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satorena · 6 months

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 !?

featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, s. ryomen

warnings. i warn them next to each character name so that’s all covered ! very little plot, in fact the need of piercings isn’t even necessary but wtv :P oh and the reader’s referred to girly pet names and has a vagina.

rena’s note. i’m in due of new piercings i dunno ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ ☆

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔—tongue piercing, blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating

“show it off for me pretty baby—yeahh, just like that,”

you complied to his order, slipping out his dick from your hallowed cheeks, every inch of his shaft coated in your saliva. you gasped as your throat was rid of its fullness, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

a string of spit connected from your bottom lip to his rosy tip, blushing an angry red as he leaked salty pre come. your wrist twists as your hands work up and down his dick, the messiness of the situation serving useful as lube.

“c’mon baby—fuck, show me your pretty jewelry, hm?” gojo begs, hand cupping your stained cheek, thumb brushing over your moist skin.

you nod your head, before sticking your tongue out through swollen lips, the silver ball pierced into the muscle now in sight. you lower your head, tongue still lolled out as you grab the base of his cock and slap his tip at it a few times.

you watch gojo unravel at the sight, the coolness of your jewelry sending him to mush. “shittt, fuck yeah baby, need your pretty mouth back on it—suck me off like the good girl you are, hah,” you feel his hand trail from your cheek to the back of your neck, urging you forward back onto his dick.

you opt to tease him, leaning forward and encircling his cock with your tongue, dragging the jewelry all over his sensitive skin, your free hand slowly jerking off inches you weren’t reaching yet.

“mmhm,” you moan at the taste, lifting your gaze to watch the man before you. he’s wincing through gritted teeth, his grip from your nape to your hair in a tight hold, hips twitching up in attempt to get more attention on his throbbing length.

“quit teasin’ me, baby,” gojo groans, hips now raised up to full extent and the clench of your throat restricting around his cock has him moaning pathetically.

tears cloud your vision as his tip reaches the back of your throat, but you work your way up and down his dick, bobbing your head in motions you knew drove him to insanity. you gripped his thighs as support, gagging sounds filling the bedroom mixed in with the melody of gojo’s whines and pleas.

the coolness of your tongue piercing dragging up his veins, in contrast to the warmth of your velvety mouth, plump lips latching at his cock tightly drove him to spiral, his gut coiling and limbs liquifying as he was washed over with pure euphoria.

his hold on your hair tightened and the sting at your scalp had you moaning around his dick, amplifying his pleasure tenfolds. “shit baby—always suckin’ me off so well, fuck, ‘s like you were made to suck dick—my dick—your mouth feels’good, losin’ my mind here—fuckkk!”

your jaw was at its wit’s end, aching as it split open to welcome gojo’s dick with ease. your eyes trailed down as your spit dribbled from his tip to his ballsack, before coming back up to stare at him with an innocent gaze, one that would surely want to fuck your throat on his own accord.

seemed you knew him too well, as he suddenly sits up from the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, pushing you back to align you perfectly with his dick. his dick slips out your mouth and you cough, gasping for air from the sudden puncture and removal in such a short period of time.

“need to fuck your throat—see you beggin’ for it, with those slutty fuckin’ eyes,” his cerulean eyes darken with lust, a feral look blown in his pupil and you brace yourself for the worst. “don’t you worry—i’ll give you exactly what you want. say ahh~”

still stuck on gasping for air, your jaw already slackened and there shimmers your pretty jewelry—as he rams his dick back into your throat, reaching as far until your body jerks in a deep gag. he’s got one firm hand griping your hair in a ponytail while the other keeps you in place at your nape.

his hips thrust wildly into your mouth, excessive sounds of shlurp! filling the room as your throat restricts around his length, pool of saliva slipping past your lips and staining your thighs.

“atta girl—fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum down your throat—have you gaggin’ and chokin’ on my nut—y’love this nasty shit dontcha—shit!—y’love it when i use you like the cumdump you are, yeah? mmh,”

mouth too full to answer, you allow the roll of your eyes to the back of your head and your muffled moans to do the talking for you. you’d grown painfully wet the entire seance, loving whenever he’d go feral on you with no restraint.

you hallowed your cheeks as his tip rocked back and forth against your tongue piercing, and judging by the pinch in his brows and the contracting of his abdomen muscles, you knew he would be cumming.

“that’s the fuckin’ spirit pretty girl—you better swallow every last drop—yeah, swallow that shit, hnng, milk me for what i’m worth—shit y/n!”

his final act, pushing your head all the way down—till your nose reaches to snowy white pubes, your loudest gag yet as he empties himself down your throat. he keeps you locked in place and your throat tightens around his length, your fingernails digging into his thigh muscles.

when his dick twitches in your mouth uncontrollably, he pulls you off, watching as you cough violently, nasty strings of fluids connecting from your mouth’s entrance to his dick, just how he loved it—sloppy head.

“fuckkk,” he sighs dreamily, grabbing his own cock and tapping the excess drops against your jewelry, now stained white with his cum. your eyes are teary and doed, and he swears you’ve never looked prettier.

“we gotta do that shit again.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈—clit piercing, belly bulging, creampie, overstimulation

“you went and got this slutty piercing without me? let another man spread your legs and play with yer pussy and felt no sympathy for toji’s feelings?”

said man held his dick tight in his fist, aligning it with your pussy, right above where your freshly pierced clit was, and rubbed his tip all over your bundle of nerves.

you mewled and cried, your orgasm having just hit you from his mouth alone and he overstimulated you, punishing you for having let another man touch you. your back arched off the mattress and you felt your jaw slacken, mouth into an ‘o’ shape as toji abused your worn out clit.

“n-no, toji please—need your dick inside, mmh, need to feel you inside daddy!” you babble aimlessly, hand sneaking in between your thighs to reach at his cock, stroking it up and down, begging to have it reach places inside you knew would have you seeing stars.

“and just why should i give you what you want?” toji teases you, his free hand swiping your hand away. “my feelings are hurt doll, what tells you you deserve to cum on my dick, hm?”

you shake your head, desperation washing over you as you failed to voice out that not only had it been a girl that pierced, but he was fully aware you were going to get this piercing. toji was messing with you to make you beg, and you would be damned to not reach that peak pleasure over a matter of pride.

“‘m sorry daddy—wasn’t thinking, but i won’t do it again, i swear!” you plead, toes curling as the stimulation on your clit jewelry began heating up pleasure in your gut. you felt yourself lose your composure, “please toji—wanna be fucked like your slut! need to be taught a lesson, was very bad—teach me what happens to disobedient sluts—fuuckkk!”

you cut yourself off as one of your legs are thrown over his broad shoulders and the other wraps around his waist. toji bottoms out inside, leaving you no room to breathe or prepare yourself, before lifting his hips up and roughly slamming them into yours.

your body jerks up to his powerful thrusts, your head pushing up into the headboard as pleasure washes over your limp limbs. you feel his dick stretch your cunt deliciously, the drag of his dick in and out your silky folds sending your mind in a frenzy.

“you wanna be fucked like a slut? i’ll fuck you like a goddamn slut—no cummin till i finish first, that oughta teach ya a fuckin’ lesson,” toji grins beastly, dick all in your guts as he pistons his hips wildly. your breast jiggle to each rough thrusts as you grope on them, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

letting his eyes trail down, he fixates on the way the grinding of his dick at your pussy expands your lower stoa h, the shape of his cock visibly showing through your stomach. he feels an animalistic sense filter through him as your jewelry shimmers back at him, almost insultingly.

he sends a glob of spit at your pussy, landing perfectly at your clit before thumbing at it. you whine out his name, the grip on your breast tightening as your toes curl in his peripheral.

“greedy fuckin’ cunt—suckin’ me in, shit, love it when i dick you down like a whore, ain’t that right mama?” you feel his balls slap at your pussy, thrusts relentless as they bruise and bully at your cervix. you feel his tip kissing your womb and you swear you start seeing double.

“love it daddy,” you nod your head, feeling so full you felt him everywhere. your pussy latched onto his dick greedily, tears at your lash line as you hoped your grip would have him nutting quickly—you already felt your orgasm approaching but he was in a mood tonight.

the sound of your skin clapping one against another played as background noise, your wetness splurting as toji dicked you down, occasional teeth biting at your plush skin. too many different stimulations—from your g-spot being attacked relentlessly to your puffy clit being rubbed on simultaneously—had your tongue loll out in white blinding pleasure.

suddenly grabbing ahold of both your legs, toji pushes the back of your thighs towards your chest, to which you grab onto shakily, “keep em’ spread—fuck up and ‘m leaving you hanging dry, got it?”

you nod your head and when he holds onto the headboard, your voice comes out brokenly as you beg for more and more, his stroke game increasing tenfolds. he fucks into you like he’s got something to prove, occasionally grinding at specific angles that have your pierced clit rubbing at his pubic area.

his brows are cinched, matted hair sticking to his forehead, “shit—gonna cum, have my way with my pussy, mark it dirty and white with my kids. nobody will ever come this close to makin’ you feel this good, you hear me?”

truth be told, you hardly heard him, focusing instead of how your right leg shook excessively whenever he angled his hips at that angle that toyed at your spongey walls deliciously.

“best fuckin’ pussy in the world—all jewelled and pretty for daddy, shit, gonna breed it so good, have you leakin’ and swollen, full of me—y’gonna let me fuck you full, yeah?”

he goes unanswered when instead you cream on his dick, back arching as the dam breaks. you broke his rule, you’re both aware, but he cums with you—deep groan erupting from his chest as he flows his semen deep inside your womb, pulling out of your warm cave to stroke himself off atop your pierced clit, painting your pussy white of him.

“shit—what a slutty cunt, damn near snatched my soul.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔—dermal piercing, backshots, marijuana comsumption

“uhn uhn—don’t you stop princess, remember what i told you?”

you did in fact remember, but your arms ached as you griped tightly onto your sheets, back arched perfectly as you pushed your ass back to meet his hips.

suguru landed a firm blow to your ass, before raising his other hand to his lips, inhaling the blunt deeply before exhaling with a relaxed sigh, at the buzz that ran course in his body intertwining with your pussy enveloping his dick from top to bottom.

your ass recoiled and bounced on his pelvic area mesmerizingly, the two jewels that sat pierced in your lower back sending geto in a frenzy he knew he needed sated before he lost his composure.

the base of his dick was coated with your essence, a creamy pearly ring of slick encircling his shaft as you slide back and forth on his girth. you whined and complained, begging him to have pity on you, but he was satisfied with his things were going.

“can’t handle takin’ charge, even for a little bit? that’s mean baby, i wanna relax too,” he dragged his hand all over the smoothness of your ass, admiring your flesh as it bounced back, speaking to him in a language he felt too familiar with.

“suguru—baby please,” you beg him, tilting your head back and giving him doe eyes, never letting up on your chase to your orgasm. as quick as you attempted to set a pace, it could never match up to the way he fucked you.

the butt of his blunt began dying in his hand with how long he stared at you with red eyes. at the end of the day, you were his girl and whatever you wanted from him you got. he shakes the ash off his blunt before setting it in between his lips, freeing his hands so they can hold at your waist.

“my spoiled princess,” suguru sighs, a faint smile on his lips as he finally allows you the pleasure you searched for, hips pushing up to meet halfway to your bounce.

you moaned at how deep he was, from a single thrust, and you feel yourself melt into your mattress. your skin tacky from sweat, cheeks flushed from the sativa weed coursing through your system, you felt yourself float to cloud nine as your pussy got fucked at a sensual and deep pace.

your pussy fit his cock snuggly, swallowing him greedily and entirely, while he blew out your back. your arms stretched forward and gripped your sheets, releasing your feelings into the tightening of your fists.

toes curling in ultimate pleasure, you feel your soul leaving your body as geto lifts a leg up to the bed and angles his hips. with ease, he finds your golden spot and does you the pleasure of attacking that same area, enthralled by the tremors of your body whenever he pulls out almost entirely just to slam himself back in.

“sugu—yes, oh yes baby—so fuckin’ deep!” you moan, slipping your hand between your thighs to reach at his balls, and you cup them to massage the pair. you hear him whimper behind you, and suddenly the grip on your waist tightens.

geto throws his head back, loose hairs from his messy bun framing his hairline gracefully, “fuckin’ hell pretty, y’got the best pussy in the world—so warm and tight, shit, tryna make cum quick, aren’t ya?”

you whimper at his words, lifting up to your elbows to turn around and catch his gaze once more. backshots were a personal favorite for him ever since you’d gotten your dermals, but you both admittedly missed seeing each other’s facial expressions during sex.

geto spots your siren eyed stare, low lidded from the weed finally settling, and he drags another hit of his blunt into his lungs. he inhales deeply, before killing the blunt on his ash tray, and leans forward to plant his lips onto yours, exhaling the smoke when you part your lips.

the push forward shifts your position, and you exhale the cloud of smoke shakily. with a soft hum, geto kisses the crown of your sweaty head, his tone gentle “good girl.”

now bent over your back, his strokes turn into grinding, his dick reaching even deeper inside as it massages into areas you’d never reach on your own. your arms tremble as your head hangs low, tears building in your lash line from the pleasure built up.

the intimacy of the newfound position mixed with geto’s heavy breathing at your ears, praising you and your pussy for taking him in so well, the substance abuse clouding your senses, the knot in your stomach snaps and you flood the sheets, squirting your liquids all over yourself, him and your bed.

“thereeee we go,” geto encourages you, hips never letting up as they drag you through the highs of euphoria. he keeps fucking into you, eyes narrowed in on the way your jaw slackened and your eyes shut close, pussy pulsating around his cock desperately.

“this dick is all yours baby, cream on it and mark it yours—fuck, keep doin’ that shit, wanna be soaked in your juices—hah, yeah that’s it—there we fuckin’ go.”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍—nipple piercings, cowgirl riding, degradation, impact play, nipple play

“you’re boring me brat—pick up the pace and quit being lazy cause i ain’t fuckin’ you,”

sukuna rested his head against his hand in an attempt to be perceived as annoyance, all four eyes casted up to your fucked out face. your glossy eyes crossed to the centre of your face as your jaw fell and had your tongue lolled out your mouth.

“is it too much for you?” sukuna mocked, barking a laugh as one of his arms reach for your derrière, roughly slapping the globe, before cupping and jiggling the flesh in his big hand.

you hear words but they hardly register as you bounce up and down his unreasonably big dick. you swear you feel him past your intestines and somewhere near your stomach, your pussy clenching tightly around him as you attempt to fuck yourself for the both of you.

your hands appear small as they hold onto his broad shoulders for stability, your head limp and jerking with each bounce on his lap.

sukuna smirks, two more of his arms coming up to pinch at both of your tits, focusing his attention on the stiff buds that pierced with gold jewelry. he tweaks at the bud, pinches and twists painfully, “i assumed a grown girl able to get her nipples pierced like a filthy whore would also be able to take my dick, but i guess i was wrong.”

you wish you could counter and disagree with his statement, prove him wrong and ride him into a whole new dimension that he’d grip onto the arms of his seat and throw his head back as he emptied loads of his semen inside your tight cunt. unfortunately for you, your thighs ached from over exhaustion as your tits were being fondled aggressively and if his fourth arm continued to thumb at your clit, you’d be cumming yet again on his dick while leaving him high and dry.

“sh—shut the fuck up,” you slur out, eyes narrowing as you try to glare at him, but they shut completely when his hand roughly slaps your cheek, head jerking to the side. shamefully, you let out a moan at the impact, the stinging feeling having your clamp tightly on his cock.

“watch your fuckin’ tone,” sukuna warns you, fingers gripping your jaw as he forces your head down to look at him. your watch him with angry eyes, and it undoubtedly turns him on when you grind your hips back and forth, almost in retaliation.

“or what?” you challenge him back, despite knowing there really wasn’t much in your favour as of now. you enjoyed being bratty because sukuna always handled your attitude correctly.

“or i’ll strap you to this seat and leave your gapin’ pussy untouched, beggin’ to cum while i have you watch me fuck somebody else. you want that?” he growls, eyes boring into yours and you know he’s being serious. you swallow your pride and roll your eyes but nod in understanding, and so he leans back into his seat. “now keep at it—still haven’t came close to cumming, selfish girl.”

in the midst of it all, you ride and hop and bounce on his monstrous cock, feeling your body being split open at the intrusion of his dick penetrating areas you were certain were unhealthy. the pain felt too pleasurable to stop, and so you greedily fucked yourself to chase another orgasm.

leaned back in his throne, he watches you in faux unimpress, lips tugging into a cocky smirk whenever he’d pull at your nipples in a way that had your body jolting. he’d shove his fingers down your throat, have your saliva lube his digits and pull them out to slap and roughly play with your tender tits.

your back arches into his chest, and you feel his tongue peek through his stomach that stretches out to lick at your erogenous zone near your navel. your oversensitive nipples begin to feel numb, and you eagerly grab ahold of the back of sukuna’s head to pull him down closer to your chest.

what could’ve gotten you in deep trouble actually turned out for the better, as sukuna pops one of your nipples in his mouth, wet tongue circling the jewelry and moaning uncharacteristically at the taste. his other arm never ceases to fail to lack attention at your other boob.

“the only impressive thing about you is that rack of yours. all plump and pretty—shit, i hate to admit it but fuckin’ hell—you have no idea how turned on i’m getting from ‘em.”

it’s still fraudkuna 4 life btw.

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nova-amor · 8 months

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𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ◞

𝐜𝐰 — 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 [𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠], 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲 & 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 [𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

red oak wood digs into your abdomen as you lay flat across the surface of your desk. a rough hand digs into your scalp, forcing your heated cheek against the cool surface as the clattering sound of an undoing belt fills the silent void. there’s a heavy weight of tension lingering in the classroom’s air— the sounds of your blood rushing filling your ears, your muscles tensed and body tingling in anticipation.

your pleated midi skirt is bundled up to your waist, white blouse unbuttoned and bra disgarded from the copious kisses and fondling toji had done before bending you over your desk. pens and papers were casted aside, littering the classroom floor— a mess you definitely didn’t mind cleaning up after. this hadn’t been the first time you had fucked a student’s dad and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“look at you,” toji cooes into your ear from behind, his voice dropping an octave— thick, gravely, and lust-ridden. the accompanying metallic hiss of an undoing zipper makes your cunt throb with want, your body needy and begging to be filled. “dirty slut, yer fuckin’ pussy’s droolin everywhere, makin’ such a mess and we haven’t even gotten started yet.”

“please, mr. fushiguro,” you’re desperate. your hips bucking at the sensation of his cock’s head poking at your wet folds, smearing your arousal around with each glide and slide between. “don’t tease me— need ya so bad, please.”

toji tsks, rolling his eyes as his cock catches the hood of your clit. “i’ll do whatever the hell i want,” a harsh smack lands on your ass cheek, flesh stinging from the blow, your body attempting to jolt forward to evade another hit. “and what i want is for you to beg; beg me to fuck you, sweetness, c’mon.”

another smack echoes through the room, a whimper slipping from your lips from how hard he was spanking you. you want to melt into a puddle, knees growing weaker as the tip of his cock pushes into your sopping cunt. your walls clench hard around the cock’s head, clinging desperately to the single inch he was providing you with.

“mr.fushiguro, please,” you sound so pathetic, so weak— your voice high-pitched and needy. without even looking behind you, you knew that a shit-eating smirk had formed on toji’s pink lips, his ego inflating at the sound of your begging. “please, need your cock so bad— need t’ be stuffed with your cock— just wanna be your little cocksleeve, want you to fuck me like i’mma fleshlight— pleasepleaseplease—”

“good girl,” toji hums in delight, releasing his grip on the back of your head to hold your hips in place. “sounds so pretty when ya beg. whatever you want, baby, i’ll give t’ ya.”

his cock slides deep into you— your tight walls straining to stretch around his thick girth, your eyes crossing and mind melting into mush from how full you are. he doesn’t waste a second to start rutting into you, his thrusts short and fast— balls bouncing against your clit and the ridges of his cock dragging against your gummy walls. you can’t restrain the moans that bubble in your throat, the sounds of skin slapping against one another and your combined moans and groans filling the classroom.

“fuck— pussy’s too fuckin’ good, moanin’ like a whore f’me, baby.” toji grunts, nails digging deep into your hips. “that’s what you are, right? a dirty whore who likes fuckin’ her students’ dads? good for nothing but screwing half of the pta?”

you’re a blubbering mess, tongue-tied and mind too far gone to string words along. drool seeps from the corner of your mouth, brows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut. a hand snakes its way around your throat, lifting your head up and arching your back deeper, forcing you to make eye contact with the man behind you.

“i asked you a fuckin’ question: you like being a slutty little teacher?” there’s a hint of possession in his voice. his green eyes boring into your’s, eyes narrowing as he grips your neck a bit tighter. “like it when your students’ daddy’s use you?”

“yesyesyes— love bein’ a slut, love bein’ used, f-fucckkk,” you blabber, the flat of your palms pressing against your desk to support yourself. the angle allows toji’s cock to perfectly bully your g-spot, your vision growing blurry as the familiar tight knot forms at the pit of your stomach. you’re so close, it’s almost pain. “that’s what i’m here for, t’ be the school’s slutty teacher— fucckk, toji— you feel so fuckin’ good...”

“yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this?” he taunts, his other hand finding the back of your knee, forcing it to prop up on the desk. the angle is deeper, his thrusts getting faster. “can feel you’re about t’ cum, slutty pussy’s clench around me like a damn vice.”

“make me cum, please— wanna cum all over yer cock, wanna cream all over yer big cock— pleaseee—” your begging makes toji chuckle, his cock jackhammering into your g-spot.

“fuck, if i had known you were this much of a slut, i would’ve fucked you so much earlier,” he taunts, leaning in closer to you. “cum for me. be a filthy little cockwhore and cum on my cock.”

your orgasm hits you like a freight train, toji laughing at the sight of tears spilling down your cheeks as your cries fill the classroom. you’re so thankful there’s no one else around to hear your screaming, the rest of the school’s staff having left hours ago. your cries and expression earn a condescending “thatagirl” from toji, your cunt throbbing around him so hard that he struggles to keep his cock buried deep inside you.

toji then turns you around, manhandling you to lay your back flat down on the desk, his hands cupping the underside of your thighs. he squishes your legs up to your chest, knees tucked and pussy spread wide open— glistening with the thick slick of your arousal under the fluorescent lights of the classroom. the cool air makes your clit twitch, your throat dried out from your previous wails of pleasure.

“stick that tongue out, pretty girl,” toji forces you into a mating press, leaning over you completely and blocking the light above. you obediently stick your tongue out, a fat glob of spit landing on your tongue as he slides his cock back into you. “atta girl, such a perfect little thing.” he says as you gulp down his spit.

he ruts deep into you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. your tongue glides against his, allowing him to explore every crevice and space of your mouth as he pounds into you. you breathe through your nose, both of you unable to pull away from one another as he rearranges your insides to his liking.

“love this fuckin’ pussy— g’na stuff ya full of my cum, want ya barely able t’ walk out of here with my cum drippin’ down your thighs.” he murmurs inbetween the kiss, his teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging hard before letting go. you moan at the pain, your walls clenching hard again around him. he pulls away just enough to let you lick at his scar, the tip of your tongue gliding against the smooth skin.

“you’re my girl now, sweetness.” he cements the title into both your mind and your pussy, imprinting every vein and curve of his cock into the walls of your cunt. “only i can use this slutty little pussy from now on, got that?”

“holy shit— yess yesss,” you nod your head pathetically, your head bobbing along in complete agreement. your body bounces across the surface of your desk, barely able to keep up with the brutality of toji’s hips snapping into you. “all yer’s— no one else’s— fuucckk— i promise,”

“please fill me up, toji— pump me full with yer cum— please need it so bad—” with your pleads, toji only fucks you faster. his thrusts growing sloppier, his cock twitching and pulsating against the tight walls of your sloppy cunt.

with a sharp hiss, toji buries his cock deep inside of you— spilling his seed up against your cervix and his hips stutter from the intensity of his release. his grip on the back of your knees tighten momentarily, your cunt milking him and draining his balls for every drop of cum.

“fuck,” you giggle, a delirious smile tugging at your lips as toji retracts his cock from inside of you. his cum spills out, dense semi-translucent droplets staining your desk, your puffy folds, and inner thighs. “that was amazing.”

toji presses a sloppy kiss to your damp forehead, dropping your knees before gathering himself up to stuff his cock back into the restraints of his underwear and his pants. his vibrant eyes glimmer with a combination of possession and amusement, watching attentively as you clean yourself up with a few kleenex tissues before readjusting your outfit. he helps you to pick up the items littering the floor that he had knocked off your desk, giving you a proper moment to breathe and relax since the bones in your legs had turned to gelatin.

“what were we talking before?” you try to recall as you glance over the notes you had made to discuss with toji. the whole purpose of his visit was to discuss something related to his son, megumi, but you hadn’t the faintest clue where you had left off before getting derailed.

“his grades,” toji cups your cheek, his large hand engulfing the entirety of the side of your face. his thumb runs across your bottom lip, his finger tip dipping into your mouth. you suckle lightly, his eyes darkening once again as your tongue swirls around his thick finger, eagerly welcoming it. “somethin’ about his grades.”

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seattlesellie · 6 months

Note

i’m sorry but can we PLEASE talk about thigh riding🙏 it’s so underrated

mhmmmm :(( especially if it goes from sloppy makeout sesh to desperately rutting on ellie’s thigh & especially if she hasn’t even seen you go that desperate for her yet, because let’s say it’s only been a week of you dating or messing around.

an: i don’t know why this came out longish i swear its pure horny. btw it’s gamer!ellie 🎮🎀💗

can see this whole thing starting from a stare at her practiced fingers twitching and toying with her ps controller. safe to say it’d usually be a bit tedious to simply be an observer of someone playing a video game… not with ellie though, definitely not with ellie. definitely not with the way she cusses sharply under her breath, the way her palm goes to rest against your bare thigh as she switches up her in game gear, the way that cheeky tongue pokes out of her lips in concentration… you’d be distracted to say the least, nodding dumbly as she notes “y’see how i just did that babe?”

and just because you find it hard to concentrate and ignore the thick tension, filling the room with its obnoxious buzz — doesn’t mean she has it any easier, by no means, she can just mask it better… ish. your doe eyed stares, the way you whine silently as she loses, rest your head on her firm shoulder with a cheerful “yay ellie” as she wins… keep staring at her fingers (for some reason she might or might not pick up on, you do it a lot) — you render her a blushing taut mess, render her palms sweaty and slippery on the round plasticky ball of her controller.

however she masks it, and you don’t — and now you’re staring with those sparkly eyes, and the figures on the screen begin to mush together into one giant, pixelated orb. the corner of ellie’s mouth rises up to an involuntary smirk (that asshole), and she loosens her grip on the red controller. “need something? jheez, you’re staring” murmurs ellie, still teasing you like she did before you got together — except, now she no longer needs to hide her blush with a tilting of her face, because she knows you caught her already. plus, it makes her stomach stir with butterflies. “jus’ looking at your pretty face” says you — silently, sheepishly smiling and arching your brows. it’s so much fun to be able to actually tell her that, cause y’know — that’s your girlfriend now.

ellie chuckles, throwing the controller to the side, adjusting her body from a manspreading position to sitting criss crossed on the couch. she wipes her forehead with her forearm — a sign of nervousness? you lick your glossy lip, she’s so cute.

“you’re the pretty one” ellie notes.

you cock your head to the side, fake pondering. “if i’m the pretty one, what are you then?”

truthfully you’re so cute in your pj shorts, she doesn’t think she knows who she is anymore or if her name’s actually ellie. she sighs, huffing some air out of her cinnamon freckled cheeks. “the cool one”

okay… maybe, but she’s also just awfully gorgeous. you roll your eyes, “well,” — you throw your hands and smack them on your thighs, “i think you’re just pretty” — and she thinks you’re just stubborn.

“don’t think i’m cool?” she snorts, completely ignoring the compliment once again (as it makes her cheeks grow plum red and she’s hating that right now). she signals at the flat screen with her pointer finger, “you’re gonna pretend you didn’t just see me fucking that team up? i mean…” she keeps on yapping, your smack your lips and stare at hers. you’re not pretending to do anything, it’s not your fault you’ve been ignoring the game when she’s been toying with that plastic ball like you dream she’d toy with your—

“can you kiss me?”

you’ve interrupted her completely, but it pretty much seals the deal.

the back of your neck is being pulled by her right hand, and the string of your tank top is being pulled by her left one — not to undress, simply just to bring you closer. her lips on yours feel like heaven, a small gasp released by your mouth. she hums into the kiss, then pulls away. “knew you weren’t paying attention to me” ellie murmurs and it sends shivers down your spine. her voice is husky and cocky and ugh! you almost feel the need to let her swallow you whole. “was paying attention,” you insist, blinking like you’re in panic (or letting your lashes flutter to turn her on), “just not to the game”

“yeah?” she chuckles, caressing your half covered back with slow, up and down strokes. “what were you looking at then?” she questions with a cocky grin. you so want to kiss her again. “dunno”, you shrug innocently, slightly letting your bottom lip fall down into a pout. she so wants to kiss you again — so she does, murmuring a broken sentence of “ohmmmmph — you dunno?” into the kiss.

this time, the kiss is different. she slides her tongue inside of your begging mouth, letting it swirl and twirls over yours, pull it — goddamn, suckle on it with a horny grunt. you whimper, hiccup, cry almost, desperately seeking something more… a relief, to that dull ache that’s sitting or stomping between your legs — all because of a kiss and her grunt and that controllers ball you’re so damn jealous of…

“c’mere” she huffs, but instead of letting you come there, she forcefully grabs you by your waist, making you sit atop her lap. you’re both gasping, you wanna say something, but she kisses the corner of your mouth and… “ellie” is all you can whine, she responds with a squeeze to your waist. she kisses more, planting plenty of pecks to your scorching cheek, letting out shaky breaths to each and every one of your half whimpers half moans. she reaches your neck, and her tongues out again. she licks a long stripe, a confident one, but breaks it in order to look into your eyes and ask for your consent — it’s the farthest you’ve went so far.

“babe?”, she asks, your half lidded eyes and dazed look kind of tell her all she needs to know but she’s chivalrous.

“please” you whisper, nodding then burying your face in the crook of her neck. she grunts to that — jesus how pretty you sound when you beg, you have no fucking idea. another suckle on your neck comes, this time right at your pulse point, making the hairs rise and a clit thump. you let go of a choked gasp, holding on to ellie’s shoulders as she splatters open mouthed kisses on the flesh of your neck. you grab the back of her neck, pull on her bun. “fuuhuck” she exasperates, as if she’s the one getting marked and sucked on. quickly enough, because ellie misses your lips, she kisses you again with a whole lotta tongue.

you don’t even notice when or how you started grinding and rocking on her grey sweat’s covered thigh. in too much of a daze to notice anything at this point — you searched for friction.

she notices quickly enough though (obviously).

“whatcha doing, huh?” she lets her forehead kiss yours. your eyes are fully shut — to be honest, her question sounded like gibberish and the cotton material of your shorts was so thin. you don’t respond, you just… rut. she pulls slightly away, back straightening and leaning backwards, almost as if she was watching a play at the theater. she heavily breathes, scrunches her scarred brows and takes a look — takes a stare — at the way you seem so… concentrated, and horny, pouty and needy and it’s all for her or because of her. she almost places her hands on her head and leans back to keep watching.

her muscular thigh feels good — too good, you wanna bounce on it till you cum and leave a stain on her pants, you want her to bounce you on it — her, with her hands… where are her hands?!

you break right out of your trance, embarrassingly open your eyes and search for ellie… who’s leaning back, mouth agape and eyes coal black as she flexes her thigh. there’s a mixture of pure need and humiliation inside of your gut, but the latter evaporates as she mutters the following words;

“do that again”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #hehe hot

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lolitakirstein · 5 months

Text

Sleepy men

How the men of Aot sleep/cuddle and what they wear

Ft: Eren Levi Jean Reiner

Cw: nothing really, fluff? Hint of smuttiness.

EREN: He’s a restless sleeper. Constantly tossing and turning. Mumbling. Slinging his arms over and around you when he rolls over to curl up next to you, mushing his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it. He generally just wears his boxers, nothing fancy. “I sleep hot,” he admits. And good god yes the guy is a FURNACE, you sometimes have to push away from him during the night because he gets so warm. “Get back here” he’ll whines, reaching blindly for your body across the bed. “You’re burning me up!” you say, putting space between you and his hot body. He’ll groan and then throw the covers off of you, exposing you to the cold room. He smirks as you yelp at the cool air and immediately curl back up into him. The heat DOES pay off in the winter because you sneak your cold feet onto his back. “Goddamn, get those ice cubes off of me!” he mumbles sleepily into the pillow. “But your sooooo warm,” you giggle.

Levi: He sleeps like a Victorian child struck down with the plague. On his back, hands across his chest like he’s in a casket. He doesn’t move once during the night. “I don’t want to mess up the bed that much,” he says. He wears luxury silk pajamas with his initials on them. It was difficult when you first started sleeping together, you didn’t know if he was a cuddler or not so you just laid on your side next to him for the first few stays over. However, you got brave enough and ask “Do you like to cuddle?” He takes a beat before answering, “Its been awhile since i’ve done such activities but i’m not opposed to it.” You take that as a go-ahead and wrap up against his side, his arm curls around your shoulder, gently stroking your bare arm. “Is this ok?” you ask. He sighs, “Actually this is perfect.” He loves having the weight of you on top of him, sometimes your legs thrown over his. Even when you turn away in your sleep, he will reach a hand to keep on you, just a reminder that you are there with him.

JEAN: This man is a fucking BED HOG! No matter how big the bed is, they cant contain his tall frame and long legs. He sleeps in a band tshirt and basketball shorts. He will let you wear one of his tshirts to bed as well. He’s a blanket snob too, always stealing them from around you. “Jean I’m cold!,” you pout, trying to tug the covers from around him. He’ll laugh at your pathetic whining and pull you to where you are both on your sides facing each other. His long legs tangling with yours. “Better,” he’ll ask, kissing your nose. “Much” you mumble into his chest, inhaling his scent. When you have a nightmare and are fretting around in your sleep, he will wrap his lean arms around you, kissing your sweat-damp head trying to soothe you. “Hey i’m here, its ok.” he’ll murmur. He easily relaxes you back to sleep.

REINER: He sleeps in flannel pants and shirtless AND he is a CUDDLER!!!! From the moment your ass hits the mattress he is dragging you close to his body. He loves spooning, the feel of your naked back against his bare chest and the smell of your clean hair is like a sedative to him. “God you smell so good,” he says into your neck. He’s always struggled falling asleep, but once you started spending the nights, he was finally able to get the best sleep he’s ever got. He loves it when you spoon him, draping your tiny body over his muscular back, sometimes tracing your fingers up and down his back and kissing the nape of his neck as you both drift off. When you sleep on your back he lays on his side to face you and wraps his arm over your torso, legs intertwined. He loves watching you sleep, and how peaceful you look. It makes him feel so incredibly lucky. You always wake up to him stealing kisses on your neck or chest or even between your legs. He is ALSO ravenous in the morning.

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ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

I haven’t seen anyone write ghost!reader helping the BAU solve her own case…like knocking things over to get their attention or play eerie songs to give hints😭

THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA??

For FBI specialists, these guys suck. They've spent 20 minutes looking through your bedroom, and not once have they gone through the shoes in your closet, where one is tucked carefully away with a blood-stained heel. You'd driven it into your killer's eye just before he'd stuck his own weapon into your stomach, and you'd watched him put it neatly away in its place as you bled out.

"Y'know, I think we are looking at victims of opportunity," A tall, lanky one muses, hair in messy waves down to his shoulders as his slender hands hold your journal that you're not too happy he's reading. "There's nothing in here that indicates any sort of high-risk lifestyle, or anything that connects Y/N to the other victims. I think she just had her window open, and that was enough."

"I think you're right, Reid. This doesn't exactly look 'high-risk' to me." Another speaks, the dark tone of his skin a stark contrast against the white button-up he's holding out from your closet.

"But there's still something missing," Reid hums, peering confusedly around the room, "I mean, the other victims lived miles away. So if these really are opportunity kills, this guy's driving across the country and perusing neighborhoods to kill? That's not very probable."

"No. There's something else," The bigger one agrees, kneeling by the stain of your blood against the carpet. You watch on from the corner of the room, waiting for him to tuck his fingers just beneath the edge of the bed and withdraw the token that had fallen there when your killer had flailed about in the loss of his eye.

He doesn't.

You groan with frustration, but neither of them hear it. You're tired of waiting, tired of watching, tired of hoping they crack the case. You lunge for the bed, sending a breeze against the bottom of the comforter and rippling it so that the coin is visible for a split second.

The bulky agent's eyes widen slightly at the unexplainable draft, his thick brows dipping in concern. But he's seen the shiny coin, and he lets out a tsk as he examines it.

"Morgan? What's wrong?" Reid glances over at him, "Is that-?"

"A train token," Morgan drawls, "'Guess we know how this guy's getting around."

"Where did you find that?"

"It was under the bed." Morgan recalls, "It was... weird. There was this little breeze, like- like someone moved the comforter. That's the only reason I saw it. Would've missed it otherwise."

Reid's eyebrows arch curiously, then a smirk slides over his lips, "Maybe it was a ghost."

"There's no such thing as ghosts, pretty boy." Morgan scoffs, standing up straight with the token in hand, "Let's go, we've gotta deliver the profile- ah!"

Before they can walk out the door, you grab the shoe from your closet, flinging it at Morgan's ankle in retaliation for his rather rude comment. He jumps nearly a foot in the air, looking down at your bloody heel in terror.

"That just- that just hit me! It flew out of the closet, and- no, man, I'm not doing this. Fuck- fuck this, I'm going back to the car."

"It's bloody," Reid crouches to examine the shoe, warily glancing at the closet it had flown from, "Go ahead, Morgan, I'll just be a second."

"That is why white people die in horror movies," Morgan spits, already beelining for the front door, "I don't fuck with ghosts!"

When he's gone, Reid is silent. He snaps pictures of the heel, only touching the mess after it's been sufficiently recorded. There's some obscene mush that rubs off onto his finger and he grimaces, inspecting the remains.

"It's an eye," He murmurs to himself, but you hear it from where you're crouched right beside him. He has a pretty face, Morgan wasn't lying. He peers curiously once more at the closet, and you slide yourself into his line of vision as if he can see you. It's refreshing to have someone look at you again, even if they don't know they are.

Reid stands, taking your heel with him. He digs a plastic bag out of his pocket and slides the heel inside, gloves stained the same unsettling color. He starts for the door, finished with his investigation, but he lingers just before he can exit your bedroom. You're standing just behind him, intent on walking the man out and watching him drive away.

He turns back, gaze aimed towards the closet that's no longer occupied by your supernatural throwing arm.

"Thank you," He speaks, "I believe you're real. And I hope this- uh, finishes your business here. I hope you get to rest soon."

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euphorajeon · 6 months

Text

the love upon your eyes | jjk

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college au

— word count: 0.9k

— warnings: soft jk, llike very soft, shirtless jk, that's it haha

— summary: when your mind is cloudy with sleep, jeongguk takes the opportunity to gaze at you, lovingly.

— author's note: broo did you all see how cool jeongguk was in golden live on stage... our best friend for real... also the gcf in budapest is really boxer!gguk coded hhh i got whiplash watching it. anyways. hope you enjoy this little bit of something from boxer!gguk !!! (ps. this is basically in the sheets but with the roles reversed :> )

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

You’ve known Jeongguk for as long as you can remember. His annoying presence seemed to cement itself in your life, not allowing you to have a day without some memories of him. Jeongguk who always sang on the way home from school. Jeongguk who was there when you almost drowned when you were ten. Jeongguk who made fun of your hair in middle school. Jeongguk who had a colorful t-shirt phase in high school. Jeongguk who moved to another city for university.

It felt weird when he left, not having someone follow you around just to pester you, but eventually, it felt peaceful. You’re able to make new friends, study properly, and enjoy your time as a new university student. Jeongguk still texted you occasionally, giving you updates of his life and bantering with you whenever he wanted (when you protested, he said he’d only done that because he was bored. You’d given him the middle finger emoji which he laughed off.)

Jeongguk’s been annoying all of his life, so when he showed up at your doorstep two years after the last time you saw him, you expected nothing less. He truly didn’t change, still the same Jeongguk who brushed off your shocked concerns and responded with teasing remarks instead. So much teasing, so much tempting, until you lost it and kissed him right on his pierced lips.

All of that tells you that Jeongguk will always be annoying. Endearing, but annoying. Loving, but annoying.

So imagine how you feel when one morning, your whole world tilts on its axis when you open your eyes to Jeongguk gazing at you, lovingly. Most of his body is covered in his white blankets, only his shoulders and arms are visible, one of which is covering the bottom part of his face. You can only see his nose and eyes, again obstructed by the unruly strands of his hair, but those eyes tell everything. They tell you that Jeon Jeongguk is looking at you with all the love he has stored in his heart, without even a pinch of the annoying twinkle he usually has hidden somewhere in the flecks of his orbs.

Jeongguk lets out a chuckle through his nose when you groan.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he says, words muffled by his arm still covering his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

Your barely-open eyes narrow into slits, blurring his form in your vision into a mush of white, black, and skin color. Despite that, you know the sound he just let out is another chuckle through the nose, now even more endeared. “Who are you, and what have you done to my Jeongguk?”

It sounds sassy in your head, your usual tone when talking to your boyfriend, but you don’t know that it only sounds like a jumbled mess in Jeongguk’s ears. Your whole body is still heavy with sleep, the tiny functioning part of your brain only recognizing the love in Jeongguk’s eyes that is so peculiar until your brain fails to aid to your ability to speak clearly. You don’t have to worry, though, because the tiny laugh that rumbles through Jeongguk’s chest tells you that he understood your words perfectly.

“Why so cranky, babe?” Jeongguk reaches out a tattooed hand to pinch lightly at your cheek. “Was last night not enough?”

You’re in the middle of turning around, intending to ignore Jeongguk’s soft stare and confront it later when you’re more awake, but his question makes you pause. Focusing your crusty eyes on him, you just realize that he’s not wearing any shirt, his arms and shoulders bare for you to see. Oh, he must have been looking at you with so much love pouring out of his eyes for you to miss the tattooed bulging biceps on display. This is bad.

Okay, back to his question. Last night, he said?

Your hands automatically pat down your body, which, thankfully, is covered by a t-shirt. You even still have your pajama shorts on. What does he mean by last night?

Apparently you voiced that aloud, with confusion written all over your sleepy face.

“Alright, alright, we didn’t go all the way last night,” Jeongguk laughs—he’s really cheerful considering the time of day, you notice—while coaxing the crease between your eyebrows away with his fingers. “Made out for a while on the bed, but you kinda slipped away from the kiss in the middle of it. I guess you were too tired, so I let you sleep instead.”

You didn’t remember anything from last night. Maybe he’s right, exhaustion took over your entire body that your brain just didn’t store any memories for a few hours. So, you ask the one sensible thing your brain could conjure up right now: “Did I leave you with a hard-on?”

Your eyes are nearly closed again, so you don’t see the amused expression Jeongguk has on his face. “If I tell you yes, would you apologize for it?”

“Mhm, sorry,” you mumble non-commitally.

There’s a few seconds pause. Then, “That’s it? No snarky remarks about how you don’t have to apologize for my bodily function?” Jeongguk asks, still amused by your lack of bite.

“Mhm,” you hum again. “Wanna go back to sleep…” You’re interrupted by a big yawn, “if argument, no sleep…”

Jeongguk has to bite his lip to prevent himself from breaking into a huge grin as he reaches for you, tugging your form closer to his so you can place your head on his chest. He envelops you in his arms, completely engulfing your frame with his big build. You drape your arm lazily on his waist, let him tangle his legs with yours. Jeongguk then drops a kiss on your head, one you barely register because your brain starts succumbing back to sleep.

“Sleep tight, sleepyhead,” he whispers before smiling to himself.

“I’ll still love you even if you gave me blue balls in the middle of the night.”

a/n: thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed this little ball of fluff hehe. help me improve by giving me feedback in my askbox or here! :D

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 6 months

Text

London calling

Summary; Price is invited to a military event, you're his plus one. A night of socialising and teasing leads to a hot night back at the hotel.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Explicit

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 12.5k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), SMUT (18+ mdni), oral (m-receving), dirty talk, p-in-v, d/s themes, unprotected sex, captain!kink

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: Where's the nearest wall I can bang my head against? I need this man so bad and that's why you get 12k upon my return💀😭

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

If not for the Christmas lights dangling almost in line with your window, the quickly diminishing daylight soon would've shone with its absence within the room. Dusk was approaching, if not already present, but not with its rosy summer glory, but a gloomy and yellowy-grey sky of early winter.

Things were still a scale of grey and dark rather than white. Even though some stray white flakes had fallen when you arrived yesterday, they'd melted even before hitting the pavement. And, if it had been cold enough, pedestrians still would've trambled it into mush, and cars would've melted it with their heat.

You put on the small pendant earrings you'd brought as you glanced out the window and down at the people mulling about on the streets.

Most had shopping bags in their hands, everyone seemingly in a hurry. You didn't need to see their faces whip left and right to find the next store they could steer towards. The ant-like stir of people was enough to know Christmas shopping was in full swing.

A heavy breath escaped you, your eyes flittering back to the mirror.

You ran your hands down the fabric wrapped around your body. The material felt cool beneath your sweaty palms as you tried to brush out any wrinkles from the dress. Impossible, seeing how you'd gotten it from the tailor this morning and barely touched it inside its casing.

You took another deep breath, one hand raising until your palm rested over the centre of your chest, fingers draped over your bared clavicles. There's a prickling sensation beneath your hand, resembling the crowd's irregular movement outside. If you concentrated enough, you could almost feel how it vibrated, causing your heart to do an uncomfortable double beat that quickly pushed the air from your lungs before you instinctively inhaled.

"Not goin' to faint on me, are you, love?" Your eyes flicker sideways, landing on John as he emerges from the hotel room's bathroom.

"Might just now", you say breathlessly for an entirely different reason than the edginess causing the prickly sensation in your body.

The man now making his way towards you is the same one you travelled to London with. And yet, there's no jacket ladened with a furry lapel warming him from the chilly temperatures, no beanie atop his head to shield him from the consistent gusts of wind. Now, he's dressed smart.

Whatever event he's invited to is military in nature. So, while John mentioned that it was a black-tie event for civilians, it was ceremonial for him, meaning you would see him in his formal military uniform. But nothing had prepared you for how regal he now looked in his dark blue suit, polished black leather crossbelt with shoes to match, and the row of medals proudly displayed on his chest. The only missing thing was the matching hat pressed close to his body beneath his arm.

"Flatterin' an old man?" Your gaze locks with his again from having roved over his body, noticing the creases in the corner of his eyes as he stops beside you.

"You deserve every ounce of flattery when looking like that". You turn to John just as he settles one of his hands on the small of your back. In return, you raise your fingers, barely brushing them against the underside of his chin as you lean up and kiss him.

"Mhm, don't look too shabby yourself", he mumbles against you as you pull away from the brief exchange.

"Thank you". You turn towards the mirror again, eyeing yourself. "I didn't know if it was too much".

"Could never be".

You'd meant it to be a quick look, but your attention stayed on your reflection, eyes flittering over your form.

There were a few beats of silence until John stepped up behind you, the hand previously on your back sliding to accommodate the new position. You follow his larger frame in the mirror, simultaneously feeling and seeing how his hands settle on your hip.

"Nervous?" Those blue eyes meet yours in the reflective surface, knowing. You release yet another sigh, head ducking momentarily as you lean into the sturdy bulk of John at your back.

"Yeah", you breathe, the admittance not the first of its kind.

When the news had been brought up that John needed to attend some military event in London, you hadn't blinked twice. However, when he mentioned the invitation inquired about a plus one upon acceptance, and he'd asked you, you'd looked at him wide-eyed.

"There's no need to worry, love". John dips his head, kissing the juncture of your neck. "You know nothing is expected from you".

Your shoulders slump, hands seeking his as he wraps his arm around your waist. The weight was a pleasant pressure around your mid-drift while his skin was warm beneath your hand.

"I know, but-". You bite your lip, shrugging timidly, eyes meeting John's in the mirror. "It's a military event".

"Nervous 'bout meetin' some colleagues of mine?"

"Not just any type of colleagues", you mumble, making John let out a gentle chuckle.

"You get along great with the lads".

"That's when we're at the pub, not a formal occasion with a lot more of the same kind of people around". You huff in protest. Though Ghost wouldn't attend the event, Johnny and Kyle thankfully would. So, while John won't be the only familiar face in the crowd, that's still only three out of everyone invited.

"I just don't feel like I fit the picture". You shrug once, gaze dropping to watch you play with John's fingers. Your fingertips trail over his knuckles, then up and down his digits. Only when John interwines your hands does your motion stop and attention return to him.

"You'll fit because you'll be there with me". John's gaze was intense as he spoke, voice a steady, deep reassurance. "The lads nor I fancy these occasions, but we need to attend nonetheless. Your presence will undoubtedly make it more pleasant for me, at least".

You smile, craning your neck so you no longer watch him through the mirror but look up at him. John dips his chin in return.

"You're good at motivational speeches".

There's a chuckle before he nudges his nose against yours, moving closer. "Gotten good at 'em through the years". Your chuckle is sealed into your mouth as he slots his lips with yours.

Your muscles relax as you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours and soothe you just like a warm blanket. Even when you part, you linger within each other's presence.

John was the first to pull away entirely, his eyes falling from yours as he did. You watch him take a step back, keeping one hand on your hip as he lets his gaze rove over your body.

"God, you're gorgeous", he mutters, taking a full once over before those blues lock with yours again.

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through nonetheless. "Would hope so. You helped me pick, after all".

"Anythin' to make my missus feel pretty". Your smile widens even more.

John had known you were nervous about the event, reluctant to even agree to be his plus one at first. So, he'd done everything to make you comfortable.

When you'd had half a breakdown while digging through your closet, only to find nothing appropriate to wear, John sat with you as you looked at dresses online. After seeing nothing that felt right there either, he'd booked a weekend trip to London to visit the tailor he usually entrusted when his formal attire needed a sow-up.

It had been your first trip together, strolling through the city, having dinners, playing tourist despite not really sightseeing. Though one of the days, between walking and dining, you'd visited the tailor's atelier.

For once, John only sat down on one of the plush armrests; no need to be attended to. Instead, it was your time in the spotlight, the storage manager ushering you to the racks of dresses, instructing you to pick whatever caught your eye to try on.

None of the dresses were especially embellished. Still, they weren't simple but elegant.

You'd switched between examining the dresses, showing John to get his opinion when you found any you liked, to testing them. Although he didn't complain once about you taking your time, chatting to the owner with an old familiarity, even you were tired when you found a dress that was just right.

However, the sluggishness only brought on by trying on clothes disappeared the second the owner had taken your measurements and you stood by the pay desk. A deposit was needed for the dress, and the rest would be paid on the day you picked it up. But the pre-payment had been enough to nearly make you baulk and glance at John to see if he was okay with spending so much. However, the man at your side hadn't even blinked at the number.

After you'd bid the tailor goodbye and exited the store, you did ask about it. Though not unfamiliar with John's gentlemanly fashion of paying for things, how confidently he answered left you at a loss for an answer, only able to shake your head with a smile when he offered his arm to you. 'I want to, love. It's the least I could do when draggin' you to this spectacle. Now lead me wherever you can find some jewellery matchin' the dress".

"Would you help your girl feel even prettier?" You hold up the necklace bought to fit the dress. God, he'd spoiled you rotten for this event.

"My pleasure". John threw his hat on the bed, overtaking the jewellery from you. With a slight move of his head, he signalled you to turn around.

Despite facing the mirror again, your eyes were cast down as you tipped your head slightly forward. The glittering metal links suddenly pass your vision as he raises it over your head, the necklace falling over your collarbones as he lowers it. Feeling his fingers brush against your skin, not long after, a barely audible click indicates the piece of jewellery is secured around your neck.

When you raise your head, your eyes immediately fall to the necklace, your fingers trailing over it. A smile slowly shifts your lips upwards as you follow the pretty drop down your sternum. The gentle bow of your lips remains as you turn, craning your neck as you pout your lips, insisting that John meets you in a kiss. And he's never one to turn you down.

"Thank you", you offer after the sweet peck of gratitude, to which he hums in return.

You feel how his blue gaze follows you when moving towards the desk that became your makeup table for the night. Even more so when you reach for the lipstick you'd saved to apply until now.

Crouching slightly so your face aligns with the much smaller mirror on the wooden desktop, you carefully outline your lips before colouring the rest until an even shade coats them.

"What do you think?" You say, straightening up again. As you press your lips together, you put on the lid and place the lipstick in your purse, all in the motion of turning to face the man almost transfixed with you. "Thought the red matched those". You motion with your finger to the ribbons, half-red and half-other colours, attached to his medals.

"It does". You parry the hand reaching for you with a shift to the side, knowing that tone of voice from John would only mess up your makeup.

He arches a brow at your move, but you only arch both of yours in return as you put your clutch beneath your arm.

"We'll be late", you claim. Even so, you can't deny you enjoy John's attention and the look in his eyes. He makes you feel pretty, desired. It completely overhauls your stomach's previous knots.

Deciding to tease him just the slightest, you pop your index finger much more dramatically than needed into your mouth, pursing your lips around the digit before pulling it out slowly, all whilst keeping eye contact with the man watching you. You smile at John after your finger leaves your mouth, now not afraid of red smearing your teeth thanks to the ring of colour around the middle of your finger.

"Goodness, women", he groans, hand trailing over his lower face. You can only giggle as you pluck a tissue from the box on the desk, rubbing off the lipstick as you slip around John. "Could think you want to be late".

You throw the paper into the bin beside the dresser as you pass it to the short hall leading to the door, flashing a much more satisfied smile over his reaction than previously graced your lips.

"Good things come to those who are patient. You just have to wait until after the event for me to paint something else a pretty red".

You catch another deep, grumbly sound coming from him, your previous display more than enough to conjure precisely the picture you insinuated.

As you turn forward, you chuckle again, plucking your heels from the shoe stand built into the dresser. What you hadn't anticipated was for your shoes to be plucked from your grip seconds later and to find John standing close behind you with his retrieved hat under his arm.

You send him a questioning look that he ignores as he kneels. Unable to do anything else, you shift to rest your back against the dresser and follow along when he taps his kneecap.

You raise your foot so the front pad rests against John's knee before he gingerly grabs the back of your ankle, and the pump is slipped on. He gives you time to find the balance on your now-heeled foot as he drops it before repeating the process. However, before letting you go this time, he raises your foot just slightly as he dips his head, kissing the lowest part of your shin, all the while looking up at you.

"Gonna hold you to your words, love", he declares, dropping your foot to the ground.

You swallow, going from looking down to up as he rises from the floor. "Don't mind if you do".

"Good", he kisses your cheek, heeding your desire for him not to accidentally, or very consciously, destroy your makeup. "Let us be on the way", he says, grabbing your coats from the racks.

***

The venue was beautiful: an old building with pillared walls, a second floor acting as a running balcony overlooking the ground floor and high vaulted glass roofs that stare into the dark sky above. You'd only looked down from the stunning decoration and lighting when you ascended the stairs to the main floor, lifting your dress to not catch on the fabric.

You don't know how long ago that had been, but since then, you and John haven't been given much time alone.

Each and every minute, the man who either offered his arm for you to hold or kept a hand on the small of your back introduced you to someone he knew in one way or another. Although politely greeting them with either a nod or a handshake, there were too many names and too fleeting conversations for you to remember any of them.

Only now did you get the chance to breathe. But rather than feel at ease for the momentary respite, you'd hastily moved from the midst of the crowd to the edge of the room where the table of aperitifs and drinks was, a plate filled with bite-sized food in your hands.

You would've shared them with John if he hadn't been whisked away a few moments prior. Albeit he'd been reluctant to leave your side, even when it was some affiliate from the U.S. who asked for a few minutes of his time, you'd reassured him it was fine.

You'd told yourself you could survive at least a few minutes without John and that the buffet could keep you company enough. And though you weren't as uncomfortable as you previously thought you would be, the thought of socialising with someone you'd either met already or not at all felt... awkward.

You wouldn't call it shyness. Far from it, you were curious about some of those you'd met who sported black smokings, cocktail dresses or gowns. But, out of those civilians you'd met so far, most of them were not like you.

Your sole connection to this event, to the military, was John. The other considered civilians had seemingly much closer ties, most acting as private corporate sponsors for military-tied causes through funds or services. While finding it interesting, you didn't know how much of the stuff was confidential, and you would much rather not make a scene just for some small talk. Neither did many have a plus one you could initiate a conversation with. So, the buffet became your company.

Your gaze travels over the mass of people as you plop the last canapé into your mouth. And as if the universe decided to be kind, you spot a familiar face lingering at the other edge of the room.

With all the new people John had introduced you to and recently also had to part from you to speak with, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, along with the feeling of being lost in a crowd of still most unfamiliar people. Hence, you quickly discard your plate to instead grab two flutes of champagne before moving straight across the floor.

With people moving almost sluggishly, if at all, around the room, it was no wonder a pair of brown eyes combined with a friendly smile welcoming you met your long before you joined the very man whose attention you'd gotten.

"Kyle". The man nods in response to his name as you get close enough to greet him. The silent hello looks incredibly more formal while dressed similarly to John. "How are you?" You slow until stopping before him.

"Good as can be", his voice was light, making your brows raise upon the humour in his tone. He was the first of John's closest circle you'd seen tonight; Johnny had yet to arrive. Even so, by the looks of it, the Brit looked like he rather wouldn't be here at all.

Kyle carried himself straight-backed, faint smile in the corner of his mouth, one hand behind his back while the other rested along his side. And yet, despite the at-eased posture and expression upon his features, something told you it was entirely for show.

You chuckle, handing him the flute you'd brought. "Yeah, not really my setting either", you admit in a low voice.

Kyle cocks his head, smile widening as he shifts on his feet, accepting the drink you'd stretched forth. "What suggest I don't fancy this?".

"Don't know, but something about the all too delighted expression gave me a hint", you reply, sarcasm lacing your tone, on par with the amount that previously laden his sentence. That's the first time you see Kyle's shoulders drop somewhat as he chuckles, his posture less flawless as he looks more relaxed than previously.

You smile at his reaction, stepping forward to stand beside rather than in front of him. His brown gaze followed you as you did.

"Why ain't this your kind of setting then?". Your eyes fall on Kyle just as he shifts to look over the crowd.

"Too many of the older generation has gotten stuck and too comfortable behind their desks to remember what it's like out on the field. The rest are mostly snobs who think money and chest candy is our motivation". You bite your lip to stop the laughter rising from your throat at his quick remark. "Why isn't this your setting then? You fit in with the dress".

"Calling me a snob?" You raise a playful brow, a smile tugging the corner of your mouth.

"That you're here, talking to me, says enough", Kyle retorts, eyes falling on you.

You chuckle, but it turns into a sigh when your gaze breaks from his, fleeting over the crowd. "It just makes me nervous, I guess".

"Why?"

"Well, for the same reason as when I first met you guys". You glance at him. "Just feels like I don't fit in with all of you military people, especially now, at this event".

"Didn't do too bad of an impression on us back then. Especially not Price". You duck your head, a bashful smile bowing your lips that's still present when you look at the man at your side again.

"Perhaps not, but as you said, many here are high-ranking military personnel or snobs that are more difficult to get along with than you lot".

"Cheers to that", he chuckles, raising his glass of champagne. You mimicked his movement and raised your flute in a small tip, you both taking a sip from your drinks as they fell from their elevated position.

Your eyes glide over the crowd, and as if it's second nature, you search for John again. While having tried to spot him previously, you hadn't been successful. Although this time around, you find him.

"He's good at that". You observe John as he talks to the same man who'd whisked him away previously, though now they're also joined by a woman.

Your comment pulls Kyle's attention in the same direction as yours.

He releases a huff not soon after, the reaction making your brows arch and your head turn towards him. His brown eyes flicker down to lock with yours, a humorous glint in them.

"The old man is good at handling the higher-ups and other connections. That's why he does most of the talk for us". His eyes flicker sideways, probably towards the group you talked about, before they return to you. "Doesn't mean he despises it any less than the rest of us in most cases".

You turn to look at John, eyes narrowing as you closely watch him interact with the man and women. While he seems formal when talking to the man and more cordial with the women, he still doesn't seem relaxed. His posture is stiff, one arm bent behind his back as if wanting to pose fittingly to the occasion, his other hand clutching a champagne flute. Untouched.

Pissy excuse of fizzy water, he'd said once you asked if he wanted to share an old bottle you found in your apartment from god knows when, but acceptable enough that it wouldn't taste like the piss John labelled it as.

"That's why he brought you". Kyle's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "He's going to use you as a scapegoat the moment it's deemed enough for him to be here". You bit your lip to quiet your snicker, shaking your head.

"He isn't", you argue, only partly believing it yourself.

"Oh, he will". Your head turned towards the new but familiar voice, finding Johnny, dressed similarly to both John and Kyle, approaching from the crowd. "Don't put it past him".

You immediately split into a grin. "Johnny, how are you?" You step forward, engulfing the man in a hug, getting anchored to the Scot's side as his arm remains over your shoulders.

"Think Gaz gave ya a brief 'nough for us", the Scotsman formally greets the young Brit with a raise of his brows and an upward nod of his head as he directs his attention towards him. Kyle only reciprocated the motion, not answering his question. "Ya gonna drink that, lass?"

You shake your head fondly, Johnny taking the flute of champagne from your hand as you give it to him.

"Drunkard", you mumble, rolling your eyes as he gulps down your drink, only to provide you with a cheeky wink when he's emptied the glass.

"Where's Price?" You're about to answer that he's socialising. But you don't get the opportunity before a voice cuts in.

"Savin' my missus from a drunk Scotsman, it seems". Your head snaps towards John's voice, a smile unfolding as you see him nearing your group while collective chuckles emerge from the men around you. "Easy on the drinks tonight, Sergeant". John's eyes switch from yours as he directs his attention to Johnny, the quirk of his lips now reaching his eyes.

"All stereotypes ain't true, Captain. Besides-". The Scot lets go of you, his arm falling as he steps to the side, giving John room to step into the semi-circle. As if you never left his side, his arm naturally falls around your waist, anchoring you to his broad frame again. "-can't get drunk on this, know it yaself", Johnny chuckles.

John hums in agreement, swirling the golden liquid in his flute with the hand hanging by his side. You tap his flank, and he looks down at you. As you motion for the glass with a nod, he gives it to you without any protest, probably delighted to get rid of the drink.

You happily sip it, your throat not feeling as tight anymore when John's with you and you're surrounded by familiar faces.

"How's the evening been then, Captain?" John shifts to look at Kyle.

"Not too shabby, lot of talkin' as always", he says. "Where the two of you been then?" His eyes shift from his fellow Brit to Johnny, who's standing with the hand not clutching the empty glass in his pocket.

"You know how London traffic is". Kyle offers with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not complaining about it this time around though".

"Only means you need to stay longer", John huffs, arm tightening around you. You can't help but shoot the younger Brit a look, an amused smile barely hidden beneath the rim of your glass. He cocks his head slightly, an unspoken 'what did I say' lingering between the two of you. "You two conspirin'?" Your eyes flitter back to John as he bumps his hip into yours.

"No", Kyle says as your eyes lock with the man at your side. John's eyes shine, a brow quirked in intrigue. It schooled the expression of rigidity he had previously, showing how at ease he became around his men despite the setting.

"What he said". You smile sweetly at John, fluttering your lashes, causing a ruckus of laughter around you.

"Be careful, Captain. That one is a sly thing". Johnny claps him on the shoulder.

"I know".

"Don't paint me in a bad light", you joke, nudging John's side with your elbow. The man in question chuckles when watching the pout you send him.

"The lot rub off on me", he indirectly chides Johnny and Kyle, both of whom make faux hurtful sounds upon the comment. "I better steal you away from them and introduce you to better company".

"Who could possibly be better company than us? The silent grump ain't here anyway". The Scotsman questions, glancing around the space with a humoured look until it returns.

"Laswell is better than the two of you together", John returns with a chuckle, his arm tightening around your waist to signal that you soon would be moving to meet whoever this Laswell was.

Upon what's apparently a familiar name, Johnny's brows jump upwards. "She made it here? Didn't think she would".

John only answers with an affirming hum. "Behave now", he offers in goodbye while you give them a wave before he tugs you with him.

As John directs the two of you through the crowd, you soon realise where he's taking you. The woman he's leading you towards is the same one he'd been talking to previously.

You give him a curious glance when you note she isn't dressed in any military uniform, only a long-sleeved jumpsuit. Even so, when you turn to face her again, the woman has noticed your nearing presence and turned toward you, eyes regarding you in a manner too in-depth to be a civilian.

Her eyes flicker sideways as you stop before her, most probably to the man at your side. It's brief but enough for her face to soften and a hint of a smile to quirk her mouth.

"Kate Lawsell", her American accent is apparent as her eyes fall to meet yours again upon the greeting. You're not late to shake the hand she stretched forth, introducing yourself in return. "So you're John's sweetheart?"

You shrug with a smile as you feel John's thumb start brushing circular patterns through the silky material of your dress. "Guess I am". She hums, the corner of her lip twitching a bit further upwards.

"Almost thought he made you up with the lack of evidence about his special someone".

You chuckle while practically feeling how John rolls his eyes. "S'no need to carry a photo with me everywhere".

"Expected it from a traditional one like you", she shrugs one of her shoulders. Their exchange makes you smile, head cocking slightly.

"So, where do you know each other from?"

"I work for C.I.A., deal a fair share with the 141 and that British Captain of yours". Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent oh as your eyes shift to John, then back to Kate.

"That ain't half-bad". Your comment brings out a chuckle from the dark blonde woman.

"Say that when trying to keep any kind of leash on him". Kate nods towards John, a conspiring look in her eyes, one he gruffs at.

"That so?" You face the man at your side with an amused expression, catching the look he sends the woman opposite him. "Am I hearing that you're a nuisance at work?"

John's eyes flicker to you, his features softening as his head dips in a shake and small huff of laughter. "You women always like to team up".

Despite his comment, you talked with Kate for a few more minutes, getting to know more about her, until separate parties dragged her and John off. This time around, however, you got tugged along to the new conversation, with no choice but to remain glued to the brunette's side as he didn't let up on his hold.

Although relieved to stay with him again, your feet start to feel sore, and your body tired. Consequently, you slowly let John take more room in the conversation as you fell silent, still with a smile present to appear interested in the conversation.

You take a deep breath, careful not to let your exhale sound like a sigh. Even so, John caught it, giving you a brief look to check in on you. You spare him a glance, attempting a soothing smile to fend off any potential concern.

His eyes flitter over your face before he turns forward again, offering a chuckle at something the soldier said. You'd completely missed what it was but mimicked John with a much softer sound huffed through your nose.

You try to concentrate after that, as it's the only polite thing to do. But god, you find your mind wandering to every little ache suddenly emerging.

Shifting the weight on your feet subtly, you try to move your hips to ease the twinge in your spine. Unsuccessful, you straighten your back, rolling your shoulders to try a different approach. Through your peripheral, you notice your squirming caught John's attention again, his gaze flickering sideways momentarily. Soon after, his thumb starts rubbing the small of your back with slightly more pressure just to be a subconscious movement.

John had been attentive to you the whole night, but if you could catch his attention this easily, you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't only your concentration that started to stray or energy to wither.

Even if you probably would do both of you a favour by asking if it was time to leave, you didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so you simply let your head fall sideways onto John's shoulder, content with feeling how his kneading thumb eased the discomfort in your lower back.

Thankfully, whoever this Miller was, he didn't keep a long-winded conversation with John as Generals had. Instead, the soldier of equal rank soon bid you both goodbye, explaining his departure as not wanting to take up too much of your time. That made your smile more genuine than it had been while listening to the two men for the last few minutes.

As you sigh lightly, a gentle press against your back suddenly steers you forward. You don't protest when John moves you through the crowd, especially not when noticing he's leading you to the outskirts of it.

"How you feelin', love?" John ducks his head to ask the question as your pace slows.

"I'm good, just a bit exhausted after standing for so long", you return with a shrug as you stop at the edge of the crowd, between the columns lining the wall. You tilt your head to look at John as he stands opposite you. Blue eyes meet yours as his hand moves to the dip of your waist before they skate over the crowd.

You watch John as he does, feeling his finger through your dress as they rap against you, almost as if thinking about something.

Gaze falling, you follow his profile: the slope of his nose, the sharp line of his jaw accentuated by the angle of his head, his beard shining with the oil he'd worked into it after his earlier shower. God, he's too bloody handsome tonight.

From nowhere, you get the urge to lean up and kiss the skin of his throat right above his collar. Though quelling the desire to plant a red mark matching the outline of your lips on his throat here, amongst all these people, that's all it takes for your mind to spiral.

Gonna hold you to your words, love.

His sentence from the hotel room echoes in your mind, and suddenly, you can't wait any longer to be the scapegoat Kyle had dubbed you. Sick and tired of this event already.

When you take a step closer to John, his attention is quickly pulled back towards you. With his now undivided attention on you, you lightly grab the tie tucked beneath his jacket, tugging slightly on it to straighten the material to its previous perfection a few hours earlier.

Satisfied with the minor fix you'd done to his attire, you pat his chest, eyes travelling upwards to lock with his not soon after.

John scrutinises your hands that remain close to where you'd fiddled with his tie rather than drop to your sides. When his blue gaze locks with yours, his head cocks. "What are you up to?"

"M'nothing, just wondering when it's acceptable to leave this event".

John's eyes narrow slightly before his brows rise. "Any special reason to why?"

"Just want to go back to the hotel". You made it evident that trailing your hands down his chest wasn't a coincidence but a conscious decision as you lowered them to pull your purse from beneath your upper arm. "Don't know what you're insinuating".

"You don't?" You only reply with a coy nuh-uh sound as you open your purse, pulling out the golden encasing housing your lipstick.

You'd touched up your makeup once throughout the evening, right after John left you to talk with whoever the American man had been, along with Kate, for the first time. As you do it now, blue eyes fall from yours, following your move of painting your lips in a new coat of red.

"You know very well what you're doin', love". His words are spoken slowly, but their edges are rough, frayed.

"Just playing my part as pretty arm candy". After putting away your lipstick again, you motion to your lips. "Want to help me so I don't get any lipstick on my teeth?" You form your lips into an o, knowing precisely what you're doing.

"Love...", he warns, fingers pressing into your waist.

"John?" You retaliate with a cock of your brow, only to shrug when he makes no move to help you.

Raising a finger, you place only the tip between your lips before pulling it out with a pop.

A repressed groan escapes John, head tilting backwards, eyes shut tightly. "You're doin' this to me on purpose", he grinds out.

"Of course I am", you giggle in return, using your other hand to rather unceremoniously rub away the red colour with your fingers. "So what's the choice? We staying a bit longer or-". You're not even allowed to finish the sentence before John's head tips forward again, and he does it for you.

"We're goin', now". His arm swiftly wraps around your waist to turn the both of you towards the exit.

"Can't play polite anymore?" You let yourself be carried along.

"Been plenty polite when all I've wanted the whole evenin' is to return to the hotel". John's hand scorches the place it pushes against the small of your back, guiding you straight to the very stairs you'd entered through hours ago. "Then you're pretty arse go about actin' up, provin' how much more I would've gotten done there than here", he grumbles, making you swat the side of his chest with a low, chastising John concerning the setting you're on. The man in question only sends you a look, daring you to argue against him, but after forcing his hand to take you back to the hotel, you can't.

There was a warm, eager air between you and John as you retrieved your coats and exited the venue. You shared glances, fleeting but heated locks of your eyes that had your body igniting. Touches setting you aflame even if his was much the same as throughout the evening but firmer, while yours were brief, teasing over his torso.

When John managed to hail a cab, he let you enter first, following seconds later and sitting down in the backseat with a low, frustrated sound.

He tugs his hat from his head, the other hand smoothening his hair. You both know there's a twenty-minute ride ahead of you when even half the time would've been too long and yet you watch him with amusement as his head thuds backwards.

He must feel your eyes on him as his head rolls to face you. You didn't need to say anything; your smile was enough to make him release a low, impatient grunt, eyes closing.

You chuckle, hand settling on John's thigh as you do. Apparently, he thinks there's an ulterior motive behind your action as his eyes snap open, sending you a warning look that, if anything, made you wish you had done something to deserve it. His large hand grabs yours to emphasise the message to not try anything, dropping it in your lap instead. Even so, he doesn't pull away afterwards, instead letting your fingers intertwine.

When finally rolling up to the hotel, John couldn't stop tapping his thumb against your hand as he paid for the cab, practically dragging you along when he exited the car.

With his hat in a white-knuckled grip and your hand in a gentler hold, the two of you moved through the lobby. You felt how fiercely John battled with himself to not stalk to the elevators but keep a pace that wouldn't draw attention and you could match.

It's always amusing seeing John like this, exhilarating if nothing. And that's why you can't help but poke the bear while waiting for the elevator.

You slip your hand from his, blue eyes immediately falling to you as your arm closest to him slides beneath his coat and around his waist, squeezing his mid-drift teasingly.

"Someone seems impatient". The end of your sentence is perfectly followed by the chime of the elevator arriving. Letting your hand drop after pressing your fingers into John's side, you stride into the empty space with a sway to your hips. "I wonder why". You look over your shoulder, a smile gracing your lips as you cock a brow.

John is hot on your heels, pressing the button to close the doors rather than waiting for them to do so.

Just when you turn to lean against the railing the furthest in, he takes the last step towards you, hands settling beside your own, caging you against the wall just as the door slides close.

"You should know what torture it's been havin' you this good-lookin' and unable to do anythin' the whole evenin'". John's words are rushed as his head dips close to your face.

"Ditto", you return in a hum, gaze flittering down and then up again. "There was a relatively empty second floor I thought about dragging you to".

"Fuckin' hell, don't say that", he groans, hand coming to cup the back of your neck, angling your face towards his.

Yet, before John can press his mouth against yours, the elevator suddenly halts on a floor too early to be yours.

He quickly drops his hand and moves so he doesn't corner you against the wall, even though he remains awfully close. Your eyes swiftly snap to the opening doors, schooling your features into a polite smile at the woman who steps into the elevator. She offers you a similar one before her eyes flicker to John. When they do, her eyebrows rise before they jump back to you.

For a few mortifying seconds, you fear she knows precisely what she interrupted until her smile becomes softer.

"If the two of you don't make a stunning pair", she remarks kindly, making John turn his head to look at her, his body still firmly angled towards you.

"Well, thank you", you answer for you both.

"My husband was also in the military", she directs the comment to you even if her eyes flitter to John when she continues. "But he never took me to those fancy events. The old man despised them like the plague".

"Seems like all of them do". You chuckle in return, patting John's side fondly.

The man in question remains remarkably silent, only muttering something under his breath. Your eyes switch to him, sending him a questioning look. Blue eyes return your stare as his head tilts to the right, just a notch, but your brows only pinch together, still not understanding what he's trying to silently get at. That is until his face sets and John angles his hips just slightly more into the upper part of your thigh, and you feel it.

You almost gasped at the considerable bulge in his pants that definitely would be in danger of showing. Yet, you manage not to, only letting your brows shoot up when you finally understand John's silence and the position he was adamant about keeping.

The woman, however, must have interpreted it like some coupley squabble as she chuckles at your interaction, pulling your attention to her.

"Young love, always so charming."

"Young?" John scoffs into your ear, his voice barely enough to be considered a whisper. "Got me feelin' like a bloody teen", he grouses over his predicament.

You duck your head, forehead falling against his shoulder as you muffle the chuckle bubbling in your throat.

While the man you hide your face against notices your shoulders jumping and sends you a glare, the woman again misinterprets your reaction.

"No need to be embarrassed. We've all been young once".

"Did you meet your husband young?" You shift the conversation when finally facing her, sure no trace of your previous amusement could be detected.

"Oh goodness, yes, even younger than the two of you", she motions to you and John with a wave. "Much more immature, too". You almost laugh out loud at that. And like previously, John notices, husking a low, pointed 'Don't laugh' into your ear.

"This one's a real gentleman." You turn to face John, smiling up at him despite being met by a stern expression. What the women don't see is the way your hand trails down, down over his stomach until the flat of your palm presses into the spot just above his groin.

John's jaw flexes, unable to snatch your hand and pull it away if not genuinely desiring to draw attention to what you're doing. But that doesn't stop his blue eyes from meeting yours as he lowly hisses, "And don't do that".

Then, the elevator suddenly lets out a ding as it stops.

"It was lovely to meet you youths, but this is my stop", the woman waves after the doors slide open, John craning his neck to watch her leave with a faint, for your eyes awfully forced, smile. "Have a great evening".

"You too!" You reciprocate her wave as she exits, receiving a friendly smile before the doors close.

Seconds, it takes seconds before your vision is once more filled by John.

"You... love-", he chuckles, nose scrunching as his head cocks to the side. "-oh, you are trouble".

"Don't be moody. You were called a youth", you chuckle. John only manages to open his mouth before the elevator chimes again, this time on your floor.

You know it was your saving grace from how those blue eyes had narrowed at you. Instead, he only exhales sharply as you grasp his hand, forcing him to follow you to the exit.

Although reaching the doors, you stall with one hand holding them open, peeking outside, head swivelling right and left down the corridor. Noticing the coast was clear, you tug John with you.

Even if no one was around, he walked close enough behind you that the slight problem in his pants would be hidden enough if you stumbled into someone.

Thankfully, you didn't meet anyone on the way to your room, sparing you from the embarrassing interaction that could've occurred. However, it enabled John to whip out the key card and more than a bit unceremoniously push you into your room once the light flashed green, the door barely slipping close before he chucked his hat to the side to pull you against him.

John's thick arm winds around your waist, pulling your body against his as his nose gently knocks against yours. Hot lips descending upon yours soon after, moulding your mouths together.

A groan vibrates against your lips, John's fingers digging into your ribcage and the side of your stomach. His near-desperate need to feel you against him makes your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. The response is instantaneous, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. It's your time to release a pleased sound, something melting away from your body as hunger takes its place.

"Fuckin' hell", John nearly rips himself away from you as he grunts the words against your parted lips, hands enveloping your face as he lets his forehead rest against you. Heavy exhales puff against your face in an attempt to steady his heaving chest, to rein in himself. He doesn't remain like that for long, shifting backwards as his eyes flutter open.

John's gaze locks with yours, eyes considerably darker than usual. Sodalite rather than aventurine. A warm shiver runs down your spine, unable to continue meeting those blues due to the flush spreading through your body. And yet, despite the tangible tension, a chuckle travels up your throat when your flickering eyes halt at one spot on his face.

Your amusement and thumb swiping over John's lips to wipe away the lipstick now coating them in a faint red pop the feverish bubble, turning it somewhat softer, less desperate.

When the added colour fades, you finally lock eyes with John again, finding they've creased in the corners.

"Maybe we should get you out of this, so I don't go about tainting that, as well", you hum, fingers falling to toy with his white dress shirt, mindful to keep the thumb you'd wiped his lips with at bay. Only a deep hum escapes John, yet it's enough for you to make do with your suggestion.

Your fingers find the first golden button on his army jacket, unbuttoning that, then the next and all the ones until it falls open. Hands moving inside, you feel the warmth of his skin shielded beneath his dress shirt.

Your hands move up his chest, over his shoulders, until you move the dark blue jacket down his arms. John shrugs out of it, and while letting his wool coat drop to the floor, you're mindful of the jacket, grabbing it in one hand as you move him backwards by pressing your body against his, lips teasingly close but not kissing, only brushing as your breaths mingle.

When you're close enough, you drape his jacket over the chair by the desk before attempting to move on to the next piece of clothing. But apparently, you move too slow for John as he steps back, yanking his tie loose to tug over his head, throwing it to the side. The buttons on his shirt make a frustrated grunt leave him before it's tossed aside as well. While your eyes never leave him, you slip out of your coat, letting it fall to the floor with no greater care than he'd done his clothes seconds later.

Not only does your gaze drop to John's now-bared chest. Your hands move on their own, feeling him up, sliding over his pecs and the slight patch of brown hair covering them before they slide lower, over his stomach, reaching the happy trail beneath his navel. But too soon, your exploration of his burly upper body ends, John moving out of your reach as he steps backwards.

Not until his shins hit the edge of the bed and he sits down does he stop putting space between you.

You watch as his shoes are toed off, all while keeping eye contact with you. Not until John raises a finger, motioning for you to come closer, do you follow him.

You're about to straddle his lap when he stops you, making a twirly motion with his hand. Your head tilts even if you listen, turning your back to him. Gripping your hips, John steers you to sit on his thigh. You wobble slightly as you do, hands shooting to stabilise yourself by grabbing his hand and his other thigh as you press your feet to the floor to keep stable upon the muscular seat.

Once he notices you've found your balance, his big paws slide up your body until his fingers brush the back of your neck. There's barely an ounce of fiddling before you feel the clasp of the dress unhook, and the zipper descends.

Kisses are pressed against the nape of your neck, the top of your spine and a last one on your shoulder blade before John squeezes your hips, urging you to stand with a delicate push upwards and forward. As you do, the heavy fabric of the dress falls to the floor, collecting in a lustrous circle around your feet.

When turning to face the man whose attention never averted from you, only your necklace, panties, and heels are the remnants of your previous outfit.

"Always so fuckin' pretty beneath those things", John mumbles, hands rising from his sides. But, before his hands can reach for you, you settle one of your own on his equally naked chest, giving a gentle shove. But the brunette doesn't heed your want, not letting himself be budged an inch.

"Scoot up, John". You nod upward the bed, positioning one knee between his legs on the tiny sliver of the mattress available. He cocks his head in intrigue, hand grasping the back of your thigh, running up and down with gentle gropes.

"What you plannin', love?"

You press your lips together, John's eyes flickering downwards before returning in a slow trail upwards to meet your gaze. "Wanna be good after how I've teased you, Captain". Your voice drops, nearly entering a purr as you trail your fingers to his jaw.

You see him shudder, goosebumps flittering down his forearms as his big hand squeezes the back of your thigh.

"Fine then", John moves up the bed, and you crawl after him, effectively shrugging off your heels that thud to the floor as you do.

As he makes himself comfortable, you busy yourself with opening his belt and rucking down his pants and boxers in one. John's flushed and erect cock bobs upwards towards his stomach as he lifts his hips for you. Just as you rid him of his pants, you remember something.

When you scoot off the bed again, you haphazardly throw his pants over the same stool as his jacket, moving towards your purse. John props himself on one elbow, brows pulling together as he follows you.

"Thought you say you wouldn't tease, eh?" His voice is husky, verging on impatient as you look over your shoulder, watching as he wraps a hand around the base of himself, most likely not the touch he'd liked as a frustrated rather than pleasurable grunt leaves him.

"I'm not, just fulfilling my promise", you say, wiggling the lipstick you'd fished out before returning to him.

Moving up the bed, you settle on your knees between John's muscular legs. Opening the case, your gaze locks with his as you coat your lips in a more noticeable red. The sight makes his cock twitch in his hand, his head notching backwards slightly, resting on his shoulder, without ever letting those blues leave you.

You shoo away his hand when you're done and throw your lipstick aside, your fingers wrapping around him instead. A pleased hum vibrates from John's chest as he relaxes backwards, head settling against the pillows.

Although promising not to tease, you press a few firm kisses to the lowest parts of his stomach, along his adonis belt and the area just above the cock you're pumping lazily with twisting motions, colouring his skin with red lip-marks.

When satisfied with your work, you finally slot your lips around him, the sudden heat of your mouth making John's cock jerk, one of his hands instinctually shooting to the back of your head with a drawn-out groan filling the air.

Despite usually building up to a swift pace gradually, pulling out the process to build his pleasure, you don't hesitate to overwhelm John with how you drop an inch or two down his cock immediately, tightly sealing your lips around his shaft, doing everything to leave those marks you'd promised around his cock.

"Fuck". John's hips jerk upwards, not expecting the suddenness of your actions, though he manages to stop the full thrust by slamming his head backwards, hand tightening considerably at the back of your head.

A smugness fills your chest as you pull back slightly, suckling the tip leaking precum, tongue swiping back and forth over his frenulum while your hand creates slow, circular rotations at his base.

Through the lowest corner of your eyes, you notice the red rings around his cock, yet you steadily look upwards, following how John's head rises again, eyes half-lidded as your gazes lock. But those blues don't meet yours for long before they fall, the twitch of him inside your mouth and the near growl telling you he also spots the stains left behind by your lipstick.

"Those pretty lips makin' such lovely marks 'round my cock". The sound of his voice is so rough and delicious that your cunt clenches around nothing. "Such a good girl, ain'tcha, love?" You release him with a pop, but rather than answer, you collect your spit on your tongue, stretching it out as your hand moves upwards. Letting the glob of spit hit his cockhead, you coat his saft in the slickness with a pumping motion.

"Fuckin' hell", John rasps, sounding almost pained as his eyelids flutter close, head falling backwards. Your smile is brief before you slot your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down half of his length, the rest squeezed and jerked by your hand.

"Suckin' me off s'good. Come on, deeper you go". He's not even looking at you as he speaks, his throaty words subdued into the air, almost as if he chokes on them halfway through. If anything, it makes you moan around him as you let the hand on the back of your head press you all the way down until he hits the back of your throat. "Jus' like that", he groans between clenched teeth.

As your tongue plays with the underside of his length and head bobs up and down, you feel him twitch violently inside your mouth, beefy thighs pressing against the side of yours, timbre-low sounds stemming from deep in his chest.

As John finally opens his eyes and looks down at you once more, always so transfixed with the way you desire to please him, he catches the faint glimmer of your jewellery behind the hand and mouth busy with his cock. The stones in the pendant glitter despite the room's dimness, the light from outside finding its way to make them gleam. What's remarkable is that your eyes harbour the shame glint.

Although heady with lust, your eyes are bright, excited, as your gaze meets his. The fact that you love this just as much as he does is enough to make him groan and tip his head backwards, wallowing in the pleasure creeping up his spine.

Only when a slurping noise fills the air as you suck purposefully and tongue plays the underside of his cockhead, does John's release hurtle dangerously close, and he pulls you off with a firm grip on your hair.

"I wasn't done".

"You're gonna be the death of me". That comment melts your stare into a smile.

"Don't die on me, handsome".

"C'mere". John's hand falls from your hair to grip your jaw, pulling you upwards. Your arms shoot to catch you, stabilising on either side of his body as he bends forward, crashing his lips against yours halfway.

It's dirty, your tongue slipping against John's as he pushes into your mouth, no doubt tasting himself on you. But it doesn't bother him, never has, not when it's on your lips that he tastes himself.

"You wet, love?" He groans against your lips before slanting his mouth against yours anew, your whined 'yes' going straight into his mouth. You unconsciously press your legs together, wiggling your hips, the motion along your forward-bent position exposing your drenched panties to the considerably cooler air. It urges another sound into the mesh of lips, a whine of discomfort this time.

"Bet you fuckin' are, love suckin' my cock".

A shudder runs down your whole back. "John-"

"Love bein' fucked even more, eh? Get on your back". The demand barely leaves his lips before you shift over his form, laying down just to the left of his previous position in the king-sized bed.

John moves between your legs, resting on his haunches as he pulls both your legs upwards, squeezing them together as he lets them rest against his chest. With a yank, he pulls your panties off your hips, the wetness on the crotch area dragging against the inside of your thighs as he tugs off the piece of fabric.

You don't know where they end up, wide eyes following John as he lets your legs down, pinning your thighs to the side, wasting no time before his hand slips over your cunt.

"Fuckin' soppin'", he drawls, confirming the answer you'd given him. "Can't wait to feel me stretch you out, can you?" His thumb runs down to your fluttering entrance, teasingly pushing against it. Before he goes any deeper, though, he collects some of your slick and trails his thumb to your clit.

He plays with your bundle of nerves just the way he knows you like. The pressure, speed, and everything he'd learnt about your body is now utilised to get you even more desperate, even wetter. And it works like a bloody charm too, your gasps soon turning to low moans and whines.

"C'mon, love, gotta be quiet", John shushes you, settling a hand over your throat, your necklace digging into his palm. He doesn't squeeze, simply rests it there to accentuate his point, and yet, he doesn't let up on playing with your clit, not even as your squirm, his thumb only chasing you through the movement. "Can't let everyone hear you, now can we?"

Even if you realise John deliberately must have kept his voice down as you blew him -because, of course, you're not at home- even if you try your damnedest, you can't contain your sounds of pleasure.

"Can't", you whine. John makes a deep sound, something between soothing and a snarl that makes your heart jump. Your eyes widen when his gaze darkens and he leans closer, all while his fingers apply more pressure on your clit, the pace quickening. As his face hovers over yours, your mouth falls open, letting out just one of those breathy moans he told you to hold.

"Can't, eh?" John releases your throat and leans back, but not enough to sit straight. Instead, he bends your legs forward and hooks his arm around your waist, manually flipping you over with a swift jerk. "That should do the trick".

It's a strength you know he possesses, but it makes you gasp in surprise anyway, the sound now muffled as your head is slotted in the crease between pillows.

Two big paws suddenly grab your asscheeks, groping the fat as you feel the man behind you lean over you just after widening your legs with his knees.

"Stunnin' fuckin' view from back here. This pretty arse-", John spanks your ass with one hand, making you keen, instinctually arching your back towards John. "- and your lovely cunt, just weepin' for me", the same hand that soothed the sting of his slap slide to your wetness.

You beg, a please moaned from your lips as he stretched you, barely any trouble going from one to two fingers with a few pumps. When he doesn't respond, you try again, louder, but only get a chuckle in return.

"Can't hear you, love". Amusement fills John's voice, making you frustratedly whine into the mattress before pushing a pillow to the side, raising your head only to crane it over your shoulder. Sitting behind you is an awfully smug-looking Brit.

"Please", you breathe the whisper, now mindful of your tone, which only widens his smile as he leans over your sprawled-out form.

The sudden prodding against your entrance comes without any warning, and you whip your head around to press into the mattress, muffling your moan so violently that John chuckles. But the sound swiftly deepens, evolving into a tight-lipped groan as he slowly pushes deeper.

Your back arches when his pelvis hits your backside, your motion prompting the slow grind of his hips against you. He doesn't even pull out, only rolls his hips shallowly against your rear.

All John can do is work his hips back and forth, listening to your faint moans slipping from the mattress your face rests against and the slick sounds of your pretty pussy being fucked.

When he leans his weight forward, hands gripping your hips, John shoves himself even further inside you, driving your face further into the bed. You practically sob, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

"Fuck, you feel s'good 'round me". The lewd way he said it, a groan breaking the sentence into two with the unhurried sound of skin slapping occasionally, had you choking on an affirming moan. "Makin' such a mess. Pretty cunt's so wet, stretched".

John stuffs his fat cock into you with slow, even thrusts from behind, watching how you grip him tight when he pulls out and sucks him in once he pushes forwards.

It's slow until it's not.

When John loses patience, or the pleasure simply gets too much for him not to chase more, he changes the pace, making the curve of your ass jiggle against his hips with each shove of his cock into your cunt. You push your face into the bedding as far as not choking yourself goes, moaning throatily as you clench around him.

He fills you so deliciously like this. Each firm press of his hips against your ass crams his entire girthy length into you as his balls push against your clit. The rocking motion fills the air with wet slaps that make your head spin and fingers curl into the covers.

You moan unabashedly as he fucks you. Deep and fast enough that he needs to angle your hips, but when you just keep sliding back prone against the bed from the force of his shoves, John simply leans over you with a growl, fucking you down into the bed.

Whining, you thrash your head at the way he pounds into your sweet spot buried so deep. With your mouth falling open, it's no surprise if saliva soaks the fabric beneath your face.

Your orgasm doesn't even build slowly. It's a tumbling mess that, once it starts, just picks up momentum until you hurl face-forwards into it. It's so violent it catches John off-guard. The sudden way you shudder with a broken moan, the muscle of your back tensing, walls clamping down on him, everything without him even having to play with your clit, tells him you were just as worked up and exhausted as him, not able to do anything but let the pressure release.

"Fuck", he curses, thick and dark, feeling you get even slicker and tremble beneath his fingers.

Even through your drunken haze, you catch the drawn-out vowel of the word, which tells you John's close.

What surprises you, however, is that rather than rut irregularly into you until he buries himself deep and comes, his hand shoots to rest beside your head to catch his weight when he falls forward, slipping out of you in the process. Leaving your fluttering aftershocks to clench around nothing.

You feel as John jerks himself, his knuckles brushing over your skin rapidly. His breath cascades over the back of your head, head probably hanging low between his shoulders as he gazes down your body. Albeit not knowing what he has in mind -his fixation on spilling deep inside you as he pushes himself as close as possible to you no secret- you arch your spine, wiggling your ass upwards.

It prompts a deep, growling moan from him before his breath does a little hitch, then he groans, pleased and drawn out as you feel his release shoot over your ass and then straight over your pussy.

The bed quivers beside your head, all strength momentarily escaping John's burly frame that slackens against your back. Although he slumps to his forearm to keep most of his weight off, his other hand resting on the bed near the dip of your waist, he still presses you considerably deeper into the mattress.

John's heaving exhales disturb your hair, but your eyes remain closed, your whole body feeling light and satisfied as you relax, fingers uncurling from the covers.

When the man behind you finally moves, you don't have the energy to rise and look at what he does when he grabs your cheeks in his big hands, massaging the plush flesh with parting motions. But, you can only imagine he stares at the white ropes of cum coating your rear, gaze dropping to follow the way it dribbles down over your cunt.

Even if John doesn't do it for long, a pleased hum fills the air before he stops.

His hands are suddenly replaced with something that swipes over your asscheek and down between your legs. Despite twitching at the contact as it moves along your sensitive core, you release an appreciative sound as he wipes you clean of your releases. John replies by bending forward, kissing your shoulder-blade before shifting off you with a last squeeze to your hip.

Despite feeling the mattress dip beside you, his form slumping to the side with a low grunt, you already miss his warmth.

You breathe heavily, your exhale bordering on a whine warming the covers your face is burrowed in. When your sound gets nothing in return, your breath out softly again, hand searching for John. Just as your hand lands upon his chest, you catch a chuckle before fingers wrap around your wrist. You're tugged sideways, pulled partly onto the chest you'd fumbled your way to feeling.

Although now looking down at John, you don't see much of him, your hair is mussed enough that most of your vision is covered. A giggle escapes you while a huff of amusement passes through John's nose as he brushes your face clear of its momentary shield.

"There she is", John hums when your gazes lock with nothing in between. There's a tug in the corner of his lip, eyes lidded as he watches you.

The tilt of his head and craning of his neck is slow. The kiss he initiates is equally deliberate and sweet. Although the exchange is brief, as he parts, John lingers close to your face with his forehead resting against yours, hand brushing over your cheek feathery light.

He murmurs something low enough you can't catch but hum in return nonetheless. A few seconds later, he rises from the bed. As he does, you move to your back, wiggling beneath the sheets to not experience the cold, knowing the sheet must be warmed thanks to your bodies. A content sigh leaves you when you realise you've been right.

As your gaze settles upon John's bare form, rifling around his bag for whatever he's searching for, you can't help how your eyes trail over him. That's how your eyes locate the faint red marks littering his body, some more smudged than others.

Your giggle catches John's attention as he shifts towards you, a pair of boxer briefs now in his hands. But rather than meet his gaze, your eyes flitter over his form, numerous outlines of red lips littered along his lower stomach and groin. Your laughter intensifies, and John follows your line of attention, only to tilt his head upwards again with a smile when he finds what caught your attention.

"You look real pretty with my lipstick all over you", you comment once your laugh fades, head tilting against the pillow behind your head, eyes locking with John's.

"Quiet the artist", he chuckles as he pulls on his underwear.

"It isn't waterproof, so you'll be able to wash it off with water".

"Think about makin' one of 'em into a tattoo". John points to one of the still near-perfect copies of your lips just inside his hipbone and above his waistband. "Make 'em permanent". His wink makes your mouth fall open.

"Please don't!" Your revolt makes him chuckle.

"What do I get if I don't?"

"Me only asking for a pair of pants and not a shirt along with them. And cuddles?" You stretch out your arms towards John with your offer. He huffs a laugh, moving to your bag to dig through it for your underwear.

"Never sayin' no to half-naked cuddles with you, love", you shake your head fondly just before the clothing article you requested is thrown your way.

As John rounds the bed, you lean forward to snatch your panties from the covers. You barely have enough time to slip them on before John, with practised ease, settles into the bed on his side and pulls you close, naked chests pressed against each other.

You sigh in contentment as John's warmth seeps into your body, arms winding around his neck to get closer and being able to graze your nails through the hair on the back of his head, which makes him pull you even closer in return.

The moment drags on as you card fingers through his hair. Every now and then, you feel the gel he'd cursed over as he styled it before the event, still intact at certain places despite the overall moussed state of his locks.

Somewhere along the way, a hefty, pleased sigh leaves the man holding you as his head burrows into your neck, nuzzling against the necklace still around your throat. Your eyes flutter close upon the rhythmic breaths puffing against your skin, melting more into John's burly body.

"You're awfully cuddly tonight", you hum but make no move to disturb the peaceful air by moving.

"Could say the same about you".

You chuckle at the response breathed against your skin. "Can never get too much of you". A set of warm lips press a kiss to your throat, making you hum contentedly before continuing to speak. "Especially not after tonight when everyone's been fighting for your attention".

There's a few seconds of silence and then a sigh.

"More people goin' to fight for it soon". Your brows pull together at the sudden shift of air when John emerges from your neck, blue eyes locking with yours. "Before introducin' you to Laswell, I got informed we're set out on a mission."

You sighed, nodding at his explanation. It was only about time. "When?

"A week, but it won't be a long one". You perk up at that, John noticing, a small smile tugging in the corner of his lips. "Estimated to be back home before Christmas".

"Yeah?" He hummed an affirmative. Your smile twitched just slightly wider, unable not to press a kiss to his lips. You felt his chuckle just before you parted from him.

"Someone's happy about that". John's brows arched, head tilting to the side.

"Just... didn't have much planned for Christmas this year, so I thought about maybe asking-", you got interrupted by his lips pressing against yours this time. The passion with which John kissed you made your chest flutter.

"Wanted you with me this weekend just in case you had somethin' in the calendar or I wasn't home", he breathed against your lip when putting some distance between the two of you again.

You bite your lower lip, brows raising. "John, are you saying you wanted to ask me about spending Christmas together too?"

"Didn't know if it was an awfully traditional period for you", he said, giving you a half-hearted shrug.

"How sweet of you". You cooed, pecking John's lips, earning yourself a content huff from the man cocooning you with his arms and body. "But I would've wanted to spend some time with you no matter what". As you said this, that handsome smile of John's unfolds as he pulls you on top of him. He released a deep chuckle at your slight squeal, only for both of your sounds to fade as he stared up at you and you down at him.

God, you couldn't wait until Christmas.

579 notes · View notes

hanlimz · 11 months

Text

[midnight thoughts: sunghoon + heart eyes]

pairing: park sunghoon x gn!reader genre/warnings: fluff ! very cute very suitable 4 all audiences ! / not proofread, povs might be a bit confusing?? it's written in 2nd person/3rd person omniscient but also in hoon's pov kinda?? idk ,, i hope that's able to be understood lolol <///3, also LOVESICK HOON <////3 wc: 0.8k (i could've written more but i liked where this ended) a/n: this goes out to all my hoon stans (ESP my hoon biased moots bc ik there's a lot of u MWAH ILY PLS ENJOY this is my apology for never interacting) / i feel like this is a bit different from my normal writing style so i hope this little ramble-y mess suffices !! <3

park sunghoon is sharp; the slope of his nose is precise and pointed, his skin is even and supple while still resembling a cool block of ice, and the fiery soul of a phoenix reborn from its ashes is hidden away behind his frigid gaze. but, when he's with you—an uncharacteristic spell of heat courses through his veins; the blood under his cheeks seems to boil as they turn an embarrassing shade of vermillion, and the mystic bird is freed as you unlock the cage he has built around his heart. the way you hold him in your hands is gentle, the way you touch him is kind, and the way you kiss him makes him weak.

when he's with you, park sunghoon allows himself the chance to be soft. he melts like the chocolate sandwiched between two cozy graham crackers; his brain turns to mush, his thoughts are blurred at the edges, and his bones feel a bit too much like jello. sunghoon doesn't bother to uphold his "cool guy" reputation when you're around because he knows you prefer the real him—the one that stumbles over his words after seeing you in his clothes, the one that can't make it through watching the titanic without bawling, the one who still tries to cook for you despite almost cutting his thumb off with a mandoline slicer.

a fool, but yours nonetheless.

however, in spite of all this pure adoration sunghoon harbors for you, he still can't manage to will those eight, little letters from his plush lips. they feel too small as they sit and marinate in his mouth; he turns them over with his tongue, running the muscle along each syllable and tasting the overly saccharine residue they leave behind. they're not enough, he thinks, they never will be.

so, until he finds the right words, sunghoon settles for quiet moments like these. a wall of storms is rolling in from the coast; through the open window in the dorm's living room, the refreshing scent of impending rain spreads throughout the space. soft bouts of rumbling thunder become white noise that is almost enough to lull him to sleep, and the weight of your head in his lap evokes a certain peace that settles over every inch of his body. as sunghoon runs his fingers through your hair, he giggles to himself each time you snore on the inhale. there's a patch of drool seeping into the fabric of his joggers, but he can't bring himself to care; to sunghoon, you are perfect—in every sense of the word.

in the darkness, sunghoon's phone illuminates your napping figure; squinting, he sees that the boys have messaged the group chat, but truthfully, sunghoon is far more concerned that the vibrations might startle you out of your slumber. glancing down at you once more, he picks up the device to take a quick look at the messages.

[jake] twenty dollars that hoon's ogling y/n when we get back

[heeseung] do u even have to bet?

[jay] yeah i feel like it's kind of a given at this point

[sunoo] i just hope they're not on the couch .. i'm trying to cast the barbie movie to the tv ://

[jungwon] good luck......where Else would they be??

[niki] as long as they're not sucking face idc.....

[me] ok gross ... we r not Sucking Face u Child y/n's asleep on the couch, so don't be too loud when u get back

[jake] BOOOOO GET A ROOM !!!!!

[sunoo] UGHHH why can't u guys be a cute couple somewhere ELSE??

[heeseung] hoon's too in love ... Obviously

[me] stay jealous losers <3

with a small flick of his thumb, sunghoon switches his phone to do not disturb and places it face down on the arm of the sofa. as he gazes down at you, his eyes are filled with an immeasurable amount of appreciation and fondness and gratitude. he finds solace in the sight of the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest; your deep breaths are a melodious sonata accompanied only by the sound of rain pattering against the living room window. sunghoon feels his heart pounding in his chest, and he thinks it's a bit silly just how much of an effect you manage to have on him. he sits with his thoughts, staring at the wall before him; sunghoon ponders heeseung's text, and comes to the conclusion that the elder boy is right.

sunghoon is in love—with you, to be specific.

however, he decides that he's the perfect amount of in love with you.

slowly, the calloused pads of sunghoon's fingers graze over the planes of your face, traveling down to the exposed skin of your shoulder. gently, he traces countless, miscellaneous shapes into your flesh, hoping you can feel each and every one of the triangles and diamonds and hearts in your dreams. tenderly, he tugs the blanket that had slipped down to the taper of your waist back up to your clasped hands. quietly, sunghoon prays to the gods and asks for the courage to voice his emotions, despite knowing that there is no rush—there never is. not with you.

and after a moment, softly, sunghoon tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and murmurs, "i love you. more than you'll ever know, i love you."

#; — cass writes: hoon #enhanet #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon reactions #enhypen #enha fluff #enha headcanons #enha imagines #enha reactions #sunghoon imagines #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n

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morallyinept · 25 days

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Hey Jett!!

This may be seen as an ask that’s not for many people aesthetic wise, but how do you think the Pedro boys would react to a Traditional Goth?

(Yknow, gorgeous girls like these two 🫶)

I totally get it if it isn’t your thing, but I adore your perspective on different scenarios! My curiosity always gets the best of me!

Love you! 🩶

Hey Lovely Leah! 🖤

Oooh, they are indeed stunning, wow! 😍

I love this Ask, because first and foremost, I myself am strange and unusual, hosting an inner Goth of my own! 🖤 (There's a reason why I use the black heart emoji all the time, bub...)

And I love thinking about the Pedro Boys and their reactions to a stunning Traditional Goth like these beauts. Kinda makes me wanna write a story about it too... 🤔 *wip list cries*

So, without further ado, here's my ramblings on it.

Enjoy & love you too! 🖤

Pedro Boys Rambles Masterlist

Rated slightly NSFW.

These are just my own head canons and are in no way verbatim. Your thoughts might differ and that's totally cool. 🙌🏻

Joel Miller - Joel would be captivated at first and he certainly won’t be turning a blind eye to the PVC ensemble. No, darlin'. He’s a red-blooded male after all and has a penchant for hosiery of the fishnet variety. Tears easy in his big hands... 🫠 But after a while, he’ll assume it’s a phase, and when he realises Goth is a 24/7 lifestyle and look here to stay, he’ll probably mumble and brood over whether he can continue a relationship with a stunning woman who is obsessed with coffins and decorating his home in crow taxidermy and skulls, and who also secretly kinda scares the crap outta him. Give Joel an apocalypse and he’ll flourish, but a gorgeous Traditional Goth? Just watch that hulk of a man lose it and turn to mush.

Frankie Morales - Frankie would be drawn to the mystique, I think. He’d be curious, ask gentle questions and try to sound like he knows what he's talking about. He doesn't. He lives in Florida, a mostly Hispanic scene without many pale Goths hanging around, at least not in his local neighbourhood anyhow. He’d be fascinated with the look, the way you do your make-up that strangely reminds him of Gene Simmons. But I don’t think Frankie would act on it or have the guts to approach you first. Not that he doesn’t find Goth attractive - he totally had a thing for Morticia Addams for a while in his youth and whacked off to her more times that he can count - but more so he worries that you won’t find him appealing because, you know, he’s not Goth himself. Que pink-tipped ears and soft baby cow eyes covered under the brim his cap whilst he dares not make eye contact with you as he shuffles past you in the bar.

Ezra - There isn’t a sex in the interplanetary that Ezra wouldn't find attractive and this gnarly space dude ain’t fussy. Opportunistic, as he’s been described, and I think Ezra would be all up in your Goth grill like digging frantically for Aurelac with his dirty fingers. He’d wanna hear that snap of the PVC against his huge palm as he slaps your ass whilst ploughing you. But not before he’s regaled you with the origins of where Goth began, "... The genesis of Gothic aesthetics traces back to the early 12th century in northern France, unfurling swiftly from its architectural cradle to permeate sculpture, textiles, and painting. From the intricate frescoes to the mesmerizing stained glass and the opulent glow of illuminated manuscripts, its tendrils extended far beyond. Although the contemporary scene burgeoned in the 1980s, fostered by fervent admirers of bands such as Siouxsie and the Banshees, Joy Division, and Bauhaus, Gothic rock’s dark allure finds its roots in the haunting elegance of Gothic art and architecture spanning the mid-12th to 16th centuries. Such is the enigmatic journey of Gothic sensibility, Birdie…”

Marcus Pike - Let’s not forget the genteel Agent Pike was in a band. Yes! Dark horse, right? Okay, so it wasn’t exactly metalcore and nor was he doing that death metal growl into a microphone, but he does love a good nod to a heavy rock anthem now and again. Marcus Pike would be hella intimidated by a Goth though. He’d stutter and stumble around his words whilst blushing and apologising profusely, and trying not to look at how tight your corset is… I imagine back in high school, there was a sweet Goth girl whom he secretly had a crush on, and I can imagine him spiking up his hair with tons of Dax Wax, and putting on a studded collar to try and win her round. And failing miserably… poor, baby has never been the same around Goths since.

Marcus Moreno - Despite his heroic strength, Marcus would crumble in front of a gorgeous Goth. Especially a really tall one. There’s something so alluring and mysterious about that dark aura that calls to him. Of course, he’s another who would be hella intimidated, but Marcus Moreno would still compliment your style and want to get to know more about you. Missy would think you’re super cool if he brought you home, and she’d be babbling excitedly as you paint her nails black with little silver moon decals, to which she’d excitedly show her dad. And if you can win Missy over, then mission accomplished. Her superhero dad will be absolute putty in your dark talons.

Oberyn Martell - Oberyn’s having a big, greedy serving of Goth. Now, there’s no Goths in the Seven Kingdoms, but that wouldn’t stop Oberyn being drawn explicitly to the dark enthral of your Victorian-style lace and silks. Sultry and sexy and he’d want to delight in all that a stunning creature has to offer him. Your look would stand out to him because it’s so different to anything he’s ever seen before. It would delight the Red Viper immensely, and he would thank the Gods in rapture as you let him slither himself all over you in his bed chambers. There's something so beautiful about the black and gold colours merging together...

Max Phillips - Our resident bloodsucker, the king of the dark himself, Max loves to chow down on a Goth. Or two. The more the merrier. Despite his fuckboi facade, Max is a creature of the dark. Nosferatu. Vampyr. Leech. Whatever, he dwells in the dark and a Goth would appeal to that side of him massively. And a Goth would easily be able to force Max into submission, for he’d do anything for a taste of that beautiful pale skin underneath. He’ll even share his coffin with you, baby.

Dieter Bravo - Dieter quite likes the thought of a Goth dominating the hell out of him. Yeah, he’s thought about it. A lot. He’d love a role in a Goth Vampire flick or something. It's all that creaky PVC and leather that does it for him. He’d love nothing more than to be your humble bitch for the night, letting you do whatever the Hell you want to him and leaving black lipstick smears all over his abused cock. And Dieter would be the one Pedro Boy out of them all who you could convince to dress fully Goth too. And I think that dude would totally rock it. Slicked back curls, long dark trench, studded boots… think the 2023 Met Gala look, but replace the Valentino reds with black, add some guyliner and black lipstick, and voila! There you have a Goth Dieter. You're welcome.

Dave York - Dave doesn’t understand the appeal, despite donning the all black get up himself on the regular when he’s out murderously stalking in the deep shadows of the night... But that doesn’t stop him peeking in on his hot Goth neighbour now and again through his periscope when he tells Carol he’s retreating to the study for a bit to work on a “case.” The case being his rock hard cock. Dave would have persued you already, but he's allergic to your black cats, Betelgeuse and Hannibal. Shame, as he's pretty sure he'd have a penchant for your other pussy...

Din Djarin - Din’s come across a lot of different looking species during his space travels, but never a beautiful Goth. I imagine this Tin Can Man would be absolutely rattling inside his Beskar armor at the discovery of a stunning, ethereal beauty boarding his Razor Crest and cooing at The Kid… there isn’t much that would topple this brute of a Mandalorian, but your thighs smooth and oil-like in that shiny PVC would pop that helmet off in an instant. (And we’re not talking about the one covering his face…)

Agent Whiskey - A traditional cowboy at heart, Whiskey very much has his roots and spurs buried deep in, well, tradition. And that don’t involve Goths, sugar. But, we all know Whiskey has that suave charm about him that would attract you like a magpie in want of something shiny. And Whiskey would absolutely reciprocate despite himself, complimenting your look, and would want to hear that whip of his snap back against the PVC that hugs your ass fantastically tight. Hoo, mama. You’re in for the ride of your life. "Are ya a witch, sugar? 'Cause I am sure under your spell..." Bless him, he's trying to woo you.

Lucien Flores - As a dramatic arts connoisseur, Lucien would have had his fair share of colourful and extravagant experiences, I reckon. And I envision him getting really close to his scene partner, who happens to be Goth outside of their costume, and he eagerly wants to explore what’s underneath that. He’s drawn to the dark, velvety shadow across your lids and wonders if he can get it all smeared down your cheeks as you gag and choke on him. And you’re absolutely gagging for his gold chains to whack you in the face. Eventually, the two worlds collide.

Maxwell Lord - Max is attracted to fierce women, and looking at you in your dark ensemble, your raven-esque hair and looking like you could make all his dreams come true with one simple wish, it’s not hard to revel in Max falling to his knees in subjugation of you and licking your spiked, platform boot.

Javier Peña - You’d get the famous Peña arched brow side-eye. Goths don’t really do it for Javi and his more conservative, yet somewhat out of date, taste. That being said, if he arrived at the brothel and you were offering your dark services, swathed in tight black lace and leather buckles, do you think he’d turn you down? The answer is no, cariño.

Javi Gutierrez - Javi would be super fascinated and want to know all about your interests and look. He’d be the kind to sit and stare at you longingly as you apply your eyeliner, which is an art in itself, and get really excited by your choice of outfit. He’d want to do the whole cliché thing of casting spells and doing a seance too. He’d totally get into it all before you educate him entirely on all things Goth. And sure, there would be a lot of candles, but it won't be to summon the dead. Although, Javi will sure feel like Lazurus rising the next morning, smiling and giggly because you rocked his fucking world, and he's totally bewitched by you.

Tim Rockford - The closest Tim has come to anything Goth is when he busted one once. And he’d much prefer to see your pretty face underneath all that dark make-up. I imagine Tim being a less-is-more kind of man, and while he’d gently clean your face free of the eyeliner and white powder, and peel you out of your dark clothes, he’d take his sweet time in doing it.

Dio Morrissey - Our resident Pedro Boy Goth is already in the house! But if Dio ever met a Traditional Goth, he’d shit his damn pants. Whilst he paints himself to be above the drones and seeking a higher ascension with his arrogant God complex, this lil’ sucker would fall to his knees in complete submission whilst you laugh at the whimpering mess he makes beneath you.

🖤

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babybluebex · 2 years

Note

eddie making you drink all kinds of water and pressing on your tummy as he fucks you 😵‍💫

grumble grumble i'm mad at you

warnings for piss kink, impact play, humiliation kink, slight dubcon, daddy kink , dacryphilia

"I-I can't hold it!"

"You better hold it, sweetheart," Eddie told you, one hand grabbing your ass hard as the other presses down on your tummy. All day, he had been making you drink water, and now that he was fucking you, it was becoming harder and harder to hold it in. You had done your whimpering and crying and begging, and now he was playing a game with you, telling you to hold it while actively trying to make you go. "You don't wanna see Daddy angry, do you?"

"Eddie!" your protests were becoming panicked now, feeling the tingling in your lower belly that only meant one thing. "Please, Eddie, I'm gonna— Please, let me up!"

He was fucking you hard now, his balls slapping your sticky cunt with each thrust. You could almost feel his cock in your throat with how deep he was inside you, and those ringed fingers only pressed harder down on your belly.

"I'm almost done, princess," Eddie grumbled through gritted teeth, huffing with exertion as he fucked you. His hand on your waist fell below your belly, and his skilled fingers started to play with your clit. True, you were getting pleasure from him fucking you— his cock drove into that special nerve inside you with almost every thrust, and your legs were already shaking with how close you were to cumming— and your back arched as a wrecked moan left your mouth.

"You fuckin' better hold it in," Eddie told you. "If you piss on my cock, I'll belt your pretty ass."

"Eddie," you hiccuped, and a flash of heat rocked through your whole body fizzling in your toes and brain. Eddie's fingers roughly circled your clit now, turning your pretty brain to mush, and you grabbed him by the hair and tugged as you sobbed. "Eddie, I'm gonna—"

"You gonna cum?" Eddie asked with a condescending chuckle. "Or do you gotta go?"

"Both!" you cried.

"C'mon, baby," he said, gnashing his teeth as his thrusts became slower but harder. It almost felt like a punishment, the way he was fucking you. "You can do it, fucking let go, c'mon, princess."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt that tingle again, and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as you let go, gushing all over his cock. Your tears fell as you felt the relief spread through your body, like being dunked in a warm bath, and you felt Eddie's tongue press against your cheek and lick up your tears. "Oh, baby, the tears," Eddie pouted with a snicker. "You're gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard."

Suddenly, Eddie pulled out of you, and he grabbed your chin in your hand, cutting off your whine from the sudden emptiness in your pussy. "But I said that if you pissed on me, you'd get belted," he told you, his dark eyes narrow and serious. "Turn over, dumb little thing, show me your ass."

Your legs shook as you turned yourself onto your belly, and he hooked a hand on your hip and tugged your ass up into the air. "You'll only get five," Eddie told you, grabbing his discarded jeans and slipping the belt from its place in the loops. "'Cause you looked so cute when you did it."

The first crack of his belt on your ass made your fingers curl in the bedsheets. The white-hot sting was terrible, but your pussy clenched hard around nothing. "Look at that," Eddie laughed. "You're getting off on this, huh? Little whore." He emphasized it with the second hit of his belt, along with a quick third, and you finally whimpered.

"Fuck, Daddy," you mewled, arching back into his grip, and his hand came to lightly touch your thrumming and hot skin. His cool rings made you jump, and you moaned at the relief it brought your raw skin.

"Two more, angel," Eddie told you, rubbing your ass soothingly. "Then I've got a surprise for you."

"Yeah?" you managed weakly.

The fourth came without warning, and you cried in pain. One more felt excruciating, but a warmth flooded your chest at Eddie's words: "You can lick up your piss from my balls."

The fifth strike came, the sound of the faux-leather hitting your skin music to Eddie's ears, and you quickly got up on quivering legs and instantly knelt on the ground in front of him. Your cool heels touched your ass as you sat back and eagerly watched Eddie jerk himself off, and your hands went to his hairy thighs as you sank your mouth around one of his thick and heavy balls.

His cock jumped and throbbed at the feel of your lips, and Eddie's free hand shot out to grab you by your hair. "Good fuckin' girl," he moaned low in his chest as you suckled at his ball, savoring the taste of his skin. "Such a slut for me, aren't you?"

#nobody look at me #bex answers #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #tw piss #piss kink #i'm so ashamed of this #grey 💍#bex’s drabbles

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bearw-me · 2 months

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Lute x really flexible/gymnast fem reader with toned abs and legs that she's a little insecure about?

ORRRRR

Idk if you watch helluva boss, but: Lute reacting to her gf snapping a neck/suffocating a demon with her thighs like Millie did to that agent?

Your choice!!! (You might be able to combine these, idk)

i do watch helluva boss! blitzo's probably my spirit animal lmao. So i decided to do both! ( your request also strikes a nerve that may or may not include milly + moxxie )

𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐆𝐲𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫!

𐐒 includes : lute x fem!reader 𐐒 cw : fluff, hurt/comfort, swearing, lute struggles to be soft, suggestive 𐐒 summary : Lute can tell somethings up with you, she just has to confront you 𐐒 word count : 757 𐐒 note : hcs i wrote at the start of this are included! loved working on this request it just took some time to get out p e r f e c t l y ~

The lieutenant picks a spot next to you on a cool cloud, her black wings folding in on themselves firmly.

"Hey," she starts.

"Hey," you repeat.

And the way she stares at you make you feel like she knows somethings wrong. That classic, sharp stare of hers. It makes you shrink a bit more into yourself, hiding parts of your skin from her as if they were wounded.

Lute looks ahead, mushing the cumulus under her hands as she stares ahead towards the training grounds. You had been watching her train. . . but only watching.

"So, you aren't going to train anymore? You know I-. . ." Lute catches her voice with a hiss. Its so incredibly hard and so awkward for her to get her words out.

WHY

You watch with a little smile as she rips two little chunks of clouds out. Gripping them tightly against her face in frustration.

If she were scolding her army, or telling Adam to watch his mouth, this would be so, easy! But. . . she was talking to you. Her girlfriend, and she knew something was wrong.

Getting there, to that honest softness inside her was- fucking hard!- but she had to try.

With a new found determination, she turned her whole body towards you, eyebrows hardened into a flat line.

"I love you," Lute sat forward, letting her warm hands rest on your legs, "and I want you to tell me what's bothering you. . . You know you can tell me anything. I can handle it." She offered a reassuring smile.

With a shaky sigh, you turned to face her, watching as the dark angel now took your hands in hers, rubbing little circles into your skin. It felt like a barbed wire was clutching at your throat, nerves clamping around your heart.

Maybe she'd think its stupid.

With a long, shaky breath, your lips parted in soft confession.

"I'm just not feeling that confident in. . . in how I look," your tone broke from the weight of the truth, head falling with shame.

Lute let her grip slip of your grasp, the pair of pale hands cupping your face instead, insisting that you looked up at her.

Your eyes popped open with surprise.

The way she was looking at you: her golden eyes held an unspeakable softness to them, edged with those dark lashes that made her intimidating. . .

She's only ever looked at you like that.

And now, there was a little patch of scarlet blooming across the bridge of her nose. The sexiest blush that made your heart speed up.

"So that's why you didn't want to train huh?" Lute tsked you, wiping tears from your eyes you didn't know you had with her thumbs. "You remember that sinner I saw you kill?"

It was your turn to blush this time. Vaguely remembering that guys neck you snapped with your legs. "Oh god," you mumble, trying to hide and squirm from her hands.

"Hey!" Lute laughs, pulling you closer into her lap.

God she's strong.

She lifted your legs over hers, motioning for you to put your arms over her shoulders whilst she nestled hers around your waist. The dark feathers of her wings expanding like a protective wall around her back to yours.

Honesty is a virtue, she reminds herself.

"Seeing you kill that sinner was- literally the sexiest thing I've ever witnessed."

"Lute!"

She laughs, giving your middle a firm squeeze "You're the sexiest thing in heaven, and there's not one thing about you body that I don't worship." This time, she sighs, glancing you shamelessly up and down.

"Gods, I'm horrible at this. . ." Lute lets her head plop into your shoulder, glancing up at you in order to gauge your reaction.

"I love you, and its for a lot of reasons," she mumbles, straightening up in your arms. So close you can feel her breath on your lips. "Just don't forget that."

Lute biting her lip until it bleeds

physical affection all the way with your body (she'd have trouble taking her hands off you when no one else is around)

And to put it simply, she may not tell you all the time that she adores your body, but she definitely shows it

supports you in anyway and always shows up to watch you during practice or competitions (on that note she'd be the one cheering the loudest for you)

she's super proud to be your girlfriend / call you hers

squish her head like a watermelon whattt

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grapejuicestyless · 1 year

Text

You Are In Love

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Summery: The one where Harry's going away on tour and promised y/n a souvenir.

(Not my GIF)

Waking up was my favorite part of my day, or it had grown to be.

The moon had never shinned so bright in the foggy London winters, nor had it ever seeped so deep through my skin, tickling the buds I could feel the warmth spread. It had never stretched so far to reach my eyes, peeling the heavy blanket laying peacefully over them late Friday evening. No, it had never really gotten that far before. Never that intense, but here I was, feeling the total contentedness of it all, wrapping my body in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, feeling totally at peace I let the clock tick by rhythmically.

My eyes rid themselves of their sleep, clear as day I saw everything in high definition, the walls paint shining off the cracked beams of light, the curtains swaying so elegantly against the wind, the dust laying a thin coat across the warm toned floors, a homely sense to it all.

But trailing around the room, my eyes met to my right, silky h/c roots draped messily over the wrinkled pillow cover. Her skin was porcelain in the snowy downfall, cool breeze sneaking up on her pores, little bumps and chills shivering down her spine quickly and so smoothly it nearly looked like she had only shifted positions. Her lips jutted outwards, little puffs of air escaping freely past her lips, brows furrowed together intently, focused on her one track pace in her beautiful mind.

I couldn't help it when I reached up, thumb placed between her brows to smooth out the creases, watching with such deep focus as her features softened and her intense focus bubbled over into a dozy huff escaping in salty morning breath, I winced. Yet she laid perfectly still, cuddled up against her pillow, holding it tightly, attached to the cottony whiteness stuffed between her fingers.

My eyes traced her features from afar, face surely mush by now. My lips were upturned, cheeks round and rosy, eyes scrunched and gleaming, relaxed and shifting to inspect her. I looked at her adorningly, admiring every inch of her face, how her lips sucked into lick the dryness covering them. Absolutely infatuated with the simplest things she did with no memory of even knowing she'd done it. Hopelessly devoted to the girl, I watched sleepily, besotted over everything in that memory I held close, a snow day for us, I felt awestruck and love sick. Doting over her, I ignored how her hot breath tickled my neck, or how her knee had pressed up so tight against my thigh I broke a sweat between our heated bodies. I barely noticed how her baby hairs stuck to her forehead in curls or how her eyes leaked with the mornings tears for no reason, bottling up nothing but the wetness they held comfortably all day. Barely even saw how her lips parted again, drool stringing onto the pillow. Everything about her felt like I home, I looked to her for home.

One look, dark room Meant just for you

Maybe that's why I couldn't help but hold the sigh falling between my lips, or how the air came out too quick or harsh, blowing against the curl in her eyelashes. Maybe that's why her eyes dared open this late, and I'd forever blame myself for not turning away for even a moment, admiring her for a little longer, quieter, softer. Something so magnetic drew my gaze to her, making the bonds too heavy against my iris I couldn't force myself to look away while she laid in front of me so peacefully. But I would never forgive myself for ruining that moment I got with her without her even knowing, a stolen memory.

Time moved too fast You play it back

"H..?" She mumbled, eyes barely open, they fell closed against in a blink. One long blink, she licked her lips again, head lifting shakily against the weight of her feeble arms.

"Sorry lovie, didn't mean to wake you." My hand laid perched under my ear, head leaned into its side, a pocket formed between my palm and untamed curls.

I took my left hand again, raising it flatly against her forehead I laid her down gently into the mattress, her eyelashes fluttering shut with the spreading warmth from my fingertips, nails dug into her hairline carefully I praised her with a relieving scratch to her scalp.

"Harry, hun, why are you up this late? You need your rest, big day tomorrow." She coaxed me into her arms with her words, body leaning over to her chest, I rested my head in her hands, looking into her eyes body hovering far enough to only feel a sliver of heat come off of her tangled body beneath me. Her hands tangling through the dark sea of chestnut browns and golds swirling like cinnamon, sweet and strong.

I sighed contently against the smell of her lingering perfume, vanilla pastries and fresh strawberries mixing with my borrowed body wash that we now shared, soapy bubbles of dove tracing her skin delicately with the clean smell against her sensitive skin.

"Couldn't sleep. Just, can't stop admiring how peaceful you are. So beautiful against the moon it's unreal." I flirted, though, every word came off more as a confession than a flirtatious move.

She smiled though, she smiled tiredly, drooping eyes staring back at mine with so much admiration and appreciation, her hands removed themselves from the patterns of swirls and rubs against my scalp and stretched outwards, inviting me silently, an offer to become closer, body pressed to body I couldn't decline.

"Silly boy waking up a silly girl. Now bot of us are awake, wide awake." She added lastly, yawning and stretching out around my body, we lay tangled in each others limbs.

And the room fell silent, comfortable silence, I let my breathing stop, forced it to stop. Only to match my breaths to hers. Silly, I felt it, but it made me feel so much closer with just a simple action. And so we breathed, heart to head, breath to breath, her eyes looking down on me, I could feel it.

"Harry?" She whispered softly, shaking my body gently against her ribs.

"Hm?" I hummed contently.

"Lets go out." She spoke softly, almost unsure of her words.

"Okay." I agreed, barely moving.

So we stood at the door, bundling up for the snow, she hadn't brought a coat, insisting she didn't need one, I knew she did. I knew how the bitterness would eat her up, nip at her nose, turning a vibrant pink, hurt the lobes of her ears and the back of her throat, and I only wanted to keep her safe. Or that's what I told myself. No, I was truly selfish, thriving off of being, feeling close to her, her arms hanging short in the sleeves of my long coat. She struggled with the buttons, much like me, but I would never admit it; bulky and stiff against the thick fabric, I couldn't help but suppress a laugh at her efforts.

"Need some help buttoning up that prom dress of yours, hm?" I teased at the length, down to her knees, just a bit longer than where it fell at my thighs.

Buttons on a coat Light-hearted joke

"Shove it." She pointed towards me, a warning of a million deaths, shooting ice at my heart, only to melt it with the smile that followed and for a second in that smile. The very same smile that held a million hearts, a million frowns, millions of possible lovers, but she was with me. The same smile that made her cheeks perk up a the slightest angle out, like mine, made the skin gathered with freckles crinkle into a thin line, made her cheeks fluster a redish-pink. The smile I loved. And for a moment in that smile I felt something more behind it. Something growing, a warmth, a fuzz, some connection that grew nothing more than an unspoken agreement between the two of us.

No proof, not much But you saw enough

The car fell quiet, soft humming like a melody in my ears from the rocks beneath the sleek blackness of it all. The moon was out, shining still just a bright down on me, if not even brighter on her. My eyes drawn to her complexion, enraptured in how perfect she always looked through his eyes. How even the hip dips and the bloating couldn't look bad on her. No, it never did. Nothing ever did, she looked stunning, a perfect painting from Van Gogh, brush strokes so small, even close up you couldn't see them. So detailed, so hyper-realistic, so easy to study.

But her voice, her voice was so sweet. Each syllable dripped like honey past her plush pink lips, so sickeningly sugared I licked my lips every time my name fell past them.

"So, where are we off too? Just driving or..?" I spoke clearly, graininess and rasp leaking with the tiredness in my throat.

"I dunno'. Coffee could be nice." There it was, dripping from the wand, plunging and scooping out handfuls of smoothness into the air, I could taste its syrupy contents. The honey that came from her voice soothing my aching ears.

"Coffee?" I repeated back, lacking the melody she had in each line she spoke. I turned my head to face her, eyes repeating the short motion of looking to her.

"Could be nice. You know, since you woke me up I don't see a point in sleeping anymore, do you?" She testified, pleading her innocence to me. She looked at me so sweetly, so gently, so homely, my bones turned to jelly.

"Sure. Sounds sweet."

Small talk, he drives Coffee at midnight

"One large black coffee and uhm..." I looked over to the girl on the window, palm pressed to her cheek, she leaned further into the window, forehead pressed against the coolness of the glass.

"Actually can I get two?" I corrected myself, lips tugging upwards, I melt again, a puddle at her feet, a rope tied tightly around her finger, yet she didn't know. She never would, never could. She had so much power over me, so much and I adored every moment of it. Every second she was with me was something I held close, and this moment didn't weigh any less than the rest, something fresh to doddle over while she was away from my touch, my love.

The crackling of the speaker pulled me from my winding thoughts, my trance shaken off, not far forgotten yet, I held the wheel firmly to get closer to the sliding windows, plastered with tired smiles and friendly faces.

Still, I looked over to her every so often, making sure she was okay, just for a bit, she rested very still, breathing controlled and steady, she laid on the brink of sleep and consciousness. The drowsiness had lumped her shoulders, relaxing her muscles; she wavered from side to side with each little bump and movement. She almost fell, fell deeply into a sleep to be woken up from, from a sudden stop at a stop light.

The coffee scent burned her nose, I could see it. I could see how it scrunched and shifted under her furrowed brows, I smiled through the rear view, tapping my fingers on the wheel delicately.

"You weren't planning on sleeping, were you?" She asks delicately, as if I'll break though I know I'm so far from it. So desperately, madly, suffocatingly content with everything in this moment, I knew how the sheepish smiles I gave her looked. Scared, restless, sad maybe. But maybe I was just tired, or maybe it was her because I knew I had only been looking at her with admiration all night. Looking at her like the last sight I'd ever see before going blind. Seeing nothing but her in my memory.

"Hm?" I hum back, peering over my shoulder to see her body stretched across the middle consul, resting her chin in the curl of her fingers, slowly rubbing her chin, thinking.

"You never took your rings off. You never wear those to bed, I know it. I've seen you try to sleep with them on, stresses you out too much you told me." She motioned towards the bright crimson red radiating off the golds and silvers of my rings, the shine of the expensive bands wrapped tightly around my fingers, sliding on and off my like butter. She motioned towards the repeating tune, fingers tapping at the black fabric covering the wheel, thumbs rubbing up and down the leather leisurely.

"Oh. No, I must have forgot." I scratched my brain mentally, wondering if I really did plan to sleep tonight. I wondered if she hadn't woke up, would I have been able to pull myself from my state of conscious dreaming, eyes glued to her.

She laughed, I know she laughed, I heard it clear as day and my heart flipped. I felt all funny, hearing the breathy chuckles directed at my mindlessness, carelessness. I raised a brow, smirking in confusion, though I didn't seek an answer for her entertainment with my answer.

"I don't think I've ever seen you forget before, except once. Always tossing and turning. You get so restless with them on, its like its own reminder." She breathed out.

"Oh, really?" I countered, side eyeing her just a few times while our conversation carried.

"Positive." She looked to me, the road becoming nothing but a distant memory while I looked to her for a stolen second of her time.

The light reflects The chain on your neck He says, "Look up"

"You know," She started, "I still remember the first time I slept over, first time after we'd moved in." She sighed happily.

"You were so restless, I thought you were uncomfortable around me, being so close in a home to call ours for once. I got so nervous, I couldn't sleep that night knowing you had been sleeping like shit." She looked into my eyes, lulling me in under her spell.

"Sorry love, didn't mean to startle you, I had no idea, really." She brushed my concern off, picking back up her smile to continue her perspective of that night, a memory she held close, a memory of us, I was so infatuated with the way she remembered it so clearly I almost missed how she called it our home. Ours, like we were more than just a couple of kids who dated for a couple months then moved in. More than just a pair of twenty year old's with dreams too big for the both of them.

"God, I remember it so vividly now. You, you looked like a mess. I remember thinking how pretty you looked still, how I envied how perfect you were even in a state of lousiness. You-you had woken up with such tired eyes and a droopy frown. You had scooped me up so tight I couldn't breathe, I remember it, I adored it. I found it so cute how clingy you were to me, my back pressed against yours. I was sweating but you wouldn't let me move. So I started to twist the rings on your fingers, back and forth and you shot up. You sat up so quickly and practically ripped the rings off of your fingers, eyes blown wide. You made this whole speech about how stupid you felt too not have know. I found it so funny. You were so frustrated the whole day and slept right through your alarms the next morning." She though back on the memory, grinning from ear to ear, hiding behind her hand shyly.

"I remember that. I was so stressed when I woke up, almost forgot my shoes out the door." I joined her, reminiscing over the memory just as she had been.

"Didn't have the heart to wake you. You looked so at peace I didn't want to ruin it. I could only watch the clock from afar, listening to your snoring." She admitted honestly, and I could tell. Everything about her was honest, I liked that about her. Loved it even.

I smiled at her consideration.

"Well, thank you." I joked.

"You're welcome." She tilted her head, craning her neck back to meet her eyes with mine, eyelashes hanging low over her bright eyes.

Stopping at a stop sign briefly, I took the moment to lean down, eyelashes tickling mine, she pulled me in close by her cool red fingers, taking my chin between her hands and pressing a delicate kiss to her warm lips, spreading a wildfire through my body, it traveled down my spine and back up. I had never felt more loved, or happy to have forgotten my rings. So caught up, I almost didn't pull away.

But her lips tugging on mine, teeth caught between the glossy skin pulled me from my thoughts, and my eyes opened slowly. The first thing I saw were those sleepy eyes, those tired eyes I fell totally head over heels for. The eyes that could mend every promise or break them. And I felt nothing but pure bliss and comfort for it. For everything she'd done in that moment. For kissing me when I didn't ask for it, for no reason even. And I felt loved.

And your shoulders brush No proof, one touch But you felt enough

Driving home, coffee warmed the back of my hand, pressed delicately against the dorsal side, my fingers curled gently around hers, a strong hold squeezing them between the cracks, forced to intertwine them by only ourselves. I held her there, upright with my grip while she continued to doze off, eyes growing tired and sleepy again, we didn't speak a word but instead relished in the perfect silence spread between us. The melodic puffs of breath escaping past her lips in an even, slow pattern. She began to sink further into the black indents of the slippery leather seats, a shining string falling from the corner of her settled face. Her seatbelt tugged on her chest, holding her in place desperately, hair pushing up against her neck, her eyelashes batted open again.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

"Almost home, love." I assured her dozy conscious, knowing more would be too hard to translate into more than a jumble of words put together, so she only nodded, feeling the wave of exhaustion taking over her, only rambles being formed.

Still, she wiped the corner of her mouth of the thin trail of drool, letting it shine while it dried slowly on her skin, settling it down by the crook of her thumb that rested now, against the apple of her cheek. Her palm pushed against her skin, letting it tug up with a push to the rise of her brow. Her hand found its way to her lap again, sleep covering the pinks of her hazy eyes she took her dry hand, snaking it above my hand gripping the gear shifter. I watched her unsteadily tether our hands together, holding my heart with an invisible sting with each brush against the whites of my knuckles.

Smiling to myself, I kept my eyes on the road the best I could, the wildness encaptured in the greens of mine reflecting off of her capturing e/c ones. My hand slipped away from the sun-swallowing gear shifter, the creases in the warmth of my palm holding the cool pinkness of her skin so delicately in my never loosening grasp. I smoothed over the creasing on her knuckles, thumb tracing the tiny hairs settled on top of her skin, my lips pressed against the backs of her fingers, curling so tightly around the bend of my fingers, the faint mark of the gesture stuck to her skin like a temporary tattoo applied to her skin.

And she held it there, just like that, hand wavering with every bump, I felt her eyes land on the outline of my face, our voices silenced by nothing and everything at once. I watched her watch me from what felt like a distance, and I felt her hold me, enjoy this moment. Enjoy us.

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

The blow away gravel from the wind had crumbled and rumbled under the rubber of the wheels as we pulled in, the car falling again, silent except for the muffled sounds of her staggering breaths in an attempt to warm her skin and the sipping of the stinging coffee. Hers was almost gone by now, mine untouched, hand remained in its place against my lips for the whole ride I didn't dare to remove her touch I had longed for while I had been admiring her all night through the beginning of the morning, the blackness of the early morning filling the space around us with a spotlight of moon dancing across her skin. I had never been more thankful to had been swallowed by the dull dark, the blush heating my face in a rush of heated pinks and reds. The moon painted her like Da Vinci, hair falling around her hunched over shoulders, legs bent up in a crossed position against the seat and my jacket, my jacket I wish I had now, the goosebumps rising on my skin from the heartless coolness of the London winter, I watched her body become engulfed in the largeness of the thick article, fingers peaking out of the sleeve, the other bunched up to hold her hand in mine.

"Home sweet home." She whispered to me, the look on her face endearing and genuine. It was like the dark circles pulling at her eyelids didn't bother her at all. All she cared about, all she focused on was studying the way my expression changed, she lowered her hand from my face and let it fall to see how my lips curled at each word she spoke. Each word dripping with honey as she spoke with silk and velvetiness it played like a new lyric with each sentence. I sighed deeply, looking back to the now dark garage, headlights dimmed to a dark death, the shine of the buttons of the car gone, the rumble or the engine silenced. The car came to a stop. I was home.

"Our home." I whispered back, looking over to her, our eyes met and all I could want to do was admire her just like earlier in the evening. From when she laid there, sleeping peacefully as little puffs of air fell past her lips with each appreciative sigh for her tired eyes, moon beaming down on her cheeks, highlighting her dimples and apples on her face. How her face scrunched, casting shadows along her soft skin. Now, the moon shined just as bright on her, if not even brighter. Her lips did not push out sighs, but instead curled into warm smiles and toothy grins. Her skin remained creaseless, shadows dancing carefully around her frame, moonlight admiring her silently, for our eyes to share.

You are in love, true love

I watched her slip up the stairs silently, afraid to make any sound too loud in the silence of the house. Nobody was disturbed in her presence, figure slipping between the creaky stairs and sinking into the plush carpet scattering between the creases in her socks. And I watched her slump further into herself so peacefully, lulling herself into a daze between sleep and restlessness. The coffee stung her tongue now I could tell, observing how carefully timed each time she jutted her lips out in a soft pout, lines forming delicately on her youthful skin, they bounced off as her tongue would push past the barrier of her raw lips, bitten away by the crisp cool air.

Her eyes pulled down just a little bit further, sleep gathering in every pocket between her eyes and the deepening hood she covered the dimming light with, blacks turning purple and purple to a deep blue resting faintly into her sunken bags. I watched her hands tug at the corners of her eyes in an attempt to rub away the sleep gathering. And I watched her fingers slip under her curled lashes, sweeping them away for a moment to brush away the crusting pieces holding her down from the darkened hallway, a siren luring her into the messed about sheets.

She sat in the bed, tucked away in a ball on top of the covers still wrapped tightly into my large jacket, pockets serving a home for her trembling hands. She was tired, kept up for far too long but fighting her drooping eyes and lazy smile was the caffeine she'd sipped slowly on just moments ago.

Smiling I reached for her elbows, my large hands hooking around her much smaller elbows and lifting her hands free from the coat to free her body of the outside smell and cool breeze lingering in the material. A chuckle left her mouth, smile wide and dazed as her eyes searched mine. My fingers working against those stubborn buttons, I was determined to hold her eye contact to mine do matter how much longer this took.

Finally the last button slipped through the hole almost too small for it and the coat slipped from her shoulders leaving her arms bare once again. The air stilled around her, cool air not to be found anymore, she felt confident in throwing the clothing on the floor for tomorrow, sure enough she wouldn't need it any longer tonight. She patted at the bed next to her, allowing me to crawl up next to her with my knuckles popping softly at the pressure. She grimaced and stuck out her tongue, silently begging me to please stop making that sound.

"Come on H, don't ruin it now. Just got us back into bed." She smiled, allowing herself to become engulfed in my arms as I pulled her frame into mine with everything I could. her cheek pressed against my shoulder and her feet curled under themselves, digging into the mattress as we stared off into the room, admiring the home we'd made.

"What time do you leave tomorrow?" Her question hung in the silent air, breaking it in half. I felt slightly tensed at the question. A reminder of everything he tried to prolong.

"What time do you want me to leave?" I tried.

"Never. Oh, never!" She pushed against my body, folding us backwards until our backs hit the mattress and all that was left was out hands intertwined. We stared at the ceiling, lips curled into a gentle smile. barely there, but presenting itself enough to see it even in the half lit room. She huffed out a breath.

"Be serious with me, H. How long?" She tried again, wanting the truth, the answer she dreaded.

I pondered my answer for a moment, not wanting to ruin what was built around us in the moment. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I swallowed nothing but dryness.

"My flight leaves at 7. Should be out of the house at 5:30, hopefully." The words were direct. The answer she wanted, but wish she didn't. I saw her nod her head out of the corner of my eyes, her lips twitching into a frown but quickly holding a smile again, smaller but upturned still.

"But you'll be back, right? We'll make it through this?" She was turned to me now. My attention pulled from the roof to her eyes. they were watery, much more leaky than before but I wouldn't point it out, nor would I point out the shakiness of her voice and the fear from her tone. It would embarrass her more.

"Always." I promised. She smiled at that. Bigger than before and she trusted me. She believed it, allowing herself to rest her head closer to me that before, hair scattered across my chest messily as her eyes finally closed.

"Always." She repeated, holding it close as her breathing steadied.

How could she even question it? She was the only one I ever wanted to spend my nights watching from the same bed. Who else would request coffee at such late hours of the night, technically day by this point. No, no one else could even hold a small amount to how cute she looked in my clothes, or how she made my heart swell by just being in the same room. She was the only one I had been able to promise this to, anyways. I was always left unsure before tour. I can always tell someone something, but it would never last very long. I was never sure if I was truly meaning what I was saying. Everything ended and I was lifted out of my heart broken state in weeks. But her, I was sure we would work. If she ever even mentioned how cold the bed was without me to fill the space beside her curled up body I would fly the damn plane home myself to hold her myself. I would walk the ends of the earth to see her happy and I couldn't be more sure of the fact that I didn't want to lose her. I couldn't.

Morning, his place Burnt toast, Sunday You keep his shirt He keeps his word And for once you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

The next day came too quickly. Way too quickly for what I wanted. Secretly I hoped that it would be endless and we could stay cocooned together for longer. Just holding each other and whispering little jokes and promises to each other. She fell asleep in my arms where she laid when our promises were made. Her head on my chest and her arms draped around my ribs while I held her close on her side against me. Her soft snores broke out every so often when it got too hot or too stuffy and she would stop to wiggle her nose subconsciously. Her hair tickled my nose and so five minutes later it was tucked beneath my chin enough to keep the wisps from tickling my skin anymore but not enough to inflict enough feeling that her eyebrows bunched together in a sour thought.

It was hard to move form the warm position but it was already much later than I had wanted to leave by, or told myself I would. I knew I wouldn't have been able to leave her so quickly. So I was up only twenty minutes before I was set to leave instead of hours ahead of time, playing with her hair while she gently stirred, tired and foggy in memory of what was happening. I whispered sweet nothings into her ears and ghosted my fingers over her curves to wake her from her sleepy state. Her smile was dropping but still bright as she crawled out of bed, ready to make a quick breakfast.

She kissed my forehead longingly before slipping out of the room with a small mumble of what she could make in such short time before I left. She said something about complaining about eggs, fighting with herself on how easy they should be but how they always turned out slightly runny or too cooked to the point where they were too crispy and burnt tasting. I watched her shuffle along to her own voice without her realizing yet again, head turning to face her more and more. I let her slip away into the darkness until we were separated. Her from the darkness of the stairs and me the brightness blinding my vision from the bathroom lights.

You kiss on sidewalks You fight then you talk One night he wakes

Though I had a ride, she insisted she drove. The car ride there was silent. Not the kind of silent that hung between us last night in the car. That was a light, comfortable silence that was created by the loss of topics that hung from our mouths. No, this felt more eerie. Like a darkness was waiting to encage us into it any moment. It felt like something was weighing the laughter and comfort down by a ball and chain. I was so busy analyzing the awkwardness I almost missed the tears forming in her eyes and her hand wiping them away just as quick as they came. I almost didn't see the airport just out the window. It was like the hangover or discomfort silenced the sound of tires stopping into a parking spot.

She was quick to get out of the car, grabbing my bag from the trunk, not daring to take another step without me. I followed her like I always do, always will. My hand rested heavily on her shoulder, letting her lead me to the correct gate and sit us down. My hand stuck to her palm like superglue. I held it there, knuckles brushed against my cupids bow, eyes brows relaxed and eyes fluttering shut from the early mornings and late last nights.

God, I'm going to miss those late nights and early mornings.

"Harry, baby." Her voice still dripped with sweetness and candies. Honey still soothing the burn in my throat. It woke me from my thoughts with a gentle shake.

"You're boarding. Don't want to miss the flight." She smiled at me, her hand not dropping from my lips I curled my lips into a smiled and stood with her.

My arms were quick to engulf her in a bear hug. I swallowed her whole in my jackets and hats, swaying from side to side in an embrace that turned into a kiss. I leaned into her first, lips messily clashing with hers while steady our movements from the swaying. I kissed her hard and passionate, a kiss that begged her to come with me, or tell me not to go. To kick and scream until I had to stay. But she never would. this was my job, we both knew I had to go. I signed up to be in a band, I signed up for this. For tour. I signed up, not her. She didn't sign up. I felt wrong. Why did I feel wrong?

She pulled away first, holding my biceps with a firm grip and a sparkle in her eyes. Her lips were bitten raw, from this morning. She tried to make me eggs. Sunny side up, my favorites. They became scrambled but at least she tried. But she didn't see it that way. She wanted to send me off with a good breakfast and worried about it the entire time spent over the stove. But they were pulled into a smile now, eyebrows not furrowed in anger or sadness. She was staring at me in pure admiration, holding me. But I felt sour about it all.

"What's wrong, H?" She was quiet, not wanting to alarm anyone else who could recognize us. "Don't you want to go? Remember how excited you were a couple months ago? Used to always talk about how you would get to go to the states and bring me back the biggest snow globe you could find. Remember?" She questioned, making herself smile at the memory of us sitting drunkenly on the couch at the beginning of the year. My arms outstretched telling her to make room and get rid of her couch so she could replace it with a giant snow globe. It was the first time he'd realized it fully. But he was in love with her.

"You better...you better call someone to get rid of this couch be-because when I get back I'm bringing you the biggest snow globe I can find and it's going r-right here baby!" I slurred, falling back into the arm rest.

"N-no! I like our couch! We can get rid of the dinning table!" She giggled, covering her mouth to muffle the loud sounds escaping her lips.

"How about I just buy us a snow globe and we can live in it!"

"Yes...oh my god H, are you sure you didn't go to college?" She leaned closer, smelling the alcohol radiating off of both of their shared breath.

"Let me tell you something y/n, flatter works on me and it's working!" I leaned in closer to her, our noses touching as we shared drunken giggles, feet tangling and eyes fluttering from the hot air below.

"I know! I know you so well!" She had slurred, eyes looking into mine so closely they almost merged into just one eye in my intoxicated state.

"I know! I know!" I yelled louder than I meant to, y/n quickly pushing her finger to my lip and shushing me in a drawn out "Shhh!" sound making us fall into a fleeing giggle that quieted down after only a moment.

I let a beat pass before the words on my mind finally slipped.

"Can I tell you something?" I smiled. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay but its a secret so you can't...you can't tell anybody!" I drew out my y's to add emphasis.

"Okay I promise! I promise just tell me, H!" She had giggled. My face fell serious.

"Y-you're my bestfriend." I managed, hiccupping at the end of my poorly put together sentence.

She smiled at that, letting the silence take us over as we shared a knowing smile and began to laugh again at the silence, finding everything and nothing funny.

Strange look on his face Pauses, then says "You're my best friend." And you knew what it was He is in love

You can hear it in the silence (silence), silence (silence) you You can feel it on the way home (way home), way home (way home) you You can see it with the lights out (lights out), lights out (lights out) You are in love, true love

I smiled, tearing up in the corners of my eyes, laughing with ourselves quietly at the stupid memory.

"I'm just going to miss having my bestfriend around everyday. Love you so much, can't be without you." She admired my face for a moment, pausing to think of what to say, she bit her lip again, catching blood from the ripped skin between her canines.

"I'll miss you too. Everyday for the rest of this stupid tour. And I'll call you every chance I get and make you answer. Keep calling until you do. Keep asking when you're gonna come home with that stupid snow globe." We shared a laugh again, my lips capturing hers softer this time, not as rushed or needy but in an acceptance.

"Better get on that flight then." I broke this kiss with a breath, smiling against her forehead.

"I guess if you have to." She joked, handing me my bags. "Call me when you land, need to know you're okay." She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, holding her palm to my cheek for a second longer, trying to find the words she wanted to say. There were so many running through her head in this short moment, so many with not nearly enough time. It was hard to filter through the ones she needed to say and wanted to.

And so it goes You two are dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round And he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars And why I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words

"I love you."

"I love you more."

'Cause you can hear it in the silence You can feel it on the way home You can see it with the lights out You are in love, true love You're in love

I kept my words, but I still felt sour without her. She had only been with me for such short amounts of time. Barely three years but still so long I felt I knew her for longer. I suddenly forgot how to eat, sleep, breathe without her around to lean on or to hold. So I am stuck clinging to the pieces I'm left with until I can see her again. I'll fill my time with her voice on facetimes that rack up the phone bills and I'll search everyplace I go to find her the biggest snow globes there are. And I'll fill the silence with her voicemails before I go on stage and I'll circle the days I get to see her again with red pen on my calendar. These are things she'll never see, but when I come back I know she'll know.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #you are in love #1989taylorswift #hslot23

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slytherhys · 12 days

Note

Hello, fellow Elriel!

This is your Elriel Month fic exchange announcement. Remember to not post this Ask until the days of your prompt (feel free to post your fic directly to this ask).

Gifting: @rahjasmine

Prompt: Hold Tight and Don't Make a Sound

Tropes: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/comfort, HEA, smut

Send @elriel-month an ask if you have any questions. Can’t wait to read it! 🦇🌹

This is my Elriel Month gift for the lovely @rahjasmine and I really hope it's to your liking! 🦇🌹 I did my best to include all the tropes you requested (because why not!) with a side of plot (mainly inspired by a few Elriel Theories).

Hope I met your expectations. Happy Elriel Month, love ❤

To Have & Forget

A/N: I’m a complete sucker for Hunt calling Bryce sweetheart throughout HOEAB so I’m making that Azriel’s pet name for Elain because if SJM recycles plotlines, why can’t we recycle pet names!

TW: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood and Injury

Word count: 3.8k | You can also read this on AO3!

The first thing Elain noticed when she came to her senses was the sound of flying.

She could feel the wind, cool and brisk on her face, just as she could feel the warmth of something, someone holding her in their arms. Her mind felt like mush, tired and wrung-out, and she could barely bring herself to open up her eyes and take notice of where she actually was.

That is, until the memories of tonight flashed through her mind, making her entire body lock. She felt the comforting squeeze of the arms around her, but Elain was beyond logic. All she could think about was the empty clearing in the middle of the woods, so still it wasn’t natural; the sticky, oily feeling of being watched; the foul scent of sulphur and salt and rot overcoming her senses as she reached for the trunk of the tree, looking for the onyx box they had been sent to retrieve.

All she could think about was how she had ignored it all – how they had been easy prey because Elain had been too distracted to wonder why she couldn’t feel the heady sense of Koschei’s magic, why the tingling in her arms seemed to be spreading through her body.

When Elain finally realised they had fallen right into a trap, it was already too late. She barely had time to turn around and cry out in warning – eyes wide as she watched an arrow move straight in Azriel’s direction – she was falling to the ground, eyes milky white and unseeing.

Sweet, sweet Elain¸its oily voice had grasped her mind, sending a hot slice of pain down her spine¸ You can’t protect him for me. She had whimpered, even as her lips remained shut. I’ll find him when the time comes, sweet, sweet-

“Elain,” Her eyes snapped up at the sound of her name on his lips. Azriel was looking down at her with a frown of concern across his features. “Hold tight,” He rasped, panting slightly. “We’re nearly there.”

She didn’t ask where there was. She supposed it didn’t really matter if it meant they’d be safe.

Elain wasn’t entirely sure how they had managed to get out. How Azriel had evaded an arrow he had not seen, how he had survived an attack from what had been at least ten sentries, when he had been staring at her, dread clear on his face.

She wasn’t entirely sure how she had survived either. She had heard the footsteps, she had heard snickering and vile jokes even through the daze of her visions. She had raged at the knowledge that she was going to die at the hands of her own incompetence. That she had failed, yet again, to understand what her visions meant – that the onyx box they had promised she’d find was a deception sent by someone else.

And Azriel – Azriel, who had seen her, who had never doubted her, her powers – would die too. Just like Rhysand had warned her about.

And yet, there she was: in the arms of the Shadowsinger as he landed softly on the ground. She looked up at him, dazed and confused as she tried to make sense of what had happened. Azriel, however, betrayed nothing. He just stared back at her, an inkling of concern still lingering in his eyes. He seemed reluctant to let her go, slowly setting her on the ground before clearing his throat.

“I’ll get us a room.” He rasped and before Elain could answer, he was turning away and walking inside a lovely stone cottage – an inn, she noticed with a frown. How Azriel knew of its existence was beyond her, but Elain couldn’t bring herself to care. She simply followed him, aware of his curious glances as they walked inside.

On any other day, Elain would’ve gasped and fussed over how incredibly charming the inn was, but feeling entirely too drained, she barely paid attention to anything at all. Not the paintings that seemed to move whenever no one was looking, not the elderly fae watching her with a curious expression from beyond the counter, and certainly not to what exactly Azriel was saying. She didn’t care for the curious stares from the patrons of the inn, she didn’t care for the fact her hands had been scrapped raw, pebbles indented to her scarred skin from when she fell to the floor.

You can’t hide him from me, sweet Elain. I have waited too long.

“Elain?”

She blinked, clearing the fog away as she took a step towards Azriel, who was standing in the middle of the room, looking at her like he was waiting for her to break apart. She looked around, not having realised she had already followed him into the room they’d be staying in. The modest bed, the wooden dresser and a small bathroom that would serve them just fine for the night. She didn’t ask if she was sleeping anywhere else – she assumed Azriel was as fond of the idea of spending the night separated as Elain was. Which is to say, not fond at all.

She eyed him, taking him in for what felt like the first time tonight and gasped.

There was a vicious tear on the shoulder of his Illyrian leathers and blood dripped down his arm.

An ugly, open wound and he had carried her for miles and miles until they were safe enough to land.

Without thinking, Elain moved, entering the bathroom without a glance back. Azriel said nothing, simply watching her with a frown as she grabbed every cloth she managed to find, looking for something, anything she could use to clean the wound. She ended up just filling a small bucket she found by the bathtub with cold water.

“Sit on the bed, please.” She rasped, her throat still raw from screaming. Azriel raised an eyebrow, though she could see he was paler than before. She set down the bowl by the bed, glancing at Azriel.

“I’m fine, Elain.” He reassured her, looking everything but fine.

She stepped closer, poking his chest. “Sit.” A poke to the chest. “On.” Another one. “The.” Another one. “Bed.” She said, shoving him softly.

“I’m fine,” He grunted. She tutted, pushing him until he was sitting on the bed, wincing at the brisk movement. Elain gave him a pointed look which Azriel promptly ignored, closing his eyes, and throwing his head back as he waited for her to start.

Elain tried not to take notice of his powerful neck, his strong jaw, and his plush lips. She focused instead on the cloth in her hands, flinching as cold water covered her hand. Then, as gently as she could manage, she patted the wound, pulling the fabric away to rinse it and start again.

She had repeated the process at least four times when Azriel spoke again, startling her. “What did you see?” He asked softly, as if not certain it was okay to ask such a thing.

Elain eyed him cautiously. She had to talk about it – she knew she did. She had put his life at risk because of it – she owed him that much. Still, every word tasted like poison ivy on her tongue. “It was him.” She murmured, still cleaning his wound even as his muscles tensed at her words as if he knew the name that was about to leave her lips. “It was Koschei.”

Azriel’s head snapped towards her, eyes unsettled as he tried to make sense of her words. Elain simply dropped the bloody cloth, reaching for a clean, dry towel and tearing it apart until only strips of it remained.

He was silent for a moment before saying, “It was a trap.” Elain nodded once, unable to meet his eyes. She began wrapping his shoulder with the strips of towel instead. “He knew we were coming.”

Elain flinched. “The vision I had in Velaris, about the box…” She shook her head, a pit forming inside her stomach as she finally admitted what had been running through her mind for the past hours. “He managed to trick me. He corrupted my own mind enough that I believed it was my own power doing it.” She whispered, eyes pinned on the makeshift wound wrappings covering the upper half of his arm. “It was my fault.” She felt her shoulders drop with the weight of her admission.

“What did he tell you, Elain?” Azriel asked softly and it was only then Elain realised he was reaching for her; gently cradling her face with his beautiful hand. Her face crumpled as cold dread filled her veins all over again. Because she did not want to think about it. She did not want to accept it.

Still, Elain looked into Azriel’s hazel eyes for the first time since they’d arrived at this tiny room. “He’s looking for you.” She whispered, yet the words felt just as biting as they had when Koschei had first hissed them inside her mind.

Azriel swallowed dry, nodding as if he had been expecting that. “Was that it?”

“I’m not sure-”

“You can tell me, sweetheart.” He assured, and Elain nearly burst into tears at his gentle tone. That he was comforting her when he was the one being threatened spoke of character.

“He says he’s been waiting for too long, that you can’t hide from him.” Her voice trembled. She leaned her face further into his touch, feeling like a coward for not being able to offer the same comfort he was giving her. “That I c-can’t save you.” Azriel went still, eyes locked on her face. But Elain wasn’t done – with a new sense of courage, she squared her shoulders, brown eyes never flickering away from as she promised, “There isn’t a thing that would stop me from saving you.” She frowned. “No matter how dreadful I am with a dagger.”

“You can handle daggers just fine, sweetheart.” He teased, but Elain only frowned further, unable to joke when things felt suddenly so grave.

“We need to leave the Continent, Az.” She turned around, escaping his touch as she took in her surroundings. The unlocked door, the unprotected window…By the Cauldron, they were only on the second floor and Mother knew what those bandits were capable of. If they had followed them.

“Elain,” He urged again, pulling her by her hand until she was standing between his open legs. “Elain, sweetheart, look at me.”

Elain stopped, panting as she turned to look at him, despair spreading through her chest until she could hardly breathe.

“We’re safe here.” He promised. “No one’s getting to me tonight.” Elain flinched slightly at the word tonight, and it was all she could do not to throw her arms around his shoulders, kissing him until they could both forget what had happened. Whatever awaited them out there. “We’ll leave for Velaris at dawn. We’ll tell Rhys and Feyre what happened and take it from there. Everything will be okay,” He pulled her closer, staring into her eyes with unshakable certainty. “We’ll be okay.”

Elain couldn’t escape his gaze, enthralled by the intensity hidden in those hazel eyes. She hadn’t even realised how close to him she had gotten. How all she could smell was him, all she could see and feel was him. His hands gently resting on her hips, his long legs trapping her between them, his breath caressing her mouth. Suddenly Elain’s heart was racing for an entirely different reason.

Memories from the night of Solstice flashed through her mind, alarms blaring inside her mind as she thought of doing something very silly like kissing the Spymaster. After that fated night, they had gone months without talking. Azriel had made himself scarce, keeping busy with all sorts of missions away from Velaris, and Elain… Elain had buried herself in work, in training with Nuala and Cerridwen, in being there for her younger sister as she recovered from a traumatic pregnancy. All thoughts of Azriel, of that necklace, of almost-kisses, had been promptly pushed aside, kept in a box, and hidden from view. Now, as she stared at him, her heart racing inside her chest, she wondered if maybe tonight – just tonight – they could have this.

She parted her lips, and his eyes dropped to them.

“We’ll be okay.” He whispered again, and Elain suspected they were no longer talking about Koschei.

Elain took a shaky breath. “Az.” She pleaded. Because she couldn’t handle the bite of his rejection again. Because she would shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t kiss her, claim her, and show her he was truly there; alive and safe.

“Sweetheart, we shouldn’t-” He started, even as his lips came closer to hers.

“We’ll pretend.” She interrupted him gently, her own hands reaching for his soft hair. “For one night, we’ll pretend we should. We’ll pretend there is nothing in this world but us.” She tried, feeling raw where she stood. “We’ll just pretend.” She murmured as if it were truly that simple. As if they could just get lost in each other and consequences be damned. Forget about her murky visions and her damaged mind. About the threat to his life.

She felt like she had stopped breathing as she waited for him to say something – do something.

But then Azriel was cradling her face yet again, pulling her into his arms and kissing her so fervently, so thoroughly Elain’s knees buckled. Azriel inhaled shakily, grabbing at the back of her knees until she was straddling his hips and the feeling of him, hard and ready under her, made her head spin. His every move spoke of urgency, of a thirst to feel her. There was no softness, only pure, desperate need.

“Yes,” She said, her own desire an inferno burning inside of her, flaring everywhere their skin touched.

His scarred hands reached for the hem of her grey dress, swiftly pulling it over her head until she was in nothing more than her bra and panties. Azriel groaned at the sight of the blue lace, reaching for her chest with an expression on his face akin to reverence. Elain dropped her head back, shivering as his rough hands teased her sensitive nipples over the lace.

Azriel leaned forward, inhaling the scent of her bare neck, licking, and tasting her. Elain moaned, hips rolling bucking against his lap.

“You need to be quiet, sweetheart,” He mumbled, eyes never leaving hers even as he slowly pushed the bra straps down her arms. “Or I won’t give you what you need.”

Elain nodded franticly, biting her lip as she watched him drop his head and wrap his lips around her now bare nipple. She tried to obey – she truly, truly did – but the feeling of his talented tongue teasing her sensitive skin made her delirious, crying out loud enough that the sound echoed through the empty room.

Azriel squeezed her hips in warning, his hands keeping their path as they traced her curves reverently, each movement speaking of the crazed, rushed need to have her in his arms.

He wrapped a scarred hand around her jaw, pulling her down until he was kissing her, moaning into her mouth just as Elain felt his other hand reach for her covered centre. She gasped, her legs shaking as his fingers swiped at her.

“You’re dripping for me,” He groaned, nimble fingers circling her cunt in a tantalising rhythm that had Elain panting, her own hands exploring his body until she was wrapping her hand around his clothed cock. She stroked him once, twice, three times until Azriel was cursing under his breath, bucking his hips as Elain rushed to free him.

“Azriel, please.” She whimpered against his lips. The feeling of his throbbing, naked member on her hand sent a shot of adrenaline down her body and for a second it was as if Elain had stopped feeling her own body. There was only her hand wrapped around his cock, his fingers teasing the entrance of her soaked cunt.

“Fuck.” He muttered, lips swollen and red. Elain whimpered in agreement, head dropping to his shoulder as he thrust one thick finger inside of her.

“Feels so good.” She managed to say, eyes closed as he set a punishing pace that had her rolling her hips, fucking herself on his finger. Pressure built around the base of her spin, her walls fluttering around his finger. Elain only had the time to bite into his shoulders as she felt herself fall over the edge, clamping around his finger as her hands reached for his body. She needed to feel his body pressed against hers, needed to be as close to him as possible.

“I need to fuck you,” Azriel said with a pained groan. “Now, sweetheart. Please.” He moaned and Elain, still a bit dazed from her own orgasm, was all too happy to oblige.

She held on to him, raising slightly to her knees as she reached for his hard, aching member again, pressing it against her entrance. They both groaned at the feel of it, eyes locked as they took in the enormity of what they were about to do. Elain didn’t give them time to regret any of it – she simply slid down, moaning as the feel of him stretched her, filled her until she was panting, ready to burst.

Elain had been with other men, but none of them compared. Nothing had ever felt like this. She was pure need and raw desire, a primal longing ringing through her as she felt like clinging to him.

Azriel cursed, stilling her hips as he stared at her with hooded eyes. “You can’t make a sound, sweetheart.” He warned her again, reminding Elain they were in a dingy inn in the middle of nowhere, thin walls and precarious locks the only thing keeping them protected from wandering eyes. Elain could care less, but a zing of arousal went down her spine at the thought of obeying the male under her, of being good to him.

When Elain was about ready to come apart around his cock, Azriel finally reached for the globes of her ass, squeezing them and manhandling Elain until she was moving again. She could feel every ridge, every throb of his cock as she rode him, making them both moan into their kiss.

“Elain,” Azriel panted, spreading his knees and thrusting from under her, one of his hands reaching for her jaw as he kept her right where he wanted her.

She was riding him, yet she was completely at his mercy, unable to do anything but take every thrust of his cock, the bite of his hand grabbing her ass, the gentle way he was holding her jaw so he could taste her lips as he fucked her.

The breath in her lungs grew scarcer and her eyes started to flutter as she felt the familiar tell-tale of an orgasm. Az moaned.

“Fuck, you’re gonna come for me?” He rasped, eyes blown wide as she took her in. The way he was staring at her made warmth spread through her entire body. She felt one scarred hand circle her clit, soft enough that it nearly drove her mad. “Let me feel you come around my cock, sweetheart.”

“Azriel, I’m-”

“Come for me, Elain.” He ordered, and her name on his lips was enough to send her straight over the edge. Elain shattered around him, her legs shaking as pleasure rushed through her body, numbing her limbs. Before she could cry out, Azriel was kissing her, his tongue seeking hers. “Shit.” He muttered, his hips shuttering as he thrust into her, seeking his own pleasure.

“Come inside me, Az.” Elain muttered dozily. “I want you to fill me with your cum.”

He wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her into him as he came inside her with a moan. “Fuck, Elain.” He thrust into her clumsily, emptying his seed into her.

She fell against him, head on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, feeling Azriel’s ragged breathing under her, his arms still wrapped around her.

“Elain,” He said her name softly, and something inside her seemed to settle at last – even as fear tied her stomach in knots.

How foolish of her to think they could just pretend. How foolish of her to think one night would ever be enough.

She pulled away, her eyes meeting his in the darkened room. Elain swallowed dry, her heartbeat so loud she could barely hear her own whisper. “Do you regret it?”

Azriel’s expression was uncharacteristically open – enough so that Elain could read the confusion, the disbelief that came across his features for a brief moment. She shut down the tiny voice that told her she ought to feel elated he felt comfortable enough to show her his emotions, but all she could focus on was the fear seizing her chest, telling her that to him, one night had been more than enough.

Azriel watched her closely, seeing all that. Understanding her, like he always did.

So, with Elain still straddling his hips, he reached for her and kissed her. Slowly, reverently. Elain felt her breath catch, her mind clear as his tongue sought hers. She brought her hands to his jaw, begging him for more, crazed with the realisation of how much she had longed for him. Azriel, however, kept his lazy pace. Tasting her like they had all the time in the world.

He pulled away, his eyes clear and intent as they locked on hers, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “The only thing I regret is that you think this will be a one-time thing, sweetheart.” He rasped, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Elain chuckled softly, even as a shiver ran down her spine at the sinful promise ringing in those words. She wanted to hold him in her arms, to ravish him again and again, until dawn came, and they had to leave the Continent behind. But she knew this moment to be too fragile, too raw for there to be space for anything but the truth that floated between them. That there wasn’t a world where they could keep apart from each other any longer.

So, Elain let his promise settle down deep inside of her, an answering smile rising on her lips.

And later that night, when he had already fallen asleep in her arms, his head lying on her chest as she played with his hair, she let her own truth settle deep inside of her.

Now that he was finally hers, there was nothing – no one – that would be taking Azriel away from her. No pesky mating bonds, no prying High Lords. And certainly no manipulative, mad, ancient Gods - no matter how powerful they were.

She would make sure of it.

#elriel #elrielmonth2024 #elriel month 2024 #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #my writing #to have & forget

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