#fic: as in a mirror dimly

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[seonghwaddict]

to taint your soul — choi san

in which apparently even the daughter of an exorcist is not safe from the corruption of an incubus.

incubus!choi san x exorcist’s daughter!fem!reader. genre. smut, angst, southern gothic vibes. warnings. barely any plot, religious themes, religious guilt, swearing, explicit sexual content mdni, corruption, loss of virginity, masturbation (f.), referenced dacryphilia, fingering, referenced oral (f.), manhandling?, multiple orgasms, rough and gentle, big dick!san, creampie, marking, nicknames (angel, pretty girl, sweet girl, sweetheart). wc. 7.3k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. i should do more mythological characters!ateez cuz i enjoyed writing this and the lamb and the wolf. the demonology book/text here is partially from The Encylopedia of Demons and Demonology by Rosemary Ellen Guiley, but i made up some parts for the sake of the story. THIS FIC DOES NOT REPRESENT ANY OF MY OPINIONS AND I DO NOT INTEND TO OFFEND ANYONE.

listening to. burning desire, lana del rey // gibson girl, ethel cain // lilies, ethel cain & mercy necromancy // ptolemaea, ethel cain // heaven, taemin

masterlist.

you were cursed from the moment you were born.

the idea of being cursed or haunted by anything isn’t one you think about often, considering yourself protected by your father’s profession. at least one dusty bible on every bookshelf in the colonial monstrosity that is your home and crucifixes hung all around, it seems to be common sense that an exorcist’s home would be the safest place to hide from the dark.

unaware of it all, you used to let yourself be tucked into your lace-trimmed bedsheets as he pulled you to sleep with stories. tales of fallen angels and possessed souls became the lullabies of your childhood. admittedly, you were quite terrified of it all, but as you grew older and wiser, you realised there was no way they could get to you. but really, it was wishful thinking.

you weren’t aware of who your father used to be, nor were you aware of the debt he owed to a particular demon.

the dreams started the night after your twentieth birthday, vivid and unsettling. a man haunted them, equally as terrifying as he was handsome. tall and clad in dark silks, his whispered words and hungry eyes intrigued you. his touch, though a figment of your imagination, sent shivers down your spine, foreign yet infinitely alluring. you’d wake up with a jolt, panting, flushed cheeks and tingling skin as the dream stuck to you like cobwebs. your father passed the repeated dreams off as nightmares and you failed to notice the flash of fear cross his features.

one night, however, you were changing in your room. dimly illuminated by multiple candles you set around since you didn’t like how bright the large chandelier was, you held a dress in each of your hands, standing in front of the mirror as you held the clothing to your body in an attempt to figure out what to wear. you didn’t notice at first, but a figure lurked in the shadows of the bedroom. you didn’t notice the shift in the atmosphere or the flicker of the candles.

but soon, a soft sigh sounded through the room, so soft it could’ve been mistake for a whistling breeze outside your window. goosebumps prickled at your skin as you tensed, refusing to move at the oddly human sound. staring at yourself in the mirror intently, you caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the reflection of your mirror. your breath hitched as you fixed your eyes on him, afraid that if you blinked, he’d disappear.

you watched him. watched him take slow steps towards you as he smirked at the sight of your wide, fearful yet infinitely pure and innocent eyes. you convinced yourself you were hallucinating, the disturbingly realistic sounds of his footsteps as much of a figment of imagination as his being. but as he stood right behind you, a coldness swept over your skin and you flinched as his breath fanned against your bare shoulder. whipping around in surprise, you yelped softly at the sensation. but he was gone, and you were alone. breath erratic and eyes stinging, you scrambled to move a wooden cross stand from the top of your dresser to your bedside table.

after that you grew paranoid, always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with at least two safe and reliable candles lit. each time you walked through the hallways of your own home, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at the portraits lining the dark walls as you thought they were watching you. the tiniest of sounds made you flinch and break a sweat, squeezing your eyes shut and muttering prayers, only to find out the sound came from either of your parents.

the constant state of fear and anxiety left you tired, deciding if your father wasn’t going to do anything about it, you would. on quiet feet, you crept through the halls at noon (you were too scared to go to that room at night), a rosary wrapped around your hand with a dainty little cross hanging from your clenched palm.

you father really was a well-known exorcist, often to go on trips within and beyond the country to treat what doctors couldn’t; demonic possessions. as a symbol of his successes and a means to prevent others from coming in contact with whatever a demon may have attached itself to, he brought home trophies and locked them in a little storage room in the basement. of course, he took many precautions—crucifixes all over the inside and outside, sprinkles of holy water here and there, he’d have your local priest come over and bless the area himself. despite all this, you never once stepped in, partially because your father advised you not to, mostly because you were completely and utterly terrified.

as you descended the creaking wooden stairs, a chill ran through you, the hairs at your nape standing in alert. maybe you were scaring yourself more than the room scared you. the dust tickled your nostrils, making you force down a sneeze as you cleared your throat. the wooden floorboards extended into a narrow hallway, lined by cobblestone walls. you rarely came down, in fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you were there, the surroundings seeming so foreign. there were only two doors, one leading to a storage closet and the other to a slightly scarier storage closet.

you stared up at the ominous door, standing tall and intimidating, a golden cross embossed right in the centra, doorknob dark and rusted. with shaky hands, you fished a copper from the hidden pocket of your plaid gown. it half-hearted a few sloppy attempts until you got the key in, squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to finally turn it.

another chill ran through your body as you push the door open weakly, cracking an eye open to look inside. had you come at night, you wouldn’t have been able to see anything, the only source of light being an elongated shirt window lining the top of the right wall, an inch below the ceiling. three shelves. one on the right, one of the left, and one down the middle of the room. the middle and left one were lined with various objects. you walked between them, looking but not daring to touch. the objects were quite diverse, you realised. dolls, clocks, little statues.

you took your time to get to the shelf you needed. along with these objects, you father also locked away any books he had that were related to demons in any way. most of them were confiscated from cults, some of their were from his personal collection. he claimed they were to protect you, and you didn’t completely disbelieve him. taking a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, looking at all the titles. your fingertips ran over their leather bound spines, feeling the wrinkles and grooves. you knew there would be a lot, but as you looked upon the entire shelf, you estimated a good hundred-fifty books.

he organised them by categories. summoning, excommunication, identifying. identifying. that’s what you needed. you took a closer look at the section, nervousness fading briefly to be replaced by a faint taste of hope.

the encyclopaedia of demons and demonology.

deciding there had to be something in there, you pulled it out. the book itself was simple, bound in black leather. the cover was nothing special, just the title and author. by the looks of it, you’d be here for a while, seemingly at least three hundred pages long. you looked around the dark room, a small wooden desk was tucked into the corner though not a chair in sight. with a soft sigh, you walked over on weak knees, apprehensive about what you’d find in the book.

despite your father’s profession and all the bedtime stories, you never came in contact with demons or the spirit world. setting the book on the desk, you opened it to the index, having to squint to make out the text. but the next time you lifted your eyes off the page, a brass candle holder was tucked into the corner of the table.

you blinked. there was no way that was there before, but maybe you had just missed it. the pale yellow candle stood half melted, the hardened wax forming veins that ran down the sides and pooled in the brass bowl.

you held your breath momentarily before beginning to read through the a to z list of demons and other dark entities and their descriptions. you only skimmed, lingering on any that mentioned appearing in nightmares only to dismiss them when the rest of their descriptions didn’t match with your experience. surprised by just how much there was to read, you felt just a little curious, occasionally stopping to read extracts that had piqued your interest. it wasn’t until you got all the way to section i where something actually seemed to be helpful.

‘incubus—a lewd male demon who pursues women for sex. the incubus and his female counterpart, the succubus, visit women and men in their sleep, lie and press heavily upon them, and seduce them.’

you nearly missed it, continuing your skimming until the description registered, scrambling to turn back the page and reread it.

“oh.” you breathed at the realisation. that seemed to be the most accurate thus far, your finger tracing over the name as you furrowed your eyebrows and continued reading. the next paragraphs detailed how they’re conjured and where the name came from. you read some more.

‘incubi are especially attracted to women with beautiful hair, young virgins, chaste widows, and all “devout” females. nuns are among the most vulnerable and could be molested in the confessional as well as in bed. while the majority of women are forced into sex by the incubi, some of them submit willingly and even enjoy the act. it once was a common belief that women were more likely than men to be the sexual victims of demons, because women were inferior to men and less able to resist temptation.

incubi have enormous phalluses that—’

slamming the book shut, your eyes widened and a deep blush settled over your features, just staring at the cover for a moment as you collected yourself from the sudden vulgarity of the writing. after a moment, you cleared your throat and reopened the page, strategically skipping over the next paragraphs that detailed accounts of intercourse with such a demon.

‘an incubus may form attachments to those whose minds are occupied with dark and inherently sexual desires, those that are impure. one also can be summoned for coital gratifications, or a deal in which one’s first born is ommonly offered to repay their sevices (see: dealing with the demons, page 218).’

but that couldn’t be right. you always made sure to be a good girl, always helped at home. you volunteered to read to children at a local orphanage, always helped with charities and donations, always assisted people where you knew you could, stayed soft spoken and always began your requests with please and ended them with thank you. you kept to yourself most of the time, would never dare to raise your voice at anyone, never had any romantic interest, let alone sexual ones.

admittedly, the dreams involving the man— the demon had you waking up with an uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs. but before that, you never indulged. after that, you never indulged either, instead jumping from your bed and taking an ice could bath to calm yourself from the strange feeling. the temptations were always there and were always strong, but your want to be immaculate was stronger. to be free of sin.

a deal in which one’s first born is offered.

it seemed impossible, almost. you knew your father was a righteous man and your mother a pure woman. but where your mother happily shared stories of her childhood as heart-warming anecdotes, your father only dropped tidbits of his memories despite considering you two to be extremely close. you always chalked it up to him being a little boring or generally not very open. but maybe there was more to it…

“there you go, sweetheart.”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, pushing the book away from you as you turned around a little too quickly, your knee knocking against the edge of the table.

there he stood, barely illuminated by the singular window as he took slow steps towards you much like the other day.

“so, you’ve finally figured it out, huh?”

each time he took a step, his muscles visible through the loose black silk, you inched away until the top of your thigh hit the wooden table, your hands bracing themselves on it to keep you from collapsing in fear. the closer he got, the more you realised just how attractive he was. broad-shouldered and radiating confidence, his feline eyes roamed over your figure. depite wearing a white gown that reached all the way down to your ankles, you felt so exposed.

tongue swiping along his bottom lip, drawing your attention to the action. he towered over you, making you feel weak and small as he trapped you against the table. your heart pounded against your ribcage and you feared it would break free and fall into his hands, unsure if the warmth on your cheeks and ump in your throat came from how utterly petrified you were or the way his breath fanned over your face like a whisper.

“your dearest father isn’t who he says he is,” he pouted mockingly, coming to a stop inches in front of you, letting his gaze settle on your quivering lips for a moment, “and me? well, you know what i am. and you also know we can have lots of fun if you allow it.”

your lips parted to speak but no words came out, instead opting to press them into a thin line and squeezing your eyes shut as you shook your head. you weren’t completely sure why you wer shaking your head, but if it would stop the incubus from tainting you, it was worth a try.

“don’t kid yourself, princess. i can smell how wet you are.” as if to emphasise his point, he inhaled deeply, leaning forward to ghost his nose over the slope of your neck without touching you.

it wasn’t until he said it that you notice you had been squeezing your thighs together, feeling warm all over and you stomach twisted in knots at the sound of his deep voice. something ached in your lower regions, but you tried your hardest to resist the thoughts.

but a little voice in the back of your head urged you to tilt your head back, to give him permission, to let his hands explore your untouched body. maybe just this once you could allow yourself to give in, to let your knees go weak and worry about begging for forgiveness later.

“all you have to do is drop the rosary.”

you gripped it tighter at the reminder of the protective object tangled between your fingers, fighting to keep your sanity intact. your breath hitched as you felt one of his fingers run along the beads, not daring to come close to the little silver cross or your skin.

“c’mon, pretty girl. drop it,” you heard the smirk in his voice, “let it go and i’ll take good care of you, i can make you feel things you’ve never thought of… i can make you feel alive, wouldn’t you love that? don’t you want to feel the desire? taste the lust?”

“n-no,” you gasped finally, finding your words, “it’s not right.“

he laughed, a low rumble from his chest, “i promise you’ll love being ruined by me,” he said, withdrawing his hand from yours, “i swear to all your precious little holy symbols, i know i can get you to want me.”

he moved closer and for a maddening moment you thought he was going to kiss you. faintly, you wanted him to. to feel the push of his lips against yours, to let his hands snake around your waist or grip your hips to pull you closer. there’s a ring on his index finger, you noticed, silvery and sharp, a symbol you didn’t recognise yet imagine him pressing it against your throat, branding your neck anew until it’s red and faithful. and maybe you crave for him to undo all the things in you that are holy.

“just drop it, pretty,” his breath teased your lips and you almost leaned forward in curiosity, wanting to see how just one kiss would feel, “i know you’re a good girl.”

those words. they’re almost enough for you to give in. how did he know those would strike a nerve, hit you where he knew it would work? not only did all your efforts ultimately lead to the same goal—purity, goodness—but you couldn’t deny the satisfaction you felt from reassurance. if you were an animal, you’d strive to be the priest’s favourite sacrificial lamb. to hold so very still and to bleed so prettily when the knife final comes down, to be reborn and be chosen all over again.

“don’t you get it?” he whispered, “i live inside you the same way you’re bound to live inside me. we’re a moebius strip, a never ending cycle of a snake eating it’s own tail. maybe it will end in destruction, but that’s your dear father’s doing. mutually assured destruction, maybe; you say yes, i’ll ruin you for everyone else, blacken the wool of your fur coat. you say no to me, i will suffer the consequences of not fulfilling a deal. you wouldn’t want someone to suffer because of you, hm?”

your grip on the rosary loosened and let your eyes finally flutter open. from this proximity, you could see every detail of his face and the image seared into your mind.

something in his eyes darkened as his lips curled, a playful smile, a predatory grin. the way he looked at you made you want to combust into flames, to fall to your knees, you skin rubbed raw on the ground as you beg him to make you feel.

“you don’t look so innocent anymore, you know? you’re docile and sweet, yes, but you’re not as pure as you think you are, there’s a little dirt in your pristine heart, a little lustful stain you can’t erase.”

“y-you’re wrong!” you protested, trying to convince yourself he was lying, “i’m good and i’ve always been good and i always will be good and i will not for the devil’s influence.”

“oh, but i’m not,” he pouted mockingly, moving his head back just an inch, looking down at you, “you’re practically shaking, so close to giving in… you’re the most pious girl here, yet you’re so close to sin, so close to me.”

you opened your mouth to continue your protests but flinched as you heard familiar heavy footsteps, looking up at the little window to see the familiar boots of your father about to enter the house after a long day of work. he was out, casting out malicious spirits and demons, and here you were, about to let one deflower you. the realisation seemingly made you come back to your senses, clenching the roary in your hand once more and looking for a way past him.

but… what would you even do afterwards? confront your father, the town’s devout exorcist, for making deals with the incubus in front of you? would he call you crazy, deny everything and treat you like just another one of his clients?

the footsteps were now above you, you could faintly hear him saying something to your mother though you couldn’t quite make out what it was. you’d never been as afraid of anything as you were of your own father, standing right above you, acting like he hadn’t damned you from the day you were conceived.

as if he could read your thoughts, could sense your panic that was completely unrelated to him, the incubus stepped back. his face was unreadable as his glazed over eyes fixated on you.

“don’t worry, sweet girl, i can wait. the longer you resist, the better it’ll feel when you finally surrender,” he gave you a small smile, different from the previous grins and smirks, as he nodded towards the window, “go.”

you could’ve run away the moment he stepped back, yet you didn’t move until he gave you the permission. you didn’t dwell on that fact as you slipped past him and reached up, shaky hands undoing the latch and opening outwards. you attempted to climb up, your arms burning as you tried lifting yourself, only to give up, panting softly from the effort.

“let me help you.” his voice offered, prompting you to look back at him. the seductive glint in his eyes was no longer there, taking a small step forward. “just… put it down, i promise i’ll help you and leave.”

you stared at him for a long moment. there was something so different in the way he looked at you now, suddenly soft and with good intentions. the voice of your father calling your name snapped you out of your stupor, nodding hurridely as you placed the rosary on the grass outside carefully before turning to look at him.

he gestured for you to turn away, your hands finding your hips as you did. the contact made you breath hitched, despite your layers of clothing between your curves and his hands, your stomach tickled with swarming butterflies as he lifted you up. the heat of his body behind yours distracted you for a moment, taken aback at how real he felt, how human he felt, even as he lifted you with ease.

you braced your forearms on the ground, pulling yourself up the rest of the way as he spoke.

“whisper my name three times, and i’ll be summoned wherever you are, ready to fulfill your needs.”

you stayed quiet for a moment, just sitting on the ground as you looked down at him, now able to see his full face clearning from his proximity to the window. “what’s your name?”

“san,” he smiled, “choi san.”

you loked away, up at your house as your father’s concerned voice called out your name again. “i should get going, but–,” you looked down to thank him, only to find an empty room and a sealed window. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, voiced trailing off, “thank you…”

the first time you touched yourself, it was san you were thinking about.

late at night, your parents fast asleep, a storm ragin outside, but all you could do was think about him. you tried, you really did. you tried to go back in the house and pretend everything was fine, that you had just been on a walk and your flushed face was from the excercise. secretely, all you could think about was him. how you wanted him to show up again—wanted him to make your breath hitch and your heart jump. wanted him to soothe whatever it was that ached inside you; the burn in the pit of your stomach, the spot where your waist met your hips, but most of all between your legs, were it had never ached like this before.

you excused yourself from dinner earlier, went to bed, and tried so desperately to fall asleep. whether it was to forget about it all, or to meet him in your dreams again, you couldn’t tell. you really tried, but haunting thoughts of how his hands held onto you rolled into your mind with images of all the things he could do to you. the raspy lilt of his voice, sometimes soft, sometimes commanding in a way that made your limbs feel like jello at the mere thought of it. his sharp eyes and sharp jaw and such tempting lips. he could have a kind face if he wanted to, yet his toned body, visible and obvious despite trying to hide behind his clothing, screamed sex appeal.

flashes from your previous dreams raced through your mind too. fragments of images where you could feel his hands all over you, his dark hair sticking to his sweat forehead, eyes rolled back from the pleasure he gave himself while you were forced to watch. you never quite gave in in the dreams either.

you tossed and turned in your bed, thighs pressed together so tight you worried you’d have long bruises down your inner thighs the next morning. the new feeling felt much too large for your fragile mind, overwhelming you, making your loose clothes feel suffocating. it wouldn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t let you sleep. mostly because you didn’t want to give the feeling a name, you refused to speak its name, even in your mind, even if it could identify this feeling.

pent-up and strained, coiled into yourself in a foetal position, you could only roll onto your back and let your hand trail down your body, hiking up the long skirt of your nightgown before letting your fingers dip between your thighs, spread at the knees. you let out a shaky gasp as you felt the wetness pooled beneath your undergarments, clamping your other hand over your lips. after feeling around experimentally, your fingers found a quick pace, rubbing over your clit, more desperate than they had ever been. your hand muffled your gasped out moans and whimpers, tears pricking at your eyes—partly from the guilt, mostly from the pleasure. you felt your heart beat all over your body, most of all right below your moistened fingertips.

shaky breaths and muffled needy cries were covered by both your hand and the storm outside your window. if hurts a little, your clit swelling as more and more slick coats it and the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. but you don’t mind the pain, you think you deserve it, because after all, it’s forbidden and it’s not supposed to feel good. san is not supposed to make you feel so good. a demon was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to be on your mind, especially not in this way.

the thought of him made your hand move faster and suddenly your breath was stuttering and your core pulse as you finish quickly, biting down on your lip, hard enough to cut through the skin, to muffle your cries. when you came down from your high, you lay there for a few moments longer, heart racing as you glance at the door to make sure it was still closed. and when you realised what you had just done, shame clouded your lungs as you slipped your fingers out of your panties and raised them to your face.

your hands came away sticky. transparents webs of your pleasure linking your index and middle fingers together as you stared in horror before finally collecting yourself and jumping from your bed to scrub the sin from your hands in your bathroom.

you scrubbed until your fingers turned red and your palms raw, losing sensation from the ice cold water, the guilt sinking deeper and deeper the longer you took to cleanse your body. you hadn’t noticed the tears running down your cheeks until you stared at yourself in the mirror, sniffling and glossy-eyed. your body might be clean, but were you? if you wanted to be immaculate, how could you let yourself do such a thing?

it was his fault, really. him and his midnight eyes and electric touches and words that would drive you to madness, damnation.

you changed your panties and nightgown, burying them in your laundry basket as if you were burying the evidence of a crime. once done, you wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed and fall asleep. but as you stared at what you once thought was comforting, you could only think about your soft whimpers and shaking thighs. so you stripped your bed naked to decorate it anew with clean sheets and blankets and pillows, shoving the previous ones under your bed before finally falling into a deep sleep.

shame followed you like a pest for the next days, unable to properly smile because all you could think about was what you had done. and what you wanted to do. a heavy melancholy washed over you in these days, confining yourself to your room when ou didn’t have to come down for meals. if your parents picked up on it, they didn’t say anything. maybe they knew. what if they know?

maybe they didn’t say anything because they knew about san. perhaps they thought it was fate, that you would give in sooner or later. despite cracking a bit, you stood by your conviction that you wouldn’t, no matter what, summon him.

but… was he really so bad? had you not seen a moment of softness when he helped you? demons were, after all, fallen angels. could it really be so impossible he still had a sprinkle of previous angeilc qualities? silently, you were thankful he hadn’t showed up on his own again. if he did, you were afraid you’d throw away all sense of faith and throw yourself into his arms, let him kiss you and lick you and suck you and bite you and everything in between.

despite all this, despite not wanting to summon him, you couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling weighing you down with each step. it had been there before—before whatever happened in the basement—dragging your seemingly heavy limbs through vacant hallways. but when he touched you, when his fingertips brushed against yours as he touched the shiny black beads of your rosary even though he didn’t mean to, when his hands lifted you into the air and helped you escape, the way he talked to you, his words and tone, that unsettling feeling had been lifted off your shoulders.

you noticed, for a brief moment, when you spent that short amount of time with him, you had no desire to think of god or rules or expectations. even if it was for a split second, it happened, and perhaps that what terrified you the most. just wanted to be, something you hadn’t been allowed for so long.

so when your parents said they’d be out late for some dinner you had no interest in attending, you paced around your room, deep in thought as your typical long nightgown tickled your ankles. millions of thoughts raced through your kind but, at the core, they were all the same. san, san, san. you felt like he had attached himself to your very soul, and you’re not quite sure how it happened.

without thinking, you stopped your pacing, glancing at the crucifix on your bedside table, a reminder. you couldn’t take it anymore, reaching out to take the wooden symbol and hide it in your closet. was it really wrong if it was still there, only trapped behind the wooden double doors, nestled between your skirts and shirts and gowns and gowns? out of sight, you felt less bad about what you were going to do.

your eyes squeezed shut and you did as he told you to, lips parting to whisper his name thrice. almost instantly, a gust of wind blew through your room and you knew there was someone else there with you. your eyes remained shut until you heard footsteps stalking towards you, his familiar voice filling the eerie silence of the room.

“hello, angel,” he grinned, borderline menacing, as he backed you up against your dresser. much like before, you were trapped, the back of your thighs pressed against the wood. only this time, you weren’t afraid, “i knew you’d give in sooner rather than later.”

you didn’t reply, didn’t know how to reply, only breathing shallowly, fingers curling into the edge of your dresser as you glanced from his eyes to his lips repeatedly.

“you need to give me permission, you know,” he chuckled, tilting his head to the side, “there are rules for deals such as these.”

“please.” you breathed, somewhere between a whisper and a needy whine as your round eyes looked up at him so desperately.

as soon as the word left you, his lips were on yours. hungry, devouring you, sucking on your bottom lip like it’s a candy as you can’t help but melt and whimper against him. his hand found your cheek, the touch surprisingly soft compared to the madness of his kisses. your heart rattled against your ribcage like a bird wanting to escape its confines. his saccharine saliva seeped into your mouth as his tongue broke past your lips, running over your teeth and the roof of your mouth as you let him do whatever he wanted.

his hands are all over you and yours are all over him, grabbing at each other because there was no way to get any closer like this. your thoughts, unlike before, are completely quiet, head empty and drunk on the sloppy kisses, mouthfuls of teeth clashing against each other. he was supposed to be gentle, he wanted to be gentle, yet now you’re pressed against the dresser and he’s kissing you hard.

it was wrong, but it felt too good. that was clear from the moment your kisses turn open-mouthed, lips clinging and tongues dancing. you shivered as both his hands held you by your hips once more, lifting you to sit on the edge of the oak furniture, caressing your hips bones through the thin fabric of your dress.

your hands rug at his shirt lightly, a silent plea for him to remove it, wanting to see and feel every inch of his divine body. he complies, separating his lips from your to reach over his shoulder and grip the silky shirt from the back, pulling it over his head, tossing it aside. your hands explore his naked torso, fingernails scratching along his skin as he loses himself in the taste of your kisses.

his hands dragged the long skirt of your gown up your legs, fingers ghosting over the supple skin of your calves and thighs before letting the cloth bunch up at your hips, winding your legs around his waist before lifting you off the dresser. you cling to him the way the thought of him cling to you for so long before this as he carries you. he lays you down gently, your head spinning as he kneeled on the edge of your bed and leaned over you, moving his lips from yours to mouth at your neck.

his hot breaths dance along your skin, across your collarbone, neck, pressing wet kisses down to the fabric covering your chest. you gasped softly as he brushed his teeth against your skin, a reminded that he could really break you if he wanted, but the feel of his lips against the curve of your neck, testing out the waters of your shoulder, made the intimidating thought vanish.

he teases the skin just above your neckline with nibbles that have you throwing your head back with soft whimpers, only encouraging him as his left hand kept one of your legs hitched up against his hips and his right undid the ribbons at the back of your dress. the fabric loosens and slips around, one sleeve falling over your shoulder slightly as he sat you up a little and pulled the dress over your head, discarding it and leaving you in your white ruffled bra and panties.

you’re dizzy, delirious with thirst—for his touch, his kisses, for everything his sharp lips could give you, for him to relieve the ache between your legs. you shiver as you’re left bare, nipples peaking through your bra, undergarments barely hiding your most precious parts. you try covering yourself with shaking arms, despite the little fabric still be there, but his hands move them aside, pulling them to rest on his bare chest. his eyelids flutter for a moment at the contact, your hands so much colder than his.

he leans back to look at your, hand at your back winding around to massage a handful of one breast, watching your breath hitch. “such a pretty girl, and all for me.”

“san…” you whimper aimlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“such an angel,” he teases again, thumb circling over your clothed nipple lightly, grinning at how helpless you looked, “supposedly protected by your father, by god, yet here you are, practically begging for a demon to fuck you.”

he presses himself closer and you can feel the thick and heavy weight of his cock smudge against your core, gasping softly as you eyes roll back, his tip prodding against the fabric covering your sensitive clit. his name falls from your lips once again, like a softly uttered prayer as you back arches. he takes the opportunity to undo the clasp of your bra, slipping the item off you before continuing to tease your perked nipples, leaning down to lick and suck at them as his hips grind against yours. you weren’t sure when he took off his pants, but you didn’t quite care, not when his impressive girth covered your core so well. sometimes the tip would dip into your entrance before leaving just as quickly, your toes curling as it stretched you and your panties.

he moans into your neck, grinding against you at just the right pace, his precum smearing all over you already-drenched panties. the feeling of his tip prodding at you clit so continuously makes you come quickly, and much harder than the other night when you touched yourself. you writhe beneath him, shaking and crying out his name as your back arches from the bed.

“hm, you’re so much prettier like this, angel, succumbing and throwing away any desire of virtue,” he mutters against your jaw, having sucked dark marks onto the skin right below it, his deep melodic voice.

angel. the way he calls you that makes you shiver. how could he do that? call you an angel while plucking out the feathers of the wings you’d once had?

when he enters you, it’s slow and deliberate, leaning down to whisper into your ear as he presses your hands into the white mattress—”heaven itself could not make you feel like this.”

“i’ve never… you know…” you had admitted shyly once you came down from the first orgasm he coaxed out of you.

he only chuckled, caressing your cheek. “i know. virgins always smell the sweetest.”

you pleaded for him to be gentle, and how could he say no when you were begging so prettily? now his length is barely halfway inside you and you’re already shaking, drenched and deprived pussy squeezing him tightly as he swallows down your broken moans, holding back him own. you feel abnormally good to him, unable to remember the last time he fucked such a perfect pussy.

as he reaches previously untouched parts of you, his tip brushes against a spongey little area that has you clenching, your breath hitching followed by a gasped moan as you come again. stars flood your vision, feeling like your body was on fire as your hands tightened under his. his tongue licks up every one of your sounds, smothering you as he pulled back a bit to press against the spot some more.

your moans soon turn into soft whines, twitching from overstimulation before he fially continues to enter you. it’s a tight fit, but he bottoms out eventually.

“fuck- you take me so well, you’re so perfect.” he groans, looking down at where he can see his tip bulging through your stomach.

you never imagined just how full you would feel, the stretch burning yet somehow still pleasurable as you squirm beneath him. he doesn’t wait, retracting and fucking into you slowly, letting you feel every curve and vein of his perfect cock.

he loses track, but he thinks he’s made you finish 4 times already. he’s not surprised, virginity leaves most people sensitive, and the fact he’s been teasing you in and out of your dreams for months likely didn’t help. san revels in it though, basks in the sounds you try to hold back so desperately. he isn’t lying when he says you’re pretty, hypnotised by your face contorted in pleasure and your body, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. they somehow still have an innocent glint in them, even as he manoeuvres you into different positions before finally easing you into your back once more.

you arousal is smeared all over yourself and him and the bedsheets. clear and sticky, glistening in the candlelight. at some point he slipped out of you to lean down and have a taste, groaning as you mewed above him. when his teeth grazed your abuser clit, you finish once again and a moment later he’s back inside you.

eventually, his hips stutter and a newfound pace takes over. “shit, angel, i’m gonna fill you up so good. would you like that?”

you can only nod frantically, brain turned to mush, jaw dropped to let out your lazy whimpers. you’ve lost track of everything but him; his touch, his voice, his influence. if you parents walked in or he disappeared, you’d only be able to lay there, completely helpless.

he never really stops, taking his time to worship your tight hole, knowing he’ll only be able to stop when he comes. though, by the looks of it, it’ll be sooner rather than later.

his groans and moans sound blissful in your ears, holding your name between his teeth with a low whimper. he spills his tick warm cum into you, the new sensation making you shake and squirm as you feel your insides being filled. another orgasm washed over you, though a little weaker, drunk on his scent and his saliva and him him him.

he kisses you, bruisingly, slipping out of yoh and letting you feel his seed seep out of your hole and run down your thighs, pussy coated in milky white. he slumps against you, detaching his lips from yours to gaze down at your barely open eyes.

it’s tiring, you can’t deny that, but it just feels so good. all your disgusting, fucked up thoughts were because of him. and now your most intimate parts will always be tainted by his hands. he calls you ‘good girl,’ yet you know you’ll never be good again.

choi san: voice like silk, touch like satin, incubus, demon. you’d think demons kill people, but your purity was his only homicide. he murdered your virginity. murderer.

but you do wish for him to kiss you again.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

fic taglist. @ta3baee @juyofans @sourkimchi @desirehorizon @revepixy @yungilia @cntlyv @mcendpoet @kimseungminsprincess @cookiechristie @bluesunpurplestar1117 @vnessalau @k1ttym0nkey @kyeomooniee @aarzoo-2 @pinkgirly-18-blog @yourfatherlucifer @puddingjongho @futuresoffantasies @reallywingedland @spenceatiny18 @im-def-not-ok @hwapou @a1sh1teruu @lover-ofallthingspretty @arabelleum @hoshiseon @guggu6gvai @seongsbf @honggatito @deltamoon666 @yunhoszn @1-800-fuccthisshit

[triptuckers]

keep the nightmares away - percy jackson

Request: nope Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings:  mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count:  1.5K A/N:  yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!

you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.

everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.

'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'

percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.

'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'

'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'

'thank the gods.' you mutter.

you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.

you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.

you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.

'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.

if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.

when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.

after a few minutes she returns with two keys.

'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.

'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'

you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.

'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'

'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.

you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.

'sorry.' you mutter.

'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.

you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.

'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'

yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.

you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.

'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.

you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.

'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.

you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.

'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.

you sigh. 'fine.'

'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'

'thanks, perce.'

percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.

he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.

when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.

he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.

'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.

'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'

you frown. 'first shift?'

'sleeping in the bed.'

'where will you sleep?'

'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'

you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.

sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.

percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.

'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.

'alright.' says percy.

there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.

'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'

'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.

you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.

'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'

'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.

it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?

after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.

he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.

but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.

it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.

'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?

but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.

he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.

but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.

you're having a nightmare.

a bad one, by the looks of it.

gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.

'hey, wake up.'

in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.

you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.

'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.

his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.

'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.

'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.

'no I'm fine.'

'talking mostly helps me.'

you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.

'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'

'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.

'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.

'shit, I'm sorry.'

'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'

'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'

'yeah, I can try.'

the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.

'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.

'yeah?'

'is it okay if I...?'

wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.

'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.

'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.

you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

[watchmegetobsessed]

BEHIND BARS

A/N: this fic is my coping mechanism with my own shit and im more than eager to read your thoughts, because it would help me knowing im not alone with these thoughts. so this one goes out to all the big girlies who struggle with loving themselves!

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: You get stood up by your Tinder date, but at the same time you run into a man who works at the bar and seems to be into you. Or that's what you think when you read his message he wrote to your receipt, asking you to return to the bar the next day.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You harbor the delusional thoughts of your date getting caught up in something… anything, just a tad more, just so that the heartache comes a few moments later. It stings, probably more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but you can’t help it. 

Sitting on the barstool in the dimly lit bar you glue your eyes onto your pornstar martini, the second you’ve had since arriving an hour and about five ‘Where are you?’ texts to Brannon before. All of them sit delivered but unread in your messages. You reach for the glass and finish the drink in two big gulps, the alcohol bringing an almost numbing sensation to your closed up throat, but it fades rather fast. 

What hurts the most is that this is not a first date. He met you just three days ago on the coffee date you two arranged once you were over just exchanging messages on that awful dating app you always swear to never download again but end up back on it at one point. It’s not like he would have walked in tonight and could have a shock about your looks, that you do in fact have quite some extra weight, your thighs are thick, curving into your ass that might look good on a better day, but only if it’s covered, because every time you look at it the only thing you see is the stubborn cellulite you can never get rid of. He saw that you’re miles away from having a flat stomach, you weren’t blessed to be the kind of big girl who has a slim waist and beautiful round waist. You often stop in front of the mirror to assess how big your arms look if you wear something sleeveless, how your collarbones only show if you put your hands to your hips and force your shoulders forward to bring them out. 

He saw all of these. Yet he suggested meeting again, pulling you into a ridiculous dream that he might be different and you could finally have the burning, passionate love you’ve always dreamed about.

Now it feels more like a nightmare. 

“Another one?” 

The bartender appears in front of you, one hand on the counter, the other one on his hip as he looks at you with a questioning look. You glance up at him, then at the empty glass and decide to just fuck it and get drunk before going home and raging your fridge for whatever comfort food you can find. 

“Sure. Bring a shot as well.”

“Vodka, tequila, rum or…?”

“Vodka sounds fantastic,” you breathe out as you square your shoulders and run a hand through your hair.

The guy nods and then disappears again. While he is making your drink you decide to have a trip to the bathroom. You wave at the bartender to let him know you’ll be back and when he nods you make your way to the back. 

You chose the bar for tonight, it’s a nice place, feels intimate and… hot, maybe that’s the word you used when you were here with your girlfriends a few weeks ago. It was the perfect spot for a girly night, but the vibe of the place definitely doesn’t limit it to a strictly feminine spot. There were plenty of men around even then and one mysterious man sent over a whole round of drinks, he remained unknown but he was probably enamored by one of your friends.

You were convinced Brannon would like this place and you could see the two of you curled up in a booth, finally overstepping the awkwardness of being around someone you met online. 

Once you’ve done your business you stop in front of the massive mirror next to the sink and have a moment to look at yourself in the overhead lights that bring out everything about your body that you usually fight hard not to think about. You hate it how one inconvenience can make you feel so… ashamed. Hopeless. Worthless. 

Truth is, you’re tired. You’ve had enough of these experiences, though it’s only your second time getting stood up, but it goes under the same cases of going completely unnoticed by men in a social setting, ending up instantly in the friendzone no matter what you do, getting the talk of ‘but I see you as a great friend, I hope we can stay friends’ whenever you dare to come clean about your feelings for someone. It sucks the life out of you and you’re not sure if you have any more left to keep trying. Because the chance of ending up alone anyway has been looming over your head for way too long to ignore it and if it ends up being your reality, you’d rather not waste any more time and energy on trying. 

When the tears start stinging your eyes you turn on your heels and head out, not wanting to have a full blown breakdown in the middle of a bar. Stepping out to the hallway you’re just about to march back to your previous spot to chug down your drinks shamelessly, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside the door, so you collide into someone just as your heels hit the carpeted floor outside the restroom. 

It’s not at all the gracious kind of collision, where the man scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest to stop you from falling. Out of reflex, your hands do find the guy’s chest, but you push yourself away from him fast and panicked, your back hitting the door that just closed behind you and you’d bet a good amount that your expression reeks of shock and the sadness from previously, which is not a gracious combination. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you exhale sharply as your eyes take in the man in front of you. 

Tall, well-built in a black, fitted suit with a black silky shirt underneath the jacket, the first few buttons are left undone, teasing a glimpse of tattoos and a thin necklace with pendants hidden from your vision. His brown hair is trimmed, but not enough to conceal how the strands curl and swirl. Pink lips curl into a smile and you can’t decide the color of his eyes because it’s too dark here, but they appear to be light, even despite how big his pupils are as he is staring back at you. He is holding up his hands in front of him, as if he is readying himself to catch you if you decide to fall anyway. 

“In a hurry?” he asks and his velvety british accent caresses your ears. You blink at him for a couple of moments dumbly before finding your voice to reply.

“No,” is all you say, to which his smile just widens and you catch his eyes dip down, running along your body before they return to your gaze. 

“Be careful then, Angel.”

“Sorry,” you breathe out, finding your balance again as you’re unable to look away from him. 

He is the kind of man that catches every female’s attention upon walking into a room, who could easily just cherry pick who he wants, because women line up in front of him just to earn a glance from him. He looks elegant and lively at the same time, but you instantly feel a sense of mystery and darkness linger around them even despite his warm smile. He is nothing like the men you ever dealt with and he is… way out of your league. 

Lifting your chin you spare him with one last look before walking away, fighting the urge to look back if he is still there or maybe you just imagined him. 

Your drinks are already waiting for you by your seat and you down the shot before you could climb back to your seat. Given the fact that you came with an empty stomach, the alcohol has started working its wonders on you. You feel a low buzz in your chest, a slight numbness in your head and you know the martini in front of you will be your last drink if you want to make it back to your place. 

Your thoughts are still circling around the man in the hallway when you spot him again from the corner of your eyes. Down at the end of the bar, he is talking to the bartender who’s been serving you. His jacket is gone, so you see the silky shirt hanging elegantly from his frame, the fabric shimmering in the light that comes from behind the bar, illuminating the wall of expensive bottles showcased. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing that his left arm is heavily tattooed, but the other one has something as well, but half of it is hidden underneath the shirt. 

He is helping the bartender unload some bottles into the fridge that’s underneath the counter as the talk. When they are down to the last one he stands up and runs a ring-clad hand through his hair and his eyes move up and catch your gaze before you could look away and pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Your cheeks burn up right away as you snap your eyes back at your drink in front of you. With silent prayers that he won’t come closer, you busy yourself with the only thing you can do: drinking. But just as you lift the glass to your lips you see a black form walk up to where you’re sitting and you can’t stop yourself from looking up at him. 

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks with a charming smile, his hands planted onto the counter in front of you, giving you the chance to see the veins running underneath his smooth skin and for a split second you can’t help but imagine what it might feel like to be held by those hands. 

“Um, no, I’m good. Thank you.”

“Good,” he repeats, but it drips with something else, something more, something… heavy. “Waiting for someone?”

His question came out of the blue, you weren’t expecting him to strike up a conversation and start it with that. Your muscles tense and suddenly, after being so drawn to keep looking at the man in front of you, it becomes your priority to avoid his gaze at all cost. 

“No,” you say shortly and take a sip, no, a gulp from your drink. 

What you don’t see is how his face darkens. The smile fades and his eyebrows draw together as he lets his hands fall from the counter and move to cross over his chest. 

You expect him to move away from the rather tensed and awkward scene, but he remains standing in the same spot until you notice him turn around, but just to grab two shot glasses, he fills them up with something that could easily be vodka again, but you wouldn’t know because you don’t see the glass he pours from. Then he turns around and places the shots onto the counter, pushing one a little closer to you. When you look up, you see his head a bit tilted, waiting with a questioning look and an unknown sparkle in his eyes that are green, now you’re sure. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t… Um…”

“Just this one. As an apology on behalf of the piece of shit who is too blind and idiotic to see what he missed out on.”

Your breath is caught in your throat as you stare back at him. For a second, you let yourself believe that there’s more behind his words, that there’s attraction, lust and desire. For you.

But then your usual mechanism kicks in and your mind is quick to turn it around and convince you it’s not at all like that. He just feels sorry for you, it’s only pity, because a man like him would never be interested in a woman like you. 

“Sure,” you whisper with a nod and take the shot. He takes his and holds up, waits for you to do the same. 

Then he gives you a nod with a charming, crooked smile and your eyes remain locked on each other as you both take the shots. It’s vodka and it burns, but you don’t even flinch as you put the glass back onto the counter and watch him snatch it away. He is just about to say something when the bartender calls out for him from the end of the bar, but because you weren’t listening, you miss what his name is. He looks back at you once more and then walks away. 

You don’t see him for the rest of the time you spend there. Finishing the drink you ask to close your tab and then you’re getting ready to leave when the bartender slips the receipt over to you. At first you don’t even pay any attention to it, but then you notice something is different about it. You grab it from the counter and then read the words scribbled onto it with a black marker.

Please come back tomorrow.

You feel like an idiot all day. Trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning and cooking, no matter what you do you always find yourself looking at that damn receipt, reading the words over and over again. Since you left the bar yesterday until this moment, you’ve thought of every possible scenario why he would ask you to return. Realistic ones, ridiculous versions, you thought of them all, but somehow you always ended up settling on the same one, even despite the fact your mind has been fighting hard not to let you believe he could want anything from you. 

It grinds your nerves all day until you decide to act on it. You put on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt with your trusty sneakers, nothing extra, very far from looking fancy and then head back to the bar before you could talk yourself out of it. 

It’s the afternoon on a Sunday, it’s no surprise the place is deserted when you walk in, only a handful of people are lingering around here and there in contrast to the buzz it had yesterday. You try your best to settle the uneasy feeling in your gut as you walk up to the bar. There’s a woman standing behind this time who you didn’t see last night. She’s drying glasses with a cloth since there’s not much to do without anyone sitting on the stools. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks with a bright smile as you walk up to her. 

“Um, I was wondering if the guy who worked last night was working today? Brown hair, tattoos… I don’t… know his name.”

It’s an understatement to say you feel awkward asking around about the guy even though he practically asked you to come back. At least he could have given you his name to avoid appearing like a stalker. 

The woman furrows her eyebrows as she purses her lips, tilting her head.

“I swear I’m not here to make a scene or anything,” you add with a nervous laugh. 

“Ah, I was just thinking. Because I know for a fact that Nico was working last night, but he for sure has no tattoos.”

You swear you saw the tattoos on his chest and arms, you did not just imagine those, but now you’re doubting yourself.

“He, uhh, he wore, like, a black suit and a black, silky shirt… Rings…” This is as far as you can go describing him without adding details you’d rather keep to yourself. Like how his hands looked delicate but rough at the same time, the way his lips curled when he smiled could push all the air out of your lungs and his smooth, velvety voice was like you were wrapped into a warm, soft blanket whenever he talked.

Luckily, you see her face light up at the last few details you just said.

“Oh! You must be…” She doesn’t finish it, just lets her smile stretch wide as she squares her shoulder. “Let me grab him for you,” she then winks and before you could get another word out, she disappears. 

Laying your hands flat on the bar top you start drumming nervously as you wait. A thought flashes through your mind that it was a mistake coming here, trying to convince you to just leave before it’s too late, but you fight it and shove it to the back of your head, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you pull your hands back and start rubbing your palms against your thighs. 

A few seconds later the woman appears from the back with the same wide smile and just when you start to think the man is not here, he follows her out, turning your sanity upside down with just a simple look. 

He is wearing a black t-shirt this time, short sleeved, putting his previously mentioned tattoos on perfect display. The shirt is tucked into a pair of gray dress pants that hug his waist so well, you’re drawn to stare at his body for a few moments as he moves closer behind the bar. 

The bartender woman passes you while the man stops in front of you, a cheeky, but genuine smile tugging on his lips as he leans onto the counter just like how he did yesterday, only this time you see his muscles flex from the movement thanks to the short sleeves. 

“What a pleasure to welcome you back.”

Your knees threaten to give up for a second from hearing his voice again, as if it’s proof that you didn’t just make him up last night, he is not just a mirage. 

Reaching into your purse you pull the receipt out and slide it over to him. 

“You invited me back.”

“I did,” he nods, not even glancing down at the piece of paper, like he doesn’t need to be reminded of what he did. “But I didn’t know you’d actually return.”

Unsure what to say, you allow yourself to assess him, take in his perfectly carved features, the unruly curls, the rings adorning his inviting hands. If you were on your own, just looking at a picture of him, you’d definitely tell yourself it’s too good to be true that a man like him would ever pay you any attention. But having him standing in front of you, feel his burning gaze on you, this magnetic pull that vibrates from him, you’re battling yourself harder than ever.

“I was curious,” you admit at last. 

“Then I’m happy to satisfy your curiosity. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the booths by the wall.

“Won’t you get into trouble?” you ask, but he just gives you a toothy smile as he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about that, Angel. Go ahead and sit, I’ll make us a drink.”

Once you’re turned away and walking towards a booth you let out a long, shaky breath. 

“Get a grip,” you tell yourself as you slide into the booth and try to get comfortable. It’s frustrating a man could have an effect this powerful on you after barely even talking to him. What kind of black magic is he practicing?

A few minutes later you see him walking over to you with two drinks in his hands. One is obviously a pornstar martini for you, the other one you don’t know. It’s in a simple, short glass, one big cube of ice, the drink itself is a nice amber color, you spot a curl of orange peel and some fresh rosemary in it. 

He slips into the booth with ease and moves closer to you than you expected as he places the drinks to the table. 

“Might be best if we started with our names,” he suggests. “I’m Harry.” 

His name rolls off his tongue so ravishingly, you have to stop yourself from repeating after him. He holds out a hand for you that you take. Your skin starts tingling the moment it meets with his warm touch.

“Y/N.”

“Such a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he nods, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it go. 

While you feel a bit awkward, trying to find a way to sit beside him, it appears he is quick to find his place, crossing one leg over the other, his arm closer to you is stretched over the back of the booth, his hand falling somewhere behind you, but it’s not touching you. His other hand is gently playing with his drink, twirling it between his fingers. 

“I know it’s probably not the best thing to start with, but I just have to ask. Last night, were you stood up?”

All your blood rushes to your head and your palms start sweating as you turn your head away embarrassed. You’ve been so caught up in him that you kind of forgot about what Brannon did. 

“Yes,” you whisper, hands dropping into your lap as you nervously fidget with your fingers.

The hand that’s been behind you moves to the side of your face, his knuckles gently brushing across your cheek, just enough to make you turn your head and look at him. 

“Don’t even think for a moment his behavior lessens your worth.”

“I’m not so sure if there’s any left of that to lessen.”

The words leave your mouth before you could even think them through, surprising you with their bluntness. You’re not one to share such personal thoughts with a stranger, not even your closest friends. 

Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression and you half expect him to just let it slip and not acknowledge what you said. But he sticks to that in a way you never experienced.

“I would give an arm to have the chance to show how much I see just after spending only minutes with you.”

You’re speechless and from the hidden smile you notice in the corners of his mouth you assume he finds it entertaining, witnessing the effect he has on you. He grabs his drink from the table and you watch him lazily take a sip before placing it back and leaning forward, getting closer to you, but still not quite crossing an invisible line between the two of you. 

“Y/N, I know this is very straight-forward and I’m aware that we are very much just strangers at this point, but I’m more than eager to change that.”

“Why?” you hear yourself asking in an airy, weak voice. “Because you’re sorry for me?”

Now it’s his turn to be taken aback. The way he frowns almost makes you want to apologize even for asking. 

“Sorry is the last thing I’m feeling right now. And it wasn’t what I felt when you bumped into me last night or when I wrote that message to your receipt. Or… when I sent over that round of drinks to you and your friends not long ago.”

“You what?”

“You were here, maybe a few weeks ago, with your friends, right?”

“I-I was, but…”

“The round of drinks. I sent it.”

“Why?” you ask again and notice the amusement in his look.

“The same reason I wanted you to return today. Because take my breath away and I never give up on the chance to get to know whoever has that effect on me.”

You stare back at him blankly, a million thoughts racing in your head while also not able to put together a coherent one. It is everything you ever wished to experience, but it also feels incredibly odd and… wrong. 

“What kind of twisted game is it you’re playing?”

Harry furrows his eyebrows slightly.

“None. Why are you questioning my intentions so passionately?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you say with a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grab your drink and take two gulps, hoping the alcohol might help you untangle the mess in your head. 

“How is my interest in you ridiculous?”

“Because it is. You cannot sell me that you spotted me among my friends last time, that I was the one who caught your attention and that when you saw me last night again you just had to take your chance to lure me here again so you could talk to me. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

He stays silent and you don’t look at him for a bit, trying to calm your rocketing pulse. But his silence starts to drive you mad again, so you turn to face him and see that unreadable expression on his face again. 

“You’re invalidating my attraction just because you haven’t received it before.” 

It’s like he is reading you like you’re an open book, he looks at you and you can feel him raiding through your mind and you can do nothing against it. 

“It’s actually sad but also exciting to be the first one to give it to you.”

“But why me?” you keep pushing.

“Why do you like pornstar martini?” he asks with a cheeky smile and you decide to ignore how erotic that sounded from him. 

“What?”

“You choose it because you like it, yeah? Why?”

“Because… I don’t know, it tastes… good,” you answer, complete confusion taking over you. 

“See, that is why you. I don’t know it just yet, but I just know that…” He doesn’t finish, but you can hear the rest.

I just know you taste good.

The all too familiar pulse between your legs is making you cross your legs underneath the table, but Harry catches the movement and his grin grows wide, but he doesn’t comment on it, just takes a sip of his drink. 

“We took it very intensely quite suddenly. Let’s just talk and we can return to this matter a bit later,” he suggests then softly, losing that tiny cockiness from his voice for now. “What is there to know about you, Y/N?”

You need a bit of time to recover and actually start telling him about yourself. He asks you about your job, your family, your hobbies, what you like and what you hate, all while giving you his full, undivided attention. Even though he has made it clear he is interested in you, somehow you end up taking the situation with even more caution than usually, but slowly and almost unnoticed, it eases from your gut. 

“Now it’s your turn,” you say, once you’ve had enough of talking about yourself. Just as he is about to start talking, the bartender shows up at the table and you’re convinced she’ll ask him to go back to work. 

“Boss, the supplier was on the phone, they need confirmation until tomorrow morning.”

Boss? 

“Thanks Jenny,” Harry smiles up at her warmly. “I’ll take care of it.” The bartender, Jenny as you learned, nods and then disappears. When Harry looks back at you, it’s apparent he was expecting the questioning look from you. 

“Boss? Did I hear that right?”

“Absolutely did,” he chuckles. 

“So you’re…”

“I won this place. Along with another one downtown and two more over on the West coast.”

You click your tongue as you turn away to have a look around, though you’ve examined the place enough before. It’s not the kind that screams ‘this is my first business, it’s doing fairly well’, but rather one that screams wealth and business. The bar itself is definitely high end, but it’s also connected to the hotel above, so it drives in some great traffic from there as well and of course, it’s a five star hotel, so the guests are usually not the kind who shies away from paying for a nice drink. Adding just the thought of three more places similar to this to the picture is just plainly mind-blowing to you.

And yet, just minutes ago you were convinced he’s a bartender here. 

“You knew I thought you were staff when I asked if you’d get into trouble.” Harry nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because that would have immensely changed the dynamic.”

“No, I–”

“Yes,” he fights back with a meaningful look. “You had a hard time believing I could be interested in you when you thought I was a bartender here. Had you known I owned this place you would have never let go of the power imbalance that comes with the judgment of my position in my business.”

You want to protest, but you can’t. Because you know it well that he is actually right. 

To ease the sudden change in the mood, Harry starts talking about himself and the business as he can tell you’re curious how he ended up as the boss. He tells you how it all started in college, he and a few of his friends came up with the idea of opening a bar and once they graduated he and the one remaining friend who was still into the idea decided to act on it. Niall, the friend, earned a great amount of money from his trust fund after graduation, which they used to the last cent to open the place ten years ago. Feeling guilty that he couldn’t bring as much money into the business in the beginning, Harry tried to make up for it by working twice as hard. As time passed and they opened the second place three years later, Niall started to wander to different fields and only remained a silent partner in the business, letting Harry take over fully. The expansion on the West coast happened just two years ago, but they are already thinking about the next location.

“Are you still friends?” you ask him.

“With Niall? Yes, absolutely. He has his own company in IT security that he actually started from the money of this business. It’s more his world than this now, but we try to meet at least every month when we are in the same city. And I still need his signature on some stuff,” he adds with a chuckle. 

“That’s great it didn’t ruin your friendship. Working together can be risky.”

“I know. We had our ups and downs for sure, but nothing we couldn’t talk through.”

It was amazing to see him talk about it so profound and passionately. It makes him so… humane. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out, he sighs quietly. He ignores the call, but when he looks at you again you know he has to go.

“Y/N, we need to revisit what we talked about earlier, because I have to go soon.”

Your cheeks heat up instantly as you roll your lips into your mouth. 

“What about it?”

“Most importantly we need to talk about when we can meet again.”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes and can’t hold back a smile when you see his cheeky grin as he sits turned towards you, his upper body angled to face you completely. 

“The most convenient would be tomorrow,” he adds shamelessly.

“So soon?”

“I wanted to say I would love to see you in about three hours when we close, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager.”

That makes you laugh and Harry gifts you with a proud, crooked smile.

“Are you sick of this place?”

“Why?”

“Because you could come here tomorrow and I could teach you how to make your drink,” he says, nodding towards your now empty glass. You actually love the idea of that, doing something new in a not so new setting. 

“I can be here by seven.”

“I’ll be waiting for you behind the bar.”

You have never been this eager to put down work at five finally. It doesn’t matter that you still have a few unanswered emails in your inbox, you decide they can wait until tomorrow. 

You haven’t stopped thinking about Harry since you left the bar yesterday. You can’t even remember the last time you were like this, probably in high school when you had a crush in junior year. It’s ridiculous, honestly, but it’s also quite exciting. 

You walk into the bar for the third time in the past three days. You would have guessed that a Monday evening would be just as eventful as Sunday, but apparently a lot of people like to go out for drinks on the first day of the week. It’s not like on Saturday, but about half of the tables are taken. Crossing the place you’re heading straight to the bar, searching for one particular tall figure, but you don’t see him. 

Nico, the bartender from Saturday, is on shift again, though as you reach the bar he doesn’t seem to recognize you. 

“Hi, what can I get you?”

You’re just about to ask him to tell Harry that you arrived when the familiar, velvety voice speaks up right behind you. 

“I have the lady covered, thanks Nico.”

Turning around you’re met with Harry’s warm but cheeky smile as he stands just a couple of feet away from you. Today he is wearing a pair of black dress pants with a black long sleeve, but the sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. There’s a light stubble darkening his jawline, he surely skipped shaving this morning, but you’re not mad about it, it adds a bit of roughness to him. 

“Welcome back, Y/N,” he nods at you.

“Hi,” is all you manage to push out of yourself. He is very much aware of your nervousness, but it just widens his smile. 

“Ready to master the pornstar martini?” he asks as he steps closer and places a hand to the small of your back to usher you behind the bar. 

“Absolutely.”

The two of you settle at the end of the bar so you’re not disturbing the actual service with your little scene. Harry hands you a black apron and he puts one on himself as well after helping you tie yours behind your back. Then the learning starts.

Harry is actually a great bartender himself. As he gathers everything you need for the drink, he tells you how he learned to bartend after opening the place. They had a few times when they fell short on staff and he needed to serve, so he figured it’s best if he just learns it fully rather than just clumsily mixing up the drinks whenever help is needed. 

“What’s your favorite to make?” you ask as you’re cutting the passion fruit in two on a cutting board and Harry examines your every move like a good mentor.

“I think it’s Rum Martinez.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s a Japanese cocktail, pretty smoky and kind of complicated to make. I’ve had it twice, it was always served with a cigar. I only made it once though, but it was fun.”

Harry truly meant it when he said you’d learn how to make your drink. He doesn’t touch anything in the mixing process, only instructs you, clear and patiently as you add the right amounts into the shaker. When you put the top of the shaker on however, he moves behind you and as his arms come round you to grab the shaker along with you, for a few seconds you definitely forget to breathe. 

This close you can smell his cologne, the warmth of his body is melting you against him and when you lean back just the slightest bit he pushes forward to tighten the physical connection between the two of you. 

“Alright. Now, this is how you shake it properly,” he murmurs, his face right next to yours as his hands cover yours on the shaker. 

You let him take the lead as he starts shaking, his warm palms holding your hand against the cool shaker, moving it up and down, left and right in a controlled, rhythmic way. He is giving it quite the force, you feel the ice inside tumble harshly as you keep shaking. 

“Okay, now take the cap off.”

He lets go of the shaker, but remains standing behind you as he instructs you. You do as he said and he reaches past you to bring the glass closer for you. 

“Carefully, but with confidence” he murmurs, one hand moving to cover yours when you start pouring, but too slowly, so he helps you to tilt the right amount. The beautiful yellow liqueur fills up the glass with a perfect layer of foam on top. 

“And finally, the passion fruit.”

He points at the fruit on the cutting board and you take one half, gently dropping it into the middle and watch as it stays afloat with pride. 

“There. You just made your first pornstar martini.”

Harry steps away from behind you and you almost protest, eager to feel his warmth behind you as he comes into your view again, watching you bring the drink to your lips. You take a sip and once you taste it, you can’t hold your smile back.

“It’s amazing.”

“All yours,” he dips his head a bit with a bright smile and you can’t look away from his sparkling eyes. 

The foam of the drink sticks to your upper lip so when you put the glass down you run your tongue over, licking it off and you catch him watching your mouth with obvious hunger, as if he is ready to have a taste from the cocktail, but only from your lips. 

The moment burns and you feel it deep in your chest. Almost unnoticed, you both inch closer and you feel an irresistible pull towards him. Your heart is drumming in your throat and the muscles in your torso tense even at just the thought of kissing him. 

But right when you are about to cross the line Nico’s curse pops your bubble and Harry’s head whips around in alert.

“Shit!” you see Nico jump back from the counter, one hand wrapped around the other, a cutting board with lemons and a knife left behind.

“What happened?” Harry asks, grabbing a rag as he steps closer to assess the situation.

“I wasn’t paying attention and cut my finger,” Nico hisses and you step closer just in time to see him showing the cut. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s bleeding quite heavily.

“Go and clean it out. I’ll cover the bar.”

Nico mumbles a quick thanks as he rushes back before he could bleed on anything behind the bar. Just as he exits, two women walk up to Harry, who switches into bartender mode pretty fast. He gives you a quick ‘I’m sorry’ glance as he takes their order and starts mixing up their drinks. You just give him a reassuring smile and focus on your drink, patiently waiting. 

At first you don’t even pay attention to the conversation the two women strike up with him. But as Harry starts serving a man who walked up to the bar after them you notice how they stayed there and it makes you wonder so you turn your attention to their sugar coated voices. 

“Oh, then we feel honored to be served by the big boss,” the blonde one chuckles, leaning forward just enough so that his shirt tugs down, teasing the view of her cleavage. 

“Just… helping in,” Harry gives a tight-lipped smile, barely even glancing at her as he makes the cocktail. 

“See, I told you it'll be worth coming here on a Monday,” the other one giggles as she gently sways to the soft music that’s playing through the speakers. 

It’s a sight that’s an easy trigger for you. They did nothing wrong other than flirting with a man they find attractive. And you know Harry barely even acknowledged their efforts, but still, it was enough to let that evil little voice out of its cage in the back of your mind. 

They are gorgeous and you’re nothing like them. They are thin and looking around you already see a dozen men looking at them. You can never be like them. 

Deep down you know these thoughts are worthless, but once they take over it’s hard to fight them, to see yourself in a better light. Not when you’ve struggled with this for so long and spent long years to convince yourself it’s all that matters. 

There’s nothing left of the free spirit you were just minutes ago. When this happens you simply close off and want to disappear as fast as possible. For a moment you think of just leaving while Harry is not paying attention, but you’d hate to walk out on him like that so you stay there, trying to take up as little space as physically possible as you finish your drink. 

Nico soon comes back, his left ring finger bandaged up, ready to get back to work, which means Harry is free from bar duty again. He doesn’t hesitate to walk away from the two women and return to you, but you’ve let your spiraling thoughts win by now.

He notices something is wrong the moment he sees you avoid looking into his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, dipping his head to try to get you to look at him. 

“Nothing,” you shake your head, but it’s a weak attempt to mask just how uncomfortable you’re feeling.

“Y/N, I know that’s not true. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” you push, then take a deep breath to help you swallow the bitterness in your mouth. 

There’s a few seconds of pause when you’re convinced he’ll say to end the date and then you already see yourself never coming here to avoid ever running into him. The voice in the back of your mind is already working hard to convince you it’s for the best, that it would have never worked, you’re way too different and sooner or later he would see you the way you see yourself. 

But it never happens. Instead, he silently packs away everything you used for the cocktail and when he’s done, he gently takes your hand and starts to pull you towards the door that leads out to the hotel’s lobby. Confused, but curious, you follow him and don’t say a word until the two of you stop at the elevators.

“Harry, where are we going?”

“Up. To my suite.”

“You have a suite here?”

“I do. Comes with the perks of owning the bar that’s part of the hotel.” 

His hand is still holding yours, warm and gentle, but still confident, especially when he tightens his hold as the elevator arrives and he pulls you inside, pushing the button of the 18th floor. He doesn’t let go of you as the elevator starts moving, you just stand there next to each other without a word until it arrives and the doors slide open. 

Harry once again pulls you with him, striding down the carpeted hallway to the door with the number 1804 next to it. He fishes out a card from his pocket and taps it against the lock that clicks silently, letting him open the door and that’s when his hand falls from yours, letting you walk in first as he holds the door open for you. 

You haven’t been to a hotel this elegant, not as a guest at least. You’ve attended a few conferences but you could only see the lobby and the conference rooms during those, not the rooms or in this case, the suites. 

You walk into a spacious living room  with a minibar, dark purple couches facing the TV mounted onto the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows giving an impeccable view of the city lights. There’s a door on the left and the right, one is probably leading to the bedroom, the other one must be the bathroom and though the doors are closed, you can imagine how good they must be designed.

The suite is definitely not untouched, you see signs of Harry here and there, the envelopes on the coffee table, the single used mug next to them, some sort of hoodie thrown over the back of one of the armchairs and a Macbook lying on the desk next to the TV. 

“It’s permanently reserved for me. I spend so much time at the bar, it’s easier if sometimes I don’t have to drive all the way home and can just stay here,” he explains as you walk further inside, stopping by the window to have a look at the view. 

Slowly, you turn around and look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Why are we here?”

He is standing a few feet away, his hands hidden in his pockets, but his stance feels welcoming and open even despite your closed off behavior. 

“To be alone. I don’t want the circumstances to bother you. I know things can get overwhelming sometimes.”

You remain still, not sure what to say or do. It really has been overwhelming, but only because sometimes your own mind turns against you and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets and cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, but still leaves a bit of space between the two of you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks so softly, it almost makes you want to cry, because he doesn’t feel real, nothing does when it’s about him. You’re so set on how unmatching you feel around him that it’s almost impossible to think otherwise now. 

“I don’t see it,” you reply in a whisper.

“See what?”

“I don’t see what you see in me. I only see my version of myself and it’s… not good.”

The tears are stinging your eyes. You have probably never said these words out loud, but somehow, you feel safe enough with Harry to bring this side of you out, though the fear that he might get fed up with it is still strong in the pit of your stomach. 

You have no idea what kind of reaction you were expecting from him, to be honest you couldn’t imagine a version where he stands his ground and doesn’t agree with all the awful things you harbor about yourself. 

But then he steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face in them as he angles your head so you’re looking up at him, holding you like that, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I want to show you. How I see you.”

His hands slide down to your neck, his thumbs are underneath your chin to keep you in place, his gaze dipping down to your lips a couple of times before settling on your eyes, waiting, silently asking for permission and though you don’t say a single word he understands you.

His first kiss is brief, but confident. His lips press against yours and they open slowly, just enough so that his tongue can tease you before he pulls back, though he doesn’t move far, his nose is still brushing against yours. Opening your eyes you find him looking at you, his otherwise light and bright eyes are now several shades darker, lust dripping from the curled up ends of his lashes as he waits for you to make up your mind whether you want to go further or not. Somehow, his black magic must have worked enough on you to mute that evil voice in the back of your head, the absence of it giving you the chance to give yourself into the moment. 

You push up against him this time eagerly, open mouth meeting his and he’s quick to react with just as much passion. 

One of his hands moves down to your waist and when his fingers dig into the soft flesh you can’t hold back a moan that’s immediately swallowed by him. You fist his shirt, desperately trying to pull closer even though he is entirely pressed up against you. 

Blindly he starts moving, pulling you with him, your kiss never breaking as you move around the couch. Then his lips leave yours and you’re forced to open your eyes just as he sits down on the couch, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he pulls you between his knees and he kisses your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. Out of reflex you try to pull away or avert him somewhere else, but his hands squeeze your thighs as his eyes snap up to meet your gaze.

“How I see you, remember? Let me show you,” he reminds you and though every inch of you is screaming to pull away, you stay.

Harry pushes your shirt up and unbuttons your pants before his hands grab you by the waist. He twists you around and pulls you down on him, so you end up lying half on top of him with your back pressed against his chest. 

“Harry,” you gasp when his right hand starts to slip into your pants and then under your underwear, but his other hand falls to your heaving chest as if he could calm your jumping pulse with just one touch.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to push anything on you.” His lips are by your ear that brushes against them when you nod and just let him do whatever he wants. 

When two of his fingers slip between your wet folds, your lips part with a sigh, your head rolling back to his shoulder just from his touch. He is gentle but determined, starts off by just moving those two fingers up and down, gently applying some pressure at the perfect spots before keep moving. Then they settle on your clit and start drawing circles in a slow pace, playing with the pressure once again, setting your nerves on fire. 

You keep moaning and gasping as you still lie on top of him, his other hand moves underneath your shirt, but it doesn’t go further up just yet, only remains flat on your skin. You can’t stop your body from falling into a rhythm, hips buckling, spine arching with certain movements, especially when he starts to gradually increase his pace. 

When a tiny shock rides through your body with a rougher movement one of your hands grabs onto his thigh by your side, fingers digging into his muscles, earning a deep grunt from him that rumbles right underneath you. 

Your other hand snaps to his wrist as you completely lose control over yourself and push his hand a bit further, showing him where and how you need him the most and he is quick to pick up on the clues and add to the sensation. 

“Y/N, Angel, let go for me,” he whispers into your ear and while his hand between your legs doesn’t stop for a moment, the other one finally inches up and cups your breast, kneading it sensually. 

“Harry, I–Ah!” You’ve lost your ability to voice a coherent thought. You have none, the feelings Harry is making you feel have taken over you entirely. 

“I know, I know,” he murmurs and when you turn your head he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips in a deep kiss and while you’re eager to return it, you lose control over your movements when you feel your orgasm tipping you over the edge. It stretches and teases and then it washes over you like a tidal wave. 

Gasping for air, your back arches and your nails dig into his wrist and thigh, you hear him say something but his words are tuned out, you hear or see nothing, only feel.

But you feel everything. 

You have no idea how long it takes for you to calm down and come back to real life. When it happens you realize Harry’s hand has moved away from between your legs and both of them are placed on your stomach, his fingers gently brushing against your skin in a slow rhythm. 

When you find your strength you wiggle around until you’re lying on your stomach, facing him. Even though you were the only one who benefited from the scene you just experienced, you see a deep satisfaction etched across his face as his lips break out into a smile. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you chuckle and pushing yourself up you stretch your neck until your lips meet his. This kiss is different, it’s gentle and slow, but just as meaningful as the ones before. 

“So,” he starts as he reaches up, running his fingers down the side of your face. “Did you see what I see?”

“I… felt it,” you say, part of you afraid of his reaction. But as you watch him, all you see is that same sweet, charming smile you’ve seen from him so many times before.

“That’s a start.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m more than happy to work on it until you really see it.”

Staring at him, you search for something. Anything that gives away the slightest sign that gives away that he is not being genuine, but you find none and it feels heavier than if you did. Completely touched by his words the tears start dwelling in your eyes. 

“Where have you been?” you ask in just a whisper.

“Well…” he breathes out, locking you in his arms. “Behind bars the past ten years,” he says and there’s a heartbeat of silence as you both realize what he just said and the duality of it. 

You both burst out in laughter at the same time.

“Not like that!” he shakes his head.

“I guess there are a lot I don’t know about you, that’s fair.”

“And do you want to know more?” He challenges you. Your laughter fades into just a soft smile.

“I do. Do you want to know more about me?”

“Everything. I want to know everything.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[heirofnight]

let's go

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: reader is arranged to be wed within the next 12 hours, and azriel is determined to not let that happen.

a/n: thank you so much for all of the love on the writing i've published so far. my heart could explode. i've never allowed anyone to read anything that i've written, and as nervous as i was, i'm so glad that i made this account. this little fic was inspired by GoT lmao. i hope you like it!

you took in your reflection in the floor length mirror that was propped against the side of the wall. your chambers were dimly lit, somber even - a perfect indication of your own feelings. you'd always loved candles, loved the romantic glow that they'd cast across the walls of your large bedroom. for that reason, you had many of them - big and small - spread across the surfaces of your space. all of them were lit now, and they, along with the moonlight that spilled through your open drapes, provided mood lighting that perfectly encapsulated your own brooding thoughts.

you were getting married tomorrow. but not in a way that was exciting or filled your heart to the brim with joy. no, this was absolutely dreadful - an arranged marriage that was put in to place solely to benefit your royal father. one that you did not want, and would have never agreed to. you didn't even know the male that you were set to wed - had never even seen him.

your father was thrilled. he would not stop boasting about how immensely important this union was (for him), how this event was going to solve so many political issues amongst the court (you didn't give a shit), how happy you'd eventually grow to be (impossible). you were furious, you felt used, and you were in love with another.

azriel.

your eyes fluttered as his name tore through every single chamber of your mind. it felt like you were physically being stabbed through the heart. at this point, you'd rather it. at least you'd die his lover.

your eyes found the floor in front of you, and you took in a sobering breath. you had one more thing that needed to be done before tomorrow's ceremony.

you crossed the wooden floor of your large bedroom, floorboards creaking beneath your bare feet. you sat before your mirrored vanity, pulling a stack of parchment from the small drawer in front of it. and, you began to write. one last letter to the male that you'd loved for close to five years now. the man that held your soul within his scarred hands - hands that had the potential to inflict such harrowing damage. but those same hands had held your beating heart with such care and unrelenting love, it made your chest physically want to split in half to think of it.

my sweet love,

as i sit here on the eve of my wedding day, a day that should be joyous, a celebration for the ages, i can't help but feel as though my heart is trying to leap from my chest. if it were able to do such a thing, i know that it would somehow journey these lands to find its way to you. it is already with you, anyhow, and it always will be. i am sick to think that my walk down the aisle will not end with me standing before you, azriel. such a handsome husband you'd be. please, if you ever wed another, -

you paused your writing as a chilled gust of air hit the back of your neck, your hair whipping about with the impact. you weren't scared, you didn't even flinch - you knew what, or who caused it.

you spun around in your chair, and were met the blanched face of the male you were just writing your farewell correspondence to.

"az," you breathed out, rushing to meet his stiff frame. he was clearly distressed. angry. his breath was heaving from his chest, and his fists were clenched at his sides - wings were flared in irritation.

his wild hazel eyes met your own, and he shook his head in disbelief, shoulders dropping in defeat.

"this can't happen, y/n," he whispered, jaw clenching. he was barely maintaining his composure. you knew he wanted to level this entire manor, storm through the halls and end the lives of every one of your father's men that he came across.

you let out a shaky breath, brows cinching. it would have almost been easier to not see him, especially not tonight. this was gut wrenching.

"az, i have no choice. i'm stuck, i've tried to think of every possible way-," you rambled in a hushed tone, hands gesturing in desperation.

"there is a way," he cut you off, his tone one that could summon death. he'd calmed himself, although just marginally. he'd become still, steady, and sure. his voice took on the same quality as it did when he was focused on a mission. it was cold, full of gravel.

you looked up at him, confused and trying not to get your hopes up. surely if there was an actual way to rid yourself of this nightmare, you'd have already thought of and executed it.

"you come with me. now.", he spoke once more, leaving no room for discussion. he wasn't kidding - even though he knew the consequences of such treason.

"az...", you winced, shaking your head as your gaze hit the floor. you couldn't bare to look at him, nor turn him down, but you had to.

"no, y/n. i don't care. i don't care what happens, i don't care about your father, or his army, or what this means for velaris. you're coming with me. i will not allow this to happen," he was breathing heavily again, hands coming to grasp at your slumped shoulders.

"he will start a war, azriel. he will know exactly where to find me, find us," you whispered, not daring to meet his desperate gaze.

"then we will go somewhere else, we'll go somewhere he won't find us. and we'll figure it out. you and i," he pleaded, voice faltering. the words came out strained, like he was trying not to scream, yell, implode.

you sighed, mulling it over momentarily.

"and rhys? my father will still go to velaris first. we can't unleash my father and his men onto rhys and his people just because of this", you rationalized. the thought of velaris facing another attack at your own expense was nauseating.

"i would level all of prythian with my bare hands because of this. for you," he gritted. he took your face between his hands gently, forcing you to meet his wide eyes. he needed to make you understand. he would not survive this.

you stared at him for a long moment, your expression one of absolute dejection. azriel's heart clenched, his head was pounding. please agree, please, please agree to this, come with me, he chanted in his mind, hoping somehow he'd will you into agreement.

"rhys knows where i am. he knows what i'm doing. and he knows the potential consequences. we've been working on solutions, on strategies. we can do this," he breathed out, his full lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

he was begging you, pleading. you knew he'd get on his knees if he had to. and gods, you wanted to go so badly. you'd never been able to choose anything for yourself - nothing. you'd had no say, no meaningful opinions, and no choice on any matter regarding your own life.

but you'd chosen azriel. he was the only choice you'd ever made, and would forever be the best one. you'd chosen him then, and you'd choose him now.

"i'll pack a bag," you spoke softly, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his. you couldn't help the smile that began to tug at your lips.

a pregnant pause lingered between the both of you as you determined whether or not this was a horrible idea. azriel was half-expecting you to change your mind. he held his breath for longer than was probably healthy, lungs beginning to burn. but then, finally:

"let's go," you stated firmly, true determination woven within your words.

azriel faltered for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your decision. he was frozen as you untangled yourself from his arms, darting about to quickly pack a bag of your belongings.

"let's go," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

a/n: my heart !!! this one came out of nowhere and i had to write it out. sorry if it's kinda dumb. let me know what you think!

[actuallysaiyan]

Love Hotel(Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, mirror sex/katoptronophilia, water jet masturbation, alcohol, reader and Nanami are 19+, love hotel word count: 2.4k pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you and Kento struggle to find time to be intimate now that you're both full-fledged Grade One sorcerers who work for Jujutsu Tech, and you lie to Gojo about a mission so you and Kento can have a night alone together. you end up in a love hotel together a/n: this is sort of in the universe of most of my other Emo!Nanami fics and reader who are sorcerers together. Can be read apart or together with the others :) dividers by the lovely @benkeibear

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly @benkeibear @namikyento

@adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @galactict3a. @erebus-et-eigengrau

@aomi04 @isabelzoldyck

Wanna be part of the taglist? Here's the link!(Please make sure to have an age indicator in your bio plz!)

It’s been weeks since you and Kento have had a moment alone. Ever since becoming full-fledged sorcerers, it’s just been mission after mission. If it’s not missions, it’s training. And if it’s not training, it’s Gojo always hanging off one of you. 

It goes without saying, you two were becoming quite pent up. Even just trying to have a moment alone to kiss and unwind was becoming difficult. Most nights, you two settled into your new shared apartment and just ate and went to bed. While you cuddled the whole night through, it was becoming just not enough. You two craved more than just cuddling. You needed affection, kisses and needy intimacy.

So the next time you both knew you had the day off, Kento figured out the perfect way to get Gojo to leave you both alone. He lied effectively about a mission you two were supposed to go on.

“I didn’t hear about this,” Gojo says, his tone accusative. 

“That’s because you’re not involved.” You come to Kento’s defense. “It’s just for him and I.”

Gojo frowns, but then he laughs and ruffles both of your hair. He leaves you both, which makes you so proud of Kento’s little fib. It was the perfect way to get your senpai to leave you both alone for the whole afternoon.

After you both get dropped off in the city, Kento takes your hand and leads you down a few dark, damp alleyways. Then you emerge in another part of the city. The lights are a bit more neon, the people look a little stranger and you cling to Kento a little more. He ushers you towards a very dimly lit building.

Inside the building, you realize it’s a hotel of sorts. Kento walks you over to one of the machines and he presses a button. There are photos of rooms showcased on the touchscreen. He scrolls through some of them, then turns to you.

“Which one do you prefer?” He asks you, seeing your cheeks turn pink.

All the rooms seem to have such a kinky vibe to them. Some of them have poles in the middle of the room, one of them has a stage in it, and one of them looks like some sort of wild sex dungeon. Finally one catches your eye. It’s the one with a heart-shaped bed, a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom and a mirror on the ceiling.

“This one,” you tap the screen and select it.

Kento smirks playfully and then he enters his bank card into the machine. He discretely pays for the room and grabs his receipt; the only proof that either of you have even been here.

The ride up to the room is a little tense. But only because you both were so excited to finally have some alone time together. Kento mentions that he paid extra for an overnight stay in the room. He kisses your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

He unlocks the door to your room with the keycard, and then you both enter. The room is bathed in a red-pink glow from the lights, and it accentuates the décor in here. The floor is a white and gray marble color, with a plush white shag carpet near the heart-shaped bed. The sheets are silky pink and blush red satin, just asking to be rolled around in.

Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of the very reflective mirror on the ceiling. Kento closes the door behind you both, ushering you inside gently. You notice that there is a small kitchenette area close to the door of the bathroom. Walking around, you take in more of the room.

A large flatscreen TV sits in front of the bed, and there’s also a very comfortable looking white loveseat that’s nearby for watching movies or any other activities. You make your way over to the minibar and look inside the mini fridge.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kento says as he approaches you. “We could try out the jacuzzi first.”

You grab two beers from the fridge and you follow your lover into the bathroom. It’s all pink tiles in here with more of the same red-pink lighting. Even the jacuzzi is heart-shaped, which makes you snort. Kento laughs with you as well. Then he turns on the shower, giving you both a moment to be able to rinse off before you get into the tub.

With both of you rinsed off and your beers opened, Kento helps you into the now filled heart-shaped tub. He turns on the jets, making you moan as they begin to hit your sore muscles.

“This is too nice,” you comment as you rest your head on Kento’s shoulder.

Kento chuckles and sips his beer, “We needed this, honey.”

Both of you sigh happily as you rest in the warm water. The jets work their magic on muscles, loosening you both up. The beer makes you both feel a little more aroused than usual. Kento leans over and he kisses your lips softly, tentatively at first.

Soon you’re leaning in as well, your lips melding with his. He places his beer on the edge of the tub, his free hand coming to cup your chin. It’s not long before you’re adjusting your position so that you’re facing him almost directly. Your thighs open just a bit to allow him to get even closer to you.

That’s when you feel it. The jet hits your thigh and you squeal against his lips. Kento pulls away, a concerned look on his face. You laugh softly, taking a sip of your beer to calm your nerves.

“The jets,” you say. “I bet they could feel really good.”

Kento’s eyes widen and his cheeks redden. He then helps you get into a good position so that the jets are focused on your crotch. One of his hands reaches down to begin rubbing your clit. He presses kisses to your neck, biting and nipping softly. 

“How’s this feeling, honey?” He asks you, kissing your neck.

You let out a moan as the jets begin to thrum against your clit, “Fuck, it feels amazing.”

He helps keep your legs spread as the jets work their magic on your swollen nub. The pleasure keeps building more and more, making your whole body shudder. You try to warn Kento that you’re about to cum, but all that comes out is pathetic little whimpers and moans. 

“That’s it,” Kento coaxes you, “Cum for me.”

His hands come up to begin kneading your breasts. That’s all it takes for you to come undone. He tugs at your hardened nipples, prolonging the pleasure even more. You cry out his name as the pleasure washes over you; the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen finally releasing as your orgasm hits you hard. The jets continue to thrum against your clit, and that coupled with Nanami’s able fingers has you squirming from the overstimulation.

Finally, he brings you to sit on his lap and he holds you to his chest. Slowly, your breathing begins to normal out. Kento presses soft kisses to your temple and then all down your neck. He then leans in close to whisper in your ear.

“You looked so fucking sexy cumming like that,”

His words make your heart skip a beat. You turn to face him and your lips meet in such a sensual kiss. His hands feel so good on your skin; he caresses you so sweetly. To Kento, you are the most precious thing in this world.

“Come on, let’s go try out the bed.”

He helps you out of the jacuzzi and pulls the plug to let it drain. He grabs the soft, fluffy towels to help you both dry off and then you both slide into the complementary silk robes hanging on the wall. His hand finds yours and he guides you back to the bedroom.

You settle on the bed, looking around the room once more. Kento heads to the minibar and he finds a bottle of champagne. You watch as he uncorks it, and he pours it into two flutes. He comes over to the bed and passes one of them to you. You toast to your relationship and the amazing lie your boyfriend thought up so you two could have this amazing night together.

Kento sits on the bed with you, drinking champagne with you. You two share soft, sweet kisses and chat lightly. There’s no real pressure between you two. It’s just a peaceful time. It’s rare to have this time together and you want to soak it all in and savor it.

Eventually, after a few flutes of champagne, you start to feel needy again. Kento found a channel on the TV that just plays music, and it’s playing some of your favorite songs. Soon you feel him pushing you to lie back onto the bed. He unties the knot of your robe and strips you. Then he takes off his robe, and pulls the covers up over you both.

For a few minutes, the two of you are just making out. Soft kisses turn into more teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance. Your legs spread around him, wrapping around his broad frame to pull him in even closer. His hands soothe down your body, stopping only to tug on your nipples. Then one of his hands slips between the two of you, rubbing your clit slowly.

You pant as his fingers work your swollen clit, making your body heat up so quickly. You’re pulling him in for another sloppy kiss; your fingers are buried in his hair and tugging softly. Kento’s cock throbs and twitches to life.

“Shit,” he sighs. “I forgot to bring condoms.”

You swallow hard. While you had gone on birth control for other purposes, you and Kento had decided to use condoms while having sex. It was just a means to be even more responsible. You hadn’t brought condoms with you either. 

“It’s okay,” you kiss him. “Let’s do it anyway.”

Kento feels like he could faint from your words. He’s been dreaming of the day he could finally slip into your pussy raw. He never wanted to pressure you into doing anything you weren’t comfortable with, and he always used condoms that felt basically like being inside of you raw, but nothing could even come close to that feeling.

“R-really?” Kento asks, his cheeks and the tops of his ears are pink.

You nod your head. “Yeah, I want to.”

Kento reaches between you, grasping his cock. He’s practically shaking with excitement. He slides the tip between your soaked folds, making you whine and beg for him. Then he brings it to your dripping entrance, pushing in slowly.

“Oh fuck,” Kento whines.

Inch by inch, he enters your warm cunt. It’s so snug and wet and he’s not sure how long he can last like this. He’s panting like a dog in heat as he continues to slide into you until he’s bottomed out. You watch as his eyes cross from the intense pleasure and he slumps against you.

“Too fucking good.” 

You gently rub his back, soothing him from the intense pleasure. You have to admit it’s intense for you too, and you never thought it could feel like this. Eventually, Kento pulls himself up and begins rocking his hips. His large hands rest on your hips, pulling you in with every thrust of his hips.

“You feel so good,” Kento grunts. “So fucking good. So warm and wet.”

He leans in to kiss you hungrily. Your tongues roll together as he fucks into you a little faster. When you pull away from the kiss, you look up. This is when you notice the mirror that’s right on top of the bed. You thought you’d be so insecure about watching yourself have sex with your boyfriend, but seeing just how sensual it is, you find yourself even more turned on than before.

The way Kento’s back muscles flex as he fucks you harder just makes you see your man in such a different way. He’s gorgeous when he fucks you like this, but what surprises you is the way you like your own reactions in the mirror. It turns you on and arouses you to see yourself in the throes of pleasure.

“Like seeing yourself like this?” Kento asks in a breathy tone. He looks up behind him, seeing you both in the mirror. “Does it turn you on to watch me fucking you?”

You nod your head, your mind practically blank from being fucked so good and being so aroused. Kento chuckles softly before he pushes your legs to your chest. He’s much deeper in this position, and his cock is hitting your sweet spot dead on this way.

“Cum for me,” he whines. “Need to feel you cumming on my cock.”

He leans down just a bit to spit on your already wet clit, rubbing it in with his thumb. The steady rhythm of his cock inside of you was pushing you closer to that sweet release. The muscles in your groin begin to tense up once more, signaling just how close you are to cumming.

“Ken,” you whimper. “I’m so close.”

He kisses you. “Let go for me,”

He lightly pinches your swollen nub and that’s what pushes you over the edge. Your nails dig into the muscles in his back, dragging down as your walls begin to pulsate around him. Kento’s face is buried in the crook of your neck as he feels his own release becoming imminent.

“I’m cumming,” he whines. “C-can I cum inside?”

“Yes, please!”

He doesn’t need to hear more before his hips stutter. Your eyes flutter back and forth from him and to the mirror above you as you watch your boyfriend go through exhilarating pleasure. His moans are desperate and animalistic all at once as he spurts thick ropes of cum deep inside your still-convulsing pussy.

Once he comes down from his orgasm, he slumps against you again. This time his mouth finds one of your nipples, suckling softly. He huffs a little when you begin to run your fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He looks up at you, “I love you too.”

Neither one of you will regret lying to Gojo about this night.

[goldfades]

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 / 𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request! -> "paige with teammate!reader? it’d be soo cute i think" | you and paige were best friends on and off the court, and after an exhilarating win you spend the time together, relishing in the win (and each other)

─ word count | 2.7k

─ warnings | mention of drinking/partying, slightly suggestive, just idiots who are in love with one another, touchy paige (obvs), slightly oblivious reader, energy drink abuse 🤑, lots of teasing/banter, confession that turns into ... A SWEET KISS DUHHH

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | i hope y'all enjoyed, this may a little too fast-paced but i would totally be down to writing a whole full-fleshed out fic on just this concept cus it's so cute! anyway, enjoy!

"THERE IS NO WAY we're gonna drink right now," Azzi yawned as she leaned back into the hotel bed.

You and Paige exchanged glances before laughing, your expressions both mirroring one another. You were both still high off of the win, you weren't sure how everyone was up right now screaming with excitement. But there was still some exhaustion lingering in Paige's expression ─ of course you didn't blame her, she'd played the entire time.

The whole team was downstairs celebrating right now but the three of you decided to take a short break and go back to Azzi's room to relax. That 'short' break turned into fifteen minutes and then now, it's been almost forty.

"I'm gonna go to bed," Azzi continued.

You groaned dramatically as you rolled your eyes. "Oh come on, Azzi."

Before Paige could join you, Azzi gave you both a pointed look. You realized that there was no way either of you could convince her to come back downstairs so you just sighed. You and Paige glanced at each other again before she gestured to get up and the both of you got up from Azzi's bed.

You got up and made your way to the door while Paige followed behind you. "So, we gonna go back downstairs or..."

"My room?" Paige's eyebrows raised as you gave her a grin and nodded. Paige's hand instinctively found a place on the small of your back as she began leading you to her room.

As she led you to her room, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. Sure, you and Paige had been close friends for years, but there was always an underlying tension between you, something unspoken yet very noticable.

Once inside Paige's room, she closed the door behind you with a soft click. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the room.

Paige didn't waste any time, she crashed into the bed with a thud and an exhausted groan as you let out a small laugh. "I'm so sore," she groaned as you joined her on the bed.

She glanced up to meet your gaze with a smile. "How tired are you, from like... one to ten?"

"Maybe like... a six?" You responded as you leaned back on the headboard. "Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure you won't fall asleep, like last time." Paige teased as you rolled your eyes.

"That was one time!" You you protested with a playful swat at Paige's arm. "And I was exhausted from the bus ride, you can't blame me for dozing off."

Paige chuckled as she sat up and scooted closer to you. "Sure, sure. We'll just have to make sure tonight is more exciting than whatever boring movie we were watching last time."

"Yeah well, I don't think I'm falling asleep. I had like, three redbulls." You mention casually as Paige's jaw drops slightly.

"Dude, that's so bad for you." Paige's expression was filled with concern but she couldn't help the amusement in her tone. "Jeez, you're gonna have a heart attack right here, on my bed."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "It's worth it for the win, don't you think?"

Paige chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," you teased, nudging her playfully with your elbow.

Paige's laughter filled the room, warm and infectious. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I do," she admitted with a smile, her eyes softening as she looked at you.

You noticed how her gaze lingered on your features for far longer than any friend would have and you definitely didn't miss the way she wet her lips as she looked away. Your stomach flipped and you felt yourself begin to feel warm, you had no idea why little things like that made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

Was it just the adrenaline from the game, or was there something more?

"Have you showered yet?" Paige asked, seemingly out of nowhere as you laughed at her randomness.

"Yeah, right after the game. Did you?"

Paige sighed as she leaned back into the bed, a yawn escaping her lips. "I did but only my body, I haven't washed my hair. I wanna shower but I also wanna stay here, with you."

"Well you can do both," you replied as Paige's smirk widened. You quickly rolled your eyes as a blush began to appear on your face. "Not like that, I meant you can shower and then I'll just hang out in your room."

"Or you can come in the bathroom with me," Paige got up from the bed. "So we can talk and stuff, just look away when I'm naked."

You couldn't help but laugh at Paige's suggestion, the blush on your cheeks deepening at the thought of being so close to her in such an intimate setting.

"Are you sure about that?" you teased, trying to hide your nerves behind a playful tone.

Paige shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."

You chuckled nervously, you couldn't argue with that logic. Your cheeks flush at the memory of the countless times you and Paige had shared changing rooms or gone swimming together.

After years of friendship, there were few boundaries left between you and Paige. Still, the idea of being alone with her in the warm confines of the bathroom sent a rush of nervousness through you.

"Yeah, but this is different," you pointed out, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness at the prospect.

Paige's smile softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "It's okay, I promise I won't make it weird. We're just two friends hanging out, right?"

"Fine, okay." You sighed as you let Paige pull you into the bathroom. You quickly faced the door as Paige ran the water to the hottest temperature.

As Paige stepped into the shower, you took a seat on the closed toilet lid, trying your best to keep your gaze averted as she began to lather up her hair. You kept your gaze fixed firmly on the door, trying to ignore the tantalizing temptation of stealing a glance at Paige. I mean, if she was in your situation, she definitely wouldn't have hid her ultimate glimpse.

Paige's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present moment. "So, how's your shoulder feeling after the game?"

You blinked, grateful for the distraction. "Oh, it's not too bad," you replied. You had injured your shoulder at practice a couple weeks ago and it didn't hurt too bad anymore, Paige was just being over-protective.

Paige nodded, her movements becoming more relaxed. "That's good. I almost lost my shit when that girl hit your shoulder, I thought she hurt you or something."

You laughed as you shook your head. "I know, I could tell. It got us a foul shot, didn't it?"

Paige chuckled, a hint of relief evident in her voice. "I know, a win's a win. I'm glad it didn't hurt too bad, though. I would've killed her if she got you even more injured,"

You grinned at Paige's protective streak, appreciating the fierce loyalty she had always shown you. "I don't doubt it for a second,"

"Good cus I would've, trust me." Paige joked as she finished up her shower and stepped out, causing you to shut your eyes. Paige laughed as she rolled your eyes at your dramatics.

"Alright, drama queen," Paige teased, reaching for a towel to dry off. "You can open your eyes now."

You both made your way out of the bathroom, you got on the bed with a thud as Paige began to get dressed. You kept your eyes on the phone screen, ignoring Paige's laughter. After she'd gotten dressed, she put on her glasses on got into bed.

You felt the mattress shift as Paige settled in beside you, her warmth radiating against your side. You finally tore your gaze away from your phone screen, unable to resist the urge to sneak a glance at her. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair still slightly damp from the shower, her glasses perched on her nose.

"You played good tonight," Paige spoke as she smiled contently at you. This moment felt really intimate, the dimmed lights and the warmth of being so close to Paige. "And you looked so damn good," her tone was amused but you didn't miss the slightly serious undertone beneath her words.

"Thanks," your voice was soft as you returned her smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at her compliment. "You were amazing out there too but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you."

Paige's smile widened at your words, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. "Well, it wouldn't hurt," she joked as you let out a chuckle. "But seriously, though," she continued, her gaze locking with yours, "you looked incredible tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

Your heart skipped a beat at Paige's words, it was rare for her to be so openly affectionate and genuine, and yet here she was, laying her feelings bare for you to see.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Paige continued. "I'm proud of you, genuinely. Tonight was just kind of like..." she paused, unsure of how to say it. "I don't know, but I just admire you a lot. In more ways than one."

"What do you mean?" Your voice came out quiet and slightly breathless as your heart raced.

Paige laughed nervously. "I don't know, I've always thought you were really pretty. And super funny, you always match my vibe. You took care of me when I was injured and even in my worst moments I never felt like you were against me. I like being around you and like... it's different than with KK or Ice or anyone else on the team, or anyone else I know."

"Am I... uh, making you uncomfortable?" Paige spoke after a pause.

You took a moment to process Paige's words, feeling a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Her confession caught you off guard, but at the same time, it filled you with a sense of ease.

"No, God, no. Not at all," you reassured her quickly, your voice soft, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I'm just... I'm really glad you feel that way. Because I feel the same, you know? Being around you, it's like... it's like being home."

If this was any other moment or any other person, you'd be cringing at that. But that was the honest-to-God truth and the only way you could possibly explain how she makes you feel.

Paige's gaze softened, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes. "Really?"

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, really. You're one of the most incredible people I know, Paige. And... I'm just really grateful to have you in my life."

"I've been meaning to tell you that for a while now," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared of how you'd react. I didn't want to ruin our friendship or make things weird between us, especially with the team and all."

"Me too, I don't know when I started liking you like that but when I realized it, I was like 'oh shit'." You joked as you let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige's lips curled into a grin, laughing along with you. "Yeah, 'oh shit' pretty much sums it up,"

There was a moment of silence for a couple seconds as you glanced back at Paige, feeling the weight of the moment. You'd just confessed your feelings for the girl you'd liked since... well, since the moment you'd met her, basically.

"So, what now?" You whispered as you broke the silence, feeling her gaze on you.

Paige's gaze softened as she met your eyes, a tender smile playing at her lips. She took your hand in her lap, pulling you closer. You mirrored her smile as her hand moved up to cup your cheek, you felt your breath hitch as her gaze moved down to your lips.

In that moment, time seemed to slow down as Paige's touch sent a rush of warmth coursing through you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from hers, the intensity of the moment holding you captive.

"We take things one step at a time," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, yet it echoed in the quiet space between you. "And right now, I want to be here with you."

Paige's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her eyes dark with emotion. "Is this okay?

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

Paige leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours as she closed the distance between you. The touch of her lips against yours was soft and careful, it felt like time slowed down. She pulled you even closer as you let her explore your mouth, letting a pleased noise.

You melted into the kiss, feeling a surge of emotion swell within you as Paige's warmth enveloped you in a comforting embrace. It was as if everything you had ever felt for her, every longing and desire, was finally being realized in one single, perfect moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the world around you fading away as you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of excitement coursing through you.

You were too enveloped in the kiss to hear the hotel room open, the only thing either you felt was the weight of one another.

"Oh shit!" KK's voice made you two pull away from each other as quickly as you could, your eyes wide as you caught your breath. Ice quickly followed behind her, looking confused until she took in the scene in front of her.

You and Paige scrambled to compose yourselves, cheeks flushed and hearts racing as you exchanged glances. KK stood in front of the bed, her eyes wide with surprise but her lips curved into a smirk, while Ice stared at the two of you with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"You owe me 50$ dollars," Ice blurted as she looked back at KK, a smile on her face.

"Shit, yeah. I should've listened to you and Aubrey." KK rolled her eyes as you and Paige exchanged confused looks.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, a note of confusion in your voice.

"We made a bet on whether you two would finally admit your feelings for each other tonight," Ice explained, her tone amused. "KK said that you guys would confess to each other later but me and Aubrey could tell, tonight would be the night."

Paige's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her lips forming an 'o' of realization. "Wait, you guys were betting on us?" she exclaimed, annoyance in her tone.

KK chuckled, nodding. "Uh, yeah. It wasn't like you guys hid it very well."

"Paige had the worst case of heart eyes I've ever seen... like ever," Ice added, unable to suppress a smirk. "I mean, it was practically written all over her face every time she looked at you."

Paige's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't suppress a smirk at Ice's teasing. "Can you blame me? Have you seen her?"

Your cheeks flushed as you averted from their gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and flattery at Paige's words. You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at her compliment, even as you tried to conceal your blush.

Ice and KK exchanged amused glances, their smiles widening at the banter between you and Paige. "Well, I think it's safe to say the feeling's mutual," KK remarked with a grin.

You glanced back at Paige, feeling a surge of affection for her as you met her gaze.

"I take either cash or Apple Pay, your choice." Ice glanced at KK as she groaned, taking out her wallet. But your gaze didn't falter from Paige as her hand found yours under the blanket, squeezing it.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[goddessofvalyria]

SKIN | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc

Summary: Aemond only wants to make her girl feels good.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT She/Her pronouns, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f receiving) tits sucking/play, squirting, sex.

This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, inspired by Mac Miller's song "Skin." Much like the rest of the album, it revolves around Mac’s sexual and emotional relationships. The song is smooth and sexy, both lyrically and sonically and the jazzy and R&B feel is a departure from Mac’s usual style.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

Words: 3300

"You hide your skin like ya shy or did somethin' wrong You stylish when you got nothin' on"

— Skin, Mac Miller.

Aemond Targaryen's fingertips glide over her skin like he's tracing constellations, each touch deliberate, as if he's memorizing the map of her body. His room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows that dance across the walls, adding to the intimacy of the moment. The sultry notes of Mac Miller’s "Skin" play softly in the background, setting a slow, seductive rhythm that mirrors their movements.

He leans down, his breath warm against her ear. “I only want to make you feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, each word like a promise. She shivers beneath him, her back arching in response to the sensation, pressing her body closer to his.

Her hands travel up his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. She tugs at it, a silent plea, and he obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. He grins down at her, his eye dark with desire, the scar across his face only adding to the intensity of his look. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his lips brushing hers as he speaks.

She pulls him into a kiss, deep and needy, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. Aemond groans into her, his hands sliding up her sides, under her shirt. His thumbs brush against her breasts, teasing her nipples through the lace of her bra, and she gasps into his mouth. He swallows her sounds, drinking them in like they’re the sweetest wine.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down her jaw, her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “Aemond,” she breathes, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Please…”

He smirks against her throat, his fingers deftly unhooking her bra. “I’ve got you, baby,” he assures her, sliding the straps down her arms and tossing it aside. His mouth moves lower, capturing a nipple between his lips, sucking gently, his tongue swirling around the hardened bud. She moans, her hands tangling in his silver hair, pulling him closer.

Aemond’s free hand travels down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. His fingers find her wet and ready, and he groans against her skin. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he growls, his fingers teasing her clit in slow, deliberate circles. She cries out, her hips bucking against his hand, seeking more.

He chuckles, dark and throaty. “Patience, love,” he chides softly. “I want to savor you.” He slips a finger inside her, curling it just right, finding that spot that makes her see stars. She gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he adds another finger, pumping them slowly in and out, his thumb brushing against her clit with every stroke.

His lips never leave her skin, kissing down her neck, across her collarbone, and lower still, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She shivers beneath him, her breath hitching as his fingers slide between her legs, finding her slick and ready.

He teases her, his fingers brushing lightly against her clit, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He smirks at her reaction, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to make you feel good” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I want to see you come undone for me.”

Without waiting for a response, he slides agin two fingers inside her, curling them just right, hitting that spot that makes her cry out. His thumb presses against her clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles, building her pleasure. She grips his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her hips bucking against his hand.

“Oh, Aemond” she gasps, her voice breathless, her head falling back against the pillows. He watches her, his gaze hungry, his fingers moving faster, thrusting in and out of her with a steady rhythm. She feels the tension building inside her, the coil tightening with every stroke, every flick of his thumb.

He leans in, his lips brushing against her ear. “Come for me,” he whispers, his breath hot against her skin. “I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

His words push her closer to the edge, her body trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He keeps up the pressure, his fingers curling inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit in just the right way. She’s so close, teetering on the brink, her body tensing, her mind going blank with pleasure.

And then she’s there, the wave crashing over her, her body convulsing as she squirts soaking the sheets, the release so intense it takes her breath away. Aemond groans at the sight, his fingers never stopping, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from her. She’s shaking, her body spent, her heart racing. He cuts her off with a deep kiss, swallowing her moans as her orgasm crashes over her, her walls tightening around his fingers. He keeps moving, drawing out her pleasure, not stopping until she’s a shaking, breathless mess beneath him.

He pulls back, his lips swollen and slick from her kiss, his fingers glistening with her arousal. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan, his gaze locked on hers. “You taste so fucking good” he murmurs, and she feels a new wave of heat flood through her at his words, her body already aching for more.

He doesn’t make her wait long. He stands, shedding the rest of his clothes, and she can’t help but admire the sight of him—tall, lean, his body a masterpiece of strength and grace. He looks down at her with a predatory hunger that sends a thrill through her.

“Your turn” he says, his voice a low growl, and she doesn’t hesitate. She sits up naked, reaching for his hips, her mouth watering at the sight of his hard length. She licks her lips, her eyes meeting his as she takes him in her hand, stroking him slowly. He hisses, his head falling back, his fingers tangling in her hair as she leans in, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

She takes his fat cook into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks him in deep. Aemond groans, his grip tightening in her hair, his hips thrusting forward slightly. “Fuck, just like that,” he mutters, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re so good at this, baby.”

She hums around him, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. She works him with her mouth and hand, taking him deeper and deeper until he’s panting, his muscles tensing. He pulls her off of him suddenly, his eyes wild, his chest heaving. “If you keep going, I’m not gonna last” he admits, his voice strained.

She smiles, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “That’s the idea” she teases, but he shakes his head, pulling her up to her feet.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I want to feel you.” He guides her back to the bed, laying her down gently. He positions himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as he slides into her slowly, inch by inch, filling her completely.

They both moan at the sensation, the heat, the tightness. Aemond starts moving, his thrusts slow and deep, each one hitting that perfect spot inside her. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. “Aemond… please...” she begs, her nails digging into his back.

He grins down at her, his eye dark and hungry. “I’ve got you” he repeats, his thrusts speeding up, growing harder, more desperate. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

And he does.

He drives into her relentlessly, his pace punishing, his grip on her hips almost bruising. She’s a mess beneath him, writhing and crying out, her body taut with pleasure. “Aemond… I’m—”

“Cum for me” he commands, his voice a rough growl, and she shatters, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm. He follows her over the edge, spilling into her with a guttural moan, his body trembling with the force of his release.

They collapse together, tangled and breathless, their bodies slick with sweat. Aemond pulls her close, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “I love you” he whispers, his voice soft, tender.

She smiles up at him, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and contentment. “I love you too” she murmurs, snuggling into his chest.

They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the music still playing softly in the background, their bodies humming with the aftermath of their passion. And as they drift off to sleep, Aemond knows he’s done what he set out to do—he’s made his girl feel good.

But... how they did got together?

Aemond Targaryen was always the smartest boy in school, the one who could solve complex equations in his head and recite entire passages from memory. But his intelligence made him a target. Aemond was a bit of a nerd, always seen with his nose buried in a book or lost in thought, and that was enough to draw the attention of the bullies.

He was just 11 when they cornered him one day after school, dragging him behind the gym where no one would see. He tried to fight back, but there were too many of them, and they were too strong. They jeered and taunted him, calling him names, saying he thought he was better than them. Aemond didn’t understand why they hated him so much.

Then one of them, the leader, said something about putting out his eyes, like they were going to take away the only thing that made him special. Aemond tried to escape, but they held him down, and the sharp pain of a knife slicing across his face made him scream. Blood poured from his wound, and he fell to the ground, clutching his face, blinded by the searing pain.

The bullies ran off, laughing, leaving him there, broken and bleeding. He didn't know how long he lay there, his cries echoing in the empty courtyard.

It was then that she found him. His classmate, the girl who sat two rows over in their history class. She was just passing by when she saw him, crumpled and crying, his face covered in blood. Without thinking, she ran to him, kneeling beside him, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone to call for help.

"Hold on, Aemond" she whispered, her voice trembling but kind. "I'm here. I’ve got you."

She stayed with him and the teacher until the ambulance arrived, holding his hand and wiping the blood from his face with the hem of her shirt. He was in too much pain to speak, but her presence was a comfort, a light in the darkness. Aemond never forgot how she stayed with him when everyone else had turned away.

From that day on, he became attached to her. She was his safe place, the one person who didn’t see him as just the “nerdy kid” or the “boy with the scar.” She saw him, the real him. They grew up together, side by side, through every awkward teenage phase and high school drama.

Their first kiss happened on a cool autumn evening when they were both 15. They had decided to go for a walk after dinner, a habit they’d fallen into over the years. Aemond loved these walks—they were quiet, private, and it was during these moments that he felt closest to her.

The leaves crunched under their feet as they walked down the empty street, their breath visible in the chilly night air. She walked close beside him, her arm occasionally brushing against his. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughing easily, the way they always did. But tonight felt different. There was a certain tension in the air, a kind of electricity that neither of them could ignore.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft, silver glow over everything. They reached a small park, its playground empty, the swings swaying slightly in the breeze. She pulled him toward the swings, and they sat down, side by side, their feet barely touching the ground.

For a moment, they just sat there in silence, listening to the rustling of the leaves and the distant hum of the city. Aemond could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a nervous excitement building inside him. He glanced over at her, taking in the way the moonlight illuminated her face, her eyes sparkling with a light all their own.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly, turning to look at him.

He hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching in his throat. He wanted to tell her everything—how much she meant to him, how he couldn’t imagine his life without her, how her presence had saved him in more ways than one. But the words caught in his throat.

Instead, he simply said: “You.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile playing at her lips. “Good things, I hope” she teased, though there was a hint of something more in her voice.

He nodded, feeling a surge of courage. “Always” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile fading into something more serious, more intense. Aemond’s heart was racing now, his palms suddenly clammy. She was so close—close enough that he could see the small freckles dusting her cheeks, close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin.

And then, before he could overthink it, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was a light touch, barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through him, his entire body coming alive with the sensation.

For a moment, he didn’t move, stunned by the suddenness of it, by the realization that this was happening—that she was kissing him. But then he leaned into her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss. It was sweet and soft and perfect, everything he had ever imagined it would be.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their faces flushed with a mix of cold and excitement. She smiled at him, her eyes bright and happy, and he couldn’t help but smile back, his heart feeling light and free in a way it never had before.

“Wow” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and a hint of laughter.

“Yeah” he agreed, still trying to catch his breath. “Wow.”

They stayed there for a while, their foreheads touching, the world around them forgotten. In that moment, under the light of the moon, Aemond realized that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life making her smile like that. And as they walked home, their hands intertwined, he knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

By the time they were 17, Aemond knew he wanted more. His feelings for her had deepened into something stronger, something he couldn’t ignore. He’d never been brave when it came to matters of the heart, but for her, he found the courage. One warm spring afternoon, he asked her out on a date, his heart racing in his chest as he waited for her answer.

She smiled at him, that same kind smile she’d given him all those years ago when she found him bleeding and broken. “I’d love to” she said, and his heart soared.

From that moment on, they were inseparable.

Now, years later they are in their 20s, his girl—his love—lays in his bed, and Aemond knows there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than right here, with her.

As they lay in bed, wrapped in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, Aemond runs his fingers gently through her hair, savoring the warmth of her body pressed against his. The room is quiet, filled with only the soft sounds of their breathing and the steady beat of their hearts. She looks up at him, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

“Do you remember my 18th birthday?” she asks, her voice soft, her eyes shimmering with a teasing light.

Aemond chuckles, his hand coming to rest on her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin. “How could I forget?” he replies, his voice low and full of warmth. “I remember everything about that night.”

She smiles, her gaze turning thoughtful. “It was the first time we made love” she says softly, her eyes never leaving his.

Aemond’s smile deepens at the memory. He remembers how nervous he was, how much he wanted everything to be perfect for her. They had been together for a while by then, but this felt different—more intimate, more significant. It was her 18th birthday, a milestone, and he wanted to give her something special, something that would stay with her forever.

“You were so beautiful” he murmurs, his voice filled with affection. “You still are.”

She laughs lightly, her cheeks flushing with a soft blush. “I was so nervous” she admits, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “I remember thinking… what if I’m not good enough? What if you don’t like it?”

Aemond shakes his head, his expression tender. “I was the one who was nervous” he confesses. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. I wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. It was my first time too.”

She smiles, her eyes misting over with emotion. “You did” she whispers. “I remember the way you looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in the world. You were so gentle, so patient. You made me feel… cherished.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Because you are” he says quietly. “You always have been.”

She closes her eyes, relishing the warmth of his lips against her skin, the sincerity in his words. “I remember the way you touched me” she continues, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Every touch felt like fire and ice all at once. It was like… like you were showing me how much you loved me without even saying a word.”

Aemond smiles, his heart swelling with affection. “I was” he admits. “I wanted you to feel it, to know it deep in your bones. I wanted you to know that I’d always be there for you, no matter what.”

She looks up at him, her eyes soft and filled with love. “And I did” she says. “I still do.”

They fall silent for a moment, lost in the memory of that night. He remembers the way she trembled beneath him, her breath hitching in her throat as he kissed her slowly, deeply. He remembers the way her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he moved inside her, their bodies fitting together perfectly, as if they were made for each other.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt that… alive.” she says, breaking the silence, her voice filled with a soft laugh.

Aemond chuckles, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip, pulling her closer.

She smiles, her heart full, and leans up to press her lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. “I love you” she whispers against his lips, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you too,” Aemond replies, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Always.”

And as they lay there, still naked wrapped in each other’s arms, they both know that no matter how much time passes, no matter what the future holds, they will always have each other.

[vanteguccir]

Hey, can you please do a chratt blurb or fic where they aren’t just fucking you. Maybe one where they just act like your boyfriends and just take you out to eat or shop or something! You could add some drama to that too. Thanks!

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb where you get your period while chris and matt are out, which makes you grumpy and anxious for their return

　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 & 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

The sun had long set by the time Chris and Matt finally returned home. Their day had been a whirlwind of meetings and filming videos with Nick, each task pulling them further away from the comforting confines of their shared home. The brothers were exhausted, their shoulders heavy with the weight of the day's demands, yet an underlying excitement to see Y/N fueled their steps as they entered the house.

Matt tossed his keys onto the kitchen table, the metallic clink echoing through the quiet hallway. Nick followed suit, setting down the camera bag and their other equipment before going straight to his own room while Chris locked the front door.

Matt and Chris moved in synchrony, a silent agreement to wrap up their post-work routine quickly. Shoes were kicked off, jackets were hung, and phones were set to silent. The familiar ritual usually brought a sense of closure to their hectic days, but tonight, an unusual stillness in the house kept them on edge.

"Where do you think she is?" Chris asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced around.

"Probably in my room." Matt replied, a furrow forming between his brows, knowing how much comfort she found on his bed. "She was feeling off this morning."

Chris nodded, the concern in Matt's voice mirroring his own worries. They made their way through the dimly lit small hallway, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound accompanying their footsteps. The door to Matt's room was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway.

Pushing the door open gently, they found Y/N fast asleep on Matt's bed. Her form was curled into a tight ball, hands clutching Mr. Wrinkleton and pressing it against her stomach, a pronounced pout very visible on her plump and pink-ish lips accompanied with a slightly frown on her pretty eyebrows. The sight tugged at their hearts, a stark reminder of how much they'd missed throughout the day.

Matt moved closer, his steps cautious.

"She looks like she's in pain." He murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Chris followed, standing beside him, their gazes fixed on Y/N's peaceful yet troubled expression.

"Did she texted you during the day?" Chris asked in a whisper, his eyes scanning her face for any clues before catching the shake of Matt's head. "What could've happened?"

"I don't know." Matt replied, shrugging, his voice laced with concern as his eyes searched around the room momentarily. "She didn't mention anything this morning, too."

Chris suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening as a thought struck him.

"Matt, what day is it today?"

Matt glanced at him, confused.

"It's the fourth, why?"

Chris's eyes softened with realization.

"It's her period day."

Understanding dawned on Matt's face, and he sighed softly.

"Of course. Fuck, no wonder she's like this." Matt shook his head, his right hand messing up his hair in a nervous movement. "Should we wait for her to wake up?"

Their whispers seemed to reach Y/N in her sleep. She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering before they opened, revealing her tired eyes. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim light and the sight of her two boyfriends watching over her, her hands curling more firmly around the stuffed pug, bringing it closer.

"Hey." She murmured, her voice groggy with sleep.

"Hey, petal." Chris replied softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, the tip of his nose caressing her skin gently. "How are you feeling?"

Y/N's pout deepened, and she shifted slightly, wincing as she did, a new wave of pain crashing over her body.

"Been better." She admitted. "I don't feel very good..."

Matt reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his tumb caressing her ear softly.

"Oh yeah? What doesn't feel good, sweetheart?" He asked gently, watching her closely.

"I had my fucking period today and..." Her bottom lip trembled slightly with the new wave of unwelcomed emotions. "I didn't had any of you with me to keep me company or help with the pain as you guys always do." She hated how vulnerable and dramatic she sounded, but it was the pure truth.

"Why didn't you call us? We would have come home earlier, some of the videos are going to be posted only next week." Matt whispered softly, furrowing his eyebrows in worry at her reactions.

"I didn't want to bother you." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes going from one of her boys to the other. "You guys were busy."

Chris shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You could never bother us, baby. We hate that you've been alone all day feeling like this."

Y/N's eyes softened at their concern, a wave of emotion washing over her.

"I just... missed you guys today." She confessed.

Matt leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, his right hand going to her cheek, caressing her soft skin.

"We missed you too, you know?" He said against her lips before pulling back slightly. "We always do."

Chris shifted, lying down beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close, his palm pressing down softly against her stomach.

"We're here now." He whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "And we're not going anywhere, okay?"

Y/N sighed contentedly, the warmth of their bodies providing a soothing contrast to the dull ache in her abdomen. Matt lay down on her other side, his hand finding hers and intertwining their fingers.

They lay there in a comfortable silence, the world outside fading away. Chris's hand gently rubbed soothing circles on her stomach and pelvic area, while Matt's thumb stroked the back of her hand. The simple gestures, filled with love and care, slowly eased the tension from her body.

"Did you eat anything?" Matt asked softly after a while, searching for her eyes.

Y/N shook her head.

"Wasn't really hungry... and didn't felt like standing up at all."

Chris frowned, exchanging looks with Matt momentarily before going back to Y/N.

"You need to eat, petal. How about we order you something light? Some chicken soup? And then we can watch some movie, yeah?" Chris proposed, his free hand reaching for his hoodie pocket, fishing out his phone.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"That sounds nice."

And that's how the day went on, Y/N's food arrived a little under an hour later which lead the boys do rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to get the food downstairs. Matt ended up being the loser one, and while he was gone, Chris took the chance to pull Y/N closer to his body, her back now pressed against his chest, feeling his heart beating against her skin with the proximity that his strong arms around her middle created.

Her ears were able to pick the small "I love you's" that Chris whispered after each soft kiss that he planted against her head, shoulders and neck, his lips and nose caressing all of her softly, creating a permanent smile on Y/N's face, the pain fading slowly.

"Food is here!"

I could only thought about this scenario since I had my period yesterday 🤧 I hope yall like it!! 🩷

[raekensluver]

echoes of loss and love

description: you are haunted by memories of your relationship with fred weasley before his death. you feel like you're stuck in a loop, unable to move on when one day, george tells you fred was going to propose.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader, platonic!george weasley x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of the hogwarts war, fred's canon death, survivors guilt.

song rec: all i want by kodaline- "but if you loved me, why did you leave me?"

w.c: 1.8k

an: to whoever wrote that one fic where george dyes his hair blue because he hates that whenever he looks in the mirror he sees fred- count. your. days. thx !!

the morning air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of fresh dew from the burrow. you sat on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cold wooden floorboards, feeling the weight of the world press down on your shoulders. your eyes scanned the room, lingering on the frayed curtains and the chipped paint on the walls. the familiarity of it all brought a pang of nostalgia and a deep, unshakeable sadness. you had not slept well, as was the norm these days, plagued by dreams that felt more like echoes of a past life than mere nocturnal imaginings.

george lay sprawled across on his own bed on the other side of the room, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. his face was a portrait of peace, untouched by the burdens that you knew he bore in his waking hours. the sight of him there, so much like fred, yet so painfully different, brought a lump to your throat. you remembered the countless nights you had spent in this very room, sharing laughter and secrets with the two of them until the early hours of the morning. the twins had always been inseparable, a unit, a force of nature that could not be divided. but now, fred's side of the room remained cold and untouched aside from your movement, a stark reminder of the gaping hole left in both your heart and the fabric of the weasley family.

you stood up slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath you, and padded over to the window. outside, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light on the dew-kissed garden. the leaves on the trees were tinged with gold and red, whispering of the approaching autumn. it was a beautiful scene, but the beauty felt hollow, as if the vibrancy of color was only a cruel mockery of the emptiness you felt within. you leaned against the windowsill, your eyes tracing the patterns the light made on the floor.

the guilt was a heavy, constant presence, like a shadow that never left your side. you had been there when the wall exploded, when fred's life had been so brutally extinguished. the sound of the blast still reverberated in your ears, a never-ending echo of the moment that had torn your world apart. his laughter, his warmth, his very essence had been wrenched away from you, leaving nothing but cold, empty space. you could still see the look in his eyes, the flash of surprise and pain, the way his hand had reached out for you as if he could somehow pull you into safety.

for a while, george had been cold towards you, his grief a tangible barrier that you couldn't breach. every time you looked at him, you saw the accusation in his gaze, the unspoken question of why it had been fred and not you. you understood his anger, his pain, but it didn't make the silent treatment any easier to bear. the burden of guilt grew heavier with each passing day, each missed opportunity to apologize or explain, to somehow make it right. but what could you say? there were no words to justify the cruel hand of fate that had taken fred from you both.

you decided to make some tea, hoping the warmth would soothe your soul. the kitchen was quiet, the embers of the fireplace glowing dimly. as you filled the kettle with water, the rusty pipes groaned, reminding you of the burrow's age. the weasley's had lived here for generations, and it was a place filled with love and laughter. now, it felt like a museum dedicated to a happiness that no longer existed. you placed the kettle on the stove and watched as the flame grew, the heat slowly spreading through the metal.

staring at the teapot, you waited for the water to boil. it was a simple task, one that had been done countless times before in this very kitchen. but today, it felt like a monumental effort. every second that ticked by was a reminder of the moments you had lost with fred. the teapot began to whistle, a shrill sound that pierced the silence. you jumped, startled, and hastily turned off the stove. the whistle died down, leaving only the soft hiss of the cooling water. you paused, your hand hovering over the teapot, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. fred had always liked his tea with three lumps of sugar and a dash of milk, just like his mother made it. the thought brought a bittersweet smile to your face.

the door to the kitchen creaked open, and you looked up to see george standing there, his hair a wild mess from sleep. his eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt like you were seeing fred in his place, the same look of curiosity and concern mirrored in his twin's gaze. your heart clenched, and you had to look away, focusing instead on the steaming kettle. "can't sleep?" he asked, his voice thick with the grogginess of early morning.

you nodded, your voice a whisper. "same dreams."

george's eyes softened with understanding. he padded over to the table and pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the floor. "i know," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "it's like he's still here, but every time i turn around, he's gone again."

you filled two cups with tea, the warmth of the porcelain comforting against your cold palms. you slid one across the table to him, and he took it with a nod of thanks. "it's just… i can't shake the feeling that i should have done more," you confessed, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. "i should have been able to save him."

george was silent for a long moment, the only sound the clinking of spoons against the sides of the cups as you both added sugar and stirred. "you can't blame yourself," he said finally, his voice gentle. "none of us could have seen that coming. it was war, and fred knew the risks."

you took a sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. "i know that," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "but it doesn't make it any easier."

george reached across the table and took your hand in his, his grip firm and reassuring. his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent gesture of comfort. his eyes met yours, and for the first time since the battle, you saw something other than pain and anger in them. there was a glimmer of understanding, a bridge built from shared grief. "you know," he began, his voice low and tentative, "after it happened, i kept thinking about all the times we argued, all the little things that didn't seem to matter. i wish i could take them all back, tell him how much he meant to me."

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. "i do too. i wish i could tell him how much i loved him."

george took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "fred had plans for after the war."

your heart skipped a beat. plans? what could fred have planned that you didn't know about? "what do you mean?"

george's gaze fell to the table, his thumb still moving in soothing circles on your hand. "he had a ring," he said, his voice barely audible. "he was going to ask you to marry him, after the war. said he couldn't wait any longer to make it official."

a cold shock washed over you. a ring? fred had wanted to marry you? you felt your breath catch in your throat, the reality of what you had lost sinking in even deeper. "what happened to it?" you managed to ask, your voice shaking.

george's eyes searched yours, and then he got up from his chair, leaving his hand on the table. "he hid it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "he didn't want to carry it with him in case…" his voice trailed off, and you could see the pain etched on his face. he disappeared from the room, leaving you sitting there, the cup of tea cooling in your hand, the words echoing in the silence.

a few moments later, he returned, a small, worn box in his hand. he placed it on the table between you, and you could see his hand tremble as he pushed it towards you. you picked it up, your heart racing. the box was old, the leather cracked and faded, the clasp stiff with disuse. you opened it, and there, nestled in the velvet, was the ring. it was a simple band of gold, with an intricate knot design, the kind that fred had always loved. a small diamond glinted in the early morning light, winking at you like a teardrop frozen in time.

you slid the ring onto your finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for you. it was a strange sensation, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very soul, a final gift from fred that you hadn't expected. the weight of it felt right, like a piece of him that you could hold onto forever. you looked up at george, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and hope. "he picked it out himself, " he said, his voice thick with emotion. "he wanted you to know that you were it for him."

you didn't know what to say, so you just sat there, staring at the ring, feeling the warmth of fred's love through the metal. the silence stretched between you, filled with a thousand unspoken words. the sun was now fully up, casting a soft glow through the kitchen window, painting the room in shades of gold and amber. it was a moment that felt both surreal and achingly real, a moment that you knew would be etched into your memory forever.

finally, you found your voice. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes still fixed on the ring. "for telling me. for giving me this."

george nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "you were the best thing that ever happened to him," he said, his voice cracking. "i know he'd want you to have it."

you felt a lump form in your throat, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. instead, you leaned across the table and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his familiar scent, so much like fred's. it was a bittersweet moment, one that brought both solace and pain.

for a while, you sat there in silence, sipping your tea, the ring feeling like a lifeline to a past you could never quite touch again. but it was a lifeline you were grateful for, a tangible piece of fred that you could hold onto. as you sat with george, you realized that while you would never be able to fill the void left by fred's absence, you had each other. two broken halves of a whole, trying to find a new way to live in a world that had changed irrevocably.

[lizslibrary]

Mirror

Summary: Reader is Bucky's next-door neighbor when they hear him having a nightmare. Reader helps him see his reflection in the mirror and reminds him that his scars are beautiful because they are proof that he survived.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on my last story, It gave me the courage to write a second one. The last fic I wrote was done in the first person so I thought I would try my hand in second person to see how it goes. Please let me know of any compliments or criticism that you have, it would really help a lot! 🤍

Warnings: Nightmare, PTSD, Bucky being insecure, self-deprivation (Bucky,) Crying, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1339.

__________________________________

You awoke to the sound of screaming from across the hall, it didn't take long to figure out Bucky was having another nightmare. You prop yourself up on one elbow, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to being awake. Forcing yourself out of your bed, you open your door and step into the dimly lit hallway of your apartment building. You gently raise your fist and knock on Bucky's apartment door, hoping he'll answer.

Not long after, the door creaks open and Bucky stands in the doorway looking disheveled and tired. He was wearing loose sweatpants, and his skin was gleaming with sweat. his eyes reddened and brimmed with tears yet to be spilled. You stare at him for a moment noticing how his long hair is sticking to the sides of his face, and how there were dark smudges under each eye.

"Bucky?" You say softly, almost as if he was a bomb waiting to detonate. "Can I come in?"

Bucky nods quietly, holding the door open a little wider. I look around noticing how messy his apartment is. Pillows and blankets were on the ground, and his boots were on two separate sides of the room, one leaning against the TV stand, while the other was in the corner. The only furniture in the room was a small, grey couch and a little coffee table that sat between the TV and the sofa.

Bucky stared at you silently, his eyes were dark. "I'm sorry I woke you." He said, his voice low and shaky.

You shook your head "Don't worry about it Bucky, it wasn't your fault." You say gently, sitting down on his couch and gesturing for him to sit next to you. "Are you okay?"

Bucky shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair "No" He says quietly, closing his eyes. "They won't stop, every time I try to sleep these nightmares keep coming back."

Your heart began to ache at the thought of Bucky suffering through these awful nightmares, night after night. You recall all the times when he would wake you up screaming, telling you how he had just dreamt about Hyrda, about how these visions of death and violence constantly haunt him.

"You don't deserve this Bucky." You say, observing the way he covered himself up with a blanket.

Bucky turned to face you "I'm a monster..." he said lowly. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Bucky closed his eyes tightly, and tears fell freely from his cheeks.

"No Bucky, you're not." You say, gently placing your hand over his shaking one. "Bucky, you've done nothing wrong, none of this is your fault."

He looked away from you, eyes falling to the floor "I know, but I still did it."

You sigh "Buck, listen to me." You say, keeping your voice gentle. "You were being brainwashed and manipulated. They made you do horrible things that you had no control over."

Bucky remained silent, letting out a deep breath before looking at you. "They ruined me Y/n, my body is filled with ugly scars." He said pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "When I go out in public little people, children even, are scared of my arm...It just reminds me of my past and what I've done." He says softly "Hydra ruined me."

You place your hand on his blanket-covered back slowly making circles with my fingernails. "Bucky, you are the kindest most handsome man I've ever met, your past does not define your present." You say, "You have gone out of your way to protect and take care of me even before we became close."

His cheeks tinted pink "Y/n...thank you." He whispered, taking a deep breath "But-"

You stop him "No buts Bucky." You say firmly "Can I show you the Bucky that I see?" You take his hand, pulling the blanket off his back, and leading him gently into the bathroom turning him so that he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What do you see when you look at yourself?" You ask, keeping your voice soft.

Turning his head away from the mirror, Bucky swallowed hard. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he took a deep breath. "Scars..." He mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.

You nod, rubbing his back "Anything else?"

Bucky peers back to the mirror, his eyes landing on the scar tissue that connects his shoulder to his vibranium arm, he clenches his jaw and grips the sink tightly.

Your gaze is soft as you watch Bucky look at himself, with sorrow and pain. He doesn't reply as he turns away from the mirror, dropping his head in shame.

"Listen to me bucky..." You say, standing next to him in the mirror "Your scars are beautiful."

He glances up at you "How could they possibly be?" He asks, fighting back the tears that welled in his eyes.

You smile warmly "Because you fought your way out of hell, you persevered through torture and you lived; they are a reminder that you survived." You tell him, your eyes never leaving his. "You are the strongest, most beautiful man I have ever met." You say, turning to face him.

Bucky wipes his eyes quickly, inhaling sharply. He stares at you a moment before letting out a deep breath "Thank you..." He whispers, averting his eyes once more.

You squeeze his hand lightly "You don't have to thank me." You say softly. "You deserved to hear it."

Bucky stares down at you, his glossy eyes filled with gratitude, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. You wrap your arms around him in return, feeling the tension seep from his body. He sniffles "I don't deserve you doll." He whispers, bringing his forehead to rest against your shoulder.

"No, you deserve more."

You weren't sure why, but you felt like you needed to be persistent in reminding him that he was worthy of love and affection, regardless of what happened in his past.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He breathes, bringing his hand up to your head and running his fingers through your hair.

With a contented sigh, you let your fingers glide over Bucky's skin, tracing his muscles and spine. He shudders under your touch, tightening his grip around your waist. He leans into you, his forehead resting on yours.

"It feels good to hold you." He murmurs, pushing his nose against your cheek.

You smile against his chest "That's sweet Bucky, feels good to hold you too" You murmur.

Bucky lets out a soft chuckle, a light tickle brushing against your ear. You reach up, running your hand through his silky hair, gently combing it out of his eyes. You tilt his head up so that his eyes meet your own.

"Are you ready to go back to bed?" You say, staring into his eyes. You could tell that he was tired, his pale blue eyes looking dull and heavy.

He nods slowly, resting his chin against your shoulder before pulling away and walking into his room "Yeah." He mutters.

You turn around, walking back into the bedroom. As you shut the door behind you, you hear Bucky sigh as he climbs onto his bed. You walk over to the bed and sit down, facing Bucky.

He closes his eyes and lets out a long exhale "Thanks for talking to me sweetheart...You didn't have to stay up this long." He says, his voice cracking slightly.

You run your fingers through his hair "Don't worry about it Bucky, I wanted to." You say, leaning forward and kissing his forehead "Goodnight."

Bucky stares at you, looking at you as if he is trying to memorize every feature.

"Y/n?" He asks barely audible.

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay here tonight?" He says, his voice hoarse.

A small smile appears as you walk to the other side of the bed and gently crawl under the covers. immediately, Warmth envelops you as you settle into the blankets. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat from Bucky's body beneath the blankets. You lean forward, bringing your lips to his temple.

"Goodnight Buck." You murmur.

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he whispers softly, drawing you close to his chest as he drifts into the first peaceful sleep he has had in years.

[marilynthornhilllover]

*chants* Lady D size kink/tentacle kink! Lady D size kink/tentacle kink!

Kinktober fic #2

What eyes can’t see

Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Warning: smut, mommy kink, manipulative kink, cunnilingus, tentacle sex, skin marking.

A/n: this is a bit lengthy so I apologize, I’ve never written a smut fanfic on tentacle before so I hope you enjoy<3 happy spokey season👻

Dr. Alcina Dimitrescu was said to be the best gynecologist doctor in town. Everyone said that she takes care of every woman’s problems as if it were her own, and never failed to make anyone feel comfortable and every woman who ever went to her for treating left her office with what was said to be shaky legs. But the reason for this was never revealed. They all just said that she worked some kind of magic and now they feel fantastic down there and we’re able to perform their sexual duties as normal.

So there you sat, in the doctors office waiting for your name to be called, it was really late in the night and you were completely exhausted. You’ve been there since eight in the morning but the line was tremendously but since you weren’t going to be given other opportunity to be off work for a day you settled on the waiting game.

“ miss y/l/n?” Your head shot up in the direction of which your name was called and there standing was the doctors assistant. She was a short girl with an enclosed composure, a black pencil skirt with a fitted red blouse. Her hair was curled and tucked away neatly behind her ear as her green eyes smiled warmly at you but her lips didn’t mirror the action.

“ doctor Dimitrescu will see you now.” She spoke softly before retreating down the dimly lit hall. You quickly stood up, grabbed your purse with you then proceeded to follow her lead. Honestly the clinic wasn’t what you would have expected. It was small but gave off a warm and cozy vibe making everyone who entered feel safe and comfortable. The lady came to a halt infront of a big shiny black door with a gold plate that read “ Dr. Alcina Dimitrescu “ on it. She knocked three times in sync before turning the handle and allowing you to entire before her.

“ doc, this is your last patient for the night, she’s been here all more so I’d suggest rewarding her for her patience, and goodnight I’ll be taking my leave and signing out shortly ” the red head announced before she closed the door behind you. After a while you just stood there awkwardly, the office was just like the other parts of the clinic, dimly lit. Her desk took up half of the room even though it was huge. She had shelves with books and medicine and pictures on the wall of what seemed to be flowers with blood on them. Weird…. Maybe even creepy.

Her office was modern with a little bit of a historical background to it, it seemed more ancient like or maybe even European, you knew a European interior design when you see one.

The room was filled with the mixed scent of citrus and lavender but something old and sweet giving it a sweetened spicy scent. On the opposite side of the room was a bed with a sheet of plastic on it like all hospital beds but it was big and on each side had toys…. Sex toys to be exact. You saw vibrators, dildos, anal toys etc. you were too entrapped in your own world that you didn’t even notice that the raven hair goddess was now full on staring at you.

“ do they intrigue you?” A low husk voice asked, you were suddenly torn away from your trance and that’s when both your eyes met. The gaze lingered for a moment before you quickly looked away and swallowed thickly. Something about the way she looked at you made you wanna run away and never come back or even if the ground could open and sucked you in that would be nice. You could feel your face heat up and your breathing start to get shallow.

“ no need to be nervous darling….come take a seat” she spoke up again, her voice was low and dripped like honey but it had a certain roughness and firmness to it, like a soft command but you heard a little bit of exhaustion behind it as well. You found yourself obeying her order and move swiftly to sit in front of her on the chair provided, the quicker you got this over with the better. You didn’t know why you had decided to wear a short mini shirt that rested only above your upper thighs exposing your bare skin because for a moment you could have sworn that you saw her eyes lingering a little too long on your legs. When they caught your eyes again a shiver ran down your spine.

Alcina raised from her chair and slowly walked around her desk, as if she wanted to intimidate you. She carefully sat on the edge right infront of you and crossed her legs. Man she had legs for days…She studied your face for a moment before she allowed her eyes to wonder down your body. She watched how your fingers held onto your purse for dear life, how your chest heavied with every breath you took and of course you clenching your thighs shut tightly.A subtle smirk appeared on her face for a quick instant before it quickly disappeared.

“ so what brings you here today must be quite serious? My assignment says you’ve been here all morning, is that so?” She asked taking a step closer towards you, and soon you realized where the spicy smell was coming from, it was from her, her perfume was strong and it clung to you like a rope and was suffocating you. Her entire presence was intoxicating. Never once did you think an older woman could get under your skin like this….. a doctor to be exact. Well that’s a new kink unlocked for you….

Again you were broken away from your trance when a hand came in contact with your chin and pushed your head upwards.

“ what’s troubling you my dear?,you seem to keep getting lost in these thoughts up here quite often” She asked, but somehow you felt as if she already knew, obviously it was something sexual or else you would not be here. You would have gone out of town to see another doctor. You felt lost for words but you didn’t wanna seem stupid so you attempted to answer her question.

“ I—I um—I’m” you quickly became a stammering mess and quickly shut your mouth in embarrassment. She smirked and pursed her lips, shaking her head, either in encouragement or disappointment either way the gesture made your thighs clench tighter.

“ take your time darling” she interrupted, her grip on your chin tightening as her hand slowly creeped downwards to your neck. You swallowed again and squirmed in your seat.

“ I’m having trouble masturbating…..” you finally blurted out, closing your eyes shut tight expecting her to laugh or do something to match with your awkwardness but inside she just remained still and, now you felt even more stupid for closing your eyes. Alcina released your chin pivoted to retrieve a small note pad from her desk, quickly scribbling something down before putting it back down in it’s before position.

“ is that it? What do you have trouble with specifically?” She asked kneeling in front of you as her hand snaked their way up your calves then up towards your thighs, you almost jumped out of your body and her hands came to an immediate halt.

“ hey, I’m not here to make you feel comfortable ok? I’m here to help, you’re a bit tense I want you to relax ok?” She asked, almost like a whisper and you nodded.

“ use your words baby” she said firmly and you sighed.

“ yes doctor” you replied a little too loud. You cringed internally at your volume choice and hide your face in the palm of your hands. But Alcina quickly tore them away and placed them back down at your sides.

“ good girl” she purred. She gave you a pushing look which made you remember her question. You tried to think of a way to tell her your sexual problems without sounding weird but nothing was coming to mind.

“ I can’t explain it….” You whispered shyly slouching down into the chair. Alcina chuckled and looked up at you through her lashes.

“ it’s ok darling there isn’t anything I haven’t heard before and even if it is I’m sure I can find a way to work around it, I’ve been in this job for over 30 years I’m no stranger to anything, I’m a professional…..” she said, her tone of voice deepening on the last word which again caused you to shiver once more. You thought about it for a second and trust me her eyes are some of the most reassuring ones ever.

“ I can’t make myself cum….” You whispered. You didn’t even know if she heard it because it barely left your lips but regardless she better had because you wouldn’t be repeating yourself. She shook her head and smiled.

“ now that I can work with my love, now fill out this form and I’ll be right back, follow all instructions that’s there on the paper ok?” You nodded and she handed you a sheet of paper before exiting the room. You sighed a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding before looking down at the paper before grabbing a pen from her pen cup on the desk. You held the paper up close and began reading it’s contents. Some questions were quite reaching and definitely had some privacy concerns.

Some asked how you like having sex, where, toys or fingers, what were your kinks etc.But never the least you filled it out just in time for when the door opened again and alcina stepped through, you handed her the paper and she scanned through it with the best poker face you’ve ever seen before she hummed with contentment before she then proceeded to walk back to the door, locking it before returning back to her desk.

“ you can pull the curtains and take off your clothes, when your finished you’ll call me” she spoke, turning her computer back on as her finger moved swiftly over the keyboard. You stood still trying your best to process what she just asked you to do.

“ you need me to get naked?” You asked in slight disbelief and you watch as she nods but not looking up to properly confirm.

“ I need to do some tests” she replies when she realizes that you went quiet.

“ and what test require me to be naked?” You asked with maybe too much attitude, now you got her attention. She glanced up at you and for a moment you see her stern poker face crack and little and a glint of desire pass through her eyes, but she masks it well and cover it up with a twitch in her eyebrow.

“I’m sorry are you here to get help or ask me about my job because by all means continue I have all night my next shift doesn’t start until ten tomorrow…” the room goes quiet and the tension continues to rise until it becomes unbearable so you just comply and proceed behind the curtains and begin taking off your clothes. Then you were abruptly interrupted when alcina steps in and pulls a rollable stool infront of you. You quickly cover yourself and look away.

“ up on the bed and spread your legs” at this point you couldn’t even complain. You came here for something now you need to let her do her job. You hoped up onto the bed and pressed your back against the plastic pillow and slowly opened your legs shyly. You were honestly kind of embarrassed because you were damp down there and you didn’t know why, maybe it was the sexual tension between you both, or maybe it’s the fact that no woman has ever seen you down there before. Alcina drew her stool closer towards the edge of the bed and pulled you down by your ankles and you release an audible gasp.

She pulled out a box of gloves from her cabinet and put on a pair.

“ chose a toy and demonstrate to me how exactly you play with yourself” she hoaxed out, your breathing became more elaborated and it came out in shorten breaths, alcina sensed your hesitation so she gently caressed your ankles. You dipped two fingers down between your folds and started sliding them through your wet slits gasping quietly at the contact. You refused to make eye contact with her, she had something naturally sinful in her eyes. Your fingers took their time and dragged themselves up towards your clit, drawing out small circles around the small bud.

You eyes closes and you bite your lip as you dip two of your digits into you soaked cunt. A moan coarses its way from your throat as you slowly start pumping your fingers within yourself. You started off with a slow intense pace before you increased it going deeper and rougher, but no matter how fast you went you never seemed to reach a high or a climax, it was like walking towards something but the closer you got the further out you had to walk. The room was filled with the sound of your fingers slotting themselves in and out of your cunt and your gentle quiet moans. You fingers eventually got tired and you stopped with an exaggerated sigh.

You opened your eyes and you were met with the most lustful stare by alcina, you almost forgot where you were and seeing her lustful eyes made you tremble under her gaze.

“ ok, I can see you have a mental block mostly, your not thinking about the pleasure enough, your not touching yourself before or properly at all— have you ever had sex with anyone? Man, woman?” She asked emphasizing on the last word a tad bit too much. You shook your head and she nodded.

“ ok here’s what i want you to do, just lay back and close your eyes for me ok?” You nod and she flashes you a warm smile for the first time since you’ve entered the office and for once you had hope but you hoped you wouldn’t leave this room with a crush on your doctor because god knows that wouldn’t end well. You fixed the pillow behind yourself and layed down spreading your legs to the widest they could go. Suddenly alcina comes up to you and places a soft peck against your lips.

Your taken back by the sudden action for a second but soon enough you caught on to what she was trying to do. You kissed her back with more force and passion and she matched you in an instant. Her lips were soft but played a dangerous game, the heat of it all was getting to you. You moaned against her lips which gave her the perfect opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth without a fust. Her tongue fought against your in a battle for dominance but after a while you gave up and fully submitted to her. You loved the way her tongue felt roaming your mouth.

She then broke the kiss and began kissing her way down your neck and collarbone all the way down to your chest. She nipped at one of your nipples before pulling a bud into her mouth. She sucked gently on the bud before gently grazing her teeth on it before continuing sucking and pulling at it. You swore you felt a small thud or heartbeat in your pussy that you never felt before. She was making you feel things and it was intense. You didn’t know how to feel about it. You don’t know if you should run or hide or scream and jump.

One of you hands reached up and grabbed her hair pressing her mouth closer to you as your eyes looked down at her. As if she could sense you looking up at her eyes locked with yours. Alcina was a smart woman, skilled too, she distracted you for a moment and got you turned on so she could insert two fingers into your cunt with ease. Your eye contact with her came to an end as they now rolled back. The moan you let out was absolutely loud absolutely pornographic.

Your hands flew to something to cling onto but you ended up tearing the plastic on the bed instead, oops too that’s too damn bad. The stretch was brutal, but it felt so good, the way she filled you up was uncomfortable but you loved it. you’ve been fingering yourself for years and never once did you feel this good. It felt as if she was tearing your pussy apart but pleasure quickly subsided the pain. Alcina kissed your stomach as she continued her way down until she was face to face with your cunt. Her fingers slowly began easing their way in and out of you in a way that felt too damn good to be true.

You could feel your world spinning as your mind began to get clouded, ascending you to cloud nine.

You whimpered desperately as she slowly starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot and nudging your clit every time. She’s so gentle but so rough making the pleasure build inside you slowly, burying deep in your gut and creeping up your spine. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible and you could feel a weird tingling feeling deep within your stomach and you try to shake it off as much as possible but it soon becomes unbearable. Alcina continues her work for a while before she releases her fingers and allows her mouth to take over. You feel her tongue move across your clit a few times teasing the small bud before making it’s way up and down your folds flavoring your taste.

What this woman was making you feel was nothing like what you’ve ever felt before and it was scary. Your hands flew to her hair as you tried to pull her away but she wouldn’t budge. Your back arches and you feel this overwhelming pressure building up in your lower abdomen and your entire body feels like it’s about to go up in flames at any given moment.

“ fuck— alci— doctor please i—I can’t do this, it’s too much” you breathed out before a moan over took you and your back arched again and your grip in her hair tightens. Her eyes flick up towards your and you swear you see her smirk. She’s chuckles softly and the vibration goes straight to your core. She pulls away and you feel something slimey creep it’s ts way up your thigh. You flinch and look down to see a dark tentacle submerging from alcinas back. Your eyes widen and you feel like running away for real this time but the fear feels good.

Sticky substance drips from your thigh area where it was before it makes it’s way further up your cunt.

“ I’ve always wanted to use my tentacles on someone” she purred sinfully.

“ I wanna make you cum on them til you break” she whispered. The tentacle makes it’s up up to your hole and hovers itself there for a while. It was huge, we’re talking big dick energy here, just in the form of a tentacle. It was fucking hot.

“ I want you to fuck me so bad, pleaseplease make me cum I wanna cum so bad” you became a broken record for her and you didn’t care. You needed to be stuffed you needed to be filled so good. It runs down your slit ,letting the slick suckers wake up your pussy, sliding through the sticky mess that was dripping out of your cunt. The tentacle suddenly gently slid it’s s way into your hole which caused you to prop yourself up onto your elbows and let out a soft cry of pleasure. It stretches you open so good it’s unbelievable.

You whine uncontrollably when he tentacle began thrusting fast and at a deep curved angle within you. Your muscles clench and spasm around it as the suckers brush hastily against all the best spots inside you.

“ that’s it baby I’m right here, be a really good girl and mommy will reward you” you manage to hear alcina say as another one of your whines overshadows the room. The tentacle fucks into your pussy at a fast pace and you feel your walls closing in. The squelching noise was driving you insane. The slithering slimey feeling of being fuck and stuffed by a tentacle was unmatched. Alcina used her finger to help you climax faster by rubbing your clit at a fast pace.

“ oh my fucck—feels so fucking good” you cry as you felt how the tentacle had now curved itself in you, kissing you cervix at just the right angle and pace, you looked down to see the most beautiful sight of alcina focused on rubbing tight circles around your clit to the little tummy bulge that was evident on you lower abdomen. Alcina spreads your legs a little wider getting the tentacle a deeper access in you and your eyes roll back as you grabbed the plastic. You feel your body spasm and trash against the bed as the feeling of what felt like cumming and squirting completely took over you.

You felt as your pussy clenched down hard against the tentacle causing it to flatten and squirm inside you. Your back arches a little when your juices shoot out from you as you squirted. You feel the tentacles release their own juices inside you before taking their time exiting you and disappearing. You looked up at Alcina who was smirking down at you.

“ you came here not knowing how to simply cum and now you just learned how to squirt naturally? Fast learner I must say” she gets up and pushes the stool away, she takes your hand in hers and sits you up on the bed.

“ I’ll see you on Thursday for a follow up session” she said with the smirk of the devil….. you walked out of the office with shaking legs and small bruises along your inner thighs but you couldn’t be more eager for Thursday to approach….

[worksby-d]

Tangled up with you all night

Pairing: Ari Levinson x escort!Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Your favorite client has a surprise for you on Valentine's Day.

Warnings: AU, voyeurism, threesome, oral (f + m receiving), m masturbation, unprotected sex, fingering, anal, 18+

Word count: ~3,500

A/n: This is my first time writing more than one character in the same fic, so I hope it's readable!!! I enjoyed writing this a lot and I'm excited about it and I hate saying that cause I fear I'll jinx it and it'll flop, but I really hope you enjoy it if you give it a chance 🥹💝 Happy Valentine's Day!

You’re no stranger to the dimly lit, quiet hallway. The walls have echoed the sound of your heels against the tile floor back to you countless times. Instructions are always the same – Let yourself in, the door is unlocked. 

Your first time here was terrifying. It was one of your first jobs and you were naive back then. Who knew there were guys so desperate for your company that they would trust you enough to just walk into their penthouses. 

You remember your hand shaking as you took a deep breath and reached for the door. It’s funny now because it couldn’t be any more different than how you confidently stride in tonight. 

Since then, this guy – Ari – has become one of your regulars. Despite what you were there for that first night, he had a way of making you feel comfortable instantly, which certainly isn’t always the case. 

“You couldn’t get anyone else to keep you company on Valentine’s Day?” Your quip carries as you walk in. The sound of ice falling into a few glasses tells you he’s behind his bar, so you follow it. “Had to settle for me?” 

“It was you or no one.” He winks as he tops off your drink, always sure to have your favorite ready for you. “You know that by now, sweetheart.”

He’s told you time and time again that you’re the only reason he keeps the agency’s business card on hand. But you’ve convinced yourself that he tells all the girls that… In an attempt to not get attached. He makes it damn hard not to though.

Taking the drink from his reached out hand, you roll your eyes. That’s when they land on another man walking into the room. 

“Oh–” You’re mid sip when you pull your glass away from your mouth, licking the small amount of alcohol off your lips. A switch flips and your professional persona is back on – Standing up straight with an innocent smile on your face. “I wasn’t expecting…”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Ari’s mouth. “Surprise.” 

It’s clear to you where this is going, but you know men are simple creatures – They like when you play dumb. So you cock your head slightly, feigning confusion. 

“This is Steve.” 

You take in the sight of him – Tall, built, sleeves rolled up showing his to-die-for forearms. It’s your lucky day, you think to yourself. What are the chances of two attractive guys spending their Valentine’s Day with you? 

You snap yourself out of ogling him, finally speaking to him. “Just ‘Steve’?” 

You’re used to no last names, but it’s fun to tease them about it. 

“For now,” he nods, mirroring your smile. 

“Then hi, Steve,” you nod, holding out your hand to shake his. 

It's his turn to let his eyes wander, but he's respectful about it, not letting his gaze linger for an uncomfortable amount of time. His eyes reach yours again and he lets go of your hand. 

He shakes his head as if he's speechless for a moment. “Even more beautiful in person.”

“A smooth talker like Ari, huh?” You giggle. 

Ari hands your drink back to you. 

You flash him a smile, not dropping the innocent act yet. “Is your friend, Steve, staying?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” Ari sees right through it. “Why don't you go get ready for us? He brought a gift for you, you gotta try it on.” 

Who are you to deny a gift? You let Ari walk you toward his bedroom door so he can have just a second alone with you. 

“As long as it's okay with you…” His voice is low and genuine. He may pay to have sex with you, but he's still a gentleman. “I thought it would be fun to try something new, but you know I never want you to do anything you don't want to–”

“It's fine,” you chuckle, bringing a hand up to pat his cheek. “I promise it's fine. He better be as good as you though.” 

With a teasing look, you open the door to step into his room and shut it again behind you before he can say fuck it and follow you in.

His bedroom is cozy. You've always thought that. He keeps it dark, allowing the glow from the city lights outside to illuminate it just enough – Just enough for the unspeakable things you ever do in here anyway. 

Your eyes drift from the windows to the bed where there's a small box with a bow tied around it. There's a tag and it's addressed to you from Steve. 

You would never ask any of these guys to their faces, but you always wonder if they know that gifts that aren't lingerie exist. Or even just different looking gift boxes to throw you off every once in a while. 

Carefully removing the bow, you open the box. You can tell by the neatly folded lace and mesh that it’s a babydoll set. Matching red panties fall from underneath the top as you hold it up to take a look.

The lace detailing across your chest leaves little to the imagination as you look at yourself in the mirror once you have it on. 

As if the two men in the other room can sense that you're ready, they walk in right as you're sitting on the edge of the bed to wait for them. 

“Hot damn,” Ari whistles when his eyes fall on you. 

So far, you can tell Steve is more reserved. He settles for a—not quite silent—but a whispered wow as he pulls the door closed behind him.

“Thanks for the gift, Steve.” 

You flash him a soft smile and bat your eyelashes, leaning back to subtly push your chest forward. It works every time. His eyes noticeably linger there before making their way back up to yours. 

Ari senses the tension between the two of you. You catch the smirk on his face—as if he’s a proud matchmaker—as he takes a few more steps to get close to you. 

The brush of his fingers against your cheek gets you to look up at him. 

“Why don’t we let you and Steve get acquainted first, hm?”

Nodding, you glance at Steve and he’s looking back at you for your approval. 

The wave of your hand tells him to come closer and Ari steps back to take a seat on the sofa that faces the bed so he can watch the two of you. 

“Sit,” you tell Steve, letting him switch places with you. 

You do a slow twirl in front of him, showing off the set he got you, sure to move just enough so the hem of the top flows up, revealing the pretty bottoms underneath.

“Does it look as good on me as you hoped it would?” He bites his lip, admiring the way it hugs your body. You can tell it’s taking everything in him not to touch you, so you lean forward to whisper in his ear, “You can touch me.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. His hands go for your hips, finger tips pressing into your skin as he pulls you to straddle his lap. 

“It looks beautiful.” His fingers trace some of the lace. “Pretty sure you would make anything look good though.”

“There you go with the smooth talking again,” you laugh. “What do you want me to call you?” Your hands come up to begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Just your name? Sir… Maybe daddy?”

You suppress your smile when you swear you feel his cock twitch beneath you. 

“What do you call Ari?” He asks, glancing over at his friend. 

Before he can answer, you put your hand on Steve’s cheek to get his eyes back on you. 

“He just has me call him Ari because he’s boring,” you joke. “I make fun of him all the time for it.”

“Got it,” he chuckles. “My name is fine too.” 

“Yawn,” you sigh, pulling his shirt off of him and tossing it to the floor. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “What do I call you?”

“Whatever you want,” you smirk. 

Steve’s quick to once again switch places with you, laying you at the edge of the bed so he can kneel between your legs. 

Holding yourself up on your elbows, your head rolls back when he begins placing soft kisses along your inner thighs. He grins to himself, noticing the chill bumps that follow his touch as he caresses your legs. 

He pulls away slightly to get your attention and looks up at you. “May I?”

His fingers hook on the waistband of your panties and you think he’s asking if he can take them off of you. So you nod, but he’s impatient, settling on just pulling them to the side instead.

He shakes his head seeing how wet you are for him already. “Gorgeous.”

A guttural groan falls from his lips before his mouth is on your pussy. 

“Oh–” You gasp, letting your head fall back again. “God, Steve.” 

You usually have to put on a show during sessions, but never with Ari, and not with this Steve guy either. Your moans and the arch of your back is genuine as he skillfully devours your pussy. 

His tongue on your clit has your breaths becoming more shallow already. Lifting your head back up, you reach a hand down to run your fingers through his hair and give yourself leverage as you roll your hips against his face. 

He chuckles and the vibrations from his voice have your eyes falling shut. With a few more strokes of his tongue along your slit, he slowly eases off, back to pressing a few last kisses to your thighs. 

You let out a frustrated sigh. It felt too good for him to stop. He must have gotten a run down of the rules from Ari, you think to yourself. He knew not to let you come yet. 

He untangles your fingers from his hair and holds your hand to pull you back up so you’re sitting in front of him. You let your lips meet his in a slow kiss, tasting yourself on him. 

Ari clears his throat, reminding you both that he’s there. He’s rid himself of his clothes as he watched Steve warm you up. 

“Send her over here,” he says from his spot on the sofa. 

Steve breaks the kiss and gets out of the way so you can stand up. Your few steps toward Ari are done on shaky legs, practically falling into his lap once you get to him. But he stops you, holding his hands on your hips. 

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head. “Face Steve.” 

He helps you turn to face away from him, quickly helps you remove your panties, and guides you to sit back with your knees on either side of his thighs. 

You reach down to stroke his cock a few times. He’s hard already from watching you and Steve. 

Both of you moan out in unison as you sink down onto him. You have enough sex where you’d think it would be easy by now, but something about Ari is different. The way his cock stretches you open proves to be painful every time, but it’s a welcome pain, a pain that you crave when you’re not with him. 

“Missed this, didn’t you?” He teases. All you can do is nod pathetically. “I know you always do.” 

He helps you roll your hips, taking his cock as deep as you can. His hand slipping down, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, makes you cry out. 

He knows what he’s doing. You won’t be able to hold back much longer. And he doesn't want you to. 

“You getting shy on me?” He whispers, kissing your shoulder when you become quiet, focused on not coming yet. 

You groan, legs beginning to quiver. “You know I’m not supposed to come until you have.” 

He doesn’t let up. “Who’s gonna know?”

Your gaze shoots toward his friend on the bed who’s stroking his cock as he watches Ari fuck you. 

“Him? You can trust him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.”

Your eyes clench shut as you continue to ward off your orgasm. 

“You don’t mind if she comes before us, do you?” He asks Steve. 

“God no,” he moans, keeping his eyes on the way your cunt swallows Ari’s cock. “She can come as much as she wants for all I care.”

“You heard him,” Ari whispers in your ear. His fingers press harder against your swollen clit. “Come for us, princess.”

“Ah–” Your body betrays you, easily giving in to them. 

The eruption of pleasure renders you numb, Ari having to take over to prolong your high. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” 

Maybe he is just that strong, but it must be part adrenaline too, the way he manhandles you, keeping you bouncing on his cock when you don’t feel like you have control over your body to keep moving yourself. 

“Ari!” You cry out, unable to take anymore. You can lift up just enough to let him slip out of you. “Fuck.”

Your chest heaves as you take a few shuddering breaths. He laughs a little, but you’re too in a daze to even notice. He keeps his hands on you as support while you turn to sit beside him with your legs over his and your head against his shoulder. 

“I’ll have to start paying you at this point,” you joke. 

“Nonsense…” His hand caressing your thigh moves slowly, nestling between your legs to part them, and you don’t know if his careful movement is out of consideration of the fact he just gave you a numbing orgasm that your body is still recovering from, or if he’s doing it to tease you and keep you a mess for him. “Your pleasure is my pleasure, remember?”

Your head falls back, lips parting in a silent moan when his fingers brush against your used cunt. 

“Oh, sorry.” He frowns at you, voice laced with fake sympathy. “Are you sensitive?”

“Fuck you,” you laugh, hiding your face against his neck when it turns into a whimper. 

When he lets up, you can’t help the quiet sigh of relief that escapes you. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees for me now?”

“What about Steve?” You ask, giving him a wink before looking back to Ari with a pout.

“Greedy girl,” he chuckles. “Gonna let him have his turn fucking you?”

His hand slapping your cunt elicits a gasp from you.

All you can do is shake your head. You’re not used to being with two guys. Usually a blow job would mean a break for your poor pussy, but not tonight. 

He leans to whisper closer to your ear, “What if we let him have your ass instead then, hm?”

“What?” You’re a little taken aback. “You’re the only one I let do that.”

“Only me?” An amused smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t know that. “You fuck all these men and only I’ve had this pretty ass?”

You just shrug. A wave of heat washes over your skin. 

“I knew I was your favorite,” he teases. “You can trust him though. I’ll make sure he’s gentle.”

“Here,” Ari says, handing Steve a bottle of lube. 

You impatiently reach for Ari’s hand to pull him onto the bed with you. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He chuckles at the desperation, giving in to you easily. “Trust me.”

Your eyes are fixated on his hard cock as he sits in front of you, legs spread to accommodate the position you’re in on your hands and knees. Lowering your head to take him in your mouth, he stops you with a hand resting on your cheek. 

“Not yet.” 

He waits for your eyes to meet his so he knows you’re listening, and you give him a nod. 

Steve’s behind you proving your earlier assumption about him being more reserved. His hands roam your hips and your ass, reacquainting you with his touch while you grow desperate for more. You swear any other guy would damn near be coming by now instead of making you wait for it. 

A frustrated groan is at the tip of your tongue and Ari can sense it. 

“Slap her,” he tells Steve. “She likes that.”

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel the strike of his palm against your ass. And another slap elicits a soft moan from you. 

Ari doesn’t let you look away from him as Steve gets more comfortable with you, finally dripping some lube to rub against your tight hole. 

“That feel alright?” He asks, teasing you with his thumb. 

You sigh. “Yes.”

Since you can't look back, you cast your pleading eyes at Ari. 

“Oh–” You whimper, feeling him press his finger deeper. “Please.”

“Please what?” Ari can't suppress his smile. He loves fucking with you. “Tell us.”

“I…” I don’t know, you want to choke out. “Need both of you!”

“There you go,” he coos, rubbing his thumb against your cheek as he looks at Steve behind you. “Give it to her.”

Steve strokes his cock a few times before pressing the head of it against your tense hole. You suck in a breath at the feeling and he gently pats your lower back. 

“Breathe, darling.”

Ari drops his hand from your face as you let out the breath and you take that as your cue to finally touch him. 

You move your hand, resting it on his thigh. Your fingertips press against his skin as Steve pushes his cock deeper into you. 

“Oh, wow.” Your jaw trembles, dropping open in a broken moan. “That feels good. Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he groans. 

You pull it together to run your hand up Ari’s thigh, reaching to wrap your fingers around his cock, but he puts a hand on your wrist, halting you. 

“No hands,” he tells you. “Just that pretty mouth.”

“Why?” You have enough sense yet to poke fun at him. “You’ll come too fast?”

He scoffs, shaking his head at you, but he can’t help but smile. 

“Harder, Steve.” He presses his hand against the back of your head to bring you down to his cock and you more-than-willingly open your mouth for him. “She can clearly take it if she’s still talking to us like that.”

“Shit, I know she can,” he pants. You moan around Ari’s dick as you push your hips back against Steve. “She’s fucking back against me she’s so desperate for it.”

“Christ.” 

Ari’s head falls back. The room echoes with pleasure-filled sounds from all three of you. He keeps his hand on you as your head moves up and down, stilling you even when he feels you gag on him. 

“Rub your clit, baby. Come for us again.”

You’re determined for them to let go before you this time. You listen to Ari, slipping your hand beneath you to play with your clit as Steve fucks you harder.

Not that you need to fake your pleasure with them, but you do play it up a little bit with some louder moans, letting the hum of your voice bring Ari over the edge. 

“Fuck yes,” he groans, cock twitching as his release spills against your tongue. You gently ease off of him as you swallow what you can. He swears he could lose it again when you drop your face to lick up the rest of the mess that drips down his length and onto his skin. “There you go.”

You don’t miss a beat of continuing to tease your sensitive clit. The trembling of your legs has you clenching around Steve’s cock to keep yourself from coming yet. But as soon as you feel his hips stutter and his grip on your waist tighten to keep you in place, you let go. Your pleasure draws his out and your movements are sloppy, but you push your hips back against him again until he can’t take it anymore, reluctantly pulling out of you. 

You can’t hold in the whine you let out when you lose the feeling of being full of him. It felt too good, but they don’t keep their hands off of you long enough for you to beg for more. 

Ari knows you won’t be able to move on your own, so he helps you turn over to sit with your back against him as he holds your legs back for Steve to get between them and clean up the mess he and you made. 

“You’re a fucking dream,” he laughs, pressing kisses against your neck. 

Between the feeling of his lips and the occasional nips against your sensitive skin and the feeling of Steve taking his time, lapping at your pussy, residual jolts of pleasure course through your body. 

“You can–” You’re cut off by your own quiet moan. “Damn– Bring the rest of your friends if they’re all this good.”

You feel his smirk and you know his words are a promise. “I’ll remember that.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby @cutedisneygrl

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Day three: Ghost!Idia obsessed with his darling

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Ghost Idia, my beloved 🥺💕. I've been meaning to explore the concept of a ghost yandere because it sounded fun tbh. Though there was so many ideas for this fic aaaa, in the end i liked it just like it ended.

You had always heard stories about the restless dead, about how they would return if they had unresolved matters but you never expected one to be so fixated on you - or, to be more clear, for your dead boyfriend to still seek you out. Idia Shroud wasn’t supposed to linger in this world, yet here he was, more present in death than he ever had been in life.

He hovered at the edges of your vision, his ghostly form a flickering shadow you could never quite escape.

And though you tried to convince yourself it was just your imagination, perhaps the grief, you couldn’t deny that familiar voice calling out to you, whispering words that chilled your blood and stirred something in your heart. He both comforted you and terrified, he wiped your tears and made you cry harder.

There was no in-between.

“You can’t run forever, beloved,” His voice echoed one evening as you sat alone in your dimly lit room, food cold and untouched as another set of tears fell from your eyes. “Tears don't suit you, a smile does. And you used to smile so prettily when I was alive. You remember?"

You froze, eyes darting around but there was no sign of him. Not physically, at least. The air grew colder, and you saw your breath cloud in front of you, you hugged yourself tighter. You felt fingers ghosting over your shoulder, and his voice came again, closer this time, dripping with an unsettling affection. “Why do you keep pretending? You’re meant to be with me.”

“I-I’m not supposed to be with you.” You stammered, trying to summon the courage to deny him. To give him peace, as he deserves. “You’re gone, Idia. You should rest.”

“I can’t rest when you’re still here,” He snapped, his voice taking on an edge of desperation, his fingers digging into your shoulders painfully as he blinked a million times. “You don’t get it, do you? You were my world, my reason to live... I can't rest without you, even in death. I can't move on, not yet..."

You tried to ignore him but he was always there, always watching, always doing something that scared you. Every mirror in your home fogged up when you tried to look yourself in it, words scrawled in the condensation: Come to me. You don't love anymore? Please please please please.

At night, you’d feel him brush your hair away from your face, his touch icy and tingling, leaving goosebumps in its wake, as he lied by your side, trying to cuddle you even if it was impossible now.

“You look so lonely,” He’d murmur, voice as soft as the wind outside, as you closed your eyes and pretended to sleep. "I hate seeing you like this... Come to me, my love. Let's be together again.”

A single tear fell from your eye as you slept, cold and shivering. Life wasn't fair. He was dead, yet he was here.

You could touch him, could see and hear him. Life was cruel.

Every day became harder. Your friends stopped calling. Your lights flickered constantly, leaving you in darkness more often than not. Doors would lock on their own and windows refused to open, trapping you in this reality where only he existed. And he was always there, waiting for you to finally break.

Waiting for you to cry and drink yourself to sleep. Sometimes, you'd just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

One night, you woke to find him sitting at the foot of your bed, his ghostly form more solid than ever before. His hair glowed faintly, illuminating the pale, almost ethereal skin of his face.

There was an intensity in his golden eyes, a longing that made your heart skip a beat. “I’ve waited long enough,” Idia mutters, voice trembling with emotion. “I can’t stand to watch you suffer in this world anymore.”

You tried to pull away, but his fingers wrapped around your wrist, and despite their icy chill, they felt real. Too real. “Idia… please…”

“I can make all the pain go away,” He whispered to you, his voice rising. “All you have to do is come with me. It’s not so bad, I promise.” He leaned closer, his breath cold against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “We can be together forever. No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “But I’m still alive.”

He smiled, a sad, resigned smile that made your heart ache, there were tears in his own eyes as he stared at you. “Not for long, love.” He murmured.

“You belong with me. You always have.” He reached out, his touch more tangible than before, and you could feel your heart slowing, your breath hitching, as if he were draining the life from you with every second you spent in his presence.

“It’s okay,” Idia whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes searching yours with an almost frantic desperation. “It won’t hurt. I’ll be right here. I’ll always be here.”

“Idia, no—” you tried to pull away, but your body was growing heavy, and all you could see were those glowing eyes, all you could hear was his voice, begging you to stay, to give in, to let him take you away from this world that had always been so cruel.

“Please, Yuu-shi!” He breathed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, the contact sending a shock through your system. “I love you. I need you. Come with me… please."

And as your vision blurred, as the warmth seeped from your body, you could feel him smile against your lips, feel his relief wash over you like a wave.

“That’s it,” He whispered, his voice fading as everything went dark. “We’ll be together now… Forever.”

[reiding-writing]

For a Halloweeny fic you could do like a bau!reader and Spencer going to a haunted house while away on a case.. you could make it more fluffy or more a thriller/drama thing, whatever you're feeling like <<3

HAUNTED HOUSE — SPENCER REID!

you and spencer search a ‘haunted’ house, that might actually be haunted.

a/n — a little halloween blurb, thanks for the idea !!

masterlist.

You and Spencer are sent to investigate an old, crumbling house on the outskirts of a small town in rural Illinois, a place that even the locals keep their distance from.

Supposedly, it’s haunted—whispers of creaking floorboards and flickering lights drift around like the dust in its empty rooms. But it was also a likely suspect for where kids kept going missing around the area, so it couldn’t be left unsearched.

Spencer looks slightly pale as he stands beside you, adjusting his flashlight, gaze fixed firmly on the front door like he's trying to psych himself up. He’s heard the rumours too, and you know how superstitious he can get.

“Ready to meet our resident ghost?” you ask, a grin twitching at the corners of your mouth.

Spencer tries to hide a frown. “I don’t believe in ghosts, you know,” he mumbles, a touch of defensiveness in his tone. “But historically, homes like these… well, they do tend to have unusual histories.”

You give him a mock-solemn nod, widening your eyes dramatically. “Right. Unusual histories. Very rational.” And with that, you push open the door, stepping into the cold darkness beyond.

The house is dimly lit, with thick shadows pooling in every corner. Your flashlight beam skims over a musty rug, tarnished wallpaper peeling at the edges, and a cracked mirror that only reflects your flashlight’s weak glow. It’s quiet. Too quiet. You see Spencer shiver slightly as he steps in behind you, his expression determined but slightly uneasy.

You let a silence hang between you, just long enough for him to start looking around nervously. Then, slowly, you lean in and whisper, “You feel that, right? Like… something’s watching?”

Spencer visibly tenses. “Don’t start,” he murmurs, but his eyes dart around as if he’s trying to catch sight of something shifting in the shadows. “There’s no statistical evidence to support hauntings—”

A floorboard creaks sharply underfoot, and Spencer’s voice dies. He goes completely still, clutching his flashlight like it’s a lifeline. You suppress a laugh, barely.

“What was that?” he whispers.

You lean in, voice low and conspiratorial. “I heard that the ghost here likes to knock… three times…” You knock three times against the nearest wall. The sound echoes through the empty house.

Spencer flinches, his face a mix of surprise and mild horror. He opens his mouth, probably to throw some scientific reasoning at you, but then, down the hallway, another knock answers. A hollow, soft thud—just once, but loud enough to reach you both.

You raise an eyebrow, turning to Spencer. “Was that you?”

He shakes his head slowly, eyes wide. “No. That… that must have been… the house settling.”

“Right, right,” you say, not buying it one bit. “The house settling. Just like all those stories about people hearing whispering voices or seeing strange figures here. Probably just… wind, right?”

You watch his face, noting the way his brow furrows. He’s still holding onto his skepticism, but only by a thread.

You press on, deepening your voice and dropping into your best spooky narrator impression. “I heard the ghost is a woman who lost her eyes in an accident… can’t see, but they say she walks these halls… blindly searching for her next victim.”

Spencer’s mouth opens slightly, but he’s too tense to even object now. He flicks his flashlight down the hallway as if daring the ghost to appear.

The moment is perfect.

You slip behind him as he takes another cautious step forward, and in a low, breathy whisper, you murmur, “Spencer…”

He spins around, eyes wide with sheer panic. His flashlight beam swings wildly around the room, and he barely contains a yell. He narrows his eyes, catching your grin, and lets out an exasperated breath. “You— You’re impossible.”

You chuckle, but before you can answer, there’s a soft scratching sound from somewhere upstairs. The mirth fades a little from your expression. That one didn’t sound like it came from either of you.

Spencer glances at you, his look equal parts accusation and genuine fear. “You… didn’t set that up, did you?”

For a second, you almost want to tell him yes, that it was just another part of the prank. But the scratching continues, persistent, and… you can’t deny the chill creeping up your spine.

“It’s probably just a rat,” you suggest, not as confident as before. And, Spencer’s nod is just as unsure.

“A rat, right….”

[beat-the-morning]

Stop hovering || Hozier x reader

Kinktober - Day 4: Facesitting

prompt list

Tags: facesitting, dom/sub undertones, nipple play

Summary: Andrew wants to try something new after you come back from a night out

Word count: 2k

A/N: I’m not doing tomorrow’s fic (breathplay) so don’t expect it. Will be doing the one for 6th but idk if I’ll get it done in time

||💙FIC UNDER CUT💙||

You looked at yourself in the full length mirror in the hallway, examining the state of your dress after a night out with your friends, a single lamp right in front of it as your only source of light. It was almost perfect, save for the wet patch at the top of it that had your drunk friend and their spilled drink to blame, somehow making you the one that smelled the most like alcohol despite being the designated driver for the night. You shrugged it off, telling yourself that you’d clean it up in the morning while you took it off and carried it with you in your arm as you went upstairs, you made your way to the bathroom to take your makeup off, finding the light on, shining from the crack at the bottom of the door and the sound of running water coming from inside.

“Andrew?” You knocked loudly on the door. You’d assumed that your boyfriend would be asleep by now, seeing as it was almost three in the morning, but the two of you lived alone in his house in the countryside, so it could only be him.

The sound of water stopped, you heard the sound of wet footsteps approaching the door and unlocking it. “Oh, hi baby.” He said with a smile, his hair damp, water droplets running down his chest and stomach, collecting at the towel he had wrapped around his lower waist. “I thought you’d come back later.”

“Why are you in the shower in the middle of the night?” You asked, taking in his flustered expression.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He said plainly.

“And you thought a shower would help?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckled at your question, a sultry smile remaining on his face as he spoke. “But what I did before the shower usually does.”

You raised an eyebrow, breaking into soft laughter as you realised what he was implying. “And why didn’t you fall asleep after that, then?” You teased.

“I didn’t realise it’d shoot that far… got up to my chest hair and the tissues didn’t feel clean enough.” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about the fact that he’d accidentally come on his own chest.

“If you’d waited a bit I could’ve helped and you wouldn’t have made a mess.”

“I didn’t know if you’d be drunk or not, and you know I don’t like to do things when you’re the only one that’s drunk.” He raised his hand from his waist where he was holding the towel and caressed your cheek, the sultry smile remaining. “You aren’t drunk though.”

“I’m not, I was the designated driver tonight.” You leaned into his touch, reaching out to pull him down to your level and kissing him lovingly.

“Lucky me, then.”

“Depends on what you’re thinking of doing.”

“Don’t worry about that right now, just get comfortable, I’ll be in our bed waiting for you.” He whispered, kissing you for a second before leaving to the bedroom.

You finally entered the bathroom, taking off your makeup, letting your hair free and quickly doing your quicker nighttime skincare routine since something was telling you that you’d be too exhausted to do it after whatever Andrew had planned for tonight. You freshened up, looking at yourself in the mirror and making sure you looked as cute as you could after a night out, then headed to your bedroom.

The space was dimly lit by the lamps at the bedside tables on each side of the bed, you looked around it, it was slightly messy with some clothes scattered on the floor, but you liked it, it was cozy. You spotted Andrew’s guitar on the floor next to his side of the bed, he must’ve brought it in here while you were out, since it wasn’t there when you left with your friends, his lyric notebook, old and practically bursting with the amount of extra pages he’d added on to it through the years, sat opened on the bedside table, words scribbled onto it that you couldn’t make out. Andrew was sitting on the bed dressed in just a pair of Calvin Klein boxers, looking at something in his phone, you finally stepped into the light from your lamp on your side of the bed, he smiled when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. He left his phone on top of his notebook, turning to look at you, eyes full of love and lust.

“There you are,” he said as you crawled over to him, pulling you into his arms the moment he could reach you.

“You’ve been writing something?” You asked, pointing towards the guitar with your eyes.

“Hm,” he smiled, “I have, yeah, I’ll show you when it’s a bit more polished.”

“Can’t wait.” You said sincerely, leaning in to kiss his lips.

He kissed back hungrily, throwing you onto your back on the mattress with a force that you had now become acquainted with, you giggled softly as you landed while his hands explored your body like it was his first time ever touching you. He lightly bit into your lip, asking for entrance, which you granted. You parted your lips, his tongue darting into your mouth in that same second, he completely dominated the kiss, and you let him, your hands tangled in his curls, pulling him impossibly closer to you. His hands reached behind your back, quickly undoing your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room, he played with your breasts, squeezing them as he pulled away from the kiss and moved to your neck, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses all the way down to your chest. He pulled your right nipple into his mouth, making you gasp at the sensation, he sucked gently, licking and teasing as his hand played with your other one. After a while, he changed his attention to your left breast, giving it the same treatment as he did the other one. “Fuck! Andrew!” You moaned loudly, your hands still in his hair, pulling it ever so slightly without you realising. He smiled at your moans, pulling away after a second, leaving both your nipples incredibly sensitive.

“I wanna try something new today, baby,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed it. “Think you’d be up for it?”

“W-what is it?” You asked, your voice shaky with need.

“Can you sit on my face?” He asked, eyes dark with lust. “Please.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitated for a second, “what if I accidentally smother you or something?”

He kissed your collarbone, “won’t happen,” he assured you with a warm smile, “but if it does I’ll die a very, very happy man.”

“Andy!” You whined, trying to suppress a laugh, “I’m serious, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I’m not a porcelain doll, baby, I’ll be fine.” He peppered kisses over your neck, nuzzling his face into your skin. “Please?” He insisted.

Your resolve crumbled as you looked into his eyes, his pupils wide from arousal and his lips shining with his own saliva. “Okay,” you agreed softly. “But if you need me to stop, tap out or throw me off you or something, okay?”

“Of course, baby.” He kissed your neck one last time before moving to lay on his back. “Take a seat.” He said, a smirk plastered on his face.

You playfully rolled your eyes, moving over to straddle his face, your pussy hovering just above his mouth, teasing him. You carefully lowered yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hand finding home on your hips. His tongue darted out, parting your folds just enough to make you whine, you lowered yourself a bit more, still not fully seated on his face. Then he started to lick, every movement of his tongue driving you wild, but still, you hovered over him. After a few more licks, Andrew had finally had enough of you not fully seating on him. “Stop fuckin’ hovering and sit!” He demanded, pulling you down onto his face, his nose hitting your clit and making you moan loudly. Andrew hummed contently, slowly shaking his head so as to bury himself further in you, rubbing your bundle of nerves with the tip of his nose in the process, his tongue darted out again, entering you. You moaned, louder this time, your hands moving to hold the headboard, he hummed again, taking a deep breath and savouring the feeling of you fully seated on his face.

He lightly smacked your ass, a silent order for you to move your hips and grind on his face, and, as always, you obey without question, slowly moving your hips until you find a comfortable flow, small moans and whimpers leaving your mouth as he licks and hums to your rhythm. You could feel him swallow your essence every so often, the noises coming from the both of you were obscene and loud, his hands snaked up your body, his left squeezed your breast roughly while his right reached to grab your hair, pulling it back and making the rest of your head follow, your face now looking up at the ceiling as you screamed in pleasure.

You felt the all-familiar twist of bliss in your abdomen, your hips becoming erratic in their movement as you neared your climax. You had never been talkative during sex, this was no exception, a delightful, as Andrew described it, combination of moans, whimpers and whines was all you could manage to utter in your euphoric state, with the occasional begging thrown in when Andrew would get too wild with edging or overstimulation, you had never minded, he was always talking anyway, even when eating you out he’d take a small pause sometimes to say something to you. But today he couldn’t speak, all the sounds, all the moans, were yours, he was in heaven, every noise coming from you like celestial music. He let go of your hair and breast, his hands moving to your hips again. You looked down at him, his eyes were closed in pure bliss as you moved your hips, his moans muffled by your body, you could see the slight shine of your arousal on his face every time your hips moved back slightly, he was angelic, you wondered if he thought the same of you when he fucked you.

He opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours, you could feel him smiling as he looked at you, he moved his tongue more, shaking his head and humming softly to bring you to climax, you felt the coil in your stomach getting tighter as your moans became more high-pitched. Then it snapped, your hips twitching erratically as you came on his face. You moved until the wave of ecstasy subsided, your breathing shaky and irregular and your heart beating rapidly from the intensity of your orgasm. You moved your leg over his head once more, sitting back on the bed after being on his face for so long, he had a crooked smile on his face as he sat up and reached out to hold your face and kiss you once more.

You melted into the kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he gently guided you to lay down. Andrew pulled away from the kiss, laying next to you and holding you in his arms with your head on his chest. “D’you like that, baby?” He asked, his face buried in your hair as he took in your scent.

“Yeah,” you mumbled softly, already feeling the tiredness calling you to sleep.

“Good,” he kissed your head. “Go to sleep, darling, you’re exhausted.”

You hummed in response, your eyes already closed since you didn’t bother opening them after he kissed you. A sound similar to “goodnight” came from your lips, you were too tired to speak.

“Goodnight, my sweet.” Andrew whispered back, his fingers running along your hair, and softly lulling you to sleep. Your breathing evened, he smiled, following behind you not long after