breath from opening up to him in a way only he was allowed to see. 

"I think you're a wonderful writer." He hums, releasing her hair from her messy ponytail so he could massage her scalp with his fingertips.

"Really?" She smiled up at him, he felt a tight feeling in his stomach at the sight of it.

"Yes." He kissed her sweaty forehead.

"I think you'd be a good musician." She played with his fingers. 

"Thank you." He wasn't sure what to say besides that. He knew she had faith in him, sometimes too much. 

"Harry," She started. She moved to sit up, she was naked and slouched over but it didn't phase him one bit, he liked seeing her naked, it was possibly one of his favourite things. "Y' know you're my best friend right?"

"I know that," He nods. "You tell me every day."

"I think I might be in love with you." She confesses, a sigh of relief escaping her.

"I know I'm in love with you." He admits, he'd never told anyone he loved them besides his mother and sister but with Y/N it felt different. He felt as though he was opening a part of himself that had always been locked and only she knew how to open it.

"So we love each other?" She crawls over to him, falling beside him and lying on her back, her head lolling to the side to look at him. 

His hand goes to her tummy and he rubs his thumb up and down, "We love each other." His hand slowly creeps lower. 

"Can we have sex again?" She asks, biting her lip.

He loved the way her cheeks flushed when she spoke about doing intimate things with her. Her eyes would turn a darker shade and the hairs on her arms would stand on end. 

"Y'never have to ask." He murmured and kissed her everywhere.

January 30th 2022

Harry and Y/N moved in together when they graduated. It was an easy decision and they didn't regret it one bit. 

"Morning baby," Harry hummed, kissing her shoulder and handing her a mug of coffee. She was wearing a shawl and a lace bra with his boxer shorts and he made sure to take a mental picture of her right this moment. 

"Morning handsome." She whispered, tired and achy from being at her computer for a second day in a row. 

Y/N was a writer or at least trying to be one. She was currently signed to a literary agent and was attempting to get a book published. She'd been spending the last few days going through the edits she'd been sent from her first draft. 

He placed two hands on her shoulders and rubbed his thumbs into them, massaging her shoulders and easing some of the tension. "I'm going to the studio today, wrote a few songs last night." 

"You did?" She grinned, her head turning to look up at him, "Will I get to hear them first?" 

"You know you will. You always get to listen to them first you know that." He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her. 

He rubbed his thumbs under her tired eyes as he cupped her cheeks, "Get some sleep darling, please." 

"Can I have a kiss first?" She pouts, her eyes gazing up at him.

He snickered and kissed her the same way he did when he first met her, leaving her in a daze as he left her in the kitchen and walked out of the house to get to the studio. 

"I think I want to marry her," Harry spoke aloud, his friend Mitch turning to him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I want to marry her." 

"Good for you, man. She's good for you." He gives him a friendly pat on the back. 

Harry drove home with a memory stick sitting in the passenger seat of his car. He also had an engagement ring in his back pocket that he picked up on his way home. It was cheap and fake, costing him just thirty pounds, but he planned on buying her a new one when he sold some of his demos to other artists. 

When he walked through the door, he noticed Y/N was no longer at her computer. He walked into the lounge and saw her passed out on the sofa, a loaf of bread was on the coffee table with a tub of butter and a knife stuck into it. 

He sat down beside her, and she stirred. "Hi baby," He stroked her hair out of her face.

"You're home." She hummed, grabbing his hand and holding it to her chest with her eyes still shut.

"Come to bed, my love." He keeps his voice down when he speaks to her. 

"But I want to hear your music." Sleep weighed heavy in her voice. 

"Y' can hear it tomorrow darling, let's go to bed." He picks her up and cradles her in his arms as he carries her up the stairs. 

"Love you," She whispers as he lays her in bed and covers her in the blanket. 

"Love you too." He grins, lazily and crawls into bed next to her, holding her tightly. 

September 16th 2024

He's never felt pain like this.

"Where is she?" He gripped onto her mother's shoulders, looking at her with pleading eyes. 

He had rushed to the hospital, cancelling his show last minute since he was touring with the band he had written songs for. They invited him at the last minute to be the opening act for their show and he accepted despite his homesickness and desire to stay with Y/N.

"Mr Styles?" A nurse approaches with a doctor beside her. 

"Is she okay? What's going on?" He was tired before he got the phone call but now he was wide awake and wasn't planning on getting sleep anytime soon. 

"Mr Styles, we're going to need you to take a seat." The Doctor places a hand on his shoulder but he brushes it off, growing frustrated. 

"Please, just tell me what's going on." 

A sigh leaves the doctor's lips, "Miss Y/L/N has had to have emergency brain surgery."

"W-What?" He froze, unsure how to process it all.

"We found a tumour in her brain that we've had to remove, the cancer is still there but-"

He blocked out the doctor's words after that, all he seemed to hear were the words 'surgery' and 'cancer'. Y/N had cancer. 

"C-Can I see her?" He had tears rolling down his cheeks. 

"She's asleep but you can go in and see her." The Doctor nods and turns to the nurse, giving her instructions. 

Everything blurred and moved in slow motion as he walked down the corridors to Y/N's room. He couldn't believe what was happening and whether or not it was real but the pain coursing through him was enough to tell him that his life had taken a turn for the worst. 

"We'll leave you alone." The nurse nods. 

Harry saw Y/N lying in the hospital bed with wires coming out of her and a bandage wrapped around her head. 

"No baby." He shook his head, "No, no, no." He walked forward and fell to his knees in front of her. 

He gripped her hand and squeezed tight, sobbing as he tried to think up ways to help her, to trade places, to take all the pain she was feeling and consume it himself. 

"You'll be fine," He whispered, kissing her cheek, "You'll be okay." All the while twisting the cheap engagement ring he had given to her before he left to tour. 

It wasn't the most extravagant engagement but it was perfect for them. Harry had taken Y/N camping for the first time but they soon realised they both hated it. It didn't help that it was pouring with rain and the tent had a hole in it. 

So, they ditched the tent and bought a cheap motel room. They had dinner at a restaurant opposite the petrol station where the food wasn't too good but they had to beat soft serve ice cream. 

Harry asked the question after they had sex in their motel room. A tangled, sweaty mess and in a haze, he just blurted out the question to which she immediately said yes and broke down crying because she loved him so much.

Later on, Y/N woke up in the evening with Harry sitting awake beside her. 

"H-Harry," She mumbled, her eyes fluttering open and close. She was very tired. 

"Hey darling," He crouched down in front of her so he was eye level with her, "M right here."

His voice always soothed her, since the very first day they met, "I'm sick aren't I?" She tears up. 

He slowly nods his head, "But you'll get better."

She wasn't so sure.

December 1st 2024

"Can we go to Italy to get married?" Y/N asked, sitting at the windowsill with a book. She was wearing a headscarf over her hairless head as the sun shone through the window. 

Harry thought she looked beautiful.

"I thought you wanted to get married here at home?" He wondered, they both wanted something simple so planned their wedding reception to be at their house in the back garden. 

She placed her book down and stood up on shaky legs. She was getting thinner the more they did chemotherapy, sometimes she could barely hold her head up from exhaustion but she was fighting her way through it all. 

She climbed onto Harry's lap who was sitting at the table writing music. "I want to go to Italy for Christmas and get married."

Harry chuckles, "I don't think people will be happy if we do all that last minute, it'll cost a lot too." 

She shakes her head, a cheeky grin on her face, "I just want it to be us two." 

He thought about it. He knew how much their families meant to the both of them and how important it was for them to be there but he couldn't lie if he said the thought didn't tempt him.

 "What about our parents?" He asked.

"Well I assume they'd be upset for a while but they'll get over it. We can have a party in the back garden just like we originally planned." She snaked her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, he could tell she was getting tired. 

"When would you want to leave for Italy?" He wonders and she knew she had persuaded him. 

"Tomorrow." 

December 3rd 2024

They got married where they kissed on the beach. 

Y/N was rushed to the hospital in the evening. 

May 22nd 2025

Harry was alone. 

He stood in front of the mirror adjusting his tie and tried his best not to get emotional. 

He hadn't seen her in a while but he hoped she was giving him some reassurance wherever she was.

"My boy," Anne walked in, wearing a sleek dress, "You look so handsome." 

She adjusted the lapels of his suit and cupped his cheeks, a bittersweet look on her face, "They're waiting for you." 

He nodded, glanced one last time at the mirror and exhaled. 

People were already standing in the pews of the church, some were already crying as he walked to the end of the aisle. He turned around and took a heavy breath, his hands shaky. 

"You've got this," Mitch whispered, reassuringly. 

Suddenly everyone stood up as the music began to play, waiting for the love of his life to turn the corner. 

Y/N beat cancer on Harry's birthday this year. 

He cried tears of joy and they celebrated by ordering two ice cream cakes and eating them both with just two spoons and Mamma Mia playing in the background. 

They decided they wanted to get married again with a proper ceremony since their wedding in Italy was slightly tainted by the fact she had to go to hospital. Their mothers were also adamant they had another wedding they could actually attend. 

He held his breath when she walked out in a beautiful, white dress. It was a tight fitted, mermaid dress with an open back. She was adamant about having a tight fitted dress so she could see how bloated her belly got with the buffet they had for the reception. With the chemo, she couldn't stomach a lot of food but now all she wanted to do was eat and Harry loved it. 

His eyes began to water as she walked down the aisle on her own. She didn't want anyone to walk her down the aisle because she didn't like the idea of someone giving her away. No one was giving her away because she had always been Harry's right from the beginning.

"You may now kiss the bride!" Everyone cheered as the Officiant announced it. 

Y/N leaned forward and smiled, tears down her face, "Should we make out?" She whispered. 

"Most definitely." Harry smiled and it was the happiest he had ever been in his life. 

October 1st 2027

Welcome to the world, little Matilda. 

You came into this world with sun beams coming out of you and we haven't seen the rain since.

Your mother is currently asleep and I haven't got the heart to wake her up. She never ceases to amaze me with how strong she is and I've promised her months of rest since all you seemed to do was wake her up in the night with your tiny toes and little fingers pressing against her belly. 

I've loved your mother for ten whole years now and it just adds to your perfection that you were born on the day we met. 

On the day we met, I was awkward and shy and hated people which makes no sense since we were at a party. I had no intention of meeting your mother but she was there and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. 

Don't worry Matilda, you are half your mother and will be just as pretty as she is. 

She was my first kiss, the first person I opened up to and the only person I wanted to spend my life with.

Except now we have you and my world before these ten years seems non-existent. 

I love you Matilda and no matter how much I say I love you, I will always love you more than that. 

You have my green eyes and your mother's little nose. I can already tell you have the imagination of your mother because you were grabbing at my fingers last night and making noises with a smile on your face. 

I promise to raise you with as much love as I have given your mother and I know your mother will love as hard as she loves me. Our house will be filled with nothing but love for you Matilda and I hope you hold onto that and carry it with you wherever you go. 

You will always be the light in our lives from now on my sweet Matilda. 

"Is she awake?" Y/N murmurs, eyes still shut.

"No, she's sleeping." Harry looks down at the little girl in his arms. 

"I can't believe we made her Harry." She smiles, cheeks pink, reminding him of the time they first met. 

It did amaze him how the person they created together was a product of their love. He didn't really think it possible to hold love in his hands until he held Matilda for the first time. 

"I love you, Harry." She whispers, holding his hand. 

"I love you too." He sighs, feeling utter bliss.

He would do it all again, he thought, the ups and downs and in-betweens, he'd do it all. 

Everything with you. 

[javier-pena]

quicksand

Pairing: Pedro's unnamed character in Materialists x f!reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You meet a stranger at a party.

Warnings: smoking | drinking | creepy men | reader gets her butt slapped by a stranger | infidelity | cheating | age gap (reader is in her early to mid 20s, her boyfriend is in his 50s, I’m putting Pedro’s character in Materialists in his late 40s) | emotional neglect (boarding on emotional abuse) | reader has long-ish hair that can get wet without it being an issue | a little bit of self-loathing | possessiveness (the good kind and the bad kind | hands hands hands hands hands | oral (f receiving) | a little bit of praise kink | voyeurism | mirror sex | (unprotected) p in v sex | rough sex | multiple orgasms | overstimulation | a tiny tiny bit of degradation | oral fixation (🫣) | choking | dirty talk | creampie | cum eating

Notes: Last week I saw these behind the scenes shots of Pedro in Materialists and somehow I had to write 8,000 words about that? I'm also not quite sure what happened, it was supposed to be like 3k max. There was also this ask Han @swiftispunk received that I couldn't get out of my head. The title is inspired by Ms Swift's song Treacherous (And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands / And I'd be smart to walk away / But you're quicksand), the rest is inspired by going completely feral whenever new pictures dropped. Tremendous thanks to Dani @alexturner who just beta'd a long-ass fic last week and then this fic this week - you're being way too good to me with indulging all thoughts I have that I have to turn into short stories 🫣 My dear, sweet anon who kept sending me encouraging asks, this is for you!!

***

There’s laughter coming from downstairs, deep, rumbling laughter impossible to ignore. Your whole body seems to shake with it, your heart stutters in your chest angrily, and you press your hands over your ears. But the loud voices are still there, mocking you with their indifference to your pain. You bury your face in your cool satin pillow and sob into it, ruining the expensive fabric. You don’t fucking care.

All your friends warned you this would happen and you hate how they were right. “You’re nothing but a toy to him.” Shut up, Marissa, you’re just jealous. “Maybe you should look for a boyfriend who’s closer to you in age.” Maybe you should look for a boyfriend, period. “You’re only a fuckmaid to him, do you realize that?” That was the point you stopped listening to them and, at the same time, it was the point you should have started listening.

You are nothing but a toy to him. You should have looked for someone closer to you in age. You are … no, you can’t bring yourself to even think the word, because the truth hurts too much. The truth and your blindness and your stupidity and the fact that you’re throwing your life away for a man who breaks every promise he makes and who treats you like a pet. A beautiful, expensive pet that can be ignored whenever it’s convenient.

“Come with me to the Keys,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hotter than his steadily cooling release sticking to your thighs.

“What?” you asked, heart clenching painfully. When was the last time he cared enough to make you come? Months ago?

“Come with me to the Keys,” he repeated. “The change of scenery will be good for us. I’ll show you around. We can go deep sea fishing. I’ll buy you some dresses and bathing suits. Just take my card tomorrow.”

He brushed your hair away from your neck, kissed the skin there, cupped one of your breasts, squeezed it hard. “Piers,” you warned, tried to get away from him. But there was nowhere to go.

The truth is you had been looking forward to his trip. Had been looking forward to having the apartment to yourself for a while. It’s not like you would’ve done anything in particular except just breathe for once.

“Don’t be like that,” he mumbled against your neck, squeezed your breast again. “Don’t you want to sip on a nice cocktail? Wear a risqué outfit for me?”

No, you didn’t want that. But if you didn’t say yes soon, he’d get angry. “Okay,” you gave in. “But you have to promise me that you’ll spend one day with me. No business.”

What’s easily promised is easily broken.

Today is supposed to be your day. And for once in your life, you thought it would be. Piers took you out for breakfast, right by the water. You watched the sunshine dance across the waves. Then he showed you around town, took you to his favorite spots in Key West, even held your hand. And you thought, This is it. I’m finally worthy of him. Then came the call, followed by those emails, and suddenly Piers was like, “Sorry, babe, I have to meet them, they’re important business partners. Why don’t you go to the beach club, buy yourself a nice massage? Here’s my card.”

Here's my card. You’ve never hated three words more.

What you didn’t expect was to come home to a party. At least twenty men were milling around the house Piers liked to refer to as his “Key West Residence”, a late 19th century villa. Twenty loud men, rich like Piers, most of them his age, leering at you as you stepped through the front door, mistaking you for tonight’s entertainment.

“Babe!” Piers boomed, spilling half his drink while opening his arms as if he meant to hug you. The glances didn’t stop. “Go upstairs, freshen up, put on something nice, and then let me show you off.”

You managed to complete the first step before breaking down on your bed. You’ve been sobbing ever since.

Something breaks downstairs and some of the men roar. You bury your face deeper against the pillow, terrified to go back downstairs, terrified to stay up here. Whatever you do, it will be the wrong thing. You close your eyes and think about what it would be like if the men downstairs vanished. If you had the house to yourself, sharing it with a person you loved and who loved you in return. You could be having dinner on the patio now. Before that, you might go for a swim in the pool, knowing the only eyes on you were your partner’s, the only glances you received were welcome.

You sit up straight. You might hate it when Piers’ business partners look at you like you’re a piece of meat, but Piers hates it too if they don’t do it without being invited. Twenty men imagining all the vile ways in which they could fuck you is the last thing you want right now, but it’s also the last thing Piers wants.

You stumble into the bathroom and wash your face with ice cold water, willing the puffiness of your eyes to recede. You put on your most expensive makeup, the kind that only comes off with intensive scrubbing, then you pick your most revealing bikini and put it on. If those men stared at you like that in a long sundress, their heads will probably explode if they see you like this.

Chin held high, beach towel thrown over your shoulder, you make your way downstairs on high heels the same shade of black as your bikini. You feel utterly stupid, like you’re giving them exactly what they want, but the flush that spreads across Piers’ cheeks when he sees you is worth it. There are some whistles, a few crude comments, one man slaps your ass, but you make it to the pool. None of them are brave enough to follow you outside.

The water is cool against your skin, doing its best to extinguish the fire that burns within you. The flames don’t die down completely but they’re certainly soothed. You start to swim, one length, then three, and soon the party resumes and the men pick up their conversations again. This almost feels normal; this almost feels like a life you could enjoy. Except that you’re alone. And not in a way you crave.

You stop swimming and start drifting on your back, watching the sky above turn from a gentle blue into a soft pink, a bright orange, a deep purple. Soon, the sun will go down and the party will pick up speed. You should go, put on a dress, let Piers show you off, vanish before they’ve had too much alcohol.

You climb out of the pool, squeeze water out of your hair, wrap the towel around yourself. No one is paying attention to you now, so you pick up your heels to carry them back upstairs. There’s no way you’ll make it back to your room without one or two unwanted glances, without the odd rude comment, but you can live with that. You step onto the patio, eyes firmly fixed on your destination, then start walking through the gathering, careful not to look at anyone, careful not to be seen.

Someone sees you though. It’s not Piers, and it also isn’t one of the men who look at you and lick their lips. It’s someone watching you from the shadows, someone on one of the chairs in the parlor. Keep your eyes on the stairs, you tell yourself. Nothing good can come from this. While you were in the pool, Piers must have turned on the music, old jazz songs he always plays when he wants to appear sophisticated. The tinny sounds of saxophones make your ears ring, irritating you more than the heavy smell of cigar smoke that seems to be seeping into every corner of the house. You feel horrible between all those men dressed in their suits, even with the towel covering most of your skin. And you wish that one man would stop watching you because it makes you feel hunted, makes your body beg to run and hide.

At the foot of the stairs you pause, your heart in your throat. A man brushes past you, pretending like there is only so little room he has to press his palm against the small of your back. You turn around looking for Piers, ready to pretend you have a horrific migraine and won’t be joining him after all, when your eyes land on the man who is making the hair at the back of your neck stand with his unrelenting gaze.

You can’t see him properly because he’s half hidden behind the door to the parlor, a room that’s devoid of proper lighting and full of cigar smoke. But you see his dark eyes on you, feel them look right through you, see you for who you are, while he laughs at something the man next to him is saying. You crane your neck to get a better look at him but two other men walk past, obscuring your view. When they spot you and start to make their way toward you, you bolt up the stairs. At least no one will dare to follow you up here.

*******

“There she is!” Piers announces later, opening his arms wide again. He doesn’t spill his drink this time. You step into his embrace and let him kiss your cheek. “Took you long enough, doll.” You hate it when he calls you that, but you keep on smiling. Then he leans closer and whispers, “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it. Letting another man touch you! What’s wrong with you?”

So it did bother him after all. It should make you feel proud, but it only makes you feel empty. “I’m sorry,” you whisper back and kiss him. Someone at the back of the room whistles.

“Just try to behave for the rest of the night,” he says coldly, then smiles at you and asks in his loud business voice, “Isn’t she lovely?”

Some of the men nod but none dare to look at you directly. Not when Piers has his arm slung around your shoulder anyway.

“How about a drink?” he asks you and when you nod, he takes your hand and leads you toward the bar at the back of the parlor. You follow him, shivering slightly from the evening breeze blowing in through the open French doors. The smoke in the room makes your eyes sting.

With practiced ease, Piers fills a sparkling glass with vodka and soda, adding a bit of lime juice. You try to ignore the man who is standing a little bit too close to you, whose eyes hang a little bit too low.

“Here you are.” Piers hands you the glass. “I have something to discuss with those gentlemen over there,” he nods at two men standing by the door to his study, “but I shouldn’t be too long. Try not to cause too much of a scene while I’m gone.”

You close your fingers around the glass and nod. All you want to do is run.

As soon as he’s gone, they start to close in on you. It’s what Piers wants. He wants others to desire what belongs to him – his apartment, his car, his life. You’re part of all of that. He wants these men to desire you, to think they can have you. You should have listened to your friends, to Marissa and Annie and all the others. If you had, you might hate yourself less.

You know they all want to talk to you and they won’t take no for an answer, so you start to make your way toward the open French doors to escape into the garden. If you stand right at the edge, you can hear the waves whisper and feel the ocean breeze on your face. And if you keep still long enough, they might forget about you.

You don’t even make it out the door before your eyes start to wander from the lush green bushes and trees outside and land on a man sitting in a leather armchair close to the open doors. You don’t know if it’s the same one whose gaze you felt on you earlier, but there’s something about him that makes it hard for you to look away. He’s in the middle of a conversation, one leg comfortably slung across the other, ankle resting against thigh. One of his hands is spread on his knee, his fingers stroking and tapping the expensive fabric of his back dress pants in a nervous tick. His other hand is wrapped around a glass full of amber liquid that he takes a swig from right as you walk past, pretending not to notice how the muscles in his neck work as he swallows, pretending not to notice the gold ring on his little finger that clinks against the glass as he lowers it again.

Your own drink untouched, you stand on the patio, off to the side where you hope no one will notice you but where you can look at that stranger from time to time. You don’t think you’ve seen him before, but you don’t usually pay a lot of attention to Piers’ associates. None of the men here this evening look familiar. Still, there is something about the way this man runs his fingers through his dark curls from time to time, the way he tries to smooth the wrinkles in his white shirt, the way he takes a drag from a big, dark brown cigar once in a while that makes it impossible for you to look away. Until another man demands your attention.

“Hi there,” he says, his laugh showing off perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “I’m Hutton.”

You think about saying, “And I’m not interested,” but to Piers that would probably count as causing a scene. And Hutton looks like he’s one of the younger men here, probably in his late 30s. There are worse guys to talk to. “Hi,” you reply with a sweet smile.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” He steps closer to you, encouraged by your smile.

“Yes,” you reply. “So how do you know Piers?”

If he’s annoyed by you bringing up your boyfriend right away, he doesn’t let it show. “We work together,” he answers, which could mean anything in Piers’s world.

“And what brings you to Key West?”

“The scenery,” Hutton answers, not even trying to hide his hungry gaze that glides over your naked shoulders and cleavage.

“I thought it was business,” you say, your smile faltering slightly. “Seeing you’re here.”

“I try not to mix business with pleasure.” Hutton leans against the small sliver of wall between the French doors and the corner of the house. “It’s neither good for business nor pleasure.”

You hum, trying to take a step back. You’re already at the edge of the patio though, and you almost stumble off it, losing your footing.

Hutton grabs your arm and pulls you toward him. “Careful there, pretty girl.”

You try to pull your arm back but he won’t let go. “Thank you,” you say at the same time as he says, “Have you ever thought about exchanging Piers for a younger model?”

It didn’t take him more than a few words exchanged to get to the point.

You yank your arm free but he grabs it again. “Stop it,” you command in your strictest voice but he only grins at you.

“Don’t be like this. I’m only fooling around.”

“Then let go of me.” He doesn’t.

You’re about to throw your drink in his face, even if it means Piers will be angry with you again, when someone steps out onto the patio.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He’s standing right there, one hand in the pocket of his dark pants, the other holding his cigar. Shame washes over you and your palms grow sweaty. You really don’t need this right now. But Hutton immediately lets go of you and turns to face the newcomer.

“We’re good here, thanks,” he says, his jaw clenched.

The stranger takes his time to take a drag on his cigar, lets out the smoke while looking up at the now deep purple evening sky. “It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks and Hutton lets out a sigh.

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” he asks.

The stranger shrugs.

You glance into the parlor, at all the men milling about, wondering if you could make your escape without anyone noticing. But there is something in the way the stranger holds himself that makes you want to stay and find out how this ends. Piers, by now, would have rushed past Hutton, a snarl on his lips, his anger directed at you. The stranger just stands there, his shoulders relaxed, acting as if he doesn’t even particularly care that you and Hutton are out here on the patio as well. It’s a different kind of threat … a different kind of protectiveness.

Hutton turns to you. “Are you coming?”

You shake your head and with a roll of his eyes and an annoyed, “Whatever,” he vanishes into the house, leaving you alone with him.

The silence unbearable, you say, “Thank you.”

He takes another drag on his cigar, then comes closer to you. You ignore how your heart flutters at his approach. He reaches for your hand and for a wild moment you think he’s going to grab your arm too, but he only takes the drink from your hand, sniffs the contents of the glass, then dumps it over the edge of the patio. “Let’s get you a proper drink,” he says.

You’re too stunned to do much more than follow him back into the house and toward the bar. Around you, the volume has risen since you stepped out onto the patio, but you don’t care as much as you did before. It’s hard to care about anything when your stomach is in a tight knot and when you feel like the world around you has gone completely quiet.

The man steps behind the bar, gently places his cigar in an ashtray, then regards the collection of bottles before him with his hands on his hips. “You don’t look like a vodka girl to me,” he mumbles, and you feel your face grow hot. You don’t know why. “Here.” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vermouth. You only now notice how big his hands are, and your mind immediately starts to replay the evening. His hand on his knee, his hand around his glass, his hand … You shake your head, but the shiny gold ring on his little finger glitters enticingly as he unscrews the bottle of vermouth to smell the alcohol within. It’s like you’re a magpie, enchanted by everything that glitters.

“Sweet enough,” he concludes, pouring a little vermouth and a lot of whiskey into a martini glass. Then he goes through all the bottles once more until he finds one of lavender bitter and adds it to the mix.

“What is that?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m not done yet.” There’s a small jar of cocktail cherries he unscrews. With skilled movements, he skewers two of them onto a silver cocktail stick before handing you the glass. The mix inside is orange on top, a reddish purple deeper below. It looks like the sunset you watched earlier.

“What is it?” you ask again.

“Taste it,” he tells you, an eager glint in his eyes.

You take a careful sip and widen your eyes in surprise at the strong yet sweet taste. “Oh, this is really good!”

“It’s sweet, like you,” he says, then seems to change his mind, adopting a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “It’s a Manhattan. That’s where you belong, not in this tourist trash kind of town.”

That makes you laugh. “Hey, I like it here.”

The bar is still between you but he leans on it to get closer to you. “I bet you would also like Manhattan if I showed you around.”

“I’m from Manhattan,” you tell him. “I live there, actually.”

“I do too,” he responds. “Funny how we should run into each other here, of all places.”

You inhale shakily. You don’t know why. “If you hate it here so much, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at you, and you’re sure your heart stops. “I heard you talk to that other guy. I’m not here to have a conversation like that with you.”

You take another sip from your cocktail even though it makes your head spin. “What are you here for then?”

“That’s just another way of asking me what I’m doing here, angel eyes,” he points out. He does it so smoothly you almost don’t notice the diminutive.

You straighten your back, only now realizing you were leaning on the bar close to him. He mirrors you, then walks around the wood between you so he can stand directly next to you. “You tell me what you want to talk about then. After all, you approached me, you made me a drink, you wanted to whisk me off to Manhattan.”

“That was before I realized how worldly you are,” he says and his smile turns sly.

“Oh?” you make. You swallow. “Am I too difficult for you then?”

“I like a challenge.”

This is where you should stop. This is where you should thank him again for rescuing you, and for the drink, and where you should walk away to find your boyfriend, who surely has to be done with his meeting by now. But how can you step away when he’s still smiling at you as if he’s having the time of his life, when you felt drawn to him all evening, when having his eyes on you makes you feel truly seen? Yes, he isn’t exactly subtle in the way he flirts with you, but there is a kindness in his gaze you’ve never seen on another man before. And then he touches you, straightening the strap of your short, tight dress, and your whole body comes alive.

“You know smoking is bad for you, right?” is the only thing you can come up with, willing your voice to remain steady.

“I like things that are bad for me,” he replies.

It’s such a cheesy line, it makes you want to bury your face in your hands. But, god, does talking to him make you feel good.

“Ha!” He points at you. “That’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen all evening.

“Call me ‘sweet’ again and you might see some more,” you retort. All you want to do is to tell him you don’t mind his harmless flirting, that whatever this is between you is fun, but it comes out heavy with implications. Implications you can’t take back because you don’t want to.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and you think you might die. “You’re very brave.” It’s a statement. “I saw you walk to the pool earlier in –”

“I know,” you interrupt him. “I saw you watching me.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. “It made me want to kiss you.”

You freeze. There is nothing you can say that won’t end badly for you. “So you made me a drink instead?”

He plucks the cocktail stick out of your glass and holds it up to your mouth. You close your lips around the first cocktail cherry and pull it off slowly, your eyes fixed to his. It might just be the low lighting but you think his pupils dilate. He drops the stick back into the glass and takes a big swig of your drink, his eyes momentarily leaving yours. You do your best not to watch his throat as he swallows.

“You really are something,” he concludes, putting down the glass on the bar.

You feel lightheaded, as if you’d just made out with him for half an hour. “I’m also in a relationship.” The words are out before you can stop yourself. You didn’t mean to say them.

“I don’t give a damn.”

You giggle, actually giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “You sound like the hero in one of those ancient black-and-white movies.”

“Or maybe I’m the villain.”

This time you do bury your face in your hands. “Oh, stop it.”

“No,” he simply says, and you get it. You want to kiss him too.

Instead, you glance at the small gold wrist watch on your arm. “It’s late. I should –”

He interrupts you. “Don’t –,” but you don’t let him finish.

“Thank you for the drink. And thank you for making me laugh. You made this whole thing bearable.”

You don’t know if you should shake his hand or kiss his cheek so you don’t do any of it. You pat his arm, once, trying not to notice how it feels against your palm, then walk toward the stairs, your heart breaking with each step. If you were single, you wouldn’t have hesitated to sleep with this man. If you weren’t Piers’ girlfriend, he would never have looked your way. It’s better to end it here.

The quietness of your room engulfs you, just like the soothing coolness of the pool earlier. As soon as you close the door behind you and lean against it, you can breathe. Yes, you can still hear the sounds of the party, but they’re muffled. You can finally hear yourself think again and you exhale shakily. You almost made the biggest mistake of your life. The adrenaline rush you got from it makes you snicker.

Piers isn’t entirely faithful. He attends parties with strippers, he looks at other women, you know all that. But it doesn’t mean anything because at the end of the day he comes home to you. What you just did … it goes beyond everything Piers has ever done, and you wouldn’t have been able to look at yourself in the mirror if you had spent one more minute in the presence of that handsome stranger. Even if your flirting made you happier than Piers has in months.

There’s a knock at your door and you jump. Expecting Piers, you open it without a second thought. “I’ll be right …,” you start but forget every word in the English language when you come face to face with the stranger.

“Hello,” he says, and that handsome smile is back on his face, even if he keeps a careful distance. “You vanished so quickly it made me wonder … did I do something wrong?”

“What?” you ask because it’s the only word you can remember.

“I’ll go back downstairs if you don’t want me here,” he goes on, “just say the word.”

They never come up the stairs. Never. Who does he think he is? “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just tired.” You try to close the door in his face, but he steps closer, bracing a hand against the wooden doorframe. “Excuse me,” you say insistently.

“Can I come in?”

Into your room? “Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” you reject him. You laugh, but it sounds insincere. “You should go back downstairs.”

“Alright,” he agrees, “but you have to say it like you mean it.”

“Listen here,” you start in your best no-nonsense voice. He tightens his grip on the wood and you hear it creak, despite the noise downstairs. “I want you to …”

It’s no use. You don’t know who he is, you don’t even know his name, but you also know that if you don’t let yourself have this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

“You need to say the words, sweet –”

“I want you to kiss me.”

You both freeze. His mouth hangs open, still in the middle of forming the next word he wanted to say. You tense, well aware that you said something you can not take back.

The few seconds that pass feel like an eternity. Then he pushes himself past the doorframe into your room, into your personal space. You smell the heavy scent of cigar smoke on him, you smell leather and lavender and citrus. You see his smile that turns into something more determined the closer he gets to you. You notice the stubble on his cheek, the glint in his eyes, the small dark spot on the collar of his white shirt. You feel … you feel his body pressing against yours, his hand pressing against the small of your back, his breath on your face, and then everything is reduced to his lips on yours, your breaths mingling, his … his tongue coaxing you open, not gently but insistent, and you not hesitating to open yourself up for him.

It's as if you’re watching it all from above, you pushing him backward, him closing the door with a hard slam, the both of you pulling at each other while kissing and kissing and …

“Careful,” he chuckles when you bite down on his bottom lip. “You said kiss, not –”

“I don’t give a fuck what I said,” you interrupt him, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says and grabs your wrist.

You groan. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “I’m not. You’re just … We’re doing this on my terms or not at all.”

Something throbs deep within your core.

He tightens his hold on you. “I’ve had all evening to think about this. To picture all the things I want to do to you.”

“It’s not going to be just kissing then?” you ask, relishing the chuckle you draw out of him.

“I knew I wouldn’t leave here tonight without feeling your pretty little cunt clench around me.”

It sounds like a line straight out of a porn movie. You should laugh, tell him to take you seriously. But all you can do is whimper at the thought of him sitting in his chair downstairs, talking to one of Piers’ associates or even Piers himself while thinking about being buried deep inside of you. Every other man would send you fleeing. Not him though.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Does it matter? Once I’m done with you, you’ll have forgotten your own name.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Those are some big words,” you point out.

He lets go of your wrist, then bunches the fabric of your dress up in his hand until he can reach below the hem, his broad, warm hand landing on your naked skin, his ring digging into your soft flesh. You gasp.

“Do you really think I’d disappoint you?”

“No,” you say too quickly, too rashly.

He grabs your dress again. “How about you take this off for me?”

“No,” you repeat, biting the inside of your cheek so you don’t laugh at the look of shock on his face. Then you turn around. “I can’t really open the zipper without some assistance.”

He runs both his hands over your naked shoulders and down to the middle of your back. You expect him to take his time, but he yanks the zipper down so quickly you think you hear fabric tear. You almost don’t have enough time to slip out of the thin shoulder straps before he falls to his knees behind you, pulling the dress with him. His hands are on your butt cheeks now, massaging, grabbing you as if he’s set on memorizing every detail. He slips his thumb under the hem of your panties, dips the tip into the wetness there.

You gasp at the same time as he whispers, “Knew it.”

You pull him away from you and turn around, well aware you’re completely naked except for your panties. “Well, it’s hardly surprising,” you start, your voice airy, but then it dies down completely at the sight of him kneeling in front of you looking up at you with so much heat in his gaze you’re getting burned. How did you get here?

You want him to tease you back, but he only pulls you close, his hands clasping your hips insistently, and kisses your belly, right above the hem of your panties. Then he kisses your thighs and your sides, and your belly button, and then he pulls down your panties and buries his face in your wetness with a relieved sigh. Your hands shoot forward and grab his curls, dig into them, desperate for purchase, as your head swims from the overstimulation. You would like to focus on the feeling of his hair between your fingers. You would like to focus on his tongue swirling around your clit. You would like to focus on the growl he makes when you run your nails over his scalp.

You think you’re laughing. You think you say, “Does that still count as kissing?”

“Yes,” he mumbles against the soft skin of your thighs. His curls are already a mess, his face is flushed, but when he glances up at you, his eyes are bright with determination.

“I think you have to show me that definition of kissing someday,” you go on, glancing up at the ceiling. You can’t look at him directly, it feels too intimate.

“That’s enough talking,” he decides and licks a broad stripe across your drenched folds.

You tighten your grip on his curls in response because your legs start to quiver. You hope he doesn’t notice, but his fingers dig into your thighs to steady you. The edges of his ring are cutting into you almost painfully – you want more of it. His hair wrapped around your fingers you pull him closer into you and he moans against you … actually moans. You push away those thoughts that make you compare him to Piers, how Piers would never moan if he was between your legs, how Piers never eats you out. This isn’t about him – it’s about you.

There’s something in the way that stranger rolls and flicks his tongue that tells you he won’t make you wait for an orgasm. You want to hold on longer because you can’t bear the thought of this being over already, but there is something in the way he devours you that pushes you toward the edge at a rapid speed. You don’t even hear the sounds of the party anymore, the laughter, the music; it’s just him and his deep sighs and moans.

You’re almost embarrassed by how fast you come. One second you’re appreciating the way his tongue flicks your clit, the next you can barely stay upright when your whole body releases months and months of built-up tension. You quiver in his grip and he holds you close, licking and licking until you can’t take it anymore. You think you mumble, “Fuckfuckfuck,” but there is no way to be sure. All you know is that you just had one of the best orgasms of your life.

You laugh as if the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. What else is there to do? “So this is doing things on your terms?” you ask.

He sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You think you might explode at that sight. “No, that was for your benefit. The rest is going to be for mine.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at your bed that’s rumpled from you crying on it earlier. If he can make you feel like that with just his tongue, what will he be –

“No, sugar, not like that,” he tells you, immediately pulling your attention back to him.

Your throat is dry when you ask, “What then?”

He stands and cups your cheek, his hand pleasantly warm. You lean into the touch immediately. “Don’t be so impatient. Enjoy the moment for a while.”

“What moment …?” you start but you don’t get far. He claims your mouth in a searing kiss that makes you wish you had been paying more attention to what he was doing when he was eating you out. You kiss him back, slinging your arms around his neck, the soft fabric of his white shirt rubbing against your naked chest. He licks across your bottom lip until you open your mouth for him, and then he claims you like no one has before. You fear that if you start thinking about how you can taste yourself on him, you’ll go insane.

“You’re so easy to kiss,” he mumbles against your lips. You’re not quite sure how he means it, but your chest still expands at the compliment.

“And you’re very handsome,” you retort lamely.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about telling me all evening?”

“No,” you reply too slowly this time.

He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth right next to your ear. “I’ve been thinking about watching myself fuck you.”

He doesn’t give you time to process, takes you over to the vanity that stands opposite your bed, its mirror dull in the dim light of the room. Even when he places your hands on the table top, telling you to hold on, you still don’t think he’s serious. You look at yourself in the mirror, at the makeup smudges below your eyes, the birth mark on your throat that you hate, how your mouth hangs open in a way that looks so very unsexy. Behind you, that stranger you invited into your room, this man you know nothing about, is unbuttoning his expensive dress pants, his white shirt obscuring the view. What does he see in you that makes him want you like this?

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s holding himself now, but you can’t see his hand moving without turning around. And he didn’t tell you you’re allowed to look. Your palms begin to sweat against the wooden surface of the vanity, at the thought of him telling you what you are and aren’t allowed to do, at him praising you for doing well and punishing you if you don’t. You don’t recognize that side of yourself.

His eyes are open again and he searches for yours in the mirror. “I asked you a question.”

You swallow hard. “No, I don’t,” you say, fighting down a giggle. It’s nerves.

“I’d better show you then,” he concludes, and he pushes inside of you with one hard stroke, filling you faster than you can spread your legs.

You both take a moment to breathe. He adjusts himself, you try to get used to the angle, the feeling of fullness. You haven’t seen his hard cock, but you know he’s more than Piers, so much more the stretch is almost uncomfortable. The wood beneath your fingers starts to swim when your vision blurs and –

“No, none of that.” He grips your chin and lifts your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve also been thinking about you watching me fuck you.”

His hand looks so big holding your face like that, and when you swallow again, he can feel it against his fingers.

His own face is right there next to yours, his eyes firmly fixed to yours through the glass. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you can take it.”

Before you can think of anything to say, he pulls out of you and thrusts back in in a tentative motion that is enough for your eyes to flutter shut in pleasure.

“No, no, no,” he whispers into your ear. “Keep them open.”

You do as you’re told and he rewards you with a sharp bite to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. Your hips thrust back of their own accord, meeting his in a quick snap.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he mumbles against your skin.

You hadn’t even realized you were making any, too transfixed by watching him move behind you. Whenever your gaze wavers and flutters to your own face, embarrassment sends adrenaline shooting through your body. But he … watching his shoulders and arms tense and relax beneath his shirt that looks all too tight now, watching him meet your gaze, eyes full of lust … you don’t know why you would fuck anyone any other way than this.

He straightens his back, changing the angle slightly, and now you do hear yourself groan. He grabs your chin tighter and pushes two fingers into your mouth. “You know,” he says, and his hips snap with more force, faster, making the vanity rattle beneath your hands, “if you were mine, I’d let no man touch you. I would’ve broken his arm.”

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what he means; you’re too busy relishing the taste of his skin on your tongue. There must have been a man who touched you … when you were coming down the stairs … You can see it all clearly now. He would grab that man’s arm, calm and collected, twist it, make him shout in surprise … you can almost hear the bones snap.

“Oh, look at that,” he groans, and you do. You look at yourself in the mirror, unashamed, eyes wide. You watch how you eagerly suck and lick his fingers, watch it as if another person was doing it. You’re trembling in his grip … or is he making everything shake with his thrusts that are coming faster and faster now as he fucks you, taking what he needs? “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You almost don’t hear him, too transfixed by how depraved he’s making you feel. “You’d get off on that, a good man protecting you. Shame I’m not good, really.”

You don’t care. You’re done with those men who act politely, who treat you with care when they know Piers is around, but who talk about you taking it up the ass when your back is turned. You’d much rather have this, a man who isn’t scared to say these things to your face. Even if he thinks he isn’t all good, he still protected you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and you whimper at the loss, watching how a thread of spit connecting his digits to your lips breaks. With his other hand, he suddenly grabs one of your breasts, squeezing your hard nipple with practiced ease, and you arch your back with a moan, exposing your throat to him. His fingers close around it, hard, restricting the airflow, his ring pressing against one of the most vulnerable spots of your body in a way that doesn’t leave any room for doubt – you’re doing this on his terms.

He tightens his grip on your throat until you start seeing stars, the loosens it. “I’m going to make you come now. I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what you look like coming around my cock.”

If you could, you would nod, but he isn’t looking for your consent. He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger one last time, then lowers his hand to find your clit. When he touches you, you make a sound like never before, one that’s feral and animalistic and can’t possibly be coming from you.

He shushes you, his breath tickling your neck. “You don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You don’t? You have no idea. You can’t form a single coherent thought as he pounds into you, making sure you’ll be able to feel him long after he’s done with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your voice is breathless after that scream, hoarse and raw. Your gaze flickers to his fingers curled tightly around your neck.

“Keep your eyes on yourself, baby girl,” he orders.

Baby girl.

That’s what does it. You watch your eyes widen and your mouth fall open as your body shakes first from his thrusts and then from wave after wave of pleasure. He was right. You love this. You love watching yourself come while he forces you to watch yourself, love to watch your orgasm play out across your face. He’s watching you too, licking his lips hungrily, never faltering. But you can see it in his eyes, the way he’s memorizing every detail of your orgasm.

“Well done,” he says once you’re done and moves your chin so he can kiss your lips.

Then he suddenly pushes you down so your chest connects with the table top. You grunt in surprise, then in pain when he rolls your head to the side so you can still somewhat glimpse his reflection above you.

“My turn,” he growls.

His teeth are digging into his bottom lip, his eyes are firmly fixed on his own reflection, and he holds you down with such a strong grip you can’t move, but also in a way that’s so casual it makes you feel like he’s using you. Your heart stutters with longing so intense at that thought that the feeling spreads to the rest of your body and becomes so intense he feels it in his own. At least you think that is what’s going on when he smiles down on you.

The position you’re in and the tenderness between your legs steadily turns from pleasurable to uncomfortable to simply too much. But he doesn’t finish. He keeps going and going, not as fast as before, seemingly transfixed by what you’re doing. You reach back for him and he grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back.

“Please,” you whimper, and it makes his intense gaze falter for just one second.

“Almost there, baby girl,” he replies, “you’re doing so well. Just keep taking it a little while longer.” You think you could bear anything if he just kept talking to you like that.

Then suddenly it’s over. There is one last thrust that pushes you onto the tips of your toes and then he stills. The only movement comes from his hips that are twitching as he empties himself inside of you. You don’t even dare to breathe, watching as his reflection slowly relaxes and he closes his eyes for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he pulls out of you and you try to stand, but he pushes you back down again. “Stay. We’re not done yet.”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, but your mind is blank, unable to imagine what else he could have in store for you. You don’t feel anything at first, you just hear him moan, and then you realize he’s kneeling behind you, cleaning you up with his tongue, eagerly licking his own release off your skin. It makes you feel so lewd you forget about everything, even Piers. Especially when he doesn’t stop at your thighs but moves further and further up your legs until his tongue and nose are buried in your folds once more and he’s spreading you open with his big hands.

You can’t help it.

“Fuck, fu- I- I’m gonna –”

There’s no time for you to finish the warning before you’re coming a third time, your hips desperately twitching against the vanity. He licks you through it, catching every last drop you’re giving him on his tongue. You can’t tell for sure but you think he’s chuckling and for some reason the shame you feel turns you on even more.

When it’s all over, he peels you off the vanity and pulls you into his arms, brushing your hair out of your face that is sticky with sweat. “You sure are a greedy little thing,” he says before he kisses you tenderly.

You swallow a sob and give him a sigh instead.

“Half the people downstairs probably heard us.” There’s a big grin on his face at that thought.

“I don’t give a fuck,” you repeat your earlier sentiment, surprised to discover that it’s true.

“Someone wants to get caught,” he teases and kisses you again.

“What I want is for you to fuck me like that again.”

“Oh, baby girl.” You almost hate how he’s already figured out what hearing him call you that does to you. “There are a million more things I want to do with you. This was just a taste.”

You’re not sure if you can believe him, but you decide to indulge that fantasy. You put on your sweetest smile. “Can’t wait.”

He lets go of you and walks toward your door. “Why don’t you give me a call once you’re back in Manhattan.”

A red warning light switches on somewhere in your brain. “But I don’t even know your name.”

“Something tells me you’ll find out.” And with that, he’s gone.