#goodness gracious this was more than i expected

[gomzdrawfr]

[balloon deflated sounds]

it's up, everything but you is now on Ao3

[cutielando]

elegance in red | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which you attend the historical F175 event together

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

The evening air carried a crisp chill, but the warmth of excitement more than made up for it.

The grand unveiling of Ferrari’s F1-75 was an event that had the entire motorsport world abuzz, and tonight, you were walking into it on Charles Leclerc’s arm.

It still felt surreal, the way his fingers fit so perfectly through yours, the way his eyes held that quiet pride when he introduced you as his date for the night.

Dressed in a stunning red gown that effortlessly complemented the theme of the evening, you felt the weight of the cameras turning towards you both.

The fabric hugged your form in all the right ways, cascading down to the floor in soft, elegant waves.

Charles, ever the gentleman, had been stealing glances at you all evening, his admiration thinly veiled under the guise of casual conversation.

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured against your ear, his warm breath sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You squeezed his hand in response, offering him a grateful smile.

“And you, Mr. Leclerc, look exceptionally handsome.”

Your eyes trailed over his tailored black tuxedo, the way it accentuated his athletic frame, the subtle Ferrari emblem peeking from beneath the lapel.

His grin was lopsided, charmingly so.

“I had to make sure I looked good next to the most beautiful woman here.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, but before you could respond, a voice called Charles’ name, pulling his attention away momentarily. Reporters were lining up, eager to capture the drivers’ thoughts on the season ahead.

You expected Charles to slip away, but instead, he tugged you closer, his arm tightening around your waist.

“Stay with me?” he asked, voice laced with something vulnerable, something that made your heart stutter in your chest.

You nodded without hesitation, your voice soft as you replied.

“Always.”

♡♡♡♡♡

The press conference began with questions about the F1-75, its promising design, and Ferrari’s aspirations for the upcoming season. Charles answered with his usual poise, a confident yet humble air about him.

But every so often, he would glance at you, as if grounding himself in your presence.

At one point, a reporter turned his attention toward you.

“Charles, we’ve seen you bring special guests to events before, but tonight seems different. Care to introduce us properly?”

Charles’ lips curved into a knowing smile before he turned to you.

His green eyes held something intimate, something that made your heart pound.

“This is Y/N,” he said, voice steady but warm. “She’s… very special to me.”

The murmurs in the room swelled. You could feel the gazes of countless eyes, but none of it mattered, not when Charles was looking at you like that. Like you were the only person in the room.

You offered a gracious nod, keeping your composure even though your heart was hammering against your ribs.

“It’s an honor to be here tonight.”

The conference eventually wrapped up, and Charles wasted no time in whisking you away toward the more private sections of the event. The F1-75 stood proudly on display, bathed in dramatic lighting that highlighted its sleek, aggressive form.

You couldn’t help but admire it.

“It’s beautiful,” you mused, fingers itching to trace the contours of the machine before you.

Charles hummed in agreement, but when you turned to face him, his eyes weren’t on the car. They were on you.

“It is,” he murmured, his gaze soft.

Your breath hitched slightly.

“Charles—”

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he interjected, stepping closer until the world around you blurred into insignificance. “I know these events can be overwhelming.”

You shook your head, reaching up to smooth out the fabric of his lapel.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Something in his expression shifted, a tenderness so profound it made your stomach flip.

“You make everything better,” he admitted, his voice a whisper meant only for you. “Having you here… it makes all of this feel more real, more meaningful.”

The confession stole the air from your lungs. Before you could second-guess yourself, you rose onto your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He exhaled, as if that single touch melted the weight of the night off his shoulders.

♡♡♡♡♡

The night stretched on with elegance, each moment adding another layer of intimacy between you and Charles.

There was a dinner reception, where you found yourselves seated next to each other at an exclusive table, surrounded by notable figures from the world of motorsport.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, but there were always little moments between you and Charles—his fingers ghosting over yours beneath the table, the way he leaned in just a little closer when he spoke to you.

At one point, a Ferrari executive approached, engaging Charles in an animated discussion about the technical aspects of the F1-75.

You listened intently, fascinated by the depth of knowledge both men possessed, but Charles never let go of your hand. It was a silent reassurance, a tether between the two of you despite the growing number of people vying for his attention.

As the evening wore on, Charles guided you outside for some fresh air, away from the flashing lights and the hum of voices. The stars overhead shimmered, casting a silver glow over the night.

He wrapped his jacket over your shoulders when he noticed the slight shiver running down your spine.

“I never get tired of nights like this,” he murmured, watching you rather than the sky.

You turned to him, smiling softly.

“Because of the cars, or the company?”

His lips twitched.

“The company, without question.”

You laughed lightly, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a comfort you never knew you needed.

Charles reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. The gesture was so simple, yet it felt as though it meant everything.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now, more serious.

You tilted your head, studying his face. “With you?”

He nodded.

“All the time.”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “Me too.”

He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, and in that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just a fleeting romance, something meant to exist in the glitz of an event like this.

It was real, tangible, and, most importantly, it was yours.

The sound of laughter from inside drifted toward you, a reminder that the night was far from over. Charles sighed, reluctant to return to the spotlight just yet.

“Let’s stay out here a little longer,” he murmured.

You nodded, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your waist. The world could wait. Tonight, this moment—this quiet, precious moment—was just for the two of you.

And as the night carried on, Charles kept you close, unwilling to let go. Because in a world of speed and competition, you were his moment of stillness, his quiet certainty in a life that was always racing forward.

♡♡♡♡♡

Hours later, when the event had finally ended, Charles insisted on driving you home himself. The city lights flickered past in a blur as you sat in the passenger seat, his free hand resting on your thigh, occasionally giving it a reassuring squeeze.

There were no cameras, no press—just the two of you, basking in the glow of a night neither of you would soon forget.

As he pulled up in front of your home, Charles leaned over, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“Bonne nuit, mon amour,” he whispered.

And as you stepped out of the car, heart swelling with warmth, you knew this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

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[crescentofthegods]

DISSIPATION!

pairing: draco malfoy x muggleborn!slytherin!fem!reader

request: devastion overwhelmed you completely once you witnessed how draco, your boyfriend, was unable to defend you after his friend called you a mudblood.

word count: 2,472

warnings: ANGST, swearing as usual hehe, goyle being a cow, draco being a DICK and also calling reader a mudblood but its for your own good woah, a bit of fluff before the angst but there is NOT a happy ending, all this goes down on reader's birthday, unfortunately not proofread again (it's 1am in the uk im SORRY)

author’s note: i looooved writing this request, goodness gracious me. HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON, i put my own little twist in it if you dont mind, draco DOES call reader a mudblood towards in their argument dw<3 also theres a little easter egg from one of my other fics, youre a real one if you notice hehshhs

more draco malfoy | navigation

IN THE SPAN OF SIX MONTHS, your private friendship with Draco had blossomed into something more beautiful—a real relationship where you got to call him your boyfriend. However, there was a downside to the two of you dating… Draco made you promise that you wouldn’t tell anyone; you knew deep down that this should’ve been a red flag, that if he really loved you, he wouldn’t be afraid to tell anyone about you, about your love.

            Too bad that your naivety got the better of you.

            Sitting on the cold, stone floor of the Astronomy Tower, you tried to stifle your sobs of despair, but it was no use. Tears of your turmoil trickled down your cheeks like the waterfalls you always adored gazing at whenever you went hiking with your parents—today wasn’t the special day you had planned it to be.

            After all, it was your birthday. Your seventeenth to be precise.

            You weren’t expecting a lot, in all honesty. Just a day of happiness, spent with your closest friend… and even your boyfriend, Draco. Most of all, he had promised you—

            “I can’t believe I turn seventeen in a few days,” you whispered, more to yourself if anything as you burrowed into your beloved boyfriend’s chest, hiding away from the rest of the world… The tips of his fingernails slowly traced a line up your spine, creating a rather ticklish sensation, your quiet giggles sounding like the vocal music of the angels in Draco’s mind. He brought you closer (you didn’t think that had even been possible, not with how close you both already were) his arms wrapping tighter around your waist, his chin making a home in your many locks of hair.

            He had snuck you into his dorm. Since you were both in the same House, it was easier said than done—Theo and Blaise decided to attend class for once, so Draco took his chances.

            “Mhm,” a small smile touched his lips as he hummed, his grey eyes peering at you—he had always cherished how you fit so perfectly against him. Like he was made for you, and you him. “I bought you something, actually.” Though, as soon as those words left his lips, he immediately regretted saying them in the first place, seeing how you sat up within an instant, your wide, bright eyes meeting his.

            “What?—Why? You know I hate it when you buy me things,” you frowned, though it looked more of a pout in Draco’s eyes, his small smile widening into an amused grin.

            “And why is that? Am I not a good enough gift giver for you?” his teasing voice prompted you to roll your eyes, the heel of your hand colliding with his chest, almost like you were shoving him playfully.

            “No, you always buy really… expensive things—don’t your parents wonder where the money’s going?” you asked, your tone sounding a little more serious now. He hated how concerned you grew whenever it came to the people in his life—but, it was basically his fault. Sometimes, he thought about how it would’ve been better if he’d decided not to pursue this relationship with you.

            But, for once, he wanted to be more selfish than usual. Everyone that feared Draco seemed to conclude that he always got what he wanted, but that was not the case.

            He got lucky with you.

            “Don’t worry about my parents,” was all he said; his expression didn’t say much, but you could tell he didn’t want to continue this particular conversation. Initially, your heart dropped, worried that you had overstepped a boundary—though, the way his fingers intertwined with yours, the way his thumb rubbed the gentlest of circles across your skin… it caused your anxious feelings to dissipate.

            They never really go away. They just… stick to the surroundings. Hence why your inner voice used the term ‘dissipate’. Your mind always knew better than your soul, always two steps ahead…

            “Can you at least tell me what the gift is?” your question was much more softer this time, smiling because of how warm he made you feel—how warm his hand felt against yours. You wanted to ask another question; something that probed at your mind recently was how he always wore long sleeved shirts around you now. It wasn’t a problem entirely, it merely sparked worry inside you. In spite of that, you supposed that attempting to ask would only push him away.

            Draco was confusing in that sense. Your love for him, however, overpowered that.

            “Of course not, my heart,” murmured Draco, his grey eyes twinkling with his usual charm. Using that nickname that always made your soul melt like fresh honey. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

            “You’re the bloody worst,” you groaned, his deep chuckle flipping your organs inside out as you collapsed against him once again, snuggling into the cotton of his grey jumper.

            Tell me about it, was what he wanted to reply, but he stopped himself. It was a happy moment. A moment of peace for once in his fucked up life. He wouldn’t ruin it.

            Not with you, the only person who believed in him.

            —That was before you stumbled upon a conversation with Draco and his friends today. Being a Muggleborn sorted into the House of Slytherin was clearly a set up from bloody Merlin himself. Unsurprisingly, you had more friends outside of Slytherin; a lot of the Hufflepuffs, thankfully, were sympathetic to your situation. That afternoon of your birthday, you had walked out of the girls’ dorms, relieved that you had found your Transfiguration homework, heading straight towards the Common Room…

            And, that was when you heard it.

            Gregory Goyle saying your name.

            “What are you so hot and bothered about?” Crabbe nudged Goyle, seeing how visibly peeved the latter appeared to be after exiting the boys’ rooms. Draco wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation after his little… rendezvous at the Room of Requirement. He simply sat in an armchair, playing with his silver bracelet.

            It had a butterfly charm, actually. Your middle name, translated from Latin, meant ‘butterfly’. For your birthday, which was today, he had bought you a dragon charm since ‘Draco’ meant ‘dragon’ in Latin. However, you wore yours on a sterling chain around your neck, wanting it to be hidden—no one would believe that you could afford something like that.

            “Snape teared me a new one,” he grumbled, plopping himself down onto the velvety green sofas with a huff. Crabbe pulled a face.

            “You mean tore—”

            “—Shut up. Anyway, he saw how shitty my grades were and now he’s forcing me to get a tutor! Fucking unbelievable,” Goyle muttered under his breath, running a hand through his extremely thin curls, leaning his head back as Crabbe replied.

            “Nothin’ wrong with that. I’m being tutored too,” he shrugged, sitting beside him as he fiddled with his watch. Releasing an irritated ebb of air, Draco also leaned his head back, wondering how long he was going to endure this pointless discussion.

            “You’re not being tutored by that mudblood, [Y/L/N].”

            That was when you heard it. Standing under the doorway that led towards the Common Room. It was nothing new, being insulted with that term. Nevertheless, your eyes fell on Draco, seeing the way he picked his head up slightly at the mention of you.

            You waited. For a good few moments. Hoping. Praying that he would defend you.

            And, a few seconds later, he laughed, bearing his pearly whites and all.

            “Yeah, good luck with that. She’s a real fucking brown noser, that one.”

            By that point, your mind was blocking out every sound that followed Draco’s words—you made a run for it, not even bothering to look at your so-called boyfriend, dashing out of the Slytherin Dungeons before fleeing to the Astronomy Tower. You had tried to keep it in, your tears, your sorrow—it was all too much.

            To make matters worse, he had fucking followed you. As soon as he made sure that his lackeys couldn’t question him, he’d tried to catch up to you, but you were always the quicker one. If you weren’t so obsessed with academics, you’d make a real good Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch Team.

            There Draco Malfoy stood, watching your hysteric sobs consume you, your head in your hands—he knew that you’d be upset; in fact, he knew you’d been listening the entire time. He noticed you before you had even become the topic of conversation.

            He always noticed you.

            And now, you had noticed him. Your gaze lifting momentarily, only for it to widen at the sight of your boyfriend standing there with the blankest of expressions. Sniffling to yourself, you stood up from your seat on the ground, your expression one of clear torment.

            Anger. Anger consuming you because you didn’t know why you were putting yourself through this. Dating one of the richest Purebloods a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. When you were only a measly Muggleborn. A Mudblood.

            Even so, the same weight of dissipated dejection weighed over you. Why did he ask you out? Why did he become friends with you in the first place if this was how he saw you? If this was how it was going to be? Him pretending to care about your blood status in front of his good-for-nothing friend group.

            Maybe, after all this time, it wasn’t a pretense. Perhaps this was a prank he’d instigated just to humiliate you.

            Numerous possibilities. Numerous outcomes. They all filled your head like snakes in a vat of thick, torturous tar.

            Your voice broke the silence.

            “I don’t understand you,” your first statement filled the atmosphere like a hot vapour, suffocating not just you, but the other person in the room—Draco. Your tears had stopped, cheeks still wet with your misery as you stared at him, not just with passionate feelings of indignation, but more so disbelief. And he couldn’t handle it.

            I should’ve done this earlier.

            “Really?” His voice was quiet. Almost noiseless, like he was calculating the best way for this to go. “I don’t think you’ve ever understood me, my heart.”

            That nickname. The nickname reserved for you and you only. There was once a time where it would make your insides all warm and fuzzy, where it would make your soul melt like honey. Now… now, it felt like molten; searing, dripping lava scorching your insides, burning you—destroying you from within.

            Those anxious feelings, the ones that dissipated. They came back.

            “Seriously?” you scoffed, blinking away the fresh saltwater that threatened to spill from the very crevices of your heart. “Was all of this just some cruel joke to you? Our friendship? Our relationship?”

            Silence.

            Silence, silence, SILENCE—

            “Oh, don’t go all quiet on me now,” you muttered with a breathless chuckle, stepping forward, only to shove him where it would hurt the most—slamming your heel against his chest, where his heart would feel its impact. He certainly did with the way he turned his head to the side, unable to look at you. “You planned this to embarrass me, didn’t you? You never loved me, all these stupid gifts—” you reached inside your shirt, only to rip the sterling chain from your neck, throwing it at him— “It was all fake?! It was for YOUR enjoyment, wasn’t it, Draco?”

            No.

            “Of course it fucking was,” he finally snapped, glaring at you with those grey eyes—you swore that they had been brighter once, that they had sparkled in the sunlight during those ever so secretive moments in his dorm. Regardless, it was now darkness that devoured those orbs you always pined after. Depravity. Hatred.

            All over a blood status.

            “You’re a mudblood, [Y/N], you’ll always be a fucking mudblood—why can’t you get that through your insipid brain of yours?” he was seething now, catching you completely off guard as he grabbed your shoulders, staring into those wide, dimmed eyes that used to glow every time you saw him.

            “Theodore gave me the idea, you know?” Lies, lies, lies. “Told me to mess with you a little since no one else would dare touch such… such scum,” he laughed—he was fucking laughing. Watching as more tears rolled down your cheeks, like it was automatic. Two natural waterfalls crashing into the warm chambers of your coveted core. “I mean, come on, love—I thought you were smarter than this,” his taunts overwhelmed you like a vice, his grip on your biceps tightening, wanting to hurt you as much as he could—needing to, so you could walk away.

            “You’re just as delusional as the rest of them,” scoffed Draco, his lips, the same lips that locked with yours in the early hours of the morning, holding a barely perceptible smirk, clearly proud at how broken you looked. How utterly devastated you appeared before him. Glass-like tears decorating the apples of your cheeks like diamonds on a dress, eyelashes wet with absolute desolation—the contentment that had embraced you like a blanket earlier today had vanished in less than seconds.

            All because of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

            “Probably shouldn’t have led you on for so long, huh?” he murmured gently, like he was complimenting you. Like this wasn’t eating you up completely; terrorising you. His calloused fingers cupped one of your delicate cheeks, his thumb swiping across your skin to wipe those tears away, the ones you had fought so hard, but had escaped your crevice anyway. A whimper of sheer melancholy was all you could respond with, crying to yourself—your entire life was a lie.

            “Fuck you, Malfoy,” you whispered, shaking your head from his almost-soothing grasp, stepping away once again, feeling rotten to the core. Your eyes met his for a final moment, your bottom lip quivering, as well as your entire body—like you were cold, frostbitten. Betrayed. “We’re done. I hope I never see you again.”

            With that, you shoved past him, your hushed weeps trailing after you as you fled the tower, leaving your ex-boyfriend alone in the tower. Leaving him with his deprecating thoughts.

            She wasn’t worth it.

            Father wouldn’t have approved.

            MUDBLOOD.

            Swallowing the painful lump that grew by the second in the confines of his throat, Draco’s eyes landed on the sterling chain at his feet—the one that he had gifted you only this morning. Holding the dragon charm. Holding him. He bent down to pick it up, seizing it like it was the most delicate thing he had ever felt; and it only held that title because it was purely yours. His heart was yours and yours only.

            “Don’t worry, my heart,” he murmured to himself, the ambient glow of his Dark Mark resonating through the rich cotton of his shirt. His thumb brushing over the silver scales of the charm with an utmost gentle manner.  “You won’t.”

[sqtorux]

standing on tiptoes.

୨୧ summary. just as what the title suggests, you get on your tip toes to give satoru a kiss! gojo is completely lovesick and down bad, early stage in the relationship. its gojo's first too °u°

୨୧ desc. sweet sweet tooth rotting fluff because we all need this. 0.7k words from me to you beloved <3

satoru thinks life has been gracious to him lately and he can't pinpoint what he did exactly to deserve this but he hopes he keeps doing whatever it is because he wants you around a long, long time.

satoru wouldn’t call himself a sentimental person but he can't help the soft feeling that pools in his stomach and spread through his chest when you look at him with your oh so mesmerising eyes.

even now, walking back home after a long day with both your hands intertwined and the gradient of the sunset painting the sky, his gaze still shifts to you in small glimpses, red spreading his pretty cheeks all the way to his ears.

“so i was absolutely… toru? are you listening?” satoru swears he was, he was listening to your voice so soothing to him that he forgot to comprehend the words that it formed.

“sorry, what was that again?” his hand found the back of his head sheepishly.

“is everything okay? something on your mind?” a worried expression finds itself on your face and satoru's eyes can't help but dart to your lips that were slightly pouting in confusion, a habit he notices you have.

“y-yeah… yeah no, everything's fine” he forces his gaze to look into your eyes but he couldn't help another glimpse at your soft lips, thoughts of kissing you clouding his mind.

would it be weird if he asked to kiss? are you supposed to ask? how early can you kiss someone in a relationship? would he be good at it?

satoru hadn't realised he was so obvious with his thoughts until he heard you giggle and if he thinks he can't get any more redder than he already is, he was wrong.

“are you sure?” your tone was clearly evident that you were teasing him and the way your head tilts to meet his wandering gaze sends his heart into a frenzy of thumps that he fears were loud enough for you to hear.

“yeah sure, very sure” satoru looks at everywhere but at you because he thinks he would either combust across the next planet or melt on the spot, he wasn't sure but something embarrassing would happen. that, he was sure.

what he didn't expect was instead of teasing him more, you closed the little distance that separated the both of you and slowly rised on your tiptoes, eyes focused on his soft lips. your right hand that were still intertwined with his left, stayed as they are while he waits for the contact of both your lips that never comes.

“help me out a lil won't you?” you chuckle. it wasn't your fault you still couldn't reach his lips even when you're on your tip toes, why did he have to be so tall anyway?

satoru chuckles back as he gets overcome with a sense of confidence at your own blushing cheeks. he leans down and wastes no time to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

your face crinkles in disappointment at the ghost of a peck on your lips and satoru thinks he accomplished the greatest thing ever knowing you wanted more of him.

he realises he would give you the world if you so ever asked. his hand find its way to caress your cheeks softly, completely lost in your eyes and hopelessly so in love.

he leans in and closes the infinity between the both of you, finally finally having a taste of your lips. it was as perfect as he imagined it to be, if not more.

he follows after your lips as you pull away, a soft whine leaving his plump lips you just kissed and you would have kissed him again if you weren't in public doing this.

“i think we've garnered enough stares and annoyed remarks” you laugh, he does too.

“hm i wonder where we can do this without any of that” satoru teases earning another chuckle from you. he thinks he can keep hearing it on repeat for the rest of his life.

“i don't know, you tell me” you shrug as you pull him by your hands that he realised haven't left his, it was so natural. everything was so natural with you.

in the comfort of your home, you in his arms and giving him all the kisses he could ever ask for, satoru thinks he's the happiest man in the world, even as far as the galaxy and expanding even further.

[ink-stainedkiss]

Husband Sukuna Ryomen Headcannons

Husband!Sukuna who is completely wrapped around your finger, but would never make it known. He has slaughtered thousands, is feared by his own village, and is a horror story to children. Yet, he enjoys resting his head in your lap and falls asleep peacefully as you play with his hair. As one would expect, Sukuna wouldn’t dare to show the soft side of himself, as it’s reserved for only his adoring wife.

Husband!Sukuna who feels off whenever you aren’t right next to him. No matter where, if you aren’t standing with him, he shifts uncomfortably and ends up calling for your presence. When Sukuna realized he had these unfamiliar feelings for you, it was decided that you could never get rid of him.

Husband!Sukuna who is too stubborn for his own good and can not for the life of him express his feelings. His bull-headed attitude always made disagreements turn into petty fights. You had learned that it’s better to give him space, rather than go back and forth.

Sukuna had done it again. He had killed off an innocent servant without a second thought. You couldn’t help but feel guilty that Sukuna didn’t face you with his merciless personality. There were only a selective few that the King of Curses didn’t wish death upon if they served no purpose. As you got word of why the poor servant was cut into pieces, you felt frustration build in you at the insignificant reason for her demise. You marched to your shared chamber, a deep furrow in your brow, and unsurprisingly, Sukuna was ever peaceful, reading a book on your bed.

“Is something wrong?” He hummed boredly, not looking up to meet your hardened gaze,”As a matter of fact, yes.” The king raised a curious brow, but shared no more interest,”What is the issue?” Standing unwaveringly, you plead your case,”You killed off a servant girl.” Sukuna nodded shortly,”I did. Is that all?”

Your jaw tightened,”You did it with no reason at all.” Sukuna gave you an indifferent look, clearly not seeing why you were upset,”She knocked over one of your vases, I had every right to kill her,” Your hands turned into fist,”No you didn’t. It was just painted clay, we could have gotten another one from the town’s potter.”

Sukuna set his book to the side, anger beginning to grow,”That was a gift. Are you telling me that you show no care toward my gracious offering?” You pinched the bridge of your nose,”No Sukuna. I loved the vase, it was beautiful,” You gave him a desperate look,”But that girl didn’t deserve to die over a simple mistake.” He looked you up and down, his tense expression unmoving.

“I detest your ability to forgive someone so easily.” You felt your hope run out at his heartless response. You exhaled softly, beginning to turn away. Sukuna noticed your change and he felt a sharp pang in his chest. Moving towards the door, you turned over your shoulder,” I apologize for wasting your time,”

Sukuna reached out and tried to call for you, but his chamber door was already shut. The king tossed his head back against the headboard and let out an audible groan.

Husband!Sukuna who replays your saddened voice over and over again and realizes he has to make it up to you. It was clear you were passionate about this topic and all Sukuna did was make it worse. So even if he’s completely terrible at voicing his apology, he understands that’s the only way to make you feel better.

Husband!Sukuna who seeks you out all throughout the estate, rushing past the workers and making them jump at his fervency. After searching for what seemed like forever, he goes to the last place in his mind. The gardens. This place was for Sukuna to rest in and for Sukuna only, that was until he found you. The two of you shared the sacred space often, just whenever you needed a moment of quiet. The garden was fenced off and only a certain few could enter the premises.

Husband!Sukuna who lets out a sigh of relief as he finds you sitting alone near a thin river.

Sukuna calmly walked over, sitting down next to you, and it was almost comical to see this beast of a man resting by your side. The silence between you two was agonizing, but you seem unbothered. The king carefully moved his head, revealing a pure white rose,”I plucked this for you. Its beauty reminds of you.”

Despite your anger, his words made your heart flutter, and you took it quietly. Your fingers fiddled with the delicate petals,”Thank you,” Sukuna wasn’t greatly pleased with your words. His mind ran laps around what he should say and eventually he spoke up,”I will try to be more…pitying.” Your head whipped around, facing your husband in shock,”Really? Would you do that?”

He let out a lenient sigh, giving you a short nod,”If it makes you happy, then I shall.” Sukuna knew you were giving him those pathetic eyes that made him feel all warm and gross, so he didn’t meet your gaze. Before he could continue, your body was leaping onto his, making the King fall onto the grass with a small groan.

His face was decorated in tiny kisses and you thanked him endlessly,”Oh, thank you Kuna. I’m forever in your debt.” Sukuna rolled his eyes, staring up at you as you halted your persistent kisses,”Don’t say such foolish things. You’re in no one’s debt and you never will be.” His words made your smile wider and once again he was smothered in your lips.

It seemed like merely a fable that the King of Curses was letting out belly laughs as his wife showed him so much affection.

Husband!Sukuna who tells himself that nothing, no living or dead creature shall take you away from him, and he would rain hell on the earth if they dared to try.

[whokilledsamara]

my REAL hear me out character is Mr.huge face 😵‍💫 trust me bro I can take it hj

so I am here to very humbly beg for some NFSW hcs for him with a fem!reader first time requesting hehe

thank uuu xoxo 💕💕

MR. HUGEFACE NSFW HCS

a Mr. Hugeface x afab!reader hc list. {only did nsfw this time per request ;)}

warnings || smut, HUGE size difference, cunnilingus, dub-con, blood play, violence, etc

{an: OMGGMGM i have a few requests of him in drafts that are actual FICS so im gonna go ahead and publish these so yall have food quicker.... he might be growing on me guys... no pun intended..}

penetrating sex with him is borderline impossible. unless you want a fucked up pussy, its not recommended. {he would say otherwise..}

though, one of his pinkies may be able to slide in. the small chance you are able to fit it that is.

most of the time, in your permanent environment with him- sex consists of him tongue fucking you while he ruts into his hand.

very few times will you actually see his appendage though,,,

his favorite position is you on all fours in his hand {anime reference....} while he uses his tongue to pleasure you to the best of his abilities.

his tongue is that of a human one, just absolutely ginormous in size comparison- making a single lick cover your entire lower half.

he cant precisely hit your clit, its more like a general area. of course it gets you off though- very quickly in fact.

it wouldnt take much, but if you are able to convince him to let you see his actual dick in all of its glory- take it to your advantage. the time will be short, and the size comparison will be HUGE.

usually when he makes himself cum, he likes to aim it for your cunt- since he cant actually fit inside of you. he enjoys using his pinky to shove it in, hence the name "breeding"

he sees you as a mere play thing. he has feelings of course, but other than sex it would take quite a while to actually develop some kind of relationship with him.

he enjoys seeing you in pain. watching you write around as he stuffs you with his finger, let alone watching the blood leak out- really does something for him.

when he cums, goodness gracious its a lot. it covers almost your entire torso if not completely.

expect to have a collar on almost constantly. you are his "pet" after all. its funny watching him tug at it with his fingers.

i cant think of more rn,,, its late,, AUGH im sorry!!! hope you enjoyed ♡

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[chilling-seavey]

The Sunshine State (gr63)

↳ A/N Happy Miami GP Weekend! Even from up here in cold Canada, the vibes of this particular race weekend always hit the hardest. Pulled this little something out of the vault to celebrate :)

↳ Summary: George is in Florida for the Miami Grand Prix and brings you along with him for a bit of a vacation for yourself, but even in the excitement of the Sunshine State, mornings always prove the hardest to face without some sort of motive.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 6.9k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, wandering hands, thigh riding/grinding, use of lube, handjobs, fingering, nipple play, plethora of petnames, degradation (names like 'slut' or 'whore'), riding, one or two fleeting uses of 'sir', spanking, dirty talk, one minor hint towards impregnation kink but only in passing, some restraining with hands, minor cum play, unprotected sex, mentions of queefs and other natural occurrences, finger sucking, way too much description of George Russell laying naked in the sunlight.

“Hey, sunshine.” 

With a tired sigh, George dropped his bag beside the wall as the hotel room door shut behind him. You had closed your laptop at the sound of the key in the door and it was already tucked away on the ground when he had emerged from around the corner, leaving your hands free to hold out your arms to him. 

George smiled gently at you and slipped off his shoes as he took the three short steps to the end of the king size bed and knelt up on the end to shuffle towards you, “Hey, sweetheart.” 

He was so obviously tired but gracious for your welcoming arms as he flopped on top of you and snaked his arms around your waist. His heavy, relieved sigh had you smiling and you held him close for a moment, feeling the warmth of his body that had seeped into his clothing from the Florida heat outside, even after the sun had gone down. 

In preparation for his long awaited return, you had closed the curtains and turned on the bedside lamps and got yourself propped up in bed to wait for him, slouched back against the pillows and headboard. He was a bit later than expected coming back to the hotel room but that wasn’t new - it was often that time got away from him and the team after a long day at the circuit, going over final details for the race weekend. You at least had the pleasure of joining him this time. 

Despite his busy schedule, he seemed to master the balance of work and pleasure as you never once felt like he was leaving you alone for too long. The quiet evenings were almost better than the busy evenings as he returned to the room and to your arms with nothing but the strongest desire to cuddle and nothing was better than that, you were sure. 

“How was today?” you asked, sliding your hand up his arm and into his soft brown waves, swept messily by the ocean breeze. 

“So good.” George mumbled into your chest as his eyes started to close from the first graze of your fingers in his hair. His lips were pouted sleepily and his cheek was squished against your body, muffling his added, “So promising.”

“I’m glad.” you praised gently. 

Your fingers scratched tenderly over his scalp, twirling his hair between them and combed the wavy strands back from his tired face. George hummed softly in appreciation and nuzzled into you more, tucked up between your legs on top of the fluffy hotel sheets. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head and he smiled sleepily and tightened his arms around your middle. 

“Would you like me to say I missed you today or I didn’t miss you at all today?” you asked teasingly. Being a little joke between the two of you as you never wanted to make him feel badly for having to get his work done. 

“You missed me.” George mumbled. 

“Good, because that’s the truth.” you whispered and kissed his head again. 

“I missed you too.” George breathed, his voice soft and sweet.

The flutter in your heart was unmissable and you hid your cheesy grin into his messy hair that still smelt like the ocean breeze, “You’re so cute.” 

There was no reply so you leaned your head slightly to glance at his face only to see him already starting to drift to sleep in your arms and on top of the sheets. His body just grew heavier on top of you second by second as he eased out of consciousness and you rubbed his back a little and he moulded right into you. 

“Come on, sunshine,” you whispered and carefully started to push his light jacket from his shoulders, “come to bed.”

Stirring, George groaned gently, his voice thick, “I’m in bed.” 

He rotated between your legs slightly so you could pull his jacket off and although it took some effort on your end, it was soon tossed to the floor to be dealt with in the morning. Resting on his back against your chest, George let you do as you wished and you reached down to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans as his arms draped above his head to wrap his hands around the back of your neck. 

“Mm, buy me dinner first.” he mumbled sleepily, giggling softly at his own joke as you pushed his jeans down his thighs. 

“You’re so funny.” you humoured him quietly while you struggled to reach farther down to get his jeans off completely, “Kick them off, love.” 

George, eyes still closed with impending sleep, thrashed his feet around just enough to somehow manage to get his jeans off his calves and they dropped to the floor off the end of the bed. He sighed heavily and you shuffled the blankets down from underneath him as he shifted off of you to climb under the sheets at your side instead and you tucked them around him. 

“I’m big spoon.” he called sweetly as you reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. 

When you glanced back over at him, he was holding out his arm already, sheets raised for you, peeking at you through one half opened eye expectantly through the darkened hotel room. 

“Who says?” you retorted. 

“Me.” 

“What if I wanted to be big spoon?”

“You can tomorrow. It’s my turn tonight.” George whispered. 

“You’re always the big spoon.” you argued softly, shuffling closer towards him under the sheets and, in surrender, turned around so your back was to him. 

“So what?” George grumbled lightheartedly and wrapped his arm and the blankets around your body. “It’s my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite.” you whispered. 

He poked his head up over your shoulder and you looked up at him through the dark just long enough to see the hint of a smile on his face before he was nuzzling his face into your neck and kissed your skin, “I love you.”

“I love you, my sunshine.” you replied softly and let your fingers lace with his around your middle, falling once again into the comfort of his familiar warm embrace, “I’m so proud of you.”

Sometime in the night, you and George had rolled apart, occupying opposite sides of the king size bed without so much as touching each other one bit. That only meant that it was natural for you to feel a little empty when you rose into consciousness and didn’t have the blessing of your boyfriend’s arms around you. The sight of him was a reassuring treat though as you opened your eyes to the faintly lit hotel room to see the silhouetted form of George’s sleeping body just inches away from you. He had another busy day ahead of him but, selfishly, part of you wanted to just keep him to yourself and explore the area…the beaches…the city…anywhere together. He always worked so hard. 

You swam towards him through the vast expanse of white sheets, pulling yourself by the linens until you were at his side and your hand glided over the white material of his t-shirt still left over from the day before. His relaxed heartbeat thudded under your palm and you cuddled against his chest as he was facing towards you fast asleep. 

George’s soft sleepy hum made you smile and he draped an arm around your waist to pull you close until your bodies and limbs were tangled together and the sheets embraced you as one. You inhaled him deeply, nuzzling into his neck to feel him closer, surrounding yourself with the senses of his body that always felt like home to you. Like sunshine. 

His steady breaths were calming and you shut your eyes again in the safety of his embrace as if to expect to fall back asleep for the rest of the morning. Maybe if you stayed quiet you wouldn’t have to accept that there were things to do that day.

“Good morning, my love.” George whispered, his voice deep and thick with sleep and even though he cleared his throat gently, you just pulled your man closer. 

“Morning, sunshine.” you breathed. 

“I didn’t get a kiss last night.” he admitted quietly. 

You leaned your head back slightly to look at his face, processing the truth of his words, and then shuffled up a bit higher on the pillow to give yourself room to freely kiss his waiting lips. George smiled slightly, his pretty pink lips perking up in the corners, and he brushed the tip of his nose against yours before kissing your lips in return. The third time you both leaned in, you met a bit sharper than anticipated but you shared light laughter and your arm linked around the back of his neck and pulled his body closer as your lips locked like second nature. 

His fingers trailed down the bumps of your spine over your shirt and then slid underneath the hem at the bottom before moving back up the same path, leaving goosebumps over your bare skin in the process. You could taste the sleep on his tongue and the tiredness in his kisses but after being together for so long, sharing a bed, arguably sharing a life, nothing was to be fazed anymore. 

His messy brown hair called to your fingers and as you scratched gently along the soft hair at the nape of his neck, he moaned quietly into your kiss. George’s full hand was pressed against your back under your shirt as if to hold you close and as you shared long lingering kisses of lips and tongue, you tucked your leg around his two. It was the ideal way to greet the morning: to kiss yourselves awake. But it made the idea of having to get up feel even more than foreign. 

Under the sheets, George’s thigh nudged up between your legs a bit more almost like an open invitation and you shifted in his arms to take to rubbing yourself casually against his bare thigh. You held his lips on yours by the back of his neck and he let his tongue push against yours hungrily as your bodies moulded into one under the warm white bed sheets. The tight muscle of his thigh felt shamefully far too good under your clothed pussy that had missed the heat of his touch for a few days and you kept those small rotations of your hips against his leg. You both shared heavy breaths and trailing hands and you gripped onto the back of his white t-shirt to try and tug him even closer. 

“George.” you whispered into his mouth, as if keeping him present. 

There wasn’t any other place he would rather be, however. 

He shifted slightly beside you and leaned up on his arm to raise over top of you just enough to push his leg farther between yours and kiss you right down into the pillows. You moaned sweetly into his mouth, cupping his jaw with your other hand as you used your grip on his shirt to help pull you along on his thigh. Nothing but silence in the hotel room for two, you swore he was going to hear your thudding heartbeat behind the soft wet sounds of your passionate kisses and the discreet shuffle of sheets around your bodies. 

His hand slid down your back and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into your motions stronger and he shared in your soft groan. 

“Baby,” he breathed into your mouth between your deep kisses. His fingers pressed into your ass a little tighter and he almost started to grind right with you, smothering his growing urgency with another moan against your tongue. George gladly welcomed your pull at his shirt and the back of his neck, permitting you any part of him you desired in that moment as you were so obviously guided by lust; who was he to say no? 

He could nearly feel the warmth between your legs and how you slid your closed pussy against his thigh like you were going to make yourself cum from just that had him getting harder than he’d have liked to admit. And maybe your own thigh felt a bit too good against his crotch as he let himself rock his hips against yours a little and his movement had you biting down on his bottom lip with a moan. 

“Fuck, baby.” George pulled back from your kiss breathless.

Without wasting a moment, he pushed down the sheets around you both as the temperature rose between you. He let his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watched you grind on his thigh and he danced his fingertip up over your hip and snapped the waistband of your panties back against your skin, urging a small gasp from your throat. Missing his lips, you took to his neck instead, trailing open mouthed lingering kisses over his warm skin and let your greedy hands glide all over him despite the shirt that he still wore, nearly begging for him to touch you. 

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart.” George groaned lightly, “You’re so gorgeous…I’m already so fucking hard.” 

Your only reply was to grab his face and pull his lips back on yours, swallowing up his surprised moan with your lips and devouring them with your tongue. He let you push him flat onto his back and you shifted over top of him so you were draped over his chest to reach his lips as you grazed your hand over the front of his boxers. True to his word, he was already hard and his cock strained pathetically against the thin material of his underwear as you palmed him strongly just to taste more of his pretty low moans on your tongue. 

“Take these off.” you whispered, snapping his waistband in return against the skin of his waist and right away he was dropping a hand to slide his underwear down his legs and he kicked it to the floor. His lips barely left yours, even as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to give you room to do as you pleased before sliding his hand into the back of your hair. 

His other arm wrapped around your back and he held you close to his body as you kissed yourselves awake. The pair of you fell into your blissful routine of lingering hands and passionate kisses and shamelessly sharing little moans and groans in bliss even at only the slightest of touches. Your taunting hand resting still on his lower stomach was driving him crazy but he didn’t outright admit that, not until you gently scratched your fingers across the thin line of hair there and his muscles physically flinched. 

“Touch me.” George breathed into your mouth, chasing your kisses like alcohol when you tried to back up. 

“Okay…I gotta get the lube.” you whispered, anchoring yourself on his chest as he tried to hold you down for a moment longer. 

His lips smacked wetly with yours and his urgency had you grinning into his kiss as his hands rubbed up your back and he finally pulled back with an impatient sigh, “And open the curtains…I wanna watch you.”

Without another word, you shuffled off the end of the bed and tugged open the curtains that hid the view of the Miami beaches, sending warm tidal waves of sunlight into the once near dark hotel room. The both of you squinted slightly in the sudden light but there was nothing more inviting than the Sunshine State’s sunlight to greet the morning with. It only livened up the light painted hotel room and George pulled off his shirt excitedly as you stopped by your shared suitcase and snagged the half empty bottle of lube on the way back to bed. 

Now privy to him in the daylight, you knelt up on the king size bed with the sheets almost falling off the end around you, and took a second to just drink him up. You loved George in anything, but you especially loved him naked…waiting for you…that sweet smile of his on his pretty pink lips. With him like that, everything felt different, like you weren’t more than just a single entity of true humanistic desire of natural man and woman. The mere sight of him made you near primal, craving, indulging in the brightness that he brought to your life in every single way possible. 

George thrived in the sunlight, you swore, and as he laid draped out for you in the middle of the hotel bed, it was only a fact that there was nothing more breathtaking in the world. His dick was achingly hard and rested up almost against the skin of his stomach so you didn’t waste time as you popped the cap on the bottle of lube and poured some onto your hand while crawling on your knees across the mattress towards him. 

As you leaned over him to set the re-capped bottle on the nightstand, George leaned in and wrapped his lips around your nipple through the material of your shirt, tonguing at it for just a second before pulling back and looking up to your face, his arms snaking around your body once more. You dipped down to kiss him sloppily as you shifted back into the same position you were in before—right at his side—and his lips simply followed yours wherever you moved and you were cautious of the lube in your hand as you rubbed it between your fingers and palm. 

George’s arm tucked itself under your body and rested his hand on your shoulder as you shared passionate kisses and your fingers teased the tip of his dick. His heavy exhale had you giggling softly into your kiss and he pushed his lips harder on yours as if to distract himself from your teasing. You finally wrapped your hand around the base of his dick and slowly stroked upwards, pulling a deep groan from his chest that you swallowed up with kisses to his plush lips. 

With slow but strong pumps of your hand, your kisses only seemed to mould into that same speed and passion- slow and deep and purposeful. The lube squelched filthily under your hand and it only urged you to drape your leg over his and try to get some of the agonizing pressure lessened between your legs by finding that friction that had raised you into consciousness mere moments before. George’s arm slung around your shoulders to pull your body closer, his other hand sliding down your back to grope a handful of your ass as you started to grind against his thigh again, mirroring the speed of your hand almost perfectly. 

As taunting as it was for him, it was for you too, as the replication of what could be a proper morning hookup was resorted down to a hand-job and thigh grinding. George nibbled at your bottom lip a little between messy kisses and you pushed your tongue eagerly into his mouth, dying to taste more of his soft moans in the morning sunlight. His fingertips danced across your waist and your hip and the bottom of your spine, inching up the hem of your shirt before tracing the curve of your ass. Kisses only seemed to grow louder as the seconds passed and soon George was linking a finger in the back of your panties and tugging them to the side.

“Oh my God.” you mumbled into his mouth, muffled by his tongue, and you took your hand from his dick to help tug your panties to the side completely, letting your damp skin touch his thigh without barriers. But right away you were back to your slow twisting strokes, slicking him up in lube until he was dripping precum and groaning into your mouth. His fingers only slipped themselves between your cheeks and right down to your pussy just to feel how wet you were. The fact that you were completely soaked only had his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer. 

Both of you could hardly breathe between your passionate kisses but neither of you wanted to stop, too hung up on each other’s lips to even think about choosing air as the priority. You just linked your leg tighter around his and ground on him harder, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of your aching clit rubbing freely against his warm muscular thigh. You were a mess of limbs side by side, half intertwined, and George teased his fingertips around your pussy to slick them up in your arousal a little more before he wiggled one inside you. 

You swore breathily into his mouth and finally pulled back from his lips with one more wet kiss as your eyes met. You both bit your lips at the same time, sparking soft laughter between you as you each lazily used your hands on each other in the Florida sunshine that flooded the hotel room. 

“You’re so pretty.” you whispered. 

“You’re beautiful.” George whispered back. 

You both leaned in for a few more quick kisses until you were shifting impatiently at his side and his finger slipped out of you before he could even attempt to add a second. He seemed to read your mind as he let you push off your panties completely and then right away reached for your thigh and helped to swing your leg over his body. As you adjusted yourself onto your feet to squat over him, he shuffled farther down the mattress so he was laying flat once more and his careful hands helped to keep you balanced on top of him. 

“This,” you said softly, hands holding steady on his chest as he kept his fingers wrapped around your forearms, “is my happy place.” 

George smiled up at you, egging you on, “Where?” 

“On top of you.” you admitted and slowly leaned down to kiss his lips. 

You shared soft giggles together between gentle kisses before you were straightening up again and reached between your parted legs to grab hold of his dick. You stroked him slowly but strongly with your hand still coated in lube and then brushed the tip of his cock between your wet folds. George’s deep anticipatory groan felt warm all over you but he let you take your time to guide him inside you. 

The moment the head of his cock pushed past the entrance of your tight pussy, the two of you shared soft gasps and instant eye contact, lingering on that ever present connection of love that flowed between you. George’s hands found the bottom of your shirt and he lifted it up and over your head to discard the last piece of clothing to the floor, giving his eyes and his hands ample room to admire your breasts. He groped them in his palms as you kept yourself lowering down on his large cock but his eyes stayed locked on your face. 

“Good girl.” George whispered. “God, you feel so incredible.” 

Easing down on him, you were quiet for a moment in near concentration, hands pressed down against his chest for stability and your eyes dropped between you to watch yourself take him inside little by little. The sting over your hips was familiar and agonizingly perfect and to permit yourself deeper, you stopped about halfway to give him a few tiny bounces. 

“Mm, fuck.” George huffed out, his hands moving to drape behind his head and let you do all the work for the both of you. 

It was a responsibility you took proudly. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear when you looked back up to meet his gaze, “you’re huge.” 

“You can take it.” he said sweetly yet laced with an obvious cockiness at your statement and reached out a hand to stroke your cheek. “Come on, baby girl.”

With a gentle swivel of your hips, your ass finally met his thighs, welcoming his dick completely inside you. You hummed softly at the warm stretch across your hips and as you squared your shoulders again, hand sliding down his chest and eyes falling closed, you took a moment to bask in the morning Florida sun and the fullness that he pushed deep within you. The ache slowly melted away into that familiar blissful sensation of pleasure from being stretched and filled and you could cross your heart that no feeling was better in the world. 

“I swear you’re made for me.” you breathed into the air as your head fell back in the streaks of morning sun. 

George laughed softly and slid his hands up your arms that stemmed from their anchoring on his chest and he grabbed onto your biceps gently, “I think I am.” 

You raised your head up again to meet his gaze, “Made for me?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you feel that warmth too?”

“I feel everything.”

You smiled down at him and pet a hand through his hair and across his cheek and back to his chest adoringly, taking in the rays of morning sun that blessed his golden skin. You stayed perfectly still for a moment, just staring at him and each slight curve of his face that formed him into the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. There was no one else for you. Why would there be when you had George all to yourself? He was the equivalent to your Florida sunshine. 

“My love,” George gave your hips a little squeeze, “I love watching you take it all in but I’m gonna go fucking crazy if you don’t start moving soon.” 

You smiled sweetly at him, sharing a silent apology by the caress of your hands down his chest, and then slowly pushed yourself up just to sink back down on him. George’s teeth captured his bottom lip through a soft groan as he stared up at you, letting you set the pace yourself. His arms tucked behind his head again casually, leaving himself spread for you to do with as you pleased. 

You moved in slow shallow bounces, taking his cock as deep as it could go every time you bottomed out until you were both sharing soft moans and heavy breaths, only growing with time. It was easier to move while crouched over him on your feet and with your hands pressed to his abs and chest for stability, you could really start to get a rhythm going. As your intensity grew, so did the volume of your slick skin meeting on each downstroke and George’s deep groan filled your heart with warmth as he watched your every move. 

“Fuck, baby, just like that.” he praised lowly. 

You flicked your hair over your shoulder to give you space to stare down at his body greedily, soaking him up with your hands as you rode him almost gracefully, slowly, precisely. With the sheets pushed to the end of the bed, you were nothing but two naked forms joined together in the sunlight of the open curtains, given privacy by the height of the hotel floor you inhabited for the weekend. Despite the heightened view of the beaches just beyond your window, your gaze was drawn to nothing else but the man beneath you and his own hint of the ocean that lived in his eyes and the sunlight that made up his soul. 

You shared soft moans together, hands tracing skin and eyes following curves of bodies. George reached out to touch you again, using one careful hand to trace your collarbones and down to your chest and he gently pinched one of your nipples between his fingers. 

“Oh my God.” you breathed softly. 

Your audible praise had George propping himself up on his other hand to lean forward and wrap his lips around your nipple instead. His shift beneath you had his cock nudging deeper inside you and you shuttered softly as you gripped onto his shoulders, stalling for a moment. 

George pulled back from your breast with a small pop and his arm around your back tried to pull you into your motions again, “Keep going, baby.” 

You slumped to your knees from your feet on either side of his lap and right away started to roll your hips against his in strong purposeful circles that had you rising up and lowering down slightly in the same motion. George’s pleased moan reverberated against your breast as he sucked on your flesh and tongued at your nipple, only harmonizing perfectly with your own sweet moans and whimpers. 

His mouth felt good on your chest but you craved his lips on yours more and you set a hand under his chin to tilt his head up and you dipped down to kiss him hungrily. George’s deep groan at the surprise of your kiss only had your hips grinding down harder on him, addicted to that friction of his skin against yours. You pushed your tongue against his, urging his hand to the back of your neck to keep you there as your passion flowed into your kisses just as strongly as it flowed between you. 

Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair, clutching onto him as you swirled your hips faster down on him, desperate for more, moaning shamelessly into his mouth. George kept his hand on the back of your neck so as he gently laid down again, you were forced to follow him, your lips locked in sloppy breathless kisses and your bodies pressed together warmly. 

Now laying on top of him, knees pressed on either side, you started to rock back and forth on him, tumbling whimpers into his mouth as the new angle had the tip of his dick pressing into perfect spots deep inside you. Driven by lust, you only forced yourself faster, barely kissing him anymore as your desire for cock out weighed the sweet bliss of his lips and you merely breathed into his mouth as you fucked yourself back on him. 

“Fuck yeah.” you whined softly, fingers tangling in the fabric of the pillow case on either side of his head. 

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” George whispered tauntingly to you with his hands rubbing across your hips and ass as if to guide your movements back onto him, “Just wanna ride my dick like a pretty fucking whore?”

“Oh, God, please, sir.” you breathed desperately. 

“Yeah, you look like a fucking goddess.” George complimented lowly, pausing just long enough to spank you, “So fucking beautiful.” 

You moved one hand back to his chest as if to give yourself more leverage to try and bounce your hips on his in that flat position but the amount that you wanted didn’t seem to be met by anything that you were trying. George leaned up just slightly to get his lips back on yours, distracting you with his kiss as he slowed you down with his hands on your ass and then shifted underneath you to get his feet planted flat on the mattress. His hands held tightly to your hips and he gently pushed up into you. 

Your gasp broke your kiss with a pleading, “Please, George.” 

George’s soft grunt fell against your cheek as he thrusted up into you again and you gripped both hands down into the pillows beside him in anticipation for more. He took it slow, taunting you with a few slow thrusts up into your dripping pussy until you could hear him holding himself back with strained breaths against your skin. 

With a final spank to your ass, he was gripping your hips again and starting to pound you from below. Your squealing gasp had him groaning deeply as he held you tightly in place and his skin slapped filthily with yours, wetter and wetter with lube and your plentiful arousal welcoming him in.

“Yes!” you cried out, “Yes! Fuck, baby!”

The securely built bed barely made a single noise beneath you no matter how hard George was taking it but all you could focus on was the incredible feeling of him fucking you hard. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed his touch after a few busy days but it seemed as though you missed him taking over and fucking you much more. 

George only pushed himself faster, grunting softly against your ear as he rammed up into you greedily, forcing a pitchy blissful chant to tumble from your mouth, “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

It was like he was fucking the words from your mouth, turning you into a messy uncontrollable mumble of random words and sounds of pleasure in steady time with the clap of his skin against yours and the thick wet sound of your pussy sucking him in again and again. With your forearms pressed to the pillow on either side of him, you tangled your fingers in his hair as if to cradle his head and let your eyes burn into his. 

“Good girl.” George praised through his teeth, his breath falling shallow quickly. “Take it.”

“Don’t stop!” you cried out softly. “Fuck!”

His loud groan was incredible and you swore you felt it in every inch of your body, your fingers gripping tighter to his hair which only made him louder. You were each other’s perfect match in volume, nothing too loud as to disturb neighbouring rooms but just loud enough to help edge each other on a little more. 

“Fuckin’ love this pussy.” George groaned, still pounding up into you carnally as his fingers pressed into the flesh of your hips. He was nearly tugging you into each thrust, harder and faster, until he was tossing one arm around your shoulders to hold your body right down on his. 

“George!” you sobbed out, dropping your face into his neck. “Fuck! Yes!”

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he spoke lowly against your ear. “You gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Please!” you moaned loudly, tugging at his hair strongly, “Please make me cum!” 

“Okay. Come on.” George mumbled, almost just to himself, and shifted your bent legs higher up on either side of him as he thrusted up into you. The lewd wet sound of your bodies together was nearly making you dizzy and you arched down on him slightly to feel more of him, clutching onto his brown hair and whimpering loudly into his neck. 

“Oh, fuck! Right there!” you gasped out. 

“Feel it.” George ordered against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, “Feel how fucking big I am inside you? Reaching all the right spots? Like I’m made for you? That’s what you said. Yeah. This dick is yours.”

“Fuck, I’m so close.” you whimpered. 

“I want you to cum for me, sweetheart.” George whispered, “I want you to fucking cum. I want you to cum so fucking hard for me that you physically hold me inside you.”

“Oh my God-“ you cried. 

“Yeah, you want that? I can feel your pussy gripping down already.” George groaned, his words strained through his exertion but he didn’t dare stop his forceful pounding, “Want me to cum inside you? Fucking knock you up?”

“George-“

“Better cum for me.”

“Sir-“

“Cum.”

One hand flew out to the headboard and you gripped the top in a tight fist as you fell under his control, your body easily falling into his demands as you reached that blissful peak. George held you down against his chest, still thrusting up into you even when you tried to shift away in rising overwhelm. 

“Fuck!” you gasped through it, rocking back on him a little as your body tensed and you kept your hands laced in the back of his hair, breath falling against his cheek. “George-” 

“Good girl.” he praised through his teeth, “Shit, I’m gonna cum-” 

“Gimme it.” you pleaded softly, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm clenching down around his throbbing cock. 

Only seconds later, and a few more thrusts, George was gripping your hips and holding you flush down on his lap as he came, tossing his head back against the sun soaked pillows with a loud moan, eyes screwed shut. You ground down on him in tight circles to work him through it despite the sensitivity of your entire tingling body as the feeling of that first warm spurt releasing inside you was far more addicting. 

“Fuck.” George groaned, his heels pressing into the mattress as he came and he bucked up sloppily and pathetically into your body a few more times, just to feel you all as he finished. 

You nearly cradled his head in your hands, blessed with the sight of his orgasm that spread across his flushed cheeks and swollen lips. When he eased out of it, his eyes found yours and right away he was leaning up just enough to kiss you, sliding his hand up your back to grab you by the back of your neck again. You shared pleasurable moans and heavy breaths into your kisses and your hands cascaded down his chest as you sat back from him. 

George hummed softly as he watched you sit up straight and he tucked his arms behind his head again, following your every movement as you secured your balance by your hands on his abs and slowly started to rise up. Trickles of thick white cream slipped down his softening cock as he slipped out of you and a little squeak of air followed. You shared light laughter at the sound and you knelt up over his lap and spread your pussy open between two fingers to let his cum drip back out of you and onto his warm skin, dotting that thin line of hair that dipped down from his navel to the base of his cock. 

George dropped a hand down to smear his fingers between your legs and pushed three inside you just to hear that filthy wet squelch again. He wiggled them deeper and you hummed flatly at the feeling, letting him do as he wished and when he pulled them back out seconds later, another little squeak of air slipped out. 

“Stop making me do that, it’s embarrassing.” you mumbled shyly, pushing his hand away.

“Just means we did a good job.” George tisked sweetly and slid his fingers into your mouth. 

You moaned quietly around them and he hooked his finger in your cheek to pull you down onto the mattress beside him. You pulled off his fingers with a greedy slurp and then cuddled up at his side, letting him wrap that arm around your shoulders instead and he pressed a kiss to your hair as he pulled you closer. 

“I love you.” you whispered. 

“I love you so much more.” George replied. 

“No you don’t.” you corrected as your eyes closed and you wrapped your arm around his middle and tucked one ankle around his. 

He kissed your head again and spoke into your hair, his fingers trailing over your back and shoulders, “Yes, I do.” 

“Prove it.” You merely giggled proudly and leaned in for a kiss but before your lips could meet, his phone rang. 

You sighed but hidden behind your still blissed out smile and George gently nudged your arm and leg from around his naked body so he could go retrieve his phone from his bag from the night before. Without the cover of sheets, you were still comfortable enough in his familiar presence to drape yourself out naked on the king size bed, watching him hop quickly across the hotel room floor to grab his phone. 

George raised it to his ear as his other hand pushed his hair out of his face, “Hey, Alex.”

You couldn’t hear what the conversation on the other side was about but you were too focused on your boyfriend’s beautifully sculpted body in the sunlight that streamed through the window; something about the Florida sky that seemed to have him shimmering in his element. He came around to sit on your side of the bed as he listened to his best friend’s concerns through the phone. 

“Yeah, we’re still meeting after lunch. I only have a quick debrief after practice this morning. Should be ready by 2:30 at the latest.” George answered. 

He leaned in to press a silent kiss to your neck, sliding his arm around your middle to pull your body closer and you giggled quietly at his touch. 

“No, you didn’t wake me. Was up for a while.” George continued, sending you a cheeky little smile and you leaned in to kiss his lips as quietly as you could. He angled his phone so the microphone was farther away as he moved down your neck again and turned to lean his body right over top of yours, falling on top of you right back down against the bed. 

“Working.” George answered his friend into your neck, “Very important work.”

With him so close, you could barely make out Alex’s repeated disbelieving, “Very important work?” through the phone. 

“Mhm. It’s a beautiful day. Had to get started as soon as possible.” George answered as he lifted his head up from your neck again to stare right into your eyes. 

You pressed your hand to his cheek adoringly and he leaned into your touch, sharing smiles together. 

“Now I gotta shower. I’ll see you at the track later.” George hurried out and then shoved the phone at you, “Say bye.”

You called out a far too loud, “Bye Alex!” right into the receiver.

George hung up and then tossed his phone across the mattress to give all his attention to tackling you back down on the bed in a shower of kisses and shared blissful laughter. 

♡ Enjoying my content? Support my writing here :)

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[lewisvinga]

ultimate wag | alex albon & lily muni he x fem! reader

summary; alex and lily soft launching their relationship with y/n but everyone keeps assuming they’re friends, so y/n takes matters into her own hands to hard launch

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; suggestive comments

taglist; @namgification

notes; requested! ALEX AND LILY ARE MY SHITTT, i am actually so in love w them both , they’re soooo🤭

masterlist !

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and others

lilymhe: thailand 🌴⛱️🌊🛥️🇹🇭❤️

tagged; yourusername, alex_albon

yourusername: got a sunburn 😞 but 100% wanna go back😩

lilymhe: i got aloe vera gel i got u pretty girl

username: ALEXLSKD

username: her friendship w y/n is so cute! and i love how alex is close w her too!!

username: couples trip ft y/n😭

alex_albon: cool

lilymhe: u were the least cool out of all of us

alex_albon: wah wah

yourusername: she’s right you were

carmenmmundt: i miss you girlies!! we need to link up soon !

lilymhe: YES i’ve miss you too😢

yourusername: girls trip this time?😁

georgerussell63: not you guys keeping the bad bitches out

alex_albon: how rude!

liked by lilymhe, yourusername, and others

alex_albon: recharging 🔋

tagged; yourusername, lilymhe

yourusername: lils was thinkin’ hard

alex_albon: thinking hard or hardly thinking

lilymhe: you both know what i was thinking about 😼

yourusername: oh!

alex_albon: there are children (logan) here, lily!

logansargeant: oh! 2x

username: idk yall i’m not feeling the 2nd picture

username: the way y/n is holding onto alex and lily???? seems more than friendship to me😭

username: nah she’s always been cuddly, that’s how she is i think

landonorris: did you fall

alex_albon: wtf no

yourusername: liar! i have a video of it!

landonorris: SHAREEE

username: alex and his gf and his gf’s gf

username: lily is stronger than me bc if my friend was holding my bf’s face like that, we wouldn’t be friends anymore

lilymhe uploaded to their story!

[caption 1; happy birthday, pretty girl💗💗] [caption 2; too tired to walk in her heels😴 ( told her to not wear the ysl heels bc we were going to walk a long distance 🙄 )]

alex_albon uploaded to their story!

[caption 1; happy birthday, sweet girl🌸] [caption 2; my girls post 2 bottles of wine]

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and others

yourusername: f1 driver bf x golf player gf = the ultimate wag ¿

tagged; lilymhe, alex_albon

alex_albon: the ultimate final boss wag

lilymhe: I CAN TAKE HER I CALL DIBS FIRST

alex_albon: lily wait THATS NOT EVEN FAIR??

yourusername: lils called dibs sorry 😕

alex_albon: love you, sweet girl❤️

yourusername: love you, my best boy💗👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

lilymhe:wow we are all so hot liked by yourusername!

username: so true

lilymhe: my pretty girl!! love u💓

yourusername: love u lils😣💗

username: OHMYOGSIDJ

username: my parents

username: goodness gracious

username: whatta sexy couple

username: alex winning at life w 2 pretty girls by his side

yourusername: u hear that albono?? alex_albon means stop being mean

alex_albon: you only call me mean because i try to limit your coffee intake 🙄🙄

lilymhe: BOOO

logansargeant: ur bf was mean to me today btw☹️☹️☹️

yourusername: i’ll protect u from alex_albon 🤺

alex_albon: u americans are snitches😕

username: i’d do anything to join this throuple

username: this is so weird

username: womp womp , they’re happy so who cares liked by yourusername, alex_albon, lilymhe!

username: i didn’t expect this at all

username: bye i thought alex and lily were monogamous this whole ass time

username: im literally like 😦😦😦 bc since when were lily and alex poly???😩

username: OOMF ON TWITTER WAS RIGHT?

[sashiavi]

•··········🍑···········• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•···········🍑··········•

this has been rotting in my documents since October </3 abandoned kinktober prompt I just couldn't get out of my head :((

•·············🍑·············•🍑•·············🍑·············•

♡𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗♡ Wriothesley x Reader - wrio finds you stuck in a wall

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: | ¹⁸⁺ | ˢᵐᵘᵗ | ᵃᶠᵃᵇ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ | ᴾʳᶦˢᵒⁿᵉʳᵎ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ | ᵖᵘⁿᶦˢʰᵐᵉⁿᵗ | ˢᵗᵘᶜᵏ ᶦⁿ ᵃ ʷᵃˡˡ | ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐᶦᶜˢ | ᵈᵒᵐ/ˢᵘᵇ | ⁿᵃˢᵗʸ ⁿᵃˢᵗʸ ʷʳᶦᵒ ˢᵐᵘᵗ | ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ³.⁵ᵏ

→ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵂᵃʳⁿᶦⁿᵍ←

ᵀʰᶦˢ ᴾᶦᵉᶜᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶦⁿˢ ᵀʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ᴼᶠ ⁻ ᴰᵘᵇᶜᵒⁿ|ᴰᵘᵐᵇᶦᶠᶦᶜᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ|ˢᵗᵘᶜᵏᵃᵍᵉ| ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᴰᶦˢᶜʳᵉᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᴵˢ ᴬᵈᵛᶦˢᵉᵈ

•· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·····.•🍑•.····· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·•

Well, well. What an amusing predicament. Wriothesley certainly didn't expect his morning to turn out so… Interestingly. 

The Duke makes his rounds through the Fortress of Metropide twice a day. Once in the morning and again during the young hours of the night, right when the sun sets. Not that its rays could be seen so far down under the surface of the sea, but the sentiment was there. Wriothesely would often be seen passing through the establishment's pleasantries, always making a stop by the inmate sleeping quarters, he ought to have an idea of exactly whom he had in his Fortress.. Right?

He ventures further than the guards are assigned, boots clicking coolly against the metallic flooring, echoing through the high domed ceilings of the holding pods. The Duke makes an effort into personally peeking a look into each isolated cell, sometimes striking up a small conversation with an inmate or two. The man knew all-too-well just how lonesome time in prison was, he could at least acknowledge their existences. 

Speaking of, his mind wanders as he approaches a specific cell, isolated and cold - Away from the rest, segregated by the Fortress’ rule of separating cases, depending on their verdict - Wriothesley flitters back to a conversation he held the night before -

- “Now, what's a girl like you doing here in my Fortress?” Wriothesley leans himself upon the bars of your cell. The area was quiet, isolated with little inhabitants, even more so during the day time, while inmates congregated within the public area of the fortress. You jump slightly, whipping around to face him. 

“Oh, you know.. Stuff..” You reply, looking a little shameless towards him. He had an inkling that you were up to no good. But he’d bite.

“How’s the Fortress treating you? Despite the whole prison aspect,” He chuckles to himself, earning your own laugh, dancing in his ears.

“It’s.. a little boring in here,” He watches your eyes wander around the cell.

“Well- At least you have that poster there, plenty of fun to stare at, I’m sure.” Wriothesley lets his eyes crinkle. The poster was large, stuck to the wall haphazardly, crooked and torn on one corner. “That thing could cover up anything,” He side comments. He watches your interest pique, head tilting in what he could only describe as thought - A stupid one he thinks. 

“I wouldn't try it, you just might escape. I can't have that happen, now can I?” He winks, finally continuing his evening round throughout the section of the fortress.

All of that circles back to the now, as Wriothesley approaches your cell on his morning patrol. Something stirs in his chest, a tickling inkling. He nearly half expects you to have followed his gracious ‘advice’ - If you could even call it that. 

Lo and behold, the Duke spots a special individual poking out from the cracked cell wall. Your lower half nearly dangles from the partition, practically on tippy toes, ankles surely close to giving out from the awkward position. The poster from the night before lays perfectly on the floor next to your frame, comically outlining just how bad you had messed up. He nearly chuckles at the sudden jolt of your body as he unlocks the cell door, craning it open with an obnoxious creak.

“Well.. Aren’t you something?” His heavy boots resonate through the near barren cell, echoing as he makes his way towards your predicament.

You helplessly squirm, whining out of your throat as you fruitlessly struggle in your impromptu confines. Wriothesley stares down at you in utter bemusement, his face cracking with an audacious downturned smile; not that you could see his face through the thick prison wall. Poor You. All lodged and stuck.

"Y-Your Grace! It's not what it looks like-" Your voice manages through the wall, a little muffled to the ear. However, Wriothesley was sure you hadn’t even broken into the adjacent room.

"It's exactly what it looks like. Who knew you'd actually try it." He almost laughs. It wasn’t like you were going to go anywhere - Last he checked, the Fontainian Ocean was right outside their door.

“Seemed like a decent idea..” Wriothesley has to strain to hear your mumble.

“We’re far under the water dear.. Or did you forget in your haste?” This time, he makes no effort to stifle his laugh, chuckling out loud when your form visibly slumps - Whether out of embarrassment or defeat - He was thoroughly amused.

“Hmm.. Now, what do we do with you?” Wriothesley teases. He cranes his body, bending his back with purpose, inspecting the damage you had added to the already faulty wall. How you had managed to wiggle your way in this far, he hadn't a clue. Your body noticeably tenses, you make an attempt to find a proper footing, easily failing from the height of the hole.

“P-Please Your Grace- I’ll do anything, really! Anything you want just- please don’t add time for this..”

“You’ll do.. Anything…?” Call him confused, what were you on about?

“Yes, anything- ch-chores? Solitary? I’ll be good I swear, really- Or you could..” You trail off, leaving the Duke to sit with his whirring brain for a moment. “You.. Can take me… Use me how you want- Please~ Y-You’re stressed right? U-Use me.. Do whatever you wanna-” You sounded nearly delirious. Your pretty ass shakes, brushing up against the front of his pants, a feeble attempt to press back into him.

Were you trying to bargain with him? Wriothesley was more than ready to pull you out, maybe give a little slap on the wrist and send you on your merry way. But now? The Duke couldn't help but indulge in the feeling of his pants tightening around his groin. The idea of taking your pretty self, stuck helplessly in the wall. He couldn't refuse your offer, right? Not when you sounded so eager. Not when you begged for him, for his body, for his thick aching cock, threatening to burst the seam of his trousers. 

Before he can properly stop himself - Not that he was really going to - Wriothesley finds his hands on the soft swell of your ass, squeezing the flesh in his palms. You jolt under his touch, footing slipping slightly against the floor that barely brushed against your toes. Wriothesley breathes hard from his nose, hooking his fingers into the cut of your waistband, pulling the fabric over your form. He hears a whimper from beyond the wall.

“Y-Your Grace…The wall..” Your voice wobbles, body tensing against the brush of his hands.

“What? Having second thoughts?” He can’t help but tease you, squishing his fingers into the soft meat of your ass, digging his hands into your half-on pants. You did say anything. You gasp out, voice cracking with muffled little pleas. ‘Never’ you say ‘Want it bad - so bad’.

Your pants come off quickly, thrown to the floor in a crumple. Wriothesley’s hands are on you again, spreading the fat of your ass apart, marvelling at the pretty swell of your pussy hugged against your panties. He watches your plush thighs squish together, rubbing and squirming in his hold, he couldn't tell if you were wiggling away or keening into him. Not that you could go anywhere. The thought irks a chuckle out of Wriothesley. His fingers wander again, caressing over the soft skin of your ass, digging them in and jiggling cheekily. His thumbs slide over and hook into the elastic of your panties, hugging around the thick of your legs. He meanly tugs at the snappy material, pulling it up and taught, forcing the fabric to cling achingly against your cunt. His tongue instinctively pokes from behind his lips, itching to lap at the pretty wet spot that had formed over the fabric. 

Wriothesley swallows thickly, eyes locked on your pretty cunt, head swimming with the short, hiccuped whines that cut through the wall. You babble and cry, repeating his title over and over - Your Grace, Your Grace - begging him to just touch. To do anything - Anything. 

Your pretty voice gets to him and he finds himself nearly ripping your drenched panties off of you. He pulls them down, leaving them dangling off of your legs, showing off your wet cunt just for him. Gods, he wasn't disappointed. Your pretty pussy peeks from behind the swell of your thighs, already dripping wet, all over yourself. He swears he twitches, breath hissing through his teeth, cold on your core. The sweet jump you make - as best as you could - sends him reeling. 

Wriothesley’s thick fingers tentatively poke at your dripping pussy, catching your sweet, dribbly slick on his fingertips. He awes at how it webs between his fingers, how you’d managed to work yourself up with your own babbling. Perhaps the wall aided a little - Showing off your bottom half, on full display just for him to enjoy, your own vision obscured. You wouldn't see anything coming. The thought runs straight to his cock, making itself well known again against the fly of his trousers. 

Wriothesley licks against his lips, enamoured at the pretty string of your slick on his fingers, sticking between his digits like a lattice. He needs more. He wastes no time, easily slipping in two of his fingers, knuckle deep right into the doughy swell of your hole. Gods, you felt so soft. Silky to his touch, pussy pretty and plushy and warm. The squeal that muffles through the wall forces him to sink his teeth into his own bottom lip. Toying with you came to him naturally. Ever so easy with you all snug and stuck, silly enough to try and swindle him and escape your commitment to the Fortress. 

“W-Wriothesley… your g-grace..” He ignores you, fingers digging into the sweet, supple curve of your cunt. He curls them downward, earning the prettiest, muffled cries through the wall. He releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Wriothesley thrusts his fingers hard. Pressing meanly into the achy swollen bump in your core, getting a kick out of the lewd suckling squelch of your pussy on his fingers. Your poor legs practically give out, ankles going limp, your body holding itself up thanks to the wall hugging your body. Your voice crackles through the cement, whiney and keening, babbling dumb nonsensical begs and pleads to him. Your slick pools against his knuckles, threatening to overturn the snug fit of his rings on his fingers. He can't help but stare, locked in, mind reeling with the way your cunt wrapped around his digits. He couldn't help but wonder just what that pretty little thing would look like, all red and puffy, hugging on his thick cock.

He shamelessly lets out his own groan. Finally managing to remove his fingers, watching in awe as your slick drips off of them, connecting him to you with a thin, dribbly line. 

Just a taste…

The thought zaps through his brain, tongue shamelessly poking its way past his teeth, running over his lips with a quick tilt of his head.

Wriothesley wastes no time. Wrapping his lips against your slick cunt, eyes rolling hard into the back of his skull. Fuck. Your taste on his tongue, sweet and tangy, oh so decadently coating his throat. Archons, he laps and suckles, nearly sinking his teeth into the heat of your core, into the puffy swell of your pussy lips. You keen back into him, whining never-ending, absolutely ceaseless, voice managing to pierce through the heavy material of the wall you’d stuck yourself in. That thought charges through his mind again. Poor little you, all stuck and lodged in the wall all for him to play with. The man was sure he would cream in his own pants if he kept up. He barely registers his knees beginning to ache under the heavy pressure of his own body meeting the floor. Since when had he managed to sink down? Finding his hands back on your plushy ass cheeks? Chin dribbling slobber and slick, sticking wetly to the scratchy stubble shadowing over his face? He couldn't take it anymore. 

Wriothesley stands with a start, ignoring the stiff crack of his knees in favour of unbuckling his godforsaken pants. His hands are clumsy, large palms pawing at the metal of his trousers, his belt suddenly too intricate for his rough, fervent body to figure out - Not with how his mind reels, with the sight of you stuck in the wall, pretty pussy drooling, on display all for him. He barely shoves his pants to his thighs, the material wrapping around his legs in a mess. His cock weeps as it's free, slapping up into his stomach, heavy balls hanging over the waist of his trousers. He leaks beads of sticky pre, messing up the surface of his dress shirt. Wriothesley groans out loud, hand coming up to wrap around the base of his cock, squeezing it up and down to ease the hot tension pulsing through his thick cock vein. 

He was sure you heard the cold clink of his belt, the only inkling of what was to come for you. He can't help but jerk his length off to the sight of you, shamelessly stalling just to mess with your head. No matter how much you squirm and beg, crying out as best as you could, stupidly asking for a reply to gather any kind of indication of what he was about to do to you. He stays silent.

Wriothesley meanly slaps his cock over the sticky, wet folds of your achy cunt, he chuckles when you jump again, going absolutely crazy for your every little reaction. Your pussy sounded so pretty on his tip, all wet and sticky as he slapped and rubbed against it. His fat tip slides over your warm, slick folds, craning his hips forward, catching against your sopping hole, earning him the softest gasps from within the wall. Your little jumps all but spur him all the more on.

“M’ not even in yet.. Pussy’s already tryin’ to suck me in,” Wriothesley pokes his tip against your hole, catching it against the warm, supple squeeze of your cunt. He growls through his teeth, head quickly draining of any cohesive decision making. Your babbling continues through the wall, your hips crane up into his own, wiggling and catching back on the thick head of his dick. Gods, that does it. You were insatiable, all stuck waiting for him to come along and ravage your pretty cunt with his cock. 

It all urges him to dive in, give your poor cunt no warning for his thick, dribbling cock.

And so he does.

“Fuuuckk” Wriothesley can’t help but groan, finally feeling the sweet swell of your cunt enveloped the fat length of his cock. He has to bite into his thumb, just to slow himself down, let himself relish in the sweet squeeze of your cunt on his cock. Gods the way you wrapped around him, silky soft walls hugging on his length. He can't help but awe at the way your achy pussy squeezed on him, all puffy and sore from neglect. His hands find your hips, one of the only parts free from the wall.

“Your Grace~.. So big- so biiig… Filling me up- please please… please” Your silly voice cracks through the wall. Wriothesley digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips, purposely lifting your poor legs off of the floor, leveraging your body just for him to use. You squirm in his hold, easily forcing him to grip you tighter.

“Fuck, stay still. Gonna make me go crazy..” Wriothesley finds himself mindlessly rocking his thick cock into your silky cunny, humping his hips against your ass like some kind of dog in rut. Archons, he could get used to this. His own personal little wall slut, always there for him to use and abuse. His eyes roll at the idea, his snapping hard, earning a loud hiccuped cry from within the thick wall. The hot squelch that follows has him nearly drooling, mouth dropped open in a soft frown, eyes locked on to his heavy cock sliding in and out of your dumb cunt. He fucks his hips hard again, cock head smacking into the deepest parts of your pussy.

Wriothesley doesn't remember speeding up. But he sure as hell won't be slowing down - not anytime soon. Your gushy pussy squelches on his cock, dribbling down your thighs, messing all over your poor aching legs. Wriothesley’s fingers keep a hold of your hips, rocking them slightly to meet his brutal pace. He doesn't have to crane his ears to hear your pretty moans, effortlessly reaping through the solid wall, barely muffled by the sheer loudness of your voice. 

Fuck, he didn’t care about the noise. Let everyone hear them. What were they going to do about it? What were you going to do about it? About getting all stuck in this wall, going against the Fortress’ protocol? Seducing the Duke of the Meropide, forcing him to fuck your dumb brains out to teach you a lesson? A growl resonates from his throat, hips snapping hard, clapping into the sweet swell of your ass cheeks as he fucks up your cunt. 

Wriothesley’s eyes wander, locking down on the sweet jiggle of your ass and the puffy red throb of your cunt on his cock. A heavy breath makes its way through his nose, eyes hyper focused on the pretty, creamy ring around his length as he fucks his hips against you, slowly leaking its way on to his pants. An ache builds in his pelvis, thick vein pulsing on the underside of his cock. Your moans don't stop, legs continuously squirming in his grasp, body stuck in the juncture of your silly wall. He thinks you beg, maybe you scream, crying out for him to keep going, to fill you up to cum hard and deep and mess up your insides. 

Wriothesley drops your legs, forcing you to dangle, his hands press into the wall above, grinding his hips upwards, stabbing your pussy impossibly deeper with his length. Sweat beads off of his nose, his calves cramp and ache with every thrust he makes, but Gods, he wasn't going to stop. He finds himself moaning out loud, complementing the pretty noises that creak through the wall. Your pussy hugs on his length, squeezing nice and tight, wrapping around his fat tip every time he slams it back into you. 

His teeth grit hard. Eyes still locked on to the messy slide of his length, in and out, in and out. He was coming close. So fucking close.

Wriothesley’s brow scrunches, relishing in the aching squeeze of your messy pussy on his cock. He couldn't take it anymore. The creamy ring he’d fucked out of you, the pretty ripple of your ass on his hips, how juicy and gushy your cunt was on his length. Gods, it was all so much. His hips snap, pace faltering, clapping his hips in heated staccatos, dragging his length out and slamming right back in with a hard smack. You cry with every thrust, silky cunt squeezing on his tip, babbling his name over and over and over. 

He finally spills with a deep, hard fuck. His thick tip spurts hot rivulets of cum into your silky pussy. He messes your insides with white, fucking himself through his orgasm, humping up on your cunt, mounting your pussy with his cock. His throat growls with every fuck, sweat beads off of the tip of his nose, he watches his hot spurts leak steadily out of your hole, leaking around the base of his length. He can’t help but nestle right into your cunt, relishing in the sweet squeeze of your milky walls on him, he cranes his hips every so often, teasing his aching tip with your soft insides.

You kick and whine as eventually, he pulls out, dribbling his hot white cum down your thighs. 

“No~ need more! More more!” Your muffled voice cries, pitifully wiggling within the hug of the wall, attempting to squirm your way out.

Wriothesley chuckles hotly, eying off the sweet gush of cum that drools out of your puffy pussy. His mouth waters, salivating like a dog. Surely he could take you out of the wall a little later? You’d understand. You’d been a great little wall slut for him so far, so why not indulge for as long as he wanted? Maybe he'd let you cum, spray and mess all over yourself - He could even let you out as a reward.

His finger comes up to caress over your spent hole, scooping up the leaking slick that coated your poor pussy. The cry he earns makes his half-hard cock stiffen, bobbing to life with a flex.

Archons, weren’t you something?

hnnnnnng gg g wrio wooof wOof - my longest fics are always wrio </3

Idk what possessed me to create this- I hope you enjoyed ;3

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Thank You For Reading! Comments Are Always, Always Appreciated! Ilysm <333

♡ᵀᵃᵍˡᶦˢᵗ♡

@madsw9 @pvbbyb0y @heath-sama @shiningpaint-marbleheart @the-massive-simp @tericula @a-random-weeb @mechalily @mydarlingdahlia @finnie9479

•· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·····.•🍑•.····· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·•

Do Not Translate Or Repost - Property Of SashiAvi ♡

[starogeorgina]

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝

Parings: Alys Rivers x reader, Daemyra x reader

Warnings: Smut, swearing, choking, incest, slight dubcon (under the influence of magic)

You had yet to decide if being forced to travel to Harrenhal alone in the name of your brother and king, Aegon, to persuade the river lords to fight for him was the best or worst thing to happen to you during the war. You arrived days before Daemon did, but you had barely spoken to anyone; you had been far too trapped in your own mind to rally an army.

“Good girl, just like that.”

Alys’s praise causes the throbbing between your legs to worsen. If the rumors were to be believed, Alys Rivers was a witch, and you weren’t sure if you believed she was anything other than a temptress. From the moment your dragon landed at Harrenhal, you sensed something shifting—a charge in the air. You arrived during the hour of the owl, and Ser Simon Strong had been a gracious hoist and honest about not bending the knee to Aegon from the beginning. He also warned you to stay away from Alys.

She starts rutting against your face while you suck on her clit. “Are you going to do everything I say, precious?”

Unable to answer verbally, you nod.

“Good. I know that tongue of yours can be used for more than just a witty comeback, so I expect you to use it on the silver-haired queen.”

You nod again.

Alys looks down at you with a smirk on her face; she thrives welding such power over a dragon. She strokes your hair and says, “You’ll take the king consort's seed and seduce the queen. Pleasure her as you do me.”

Perhaps Alys was a witch; it was the only logical reason why you would agree to such a thing.

Alys squeezes your breast, causing you to press your thighs together. She moans, “I want you to moan for them. Let them hear the sweet sounds of you coming undone.”

You finally remove your mouth from her cunny. “What do I do after?”

“When they are done fucking you, you come and find me.” She smiles down at you, her hand delicately resting above your forehead. “But first, you will finish pleasuring me, and then I shall return the favor until the time is right.”

—

“She’s been too busy burying her head between the witch's thighs to raise an army.”

Daemon wasn’t wrong; you were preoccupied with Alys when Rhaenyra arrived at Harrenhal. The army her husband had gathered bent the knee to her, and the couple had reunited. You raise your brows, challenging him, “Jealous?”

His lips twitch as he fights back the urge to lash back, but the look on Rhaenyra's face prevents him from saying anything further. She had you brought to their bedchamber to speak in privacy. “Last we spoke, you mentioned your mother was pushing to find you a match; did you make one?”

“I refused every man she put before me.”

The line of questioning had nothing to do with the war being waged. Perhaps the witch was messing with everyone's minds.

“Why?” She asks sternly.

“Mirre se vali sia nākostōbā.” (All the men were weak.)

She smirks, “You want to marry someone who shares the blood of the dragon.”

“No, I don’t want to marry them. I just want their seed.” You chuckle, “Don’t look so surprised, sister; we both know the men we choose to marry don’t need to father whatever children we bear. I don’t see an issue with wanting to keep our bloodline pure.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon share a look. They silently exchange words, and when Rhaenyra nods her husband's strut over to you, he takes your chin in his hand. “The queen is not only generous; she is merciful. She will spare your life and will allow me to fill you with my seed, but only if you swear to fight for her.”

“I swear.”

“Sȳz riña.” (Good girl)

Rhaenyra traces her hand along the curve of your ass. “The child and any dragon they bond with will only fight for me.”

“Yes.”

Daemon comes up behind you and rubs your breasts through your dress. When he feels your nipples become hard, he pinches them. His lips brush against your ear. “Say yes, my queen.”

“Yes, my queen.”

He chuckled cruelly, “such a wanton princess.

“A spoilt princess,” Rhaenyra adds. “Strip for us.”

Quickly, you take off your dress and stand naked in front of them. The thought of being touched by them both excited and terrified you.

Rhaenyra looks you up and down with a wicked smile on her face. “Lay on your back and open your legs.”

Following her command, you get onto the bed and lay on your back. The blue sheets beneath you are soft against your skin. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you spread your legs open and expose yourself to both of them.

Rhaenyra tuts seeing how wet you are. “And I suppose I’ll need to make sure you’re ready to take the king's cock,” her tone mocking, yet she slides her nails across the soft flesh of your thigh, then slides a finger into your wet cunny with ease. “She is tight.”

“Oh,” Daemon taps his cock against your mouth. As soon as your lips parted, Daemon shoved himself into your mouth. “You are indeed a merciful queen.”

Rhaenyra removed her own clothing; the curves of her body are a beautiful sight to see. She stands between your legs and leans down. She flicks her tongue over your clit a few times, but when you moan, she stops. “You are enjoying this far too much. This is a privilege you should be working harder for.”

Like an obedient worker in a pillow house, you take him deeper into your mouth. Daemon groans, feeling the vibrations of you gagging on his cock. He wipes the saliva pooling from your mouth and spreads it across your breasts. “You enjoy being used; perhaps we will bring you back to Dragonstone to be the queen's whore. Would you like that?”

You nod while choking on him.

“She’s so wet.” Rhaenyra kneels between your thighs, and her tongue dips in between your folds.

Daemon pulls his cock from your mouth and watches as his wife scissors two fingers inside your cunt and sucks on your clit, stretching you out for him. From the skilled way Rhaenyra fucks you with her finger and mouth, you know this isn’t the first time she’s touched a woman.

Coming undone, you arch your back and coat her fingers with your juices.

Rhaenyra and Daemon switch places, and while he slides the head of his cock between your folds, you take Rhaenyra's breast into your mouth and suck greedily.

Daemon mumbles something in High Valyrian, then roughly pushes into you, stretching your cunt on his cock.

Feeling your body tense, Rhaenyra glides her hand over your stomach and, using two fingers, starts rubbing your clit. “You are taking him well. Is this your first time being bedded by a man?”

You let go of her breast to answer her, “Yes.”

Daemon lightly slaps your thigh.

“Yes, my queen.”

Smirking Daemon says, “The princess is learning quickly.”

Alys voice echoes inside your head, telling you to please Rhaenyra just as you did her. “My queen, please, let me pleasure you with my mouth.”

Her free hand is suddenly around your neck, and Rhaenyra squeezes hard to make you squirm without completely cutting off your air supply. Her lips graze against yours. “Do you think you deserve to taste me?”

“No, my queen, I don't. But I do wish to make you feel good.”

Rhaenyra smashes her lips against yours, then abruptly pulls away. Daemon speeds up his thrusts while Rhaenyra gets onto the bed and straddles your face. Alys has taught you how to fuck a woman with your tongue and fingers, and it doesn’t take Rhaenyra long to start moaning your name.

Her screams of pleasure are silenced by Daemon when he captures his lips.

The sounds of them kissing are exhilarating. Your legs are gripped tightly and held open wider as Daemon’s thrusts become sloppy. It only takes a few more rubs at your clit for you to come undone again, but your moans are muffled by Rhaenyra’s cunt. The vibrations of your moans tip her over the edge; she squeezes your breast harshly while riding her high against your face.

Daemon fingers dig into your hips. He grunts, spilling his seed inside you.

Rhaenyra gets off you and tenderly kisses your neck; her skin is shinny with sweat, and her head is disheveled. She looks beautiful. “What are you thinking about, princess?”

“That Harrenhal is cursed.”

Confused by your answer, she rests her head against your shoulder while Daemon caresses your leg with one hand and strokes his half-erect cock with the other. The king consort was far from done with you.

Somewhere in the distance, you hear Alys giggling. Taking Daemon’s seed was only the beginning of her plan.

[yandere-sins]

Stuck in the Nightmare

I really had to think about this prompt because what nightmare could be made worse by a small change? And then I remembered my Obey Me! Phase and how unsettling Barbatos always was to me. And I realized what I had to do.

Fandom: Obey Me! Pairings: Yandere!Barbatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Minor Sexual Content (Consensual Groping and Fondling, Mentioning of Sex) Forced Captivity, Abuse of power, Magical Stockholm Syndrom, Mention of breaking a darling, Depiction of feeling sick Prompt: @sintember Horrifying concept, thank you - A small change in the world could be a nightmare.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Good morning, Dear."

Your lips curled into a sleepy smile as you felt Barbatos' lips press against your forehead, a kiss so tender it made you long for more. "Morning," you sighed blissfully, prying an eye open to see your boyfriend in all the glory of the morning sunlight shining through the window.

Moving aside, you made room in the bed for him to climb in, and you wasted no time sinking into his open embrace like you did every morning. No words were needed to speak about the happiness and love you felt when you were wrapped in Barbatos's arms, his time so precious, yet he spent every free second of it with you. And you reciprocated his affection as best as you could, squeezing your demon boyfriend until he chuckled about your efforts while you slowly worked your kisses up his throat and to his mouth.

Life's been better since you got to know him. Since you fell in love. Even if you had to spend most of the day apart due to his work, you were never happier waiting for someone to return to you. Barbatos was worth every minute of boredom, every hour of loneliness. He gave back thrice as much as you lost, wondering when he'd be home that night. Thrice as much effort, thrice as much care, and thrice the amount of true, unashamed love and adoration he held for you that you could never expect from a mere human. Although strange, you were thankful for your boyfriend being a demon, never once worried about all the implications it bore.

"What day is it?" you yawned loudly before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Barbatos brushed his hand over your hair, ever so slightly pressing you against him harder, showing you once again that he wanted you close to him just as much as you, him.

"Sunday, Love. Although it pains me, I'll be busy again today."

His embrace tightened around you a bit further, and it pained you to know how awful he felt about the fact he was too important to get even a single day off. Sometimes you cursed his employer, but Barbatos, gracious as he was, told you how much he cared about the prince you had heard so much about—good and bad. That he was grateful to be the right-hand man of such a great demon. You didn't really get it, but if it made him happy, you wanted to support him, no matter what. Even when it was the last day before you'd have to go back to work, too, and you'd rather spend it with him fully than to miss him like you had all weekend long.

Squeezing him back encouragingly, you nodded into his chest before releasing a long, content breath. "It's fine," you told him, rubbing his back as you felt the tension build in his body from your reply.

"I'm really sorry—”

"It's fine, Barbs. I know this is important to you, and I'm not running away. I'll stay inside today anyway since we're not in the human world, and I have this really good book I want to finish! And we can have dinner together or go star-gazing when you get home!

Immediately upon hearing your reassurance, Barbatos let out a shuddering breath. "I can't hide anything from you. Thank you for being so understanding."

"Of course!" Letting your head fall back, you caught his gaze, so full of tenderness and love, and felt your heart swell with the same wave of emotions. The kiss you shared was worth more than any confession and any thanks—mutual understanding, trust, a silent vow.

His hands brushed down your body, over the curve of your butt, giving it a squeeze that made you giggle against his lips. You gently scolded him for getting frisky with you before he had to leave. Barbatos couldn't help the playfulness in his voice as he promised, "I'll make it up to you and get your favorite food for you before I get to have a taste of my favorite thing in the world."

"Oh, you," you retorted, but the fake annoyance was quickly diminished by another kiss, your bodies heating up wherever they touched, making it harder and harder to get away while stoking the desire inside of you.

"I really got to go," Barbatos huffed against your lips, and you hesitated before pushing on his chest to separate you both.

"Then off with you, stop seducing me in broad daylight!"

He realized you were just joking around with him, yet, with another yearning glance, he briefly pecked your lips before tearing away, leaving an uncomfortable cold where he laid.

"I'll hurry," he assured you, and you smiled, sitting up in the bed. Truthfully, you already missed him, but you knew it was important to him, and so it was important to you.

"I know, don't worry about me."

"Thank you, Love."

With one last kiss to your forehead, Barbatos grabbed his coat on the way out, waving at you with an almost boyish grin. It was a side only you got to see, a side no one would expect from mysterious Barbatos. The real, vulnerable him, he could only show you. It made you feel special. You were special.

"I love you!" you yelled after him, and before he closed the door, he stuck his head through once more, beaming.

"I love you, too."

With that, he was gone, and you were alone in his home. Falling back into the cushions, you pulled the blanket and pillows around you, still faintly smelling Barbatos on them as they enveloped you in warmth.

Who would have thought you could love someone so much, especially someone not human? Sure, it sucked being stuck alone in the Devildom, but it would all be worth it when you got him all to yourself for the whole night again. A tingle went through your body, right to your core, where you still remembered the pleasure he had given you the night before. You could still recall the gentle, loving words he had whispered into your ear while, at the same time, making you see stars by probing and teasing the most sensitive spots on your body.

He wasn't just your boyfriend you doubted you deserved; Barbatos was also a lover beyond any imagination. Thrashing in the sheets, you couldn't believe your luck that someone like Barbatos loved you. That someone so amazing, wonderful, caring, and loving was yours. Because that's what he liked to call himself.

Yours.

All yours, with body and mind, for all eternity, devoted and reverently.

Your eyes filled up as the happiness overwhelmed you, the worries and agony of the past almost forgotten in the warm sunlight of the Devildom. Barbatos told you to stay indoors unless he was with you, and you couldn't wait for the day he'd take you outside and show you his city in all its beauty. Surely, with him by your side, nothing bad would happen to you, and you two would have the most exquisite experiences.

But that was a thing for another weekend.

Today would be a wonderful day of reading and waiting. Waiting for your Barbatos to return.

Slipping out of bed, you reached for the book on your nightstand, only for your fingers to hit the wood instead of the soft cover. "Strange..." you mumbled, vividly remembering putting the book right there on the nightstand. Or did you? Why did you remember reading in it before going to bed when it wasn't there?

Did you read it?

Looking over to the coffee table, you found your book sitting there. You suddenly remembered how you were reading on the couch the night before, then Barbatos coming home and taking you to bed after you had your favorite food.

"And I was reading on the couch because... it was Sunday. Huh?"

Didn't Barbatos say today was Sunday? You usually read your book in bed throughout the week, one chapter before bed being your credo. Taking the book over to the couch was something you only did on Sundays when you had no commitments and could fully concentrate on reading.

But why did you remember putting the book on your nightstand and reading it all day yesterday at the same time? That wasn't possible. Your own memories were betraying you!

"Ow!" a sudden, sharp pain rattled in your brain as you tried to make sense of your thoughts. It made you clutch your head as you collapsed on the bed, pulling in your legs as the pain began to overwhelm you. Something was wrong! You had to call Barbatos; call for help!

But you couldn't move as images flashed before your eyes, images of you laughing with your boyfriend, reading, having your favorite food. Again and again and again. The image of you putting the book on your nightstand was the most off-putting but real one you saw. You had no idea what was going on, but it hurt terribly. You couldn't even open your eyes from the pain, so all you could do was pray.

Barbatos's name was the last thing falling from your lips as you were knocked out by your own thoughts—your own memories. Memories of many days having passed by, all of them the exact same. And they haunted you, even in your dreams, with no chance of waking up without the man who loved you to shake you awake. Telling you everything was okay and it was just a bad dream.

Stuck in your own nightmares, never knowing you had been for a long, long time.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"The how-many-Sunday is it today?"

"I'm sorry?" Barbatos looked up from the teacup he was pouring, only to find Diavolo watching him from beyond the rim of the report he was holding. The prince's eyes were sharp, almost unamused in how they scrutinized his butler.

"You heard me." Lowering the paper, Diavolo made space for the tea to be served, which Barbatos did without hesitation. "This new exchange student project is based on trust with the other races. How can I explain why I let my butler keep his personal human toy in a constant time loop, locked up forever in my castle, while I preach about harmony and equality? And besides, don't you think they need some time in the real sun for once? I heard it's bad for humans to be cooped up for so long. Longer than possible with their physic, at least."

"Young Master, you are mistaken. The human is my partner, we love each other. Nothing as sinister as you are hinting at is happening."

"Then why repeat the same day over and over? Do you really think I wouldn't know what the constant thrumming of magic in the room I have given you on your request to 'educate the staff' is? I'd wager to say we've known each other long enough to know about each other's dirty secrets, Barbatos."

Standing before him, Barbatos maintained his perfect posture and pristine look, paired with a smile on his face, as he watched his master sip from the tea he had prepared. "Very well, my lord. You are not entirely mistaken, although I must say..."

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Barbatos pretended to think about something before the smile returned to his lips. A smile said more than a thousand words, and although he only wanted you to see his, Barbatos had to keep up the front.

"If we are talking about preferential treatment, shouldn't you be the first one to give up on their highness, the consort that none of your subjects know about? I feel unfairly judged, considering my amusement loves and adores me, while yours plays the part but fears you. Don't you think we'd be better off keeping these two our own responsibility?"

Diavolo's glare was deafening as the room fell into silence. He'd expected the blowback, although his concern for Barbatos's darling was justified after his own experiences. Lowering the teacup, he sighed, giving a short nod of defeat. A wise ruler knew when to back down, and although the circumstances hadn't been ideal, his beloved was the reason he wanted to unite the races in the first place

"Very well, I won't nag you," Diavolo announced. "Just make sure they don't realize the time loop, or else you know the mess it will cause. We've been through this. Sometimes, it's better not to pretend the world is fine. If they truly love you as you say, they'll love you regardless, even when they realize that the love of a demon can be overwhelming."

"61685."

"Hm?"

"That's how many days they've loved me. I loved them. This time, I won't fail my duties, Young Master. At least, not how I have to you."

Barbatos bowed, as Diavolo couldn't help the sad smile flitting over his face, remembering the wonderful days when his darling had still adored him, never knowing they were stuck in a repeat.

"Then, be careful, Barbatos. One small mistake, and they'll realize nothing was ever real. You better not fail... for their sake."

Taking the advice of the experienced prince, Barbatos returned to his righteous posture, smiling as if the conversation had been petty small talk. The life of a demon was long—it was longer when they were alone. But now that he had you, he'd never have to suffer the same loneliness that had driven so many of his kin mad.

"I will, Young Master. Thank you for the advice."

He didn't pity Diavolo, who had long lost his heart to the most pitiful of creatures—a human who realized the true monstrosity beneath the prince's forced gentleness. But Barbatos wouldn't let it come to this a second time. Wouldn't make the same mistake Diavolo had, misplacing one item which managed to break the spell. He had been too careful, too precise this time.

He wouldn't lose you to such a small mistake, and even if he did...

He'd keep you forever, even if that meant breaking your soul into a thousand pieces until only his love could keep you together.

[wintergrofyuri]

hero tired and stressed and anxious. constantly comparing himself to the long quiet. wishing they were still there. worrying he wont be enough to keep them all together. having stress dreams about being alone in the long quiet (the place). the mirror, the princess. the narrator. isolating himself from the others.

having to be physically dragged away from his brooding. being all "im fine" and then passing the fuck out not even 2 minutes into flock cuddle time. not even waking up while they fight over who gets to be closest (thank god btw smitten wld never be able to live with the guilt).

adversary and stubborn inviting him to a tussle. politely declining but suggesting he just watch, since he can tell they just wanted an excuse to hang out. ending up in a tussle anyways when adversary throws stubborn into him. hero not at All keeping up with them but its ok bc the closeness, physical or otherwise, is more than enough for him.

burned and drowned grey inviting themselves in bc burned is forcing drowned to interact with the voices more and decided hero is a good place to start. hero being scrambling a bit bc he wasnt expecting visitors (and hes still a little wary around the ghosts) but trying to be a gracious host. burned being all "see how cute and nice and sweet he is" and hero getting all flustered. drowned says nothing but she Does squish his cheeks a little. burned calls it a success.

broken seeking him out for when he just wants company and comfort. hero claims his door is always open and hes never once refused anyone. but sometimes others are already there. paranoid or opportunist. sometimes contrarian. a vessel or two is not uncommon either; spectre and damsel are especially fond of him. broken always feels like hes intruding, though. cold, on the other hand, does not care. he will invite himself in any hour just for hero time. he has advised broken to do the same.

they love him. they adore him. they put him on a pedestal. they care for him and worry about him and stress him worse than anything. all pressure he puts on himself. to be perfect. to be what he thinks they want him to be. he does not know how deep and unconditional it all is. they dont want him to Be anything other than himself. bc what he Is is what they fawn over. he could be reciting the fucking yellow pages and theyd still hang off every word.

anyways this makes no sense and its all over the place and basically just a stream of consciousness but this has been in my drafts long enough and i need everyone to know that hero harem is still 🔛🔝💯💯🔥🔥🔥🔥💥💥🌈🦈✨

[alexanderwales]

The spell showed you how another person saw you.

It was expensive, but not so expensive that it didn't find its use. If you were in the burgher class it was expected that you would experience it a few times in your life. One of those was before marriage.

Cordelia went in with great trepidation. She was sure that Aldwin was right for her, but less sure that she was right for him.

And then, two hours later, once it was all over, they had to talk about it, in a way that Aldwin loved to talk about everything.

"There was a sweetness to him," said Aldwin. "But now I worry, only lightly, that you think I make more concessions than I really do. There was more romance to him, I suppose. Very lovey, which I suppose is good."

"Well, that's good," said Cordelia.

"Is something the matter?" asked Aldwin.

"No," said Cordelia. "You can go on."

"I need some time to stew," said Aldwin. "We talked a lot, but I do fear that we got tangled in tangents. I think we could have been good friends, actually, if he were real, though ..."

"Yes?" asked Cordelia.

"He was intelligent, but I knew more than him, which I suppose is an artifact of the spell. He didn't know all the things that I knew, he knew all the things that you knew, except you don't expect me to know much about textiles, so some of those things that you knew were barred from him, and that meant that he sat at the intersection of our domains of knowledge." Aldwin looked at the ceiling for a moment. "I do wonder if there's a way around that."

"Perhaps," said Cordelia.

Aldwin looked back down at her. "Is something the matter? You haven't said what your experience was like. Was she pleasant?" He grinned at her, a winning grin that had made her fall in love. It was heartbreaking.

"Aldwin, I'm ... not sure that I can do this," said Cordelia.

His grin turned to a frown. "Why not?" he asked. "I love you, you should have seen that."

"Aldwin, she was perfect," said Cordelia.

"You're perfect," said Aldwin. He laid his hand on hers.

"No, Aldwin, I'm not," said Cordelia. "And when I've heard you say that before, I've always thought that it was you being poetic, but I met her now, the me that lives in your mind, and she is perfect, she has none of my blemishes, none of my flaws, she's kind and gracious and intelligent and funny."

"My dear, you're all those things," said Aldwin. "That's why I'm marrying you."

"But I'm not those things," said Cordelia. "My version of you, did you think that he was handsome?"

"I suppose it didn't occur to me," said Aldwin. He looked to the ceiling again and considered that. "His hair was a bit curlier, and his nose somewhat broader, but no, I think he looked like me."

"The woman I saw was a goddess," said Cordelia. "I can't compare to her."

"You are her," said Aldwin.

"Won't you believe me when I tell you that I'm not?" asked Cordelia. "And if we follow through on the engagement, and you marry me, how can I help but worry that you'll figure that out one day and leave me?"

Aldwin frowned at her. "Is that what this is about?" he asked. "You think my love is fickle? It hadn't even occurred to me to ask my other whether he was wavering."

"I think you're brilliant and handsome," said Cordelia. "But I looked at her, spoke with her, and kept thinking to myself that I couldn't live up to her. I yelled at her and she calmly defused my anger. When I cried, she comforted me."

"It was really so bad?" asked Aldwin, raising his eyebrows. He had very expressive eyebrows, it was something that Cordelia had always found herself appreciating.

"I fear that you don't actually know me," said Cordelia. "You don't see the ugly, twisted, miserable creature that I am."

"Come now," said Aldwin. He seemed befuddled. "Perhaps I think more highly of you than you think of yourself, but I won't have you talking so poorly of my bride-to-be."

"It's how I felt, next to her," said Cordelia, looking down. She had tears in her eyes. It was undignified. Her other would have never.

Aldwin moved closer to her and tilted her chin up. She looked at him, blinking away her tears, which rolled down her face and made her lip salty. His eyes, that saw her so.

"My sweet, we have our entire lives to get to know each other better," said Aldwin. "I will love you no less if you falter, if you yell, if you cry, if you flop around and fail. If we do this again, ten years from now, I expect that I'll have the same rosy view of you, overly rosy, in your estimation. That's love. That's what it is."

But of course for her, that wasn't true at all. He'd said as much, he'd spoken to his other, he'd seen a more or less accurate portrayal of himself. Didn't he see that? Or would he realize it only later? She wasn't sure. Did she not love him? Is that what it meant? She thought that she loved him.

"I do love you," said Cordelia.

"Good, because we're getting married soon," said Aldwin. He patted her on the hand. "Come, let's dry those tears and find someplace to eat."

She let herself be led for the rest of the day, and returned to herself within half an hour, letting the shadow cast by the spell slide off her, joking with him, engaging him in his interests, putting on a smile that she didn't entirely feel.

But that night, as she lay in bed, the image of the goddess, the woman she was not and could not become, would not leave her mind.

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Magical Orthodontry...

(I should probably mention that my thoughts about plastic surgery/any kind of cosmetic enhancement are pretty much that as long as the person who has it done likes the result, it does not matter if anybody else thinks they needed it.

It’s their body, their choice and if they think they look prettier with a new nose/straighter teeth/fuller lips, good for them.

For myself, I love what braces did for my teeth and what one of those heatless curler things currently does for my hair lol)

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

It was bad. 

Eira shouldn’t have expected any differently. 

Maybe it had been the promise of mail-order catalogues that had made her think that maybe this time she wasn’t going to want to die halfway through her biannual week of torture…

But there was nothing the shadows could do, short of giving her pain potions that rendered her unconscious and plying her with soup. 

She let them. 

She was too weak to protest, in too much pain…feeling like a baby bird that needed them to slowly spoon broth in her mouth so that she only needed to swallow. 

But at least they were there. They didn’t leave her alone. Regardless of when she woke up…at what time of day or night…they were there. 

Ready with pain potions and armed with soup, and when she just needed something to get her mind off the pain, they told her stories. 

Little fables of Illyria and Prythian…children’s stories. 

Maybe one day she could tell the same stories to Nyx. 

It took 4 days… halfway through that week, when there was a knock at her door. 

Elain, the shadows whispered into her ear and she held back a groan. 

She didn’t want to deal with her sister. 

“Come in!” she called nonetheless and only then realised that she still had the key in the lock. The shadows swarmed out to turn it and then disappeared, scurrying underneath her desk. 

She forced herself to sit up, wondering how much of a mess she looked…probably like death warmed over twice, but to be completely honest…she wasn’t pretty on a good day, so what did it matter? 

Becoming Fae had somehow perfected the faces of her sisters. They still looked like themselves, but the cauldron had seemingly made them much more symmetrical, their limbs longer, their ears pointed…and for Elain, the cauldron…it had turned her from beautiful into otherworldly gorgeousness. 

For Eira…it had made her ears pointy. 

No, wait that wasn’t true…Her hair was seemingly even more unmanageable than it ever had been as a human…and her teeth…the less was said about that was better. 

She had already been self-conscious about them as a human. As a fae, surrounded by ridiculously attractive people every day, it was…something else entirely. 

“Good Morning,” Eira said quietly. Elain stared at her, surprise etched on her face. 

“Have you really spent the few days moping in your bed?” she asked, judgment clear in her voice. Eira wanted to bristle. Hadn’t Elain done the exact same thing when she had first been made? And Elain hadn’t had the excuse of a cycle for it. 

“Yes, Elain,” she said back quietly. “It’s….It’s that time of the year,” she mumbled, looking at everything but her sister. If Elain couldn’t even smell the thick cloying scent of blood that was clinging to Eira, she couldn’t help her. 

Elain just harrumphed.  “Look, I do realise that I may have been needlessly harsh,” she said, crossing her arms. Somehow managing to sound gracious even now.“But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere.” 

Eira blinked. Twice. 

Somebody put her heart into a vice and crushed it. 

Of all the things she had expected Elain to say…this wasn’t it. 

“Azriel is completely disinterested,” Elain continued. “And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.” 

“What does it matter to you?” Eira finally managed to bring out, her voice thankfully not shaking…And still….she sounded…weak. That’s what she sounded like. 

“I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that,” Elain said with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.”

Eira flinched at Elain’s words. She couldn’t help it. 

Even when she knew…she knew her sister was right. She knew that…

“You should just stop your pathetic attempts of flirting with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable,” Elain continued with a roll of her eyes. 

Pathetic attempts of flirting? What did Elain even mean? Her nervous ramblings? Her stolen glances? The way her heart skipped a beat when she got to see him? 

She had never asked him out…on a date or anything else…she had never even mentioned courting in his near vicinity. She had done nothing, said nothing to Azriel that made her feelings obvious to him. 

It was all just…

“There are plenty of fish in the sea…” Elain said with a sigh. “You’ll find somebody else one day,” Elain told her, sounding some mixture between pitying and bored, as she turned to go. “Do you want me to ask Feyre to send Madja?”

“No, thank you. I have pain potions,”  Eira whispered, and Elain turned on her heel, marching back out of her room. 

Eira listened to her sister leave…she buried her face in her pillows.  

“Would you lock the door, please?” She whispered. 

Nobody else. Just her.

Why shouldn’t Elain once again stab her in the same wound…why not?  Why…

And then…somehow it was like somebody flipped a switch. 

She turned angry. Angry at Elain, at her twin sister. Who hid behind this veil of sisterly worry and only used it to hurt Eira?

She was so…she was so…She was so angry. 

She never was angry.  But right now it was swelling beneath her skin and she wanted…she wanted… Not revenge. Not really. 

She made Azriel uncomfortable with what? With nervous ramblings and stolen glances? 

Fine. She would stop that. She would stop all of that. 

She wouldn’t even talk to him again, so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. She would ignore him. She would be icily polite and that was that. 

And she would find herself a husband and have all the babies she wanted and that would be that. She would find herself…somebody else. Somebody who wanted her.  Somebody for whom she wasn’t annoying…who she didn’t make uncomfortable.

Somebody for herself. 

Something for herself. 

She would fill her room with stupid trinkets she bought herself because nobody else would do it for her. She would buy pretty dresses that tried to mask that she wasn’t as pretty as her sisters. She would do all of that. 

And what her sisters thought about any of that…well, she didn’t fucking care. Not anymore. 

She wasn’t the only one angry. The shadows were hissing, spitting, swirling menacingly, nearly filling the whole room…and she wasn’t scared. That didn’t even cross her mind.

How dares she? The shadows hissed. She owed you an apology, not…not this.

Maybe for the first time in her life, Eira Archeron wanted to be utterly and completely selfish. 

Nobody was going to put her first. Not if she didn’t do it herself. 

“I’ll be buying myself something horribly expensive,” she finally said, her voice shaking. 

Do it, the shadows said, amusement bleeding into their voice, still angrily swirling, coming to wrap around her wrists. Buy whatever you want.

They dropped a catalogue next to her hands, and Eira reached out to take it with shaky hands. 

Whatever she wanted. 

The problem was only, she had no idea what she wanted. 

Maybe a new dress? Maybe some jewellery…like a necklace? Or a bracelet? 

A ring?

Like the rings her sisters had? Given to them by their mates, who loved them? 

Feyre’s Sapphire? The Ruby that encircled Nesta’s finger since her mating ceremony? 

Or maybe Elain’s ring…gold and diamond, looking like the rays of the sun, so fitting for the future wife of the heir to the Day Court. 

No. No jewellery. 

These godforsaken pearl earrings had been enough. 

Something Eira wanted. Something Eira needed. 

Eira could use a new pair of shoes. She already had brought her old ones to the cobbler thrice. Maybe…that wasn’t a ridiculous request after all…

She opened the catalogue, paging through it until she found the shoe section. She stared at the little pictures accompanying them. Humans hadn’t yet figured out how to do print in full colour, but the drawings on this page were brightly colourful. Clearly not a problem here in Prythian. 

She quickly slipped over the pages that had silk slippers and pretty heels on them. That wasn’t practical to run after Nyx with, right? Then she found a page with practical leather shoes… decisively female, a small heel…they weren’t that dissimilar to human fashion. 

She examined them closer. “Laces or Buckle? What do you think?” she asked the shadows. The ones with shoelaces were cheaper…but if she bought one with the buckles, she could also change them out, buy extra buckles…swap them with a crystal-embellished buckle or silver for gold…

All of that was possible. 

The ones with the buckles! The shadows said quickly. 

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” Eira commented and marked the page by folding down one corner as she turned the page. 

Definitely one contender. 

She couldn’t remember ever having done anything similar before. 

When she had still been human, as a child her mother had reigned over her wardrobe with an iron fist. They had never been allowed to pick out anything. 

And then later…after they had lost their fortune…well, picking out anything involved turning around every clipped copper coin. 

She had never been able to just…leisurely look at things and find the pretty and think about buying them…without even really looking at the price tag attached to them. 

Eira flipped back to the shoes, the tip of her finger tracing the writing…she had always been atrocious at reading. The letter tended to change their position, and it hadn’t changed as a Fae either. and she could never tell that to anybody, because the one time she had, her finger had been violently rapped by a wooden ruler and that had been that. 

If she just took her time…carefully…it worked. Just took her longer. She found the price attached to the shoes, knowing that even without the shadows, she could afford them. 

She had stashed away money in the chest at the foot of her bed after all. Not a lot but…enough for the shoes. 

Eira paged through more of the catalogue…oohing and awwing over dresses, where the shadows tried to talk her into buying herself a ballgown much to her amusement, though in the end, they agreed on a pretty blue-grey dress with billowing sleeves cuffed at her wrist…

Eira would never feel comfortable in the Night Court fashion of cropped tops and pants…she would much rather be covered up completely. But that dress…that looked quite pretty. 

She turned to the next page, and the next after that, trawling her way through skirts and cardigans and shirt waists…

And then Eira found the fabric section, biting her lip. Any time she had gone to a fabric shop in Velaris, it had been to buy fabric for a gift for her sisters. Never for herself. She didn’t need anything. 

That’s pretty, the shadows whispered in her ear, seemingly solidifying to point out a specific cotton print on that page. 

She wondered how they even saw anything. They didn’t have eyes. But then magic seemed to be the answer to nearly everything in Prythian. 

It was pretty. A ditsy little floral print…white ground, green leaves…It was pretty. So was a white cotton gauze with little dots…that was the one that she considered seriously. The price was good…she could use a new dress for her birthday…

She marked that page as well, flipping over to the next…and there it was. 

It was an advertisement that caught her eye, and she was nearly flicking to the next page as she caught the word teeth. 

“Faes can fix teeth?“ she asked weakly, as she read that advertisement, a promise about cosmetic procedures…like full lashes and eyebrows and…perfect teeth. 

Perfect teeth. 

“Could they fix mine?” she asked, desperation bleeding into her voice. 

Her teeth were…well, her greatest insecurity on a good day. They were…fine. It wasn’t painful at least. It was just that her two front teeth were too big for her face…which made her look like…

What’s wrong with your teeth? Do they hurt you? You’ll need a healer for that, the shadows said immediately, worriedly. 

“They are too big. Just the two front teeth. I look like a rabbit,”  she admitted in a whisper. Or a mole rat. Her mother had preferred the latter. 

Everything else could be fixed one way or another…but nothing could be fixed for her teeth. 

When she had been a child she had still hoped that she would grow into them, but that had never happened. 

And not even the cauldron had thought it would be prudent to fix them. Leaving her with them…still standing out starkly. 

They were the reason why she never smiled widely, why she made sure to talk with her lips pulled over them…why she didn’t wear bright lipstick. 

A few dozen things that she didn’t do because of them. 

You do not look like a rabbit, the shadows disagreed with a snort…and then after a moment:  Do they bother you?

They asked that like it was a near foreign thing…like…

“My mother used to…She used to tell me that…” She tried to bring the words over her lips but she choked on them. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t…

Once you feel better, you can go and have them changed to however you want to look, the shadows told her softly. Do they truly bother you that much?

“I know that I won’t ever be the beautiful one. But…if…If I could just feel…just feel pretty…just once,” she whispered, staring at that advertisement. 

If they could just fix her teeth… 

As soon as you feel better, the shadows promised her. But that’s not ridiculously expensive. Neither is one single pair of shoes, that dress….or a few yards of that fabric. Nearly teasing. 

But it was nice teasing. Sweet teasing. Teasing that did nothing but make a small smile appear on her face. 

“I could always buy more fabric,” she gave back, biting her lip and the shadows tugged at her fingers in response. 

But if magic could fix her teeth…maybe it could also fix her hair. 

A light brown mess on her head that never did what she wanted it to do… 

“Is there something for my hair as well?” she asked hesitantly, and the shadows flipped through her catalogue until it brought her to a page with hair care supplies. 

There are potions you can use…enchanted brushes too, they told her. You’ll want something for naturally curly hair.  

They didn’t need to tell Eira that twice. 

The morning she stopped bleeding she was out on the streets of Velaris as soon as the sun rose…dropping off the dresses she had hemmed, and picking up her newest commissions and then walking to that shop that promised her perfect teeth. 

It was a woman, a female, her age who looked up from the magazine she was reading, took one look at her, asked for a handful of gold coins…gave her a mirror in her hand and then drily said: “Just say stop when they have the size you want.”

And that was that. 

Eira could have wept with her gratitude. 

Her teeth looked perfect. Just like she had so often hoped they would look. 

The same could be said about her hair after one bath with her new potions and a run-through with her enchanted brush. 

Unmanageable frizzy hair that never looked like she wanted it to look? 

With magic no more. Thick, perfect, glossy curls fell over her shoulders in fat ringlets. 

To say that she was in a good mood after that…It was the understatement of a dozen centuries at least. 

Eira was ecstatic. 

She loved it. She felt…she felt so pretty. For once. 

“Good Morning!” she chirped as she entered the dining room. Not even the sight of Elain pouring over her wedding binders could put a dent in her happiness that morning. 

“Good Morning,” Elain responded, staring at her like she had gone mad but Eira didn’t care, as she poured herself a cup of tea, took a slice of toast, smeared jam all over it... 

“It’s a beautiful day outside, isn’t it?” she asked brightly, as she took a bite, chewed, swallowed…

Elain stared at her. 

“Eira…what did you do with your teeth?” her sister asked her, staring at her. 

“I got them fixed! Isn’t that great? Magic can do that!” she enthused. They were perfect! They looked just like she wanted them to look!

It was like thunder pulled over Elain’s expression. “You can’t be serious!” she snapped. “What were you thinking?!”

“That I got my teeth fixed?”  Eira gave back questioningly. What did it even matter to Elain? Couldn’t she just be happy? Eira was so fucking happy about her choice. 

“This doesn’t change things, Eira!” Elain said harshly. “It’s still never going to go anywhere!”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she was beaten to it. 

“What is never going to go anywhere?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway as she entered, Nyx on her hips, staring around the room…waving chubby little arms in Eira’s direction that made her smile at him brightly. 

“Eira’s little crush on Azriel,” Elain said evenly. “He’s completely disinterested. and she has gone and gotten her teeth fixed in some hare-brained attempt to…”

“What does it matter to you?” Eira interrupted her. This had nothing to do with…him. This had been for her. Because she was the one her teeth bothered, long before she had ever even met him.  “They aren’t your teeth.” 

Feyre stared at her and Eira smiled brightly, showing all her teeth…something she would have never done before. But now she did. 

“Your teeth were fine before,” Feyre told her, staring at her like she couldn’t quite believe that Eira had gone and done this.  

“My teeth were too big for my mouth,” Eira disagreed. And really, she didn’t understand why she even needed to defend herself on this. “The last time I checked I was allowed to do with my body whatever I wanted,” she murmured under her breath. 

And this…this was harmless. This was just fixing her teeth. It didn’t hurt anybody. Not her, not anybody else…

Feyre didn’t seem convinced. “How much money did you spend on this?” her sister asked her, a sharpness sinking into her voice and Eira crossed her arms. 

“Not a single coin that belongs to you or your mate,” she gave back, her voice cold. “I spend my money, money I earned, on something that I wanted.” 

She was allowed to want things. Whatever she wanted, the shadows had promised her and they had kept that promise. 

“Did you do this because of Azriel?” Feyre asked, softening slightly. “Eira, that’s not going to work.”

She knew that. 

“My whole life does not revolve around other people,” Eira said calmly, meeting her sister's gaze. “I wanted it.”

“He’s still not going to be interested in you,” Elain snorted. 

Once again. Hitting that one weak spot her sister had sussed out. 

People always thought that Elain was oh-so-sweet. What they forgot was that even the most beautiful, most fragrant rose had its thorns. 

She said nothing. Didn’t flinch away. Didn’t say anything. 

“It’s true,” Feyre said with a sigh, actually agreeing with Elain. “I have wanted to talk to you about that, Eira…” her sister said, visibly uncomfortable. “Could you at least try to get over him? It’s…it would be better for…this court.”

Of course, it would be. This court. 

Because that’s what mattered, right? That’s what mattered to the High Lady. 

That the court was functional. That the spymaster wasn’t uncomfortable…that her sister wasn’t having a ridiculous puppy crush on another member of this court.  

And what was Eira supposed to say to this? 

What was she supposed to say to that? 

Eira’s feelings didn’t really matter anyway. They were nothing but an inconvenience. 

“I am sorry,” she said, her voice quiet, staring at her hands so that she didn’t need to look at two of her sisters…so they wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I’ll make sure that my feelings won’t inconvenience anybody else ever again.”

“That’s not…” Feyre started, but Eira shook her head.

“I understand,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth, all her appetite gone, as she stood to go back to her room. 

[bunnivez]

Hello! I was wondering if the omegaverse event was still happening? And if so, might I possibly request Garofano?

Comment: ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა good gracious I need to finish these requests NOW….

જ⁀➴ … Event .. This event is omegaverse themed

“Lovely? Is everything alright? Oh…” You could feel Garofano’s presence behind the door. You hadn’t told her anything; it hit you so unexpectedly. Your heat arrived earlier than expected and you were not prepared for it.

It was too late though, your pheromones were everywhere, she probably already noticed with the way she has remained silent; you whimpered and heard the door creak open. She gazed at your sweaty, pathetic form, panting and whimpering. You looked up at her, everything was so hot. She looked at you with sympathy and slowly made her way to you, sitting on the edge of the bed and noticing the pile of her clothes.

“Oh, poor girl. Why didn’t you tell me, lovely? I detest seeing my baby suffer.” Your eyes slightly glistened with tears at her words, “I didn’t want to bother you.” You weakly replied.

Garofano frowned, “Bother me? Never my love, you are so precious and I want you to feel comfortable; not suffer,” She said and caressed your cheek which made you whimper and lean closer to her. Her touch is all you needed at the moment, you needed her closer, her hands roaming across your hot body, her scent, her kisses…

“Good girl, very good girl. So precious, sooo good ” She moaned as she thrusted deep inside you. She was so sweet with you, so caring, always satisfying your needs. Garofano leaned down to kiss your moaning face, a kiss on your cheek, nose, forehead, and a small one on your lips.

It felt so good you wanted to cry; beg even. Your foggy mind couldn’t process her words well, or her actions, only that it felt good the way her cock slid in and out of you.

“Oh my sweet baby, ah, it feel’s good doesn’t it? You like it when mommy fills your tight little hole hm? Haaa mmm, o-oh honey you feel so good.” Beautiful: her moans were so beautiful it could make you cum just like that. How pathetic you are for her, how needy you are for your alpha you truly have no shame.

You wrapped your legs around her waist, urging her to go deeper inside you, dump another load and claim you as hers over and over again. Your moans muffled against her soft breasts as hers grew slightly louder.

One more deep thrust is all it took for you to reach your peak for heaven knows what time. You felt so sore and sensitive like a raw nerve. Your climax triggered Garofano’s own, she pushed as deep as she could making you let out a strangled cry.

She didn’t even pull out once she was done, after all you need to be filled up properly. While you recovered from the countless orgasms, Garofano sweetly kissed the top of your head.

“You did good my sweet girl, very good. Tomorrow we can continue until your heat is all gone. For now we should rest. I love you, darling.”

⟢ 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐳 ᵎᵎ — do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt any of my works without my permission and or confirmation.

[sphireath-wisp]

#Backstage Pass!

Synopsis -> What an electrifying performance, it was worth all that money and time waiting. It was so good that you wanted an encore - in private, with less talking and more action.

Warnings -> Not proofread, all aged up, suggestive, language, Rin is objectively sweeter than Sae and Kaiser, mean Sae and Kaiser

Featuring -> Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi x F! Reader

"Oh, of course, you like MICHAEL KAISER, of all people," You force a sarcastic smirk, eyebrows creasing as if you eye her up and down as if you were judging her for some sort of malefaction. Honestly speaking, you should have foreseen this. You're the one who wants to go to the concert; you dragged your friend along so it wouldn't be a solo trip, but she's developed a liking for the blonde boy. He's the playboy type who goes on stage shirtless, flaunting the ink adorning his skin. Even when he makes the gracious decision to wear a solid-coloured tank top, it doesn't take away any attention from the prominent cerulean rose blooming on his throat. Her blase favouritism of Kaiser was nothing new.

Beneath the charisma - so lamentable, it was laudable, Kaiser had an ego that reached for the stars. But it was his solipsism that made him such a star, an unbreakable confidence that shined even brighter as he played. It's unusual for a bassist to get so much attention in a band, but everything was absurd about Kaiser in the first place. And the worst part is: he had the skill to back it up, every single shit-eating grin.

"An encore?" You watch Kaiser mouth out to the audience, and the crowd goes wild - especially the fans with the tips of their hair dyed a gaudy blue. Your friend shakes you back and forth, spilling a mix of 'thank yous' and 'ohmygosh' past her lips. His grin only grows wider as he hears the crowd cheer, almost expectantly, like the crowd was supposed to meet his expectations.

"You have a backstage pass, right? Do you think I could snatch his number?" Your friend nudges you, readily waiting for a supportive response. You hum - pretending to think so you wouldn't have to turn her down so flatly. "He's kissed fans before, so you'll need to try your luck, yeah?" You give your friend a comforting pat on the back, but you're the one who needs to reassure yourself, "Anyway, he's just eye candy, right?" She nods insouciantly: after all, it's not like they know each other.

When you see her soothing smile, for a split second, you wonder if you're being too critical of Kaiser. Your friend seems to enjoy the concert, maybe this has created common ground for you and her to bond. This smug bastard and his god-given charm may actually be a blessing in disguise.

"Don't you know how to swallow? You're drooling," You soon learn that you're a good judge of character when Kaiser forces his thumb into your mouth. You realize that your gut has always been right, and you can't decipher whether the uncomfortable churning in your stomach is due to butterflies or the sickening taste of nail polish on your tongue. Gosh, you feel like an idiot for doubting yourself and, most of all, doubting how much of a bastard he can be. Kaiser pulls you closer on his lap as if he couldn't get enough of your Carolina Herrera, and palms the swell of your ass when you scrape your teeth over his knuckle.

Your nails, freshly coated in a shade of rose that disgustingly reminds him more of that keyboardist than himself, scratch his forearm on their way up to his clavicle, leaving a trail of hot fire in their wake. Your raspberry-flushed skin matches his, especially when your fingers - more suited for loving than burning - wrap around the expanse of his neck and threaten to crush his airways. His fingers are out of your mouth, and his breath is already lost before anything has begun; you're starting to see the appeal in womanizers when his half-lidded eyes - glossy and lovestruck - stare with a shimmer that rivals stars.

"Didn't expect to find a beauty like you in the crowd, but you were giving me such a dirty look," His words are coated in honey, like flattering women is second nature for him. Your grip unconsciously loosens at his praise, and he uses his newfound leeway to capture your lips in his. He smells like Maison Margiela's Jazz Club, rum rubs off your sweat-slicked skin, and you swear you feel his teeth on your tongue when you press your chest against his.

His hands undo the clasp of your bra, and his tongue plays with the rest of your sanity. You swear to whoever's listening that you need another bottle of beer to wash this feeling of longing away because you're sure you're drunk on him. Kaiser's always been known to kiss his fans, but he kisses his haters even harder.

"SAE ITOSHI, apologize this instant!" Kaiser mimics their manager, arms crossed and voice in an ear-gratingly, squeaky high pitch. Almost condescendingly, he grabs the keyboardist by the hair and forces his gaze down - to the point where he's at a 90-degree bow. "How could you treat a young lady like that?!" He scoffs as Sae swats Kaiser's hand off of his hair, clicking his tongue, irritation crystalline clear.

"R-Really, it's okay...!" You try to get a word in, raising your hands awkwardly to try and ease the situation. Kaiser is dead set on humiliating Sae, though; he's planning to get a good laugh like the carefree narcissist he is. You have to visibly hold back your laughter, heaps of air gathering in your lungs, and it bubbles in your chest. Sae straightens himself out, clearing his throat as he looks down at you from on the stage. Hopping off the platform to get on your level, the only thing separating the both of you is the railing set up for crowd control (and the bodyguards), he lets out a deep sigh.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get your shirt wet and... I hope I didn't ruin the performance for you," He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and cranes his neck to look away, not out of shame, though. Rather, Sae isn't sure where he's supposed to look. Your see-through white shirt is drenched, and the lacy black bra you have under is clear as day (though it is partially your fault for wearing black under white - Sae's gone through enough girlfriends to know that women are aware of these things, but he'll admit his faults and apologize anyway.) To be frank, he finds the event a blessing in disguise; you're gorgeous in lace, but he wouldn't say that aloud lest he be considered a pervert.

It was already past midnight, and the concert had ended, fans still stuck around to snag a photo with their favourite member, though. Seeing you at the front of the crowd (and the obvious 'accident' with your shirt), Kaiser caught him staring and decided to be a bigmouth. Swooping in like the playboy he is, he acted all righteous when he heard what happened and well... Sae Itoshi has his head bowed like a little boy apologizing to their mother.

"I'll make it up for you, yeah?" he states firmly, and the air shifts when you agree oh-so-sweetly. Ladies first, he would say, to avoid staring at your chest, but you could feel eyes glued to the mound of your ass from under your miniskirt.

He's making it up to you, alright, with his knee between your thighs. Long, slender fingers slip up your skirt, and the lacy black panties you have under make his star-etched pupils morph into hearts right before your lovestruck eyes. He's patient, he's graceful, and he's deft with every kiss to the point it makes you feel hungry. Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae plays on the radio, and he cages you onto the cushioned seats.

Your legs wrap around his waist like poison ivy, and there's sweet venom every time your collar is stained royal purple. His tongue dances on your skin, and it's even more mind-numbing when his tongue traces yours. With a gasp, or a squeal, or maybe a mix of both, you wonder how long it's been and why he's torturing you like this, and your eagerness tastes like honey to Sae.

Sae swears he's never met a girl so noisy before, but hell if he cares. He wouldn't mind if he met you after every performance, or if he snuck you into the studio to have you right there and then whenever that bastard Kaiser opens his mouth. Bleary-eyed and half-lidded, he thinks you look cute like this and, damn, his eyes weren't lying when you looked good in lace. He almost feels bad. You swear your skin feels like it's on fire, and he's your fuel. You breathe him like oxygen and he's as starved as you, he never knew what air felt like before you.

Sae's fingers, the ones that used to be so rough from playing the guitar with his little brother, the ones that have grown long from years of playing the keyboard, slip under the waistband of your lacy panties. He whispers apologies that he doesn't mean, and he swears to buy you another set as soon as possible. You don't care about his apology, you knew he was a half-hearted bastard the moment he blatantly ogled at you earlier. What's more important is the new set and this perverted idiot better give you another stress-relieving night for the trouble he's put you through! You know Sae Itoshi always keeps his promises.

RIN ITOSHI, the exceptional newbie in the band. Introduced as the 2nd electric guitarist, he hid his prior connections with Sae Itoshi to avoid accusations of being a mere product of nepotism. People had already acknowledged his skills by the time the truth spread. He didn't really catch your eye in terms of personality. He was as reclusive as his older brother but more vocal with his thoughts. If his brother had an "enigmatic" appeal to him, he would be "unapproachable".

"He's cute, isn't he?" Your friend playfully hums by the shell of your ear, and you shrug indifferently in response. Your gaze trawls through his black leather jacket, which looks like it was inherited from someone older, with its sleeves folded to the middle of his forearms. His stringed necklace dangles down to his electric guitar when he slouches, calloused fingers hovering over the strings. "Pretty good for someone new..." Your friend continues, her own eyes the furthest thing from chaste. Yet, instead of chiding her, you'll be the one apologizing sooner or later - you couldn't catch anything she said when Rin happened to glance up in your direction, no less. Coincidence or not, his tongue peeks out of his mouth, the pink muscle running over his lips.

Slim teal eyes narrow at you sharply when you don't look away immediately. You stare back as if you haven't sensed his annoyance and sheer arrogance, and you're utterly shameless about it too. As if mocking the guitarist, you stick your tongue out before openly running it over the canvas of your teeth.

You pass it off as flirting with no goal in mind, especially when his face scrunches up in belying disgust. It was nothing more than passive teasing, the kind of thing you'll dream about when the boys you know act stupid and the tension you'll crave when life gets dull. It's something you'll romanticize for the rest of your life until Rin Itoshi is muddled in a scandal, and you can't see anything attractive in those piercing eyes.

Well, you were half-right.

"Isn't your friend looking for you?" he half-mocks with a tone that makes you want to slap him stupid until the apple of his cheeks is as swollen as your cherry red lips. His mouth is as dirty as it tastes, and he doesn't know how to treat a woman at all. There's nothing remotely sweet about Rin, but the naivety blinding him - convincing him silently that he doesn't want this as bad as you do - is caramel on your tongue.

He's too young and dumb, your voice of reason echoes in the expanse of your skull, and you're sure he hasn't locked the door, but he's already kissed you silly. The black dressing room table feels a little shaky whenever his tongue slips into your mouth, or perhaps your whole world is shaking because of him. Your back crams against the mirror, and the warmth of the LED strips make your brain fuzzy. Eagerness and embarrassment conflict when he holds your waist, rough fingertips shyly slipping under the hem of your shirt and tapping against your skin as if asking for permission. His hesitation is evident when you pull away and the thought of upsetting you strangely eats him whole.

Your chest heaves up and down, off-beat from the temperamental percussion of your heart. "You're asking that now?" you manage out whilst guiding his curious hands further under your shirt, "Sweetheart, don't act like you're worried someone will catch us." Catching your breath, you yearn to lose it again as you lean forward for another round, the white quartz of his stringed necklace cold against your skin once he flips your shirt up.

You can't tell if the lights are flickering or if the flash of a camera has caught you so vulnerable, like putty and moulded into Rin's embrace. But, you don't care, and Rin seems to care even less with the way he whispers sticky sugar promises to buy you another Dior lip gloss and a new bag to boot. It'll be his first scandal if the paparazzi have caught the both of you, but you'll celebrate it with a bottle of champagne in the walls of his apartment, for sure.

Taglist: @dewwberry, @mikmwehehe