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darksigns-exe · 15 days

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dors encore jusqu'au jour où tout ira bien* - noah sebastian x f!reader

*sleep on until the day when all is well

warnings: Swearing, discussions of mental health, depression, burnout and relationship issues

word count: 5.9k

note: This is a hefty one. It gets very angsty in certain parts, but if you know me, you know that I cannot bring myself to write a bad ending. Regardless of that, please think of yourself first and feel free to sit out on this one if you’re not in the headspace to dip into almost 6k of angst. Thank you to @deathblacksmoke and @circle-with-me for your feedback <3

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You’re not sure when it happened.

It feels like one day everything was fine and the next he’s pushing his dinner across the plate as if it’s the most revolting thing he’s ever seen.

You’ve never seen Noah like this.

Sure, he gets quite sometimes. He has days when he locks himself behind the door of the studio and only emerges to eat and to take a bathroom break.

This is different, though.

When you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile or heard him laugh. You’re sure that it can’t have been long, surely you haven’t missed him tumbling into his hole.

You don’t realise how bad it actually is until he starts to miss appointments, until you have to convince him to get out of bed just to have breakfast with you. He retreats back into the safety of your bedroom as soon as he’s finished with what you know to be too little food. You know that he’s only coming downstairs for your sake. And somehow that makes it worse.

You sit in silence for a long while on that morning. You’ve watched him wither for too long already. And maybe that’s why you call Nick that morning, hoping that he can give you some kind of insight. Nick has all the answers, he always knows.

He doesn’t this time.

All he can offer is what you already know.

Knowing Noah, he’ll be resistant to help until it's almost too late. Still, you make your way up the stairs towards your shared bedroom. They feel impossibly long today. It’s not like you’re going to break horrible news to him, but you know your boyfriend well enough to know that he’ll deny that anything is wrong. He’ll insist that everything is just fine, even when you both know that the exact opposite is the truth.

The worst thing, you think, is that you don’t know why he feels like this. You’ve tried to ask him if he’s looking forward to the shows, to playing the new songs, but all you ever got in response was a half-hearted shrug. Watching him lose all passion for the thing he loved had broken a little piece inside of you.

You knock on the door before you crack it open just a little bit.

“Noah?” you ask softly, not sure if he’s still awake or if sleep had already taken him over again.

No reply.

You force yourself through the crack in the door and close it as quietly as you can. He’s curled up on his side, turned away from the door. The sight breaks your heart even more. His body moves with slow breaths, and you’re still not sure if he’s awake or not.

You sit on the edge of the bed behind him. You place your hand on his back, and he jumps at the touch, shrinking further away from you.

“You don’t have to say anything. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, love, but I’m here.” you can’t stop the tears from falling as you speak, “I don’t know how to help you, but we need to do something. I’m worried about you.”

He stays silent, but you can feel him draw in a deep breath under your palm.

“Nick thinks that you should think about cancelling the shows.”

You regret it as soon as you’ve said it.

The look on his face when he finally turns to look at you hurts more than anything else. The anger that suddenly radiates from him makes scoot back from him instantly.

“And why the fuck would I do that? This is none of your business. I don’t go around telling you how to do your job, do I?” he seethes, “You have nothing to be worried about.”

“You’re obviously not well. I’m just trying to help.” you reply, feeling awfully helpless.

Noah sits up, his back still turned to you.

“If you think you know me so well, you should know that I’m fine. And I don’t need your help, either. Maybe you should find someone else to pity.”

He’s out of the room before you can say another word. Deep down, you know that the anger isn’t real. You don’t know what has its claws in him, but you know that it’s bad.

You don’t know where he disappears to after that.

The studio is empty, and his keys have disappeared from the little chest of drawers by the door. A part of you wants to abandon him then and there. If he wants to soak in his misery, let him. But at the same time, you know that he needs you more than ever now, even if he isn’t ready to see that yet.

You get a text from Jolly not long after that, letting you know that Noah showed up at his door looking all kinds of messed up. He lets you know that he’s out cold on the sofa for the time being, but that there needs to be a conversation before long.

Jolly drops of a clearly miserable Noah the following morning.

“You should shower before they get here.” Jolly says curtly as Noah disappears up the stairs once again.

You both watch in silence as he disappears into the bathroom, and you let out a sigh when you hear the shower turn on. Without asking, you’re wrapped into a tight hug and finally the tears you’ve been holding back all day break free from you.

“I talked to him.” he says, still holding you close, “I think he understood. The Nicks will be here in a bit, and we’ll talk about cancelling the shows.”

“Thank you.” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt.

He gives you another squeeze before releasing you from the hug, “How are you doing? I know this has to be hard on you too.”

You do feel a little bit bad for pouring your heart out to him like this, but it feels good to finally talk to someone besides yourself about any of this.

Before long, your conversation is interrupted by the bathroom door opening again. You think Noah resembles a wet puppy more than he does a man, and it makes you feel impossibly bad for him. He stands at the top of the stairs, wrapped into one of the hoodies you know he likes, watching you intently. His hands wring together nervously, brow furrowed so deeply that you’re sure that it aches a little. You excuse yourself and swiftly come up to meet Noah.

“Can we talk?” he asks quietly, barely managing to meet your eyes, “I want to apologise.”

You follow him into your bedroom.

Noah sits down at the foot of your bed. You sit next to him, a hands' width away from.

“What I said — that was not okay. I shouldn’t have said that.” he remains focused on his still fidgeting hands, “I’m really sorry.”

The way he’d looked at you a day earlier still lingered in your mind, and even though you know that he didn’t actually mean what he said, you can’t help but feel hurt.

“I know you are. I know you didn’t mean what you said. It still hurt.” you reach for his hands, interlacing yours with one of his, “But we’ll be okay. I just need you to talk to me. I don’t know what to do if you don’t talk to me.”

Noah squeezes your hand just a little bit, “I’m sorry that I let it get this bad.”

You pull him into your arms and Noah folds almost instantly. His head drops to your shoulder. The fabric of your shirt grows a little damp, and the silent sob that shakes through his body makes your chest ache.

The other two arrive within the next thirty minutes, with Folio running a little late because he once again misjudged the time it would take him to get to your place. You stay in the living room while they talk in the kitchen, despite Noah’s protest. As much as you want to sit with him and hold his hand, you know that he has to do this on his own. In the end, the conclusion is that the shows need to be cancelled so that Noah will have some kind of chance to recuperate. You overhear his quiet admission that maybe he has piled a little bit too much onto his plate, that he’s tried to do too much in too little time. You know that all he’s ever wanted was to see this band do well, and when they finally got that, he’d done everything he needed to make sure that they’d stay up there. And now, in retrospect, you know that you should have tried to do something earlier.

Hindsight is evil like that.

The three of them don’t stay for dinner. Nick stays for a while longer, but you can tell that Noah longs for the house to be quiet again. And he practically falls into your lap as soon as you’ve sat down next to him again. Your fingers card through his hair, just how he likes it, while you sit in silence. He falls asleep a little while later. His brow remains furrowed, and you can easily tell that he’s clenching his jaw. You let Noah rest like this for a while, before you carefully slip out from under him. He stirs a little, blinking up at you with drowsy eyes. You kneel down next to him, placing your hand against his cheek.

“I’m gonna order us something for dinner. How do you feel about Korean?”

His expression only changes minimally.

“We can get whatever you want.” Your thumb drifts across his cheek, “But you need to eat something, darling.”

You end up heating up a portion of frozen tomato soup for each of you. You’re sure that you see a faint trace of a smile on his face when you place the grilled cheese in front of him.

For the first time in weeks, you think that things are looking up.

Despite your best efforts, you watch him sink deeper and deeper into this hole. He’s distant, drifting along as days pass and turn into weeks, and you feel as if there’s nothing that you can do to make it better. You’ve managed to convince him to see Ash at least once a week, but even that had felt like an uphill battle. You feel awful for making him leave the house when he so evidently doesn’t want to do that. At the same time, it feels like the only thing you can do besides holding him close when it gets so bad that he wakes in the middle of the night, body shaking with bitter sobs that sear right through you.

You know that you can’t force Noah to talk. But at the same time you wish that he’d at least divulge a little bit of what is going on in his head, maybe that way you could do more.

You think that he’s coming up on the other side when you find him in his studio one afternoon. It isn’t until you actually step inside the room that you notice his face buried in his hands. In a split second, you find yourself kneeling at his side. At first, he doesn’t move, remains stuck as he is.

“Talk to me, Noah. Please.” You plead, placing your hand on him as best as you can with this weird angle, “I want to help, but I don’t know what you need if you don’t talk to me.”

Reluctantly, he swivels the chair towards you, allowing him to somewhat drape himself over you. The silent tears break your heart even further. You’ve seen him cry before, more in recent weeks than ever before, but this feels different. He sinks down in front of you, utterly broken down. And all you can do is hold him close, whispering soothing things to him. You don’t know if your words even reach his conscious mind, but maybe they sink into him somewhere, maybe deep down they find a home in him.

“It doesn’t work. I can’t do it any more.” He whispers after some time.

Your fingers card through his hair, trying to get him to look at you, but Noah resists, keeping his face pressed against your shoulder.

“What doesn’t work?” You ask softly.

Instead of giving you an answer, he throws a hesitant look towards the still opened editing software on his monitor.

“Oh darling.” You sigh, wrapping him even tighter into your embrace.

“This is all I have.” He says feebly, “This is who I am.”

“Noah.”

He pulls away just a little bit. The only way you can describe the look on his face is panicked.

“What am I going to do if I can’t do the one thing I’m good at any more? I — I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He hiccups in between words, and it’s evident that he’s barrelling towards a panic attack, “I can’t lose this.”

He descends into rambling, chest heaving frantically, and for a second you feel so very helpless. It doesn’t matter what you say, your words won’t reach him, no amount of it’ll be okay can fix this, and it hurts so terribly.

You place your hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look at you as a last ditch effort.

“Look at me, Noah.” You’re not sure where you find the energy to be this firm with him, “I need you to listen to me now, okay? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens. The guys aren’t going anywhere. The band isn’t going anywhere. Whatever happens, we’re all here. Your friends are here, and we love you so much. It doesn’t matter how much time you need. We’ll all be here when you’re ready. And even if that’s in a month or a year. And if it gets worse, and you never get there again, we’ll still be here. No one is going to leave. I won’t leave.”

He’s quieted down to sniffles by then. His cheeks are so awfully red and splotchy, and you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look more exhausted before.

“I know this is scary. And I know that we can make it through this, but I need you to talk to me. Watching you suffer through this in silence hurts a lot. I feel so helpless watching you fall apart like this.”

“I’m just so scared of losing all of this.” The admission comes so quietly, “What if we can’t keep up with the demand? What if we can’t —“

“What happened to doing whatever you want regardless of how it’ll sell?” You reach for his hand instead, “I know this sudden rise felt good, but this is not sustainable. You can’t spend months on the road, barely sleeping, just so you can keep up with all of this. This — the band, the fans, the music wouldn’t be here without you. All of you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly.

“We’ll figure this out, Noah.” You press a kiss to the back of his still trembling hand, “I promise.”

He lets out a heavy breath, folding in on himself just a little bit.

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with this.” He sighs.

“I would do it over and over again. As often as I have to. And I know that you’d do the same for me.”

Noah’s the one who brings up the idea of a vacation. He doesn’t make a direct suggestion, but you find a print out of an Airbnb in Oregon on the kitchen table one morning, and that’s good enough for you. You’re glad for any kind of active participation he’s willing to give. It’s been a difficult few weeks, but you think that he’s starting to feel a little better. On some days, you think that he’s almost back on top. He’s all smiles and sweet words, just to fall back down the next day. It’s a slow climb, but you’re moving forwards.

Oregon will be nice.

The drive is nice, albeit awfully long. Noah had admitted that he didn’t feel good enough to drive, and you’re glad that he’s able to see what he is and isn’t ready for. He seems to be quite comfortable navigating and selecting music, though. You don’t say anything when you hear him humming along to one of the songs, afraid that it’ll make him shrink back into his shell. Hearing his dumb little laugh at a street sign reading Weed gives you a little bit of hope.

In the months since Noah had been at home, the intimate side of your relationship had been practically non-existent. For a while you’d felt as if you were living with a friend rather than your boyfriend of three years. Noah had never one to shy away from intimacy, your relationship had always been interlaced with soft touches and kisses. To watch him recoil at your touch had been incredibly hurtful, even when you knew - or rather hoped - that it was only a momentary thing.

By the time your first week in Oregon is almost over, you dare to let your hands wander across his chest once again. It’s strangely foreign. You’d been so used to touching him like this, and now it almost feels as if you have relearn everything again.

You’ve laid awake for the past hour. He looks much more relaxed now compared to some weeks earlier. The persistent furrow in his brow is slowly easing, and his sleep seems to be a little more restful.

You do feel a little bad for disturbing his much-needed rest, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so beautiful in the warm morning light falling through the open sliver in the curtains.

Your fingers trail across the streak of light that runs across his tummy and chest. The muscles twitch beneath your touch, but he doesn’t quite stir yet. You try to keep your touch as gentle as you can. Noah only wakes when your fingers brush against his hip. He stretches, letting you a soft noise as he does. There’s no protest when you trace up the length of his side. He’s still so sleepy, eyes all soft and warm, and you absolutely have to kiss him.

He leans into your hand when you place it against his cheek. You draw him in for a kiss for what feels like the first time in months. It’s so gentle and chaste, barely there, but it seems to ignite something in Noah. A second later you find yourself on your back, with him hovering above you. One of your hands drifts along his back, before it settles at his waist, guiding him towards you.

It’s over as quickly as it has started.

“I can’t.” He says quietly, forehead once again dropped against your shoulder.

“It’s okay, honey. We don’t have to.” You soothe, carefully threading your fingers into his hair, “We can just have a little cuddle instead.”

“I can’t.” He looks absolutely miserable when he detaches himself from you, “It doesn’t work. This is so fucking embarrassing.”

You realise then when he means. The agony and embarrassment on his face make you wish that you could just magic it all away.

You want him back, not just for yourself but because you can see that this is torture for him too.

“I’m sorry.” Noah adds quietly, “I’m — I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You don’t let go of him though and his efforts to leave are quickly squashed when he flops back down next to you.

“Can you look at me for a moment, Noah?” He meets your eyes so hesitantly.

He almost looks as if he’s just waiting to be told what a disappointment he is and somehow that hurts even more.

“It’s okay. I’m not upset, and I don’t think less of you because of it. It’ll come back.” You say earnestly, hoping that he’ll take at least some of it to heart, “You’re still my boyfriend and I love you so much regardless of what you can or can’t do at the moment. I know you love me, you don’t have to sleep with me to show that.”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flitting across your face nervously, before he settles into the slightest hint of a content smile.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You do. You deserve to be treated with love and respect, especially when you need it most.”

“I just wish that I could give some of it back.”

“You have. And in time you will again. But right now, it’s my turn to make sure that you know that you’re safe and loved.”

His expression changes into something you can’t quite place yet. Maybe it’s realisation, maybe it’s relief, or a mixture of both.

Noah shifts a little closer to you, taking your hands into his, “Thank you. You’ve been so patient with me.”

“Of course. It’ll always be you and me, okay? We’ve gotten through so much, we’ll get through this, too. You’ve already come so far, and I’m so proud of you.”

At the end of your second week, you’d called the owners to extend your stay for another week. Being away from home like this was good for him and if he needed a little more time here then so be it. You could thankfully afford that luxury.

You find him furiously scribbling in a notebook when you come back from the store one afternoon. You couldn’t remember if he’d brought one of his or if he’d borrowed yours, but whatever had sprung into his mind was important enough for him to need to get it onto paper immediately. You watch him from the doorway for a moment, not wanting to disturb him just yet. Instead, you bring the rest of your shopping into the house as quietly as you can. Noah comes to meet you at the door just as you bring in the last bag.

“You’re back quick.” he states somewhat blankly.

“Didn’t want you to be alone for too long.” you reply, tossing the pack of toilet roll towards him, “Can you get one of the bags?”

His face turns down into a frown, before he reaches for one of the bags and marches off into the depths of the house.

As much as his overall mood has improved, it’s still so changeable. The smallest thing tips him off and you either end up at each other's throats or with you cradling him in your arms while he tries to quiet down his tears. You’re so tired of the fighting, though. You don’t mind doing this for him, in fact you do it gladly, but sometimes it exhausts you. The boys had been your greatest crutch, checking in with you once in a while to make sure you were also taking care of yourself, and you are more than grateful for it. All three of them had been so incredibly supportive in their own ways. As soon as you’d mentioned that you were heading up to Oregon for a bit, Folio had sent you link after link with recommendations of things to do and look at. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him that you were glad if you’d get Noah to sit outside with you in the evenings. You had eventually managed to convince Noah to go on little walks with you, just to get him out of the house and moving a little bit. In the end, he had been the one who had dragged you out of the door in the morning so that you could get to that one nice spot before the tourists got there.

Noah is nowhere to be seen when you enter the kitchen. The bags are haphazardly placed in front of the counter, with no sight of him anywhere.

Your call of his name remains unanswered.

When you don’t see him on the bench out on the back porch, you make your way through the house, checking various rooms until you find him once again sequestered away in the bedroom.

“Baby?” you ask softly, “Everything okay?”

Noah makes a somewhat indignant sound then, and you swear that you see him rolling his eyes.

“Noah.”

“You can stop babying me. I’m not incapable of living without you.” he shoots back, “You don’t need to hound me all day. I’ll be fine.”

“I just want to –”

He scoffs, “I know you just want to help. And why do you think I need your help? I’m not – I don’t need you to pity me.”

The first tears fall before your jaw has the chance to tremble.

You try not to listen to the bitter words he hurls at you. They slowly chip away at your confidence.

“I’m not some lost puppy you need to take care of.”

Somehow, that’s your last straw.

“You know what, Noah. I’m sorry for putting my life on the back burner for you. I’m sorry that I tried to help the man I love.” you turn on your heels, leaving the room before he can throw more vitriol your way.

Your feet carry outside and down the pathway towards the river. Your chest feels so awfully tight. There’s only so much you can take, and hearing him discredit everything you’ve done for him feels as if he’s struck a sword straight through your chest. You collapse on the low bench in front of the firepit you haven’t had the chance to use yet. As much as you try to convince yourself that he doesn’t actually mean what he said, you can’t quite bring yourself to do so. The anger on his face seemed so real. Maybe you had gone a little overboard with your care. All you had wanted was for him to feel better, you had never meant to overstep.

It feels so heartbreaking.

Out of all the fights you’ve had recently, this one feels the most devastating. Although, you’re not even sure if you can call this a fight.

You don’t know if you can come back from this.

The longer you sit in silence, the worse the feeling gets. Somehow, you had hoped that he’d come out and find you, that he’d try to fix it. Instead, you’re out here on your own, shivering as the air gets colder and colder. You’re not sure how long you’re out here, but no matter how much you try, you can’t will yourself to head back inside.

The call of your name barely reaches you, not even the orb of the torch you’d brought two days into your stay makes you look up. It’s only when his figure crouches in front of you, hands desperately smoothing along your shoulders and face.

“You’re freezing.” his voice trembles when he speaks, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

His sweater is draped across your shoulders, his warmth sinks into you almost immediately.

Noah’s hands curl around yours, holding them just a little bit too tightly. He’s shaking like a leaf. It’s too dark to make out the intricacies of his face, but the fear is obvious.

“I– I couldn’t find you inside. I didn’t know where you’d gone.” the words rush from his mouth so quickly that he stumbles across a few of them, “I’m so sorry. Let’s get you inside. Please, my love.”

When you don’t immediately move, his forehead drops to your knees, hands tucked under him so that he can press his lips to your palms.

“I wish I could take it all back. I’m such an ass. Fuck, you do so much for me and I can’t even say thank you for it.” another kiss to your palms, “Please come inside with me. I don’t want you to get ill because of me.”

Noah rises to his feet, slowly pulling you with him.

His hand remains wrapped around yours, as if he’s scared that you’ll vanish again. Through the open sliding door, you can already smell what you think is a pasta bake. Nothing fancy, but he always manages to whip up something good and warming for you.

He ushers you towards the table, making you sit down on one of the chairs. Within a moment, he places a somewhat cooled cup of tea in your hands.

“I thought that you’d gone to the other bedroom and I – I feel so bad that I never checked. I just wanted to give you space after all of that and – and now this.” he sits on the chair next to you, hands writhing in his lap, “I don’t know how I can fix this. What I said – I keep fucking up. You’ve given up so much for me, and this is what I do in return. I can’t take it back. I said all of that, and I know that it was incredibly hurtful. But if there’s some way that you’ll forgive me – it doesn’t matter what you need from me – I’ll do it. But if you need me to –” he swallows back tears and maybe that’s when you realise how serious is about this, “If you need me to leave I will. I can be gone by tomorrow if you want that.”

“Don’t leave.” your voice feels so rough, so shaky, “Please.”

The tears that roll down his cheek feel so loud when then drop onto the hardwood below your feet.

“I won’t.” his hands find yours once more, “We can fix this. I don’t want to feel like this any more, but – I need you. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.”

You look at your joined hands. You’ve always thought that they fit together so perfectly, two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle made exactly for each other. There’s no one else who fits you like he does. Sure, you could try and jam two pieces together, but it’ll never be right like this.

“I told you that I’ll always be here, didn’t I?” you say, still looking at where his hands flex around yours, “I meant that. I don’t know if I could love anyone else.”

His lips press together so tightly that the colour flees from them.

“We’ve come too far to give up on this now, Noah. We’ll figure this out, but we need to be better – both of us.”

“I know.” he casts his eyes low, “When we’re back home I’m gonna get myself back into therapy. I promise you that I’ll get myself back on my feet.”

You free one of your hands from his grasp, so that you can bring it up to his cheek, “We can make it through this. We’ll be alright.”

Noah eyes you for a moment before he finally speaks up, “Can – can I kiss you?”

Even if you wanted to, you can’t stop the smile from breaking onto your face, “Please.”

He surges forward then, pressing his lips to yours so sweetly. He cradles your face in his hands, keeping you close to him until you’re both breathless.

“I love you, but I think your pasta is about to burn.” you whisper after a few more blissful moments.

Noah jumps up with a swear, and for the first time in months you can see his previous self break through this shell.

There’s a tentative plan for the band to return to the stage in late January, giving you another two – almost three months – of this quiet life. Sometimes you think that Noah feels quite comfortable being just a boyfriend and not a trillion other things on top of it. Every day he rises a little easier, seems a little more secure in himself again. Slowly but surely the music returns into his life, and before long he’s pushing his notebook into your field of vision again.

“Can you have a look at this? I don’t know how I feel about it.” he asks, slumping down next to you.

You put down your phone and pick the book from his hands. You’ve always loved his boyish handwriting. Something tells you that this isn’t meant for Bad Omens or anyone else's eyes. It’s surprisingly confessional, a somewhat fictionalised account of the last few months that all in all wraps around a single steady thread – you. It’s not a hymn to your efforts, but rather an acknowledgement of everything you had given him and sacrificed because of him.

Noah's hand wraps around yours. The crowd a few meters away from you roars as the screen changes once again.

“You’ll be fine, honey.” you soothe, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Feels like I’m doing this for the first time.”

It’s been almost a year, of course he’d be a little nervous. But you know that he’ll do his best, and that’s all everyone could ever ask for.

“I know. I can’t be with you up there, but I’m right here. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”

He nods, more to reassure himself than to acknowledge what you said.

“You’re almost up.” someone says from behind you.

Noah shakes himself out of his stasis.

“Alright.” he says to himself, “Wish me luck?”

“You don’t need luck.” you pull him in for a kiss, “I love you. Go do your thing.”

“I love you.”

He steals another kiss, before he pulls that damned ski mask over his head. Just a moment later he’s up the stairs and as soon as you hear their screams you know that the little bit of fear that still sat on his shoulder has melted away.

From your position you can watch the show quite comfortably. It takes Noah a moment to get back into the stage persona, but once they’re through the first song, it feels as if he had never stopped doing it. Seeing him back on his feet like this fills you with absolute joy.

They’re nearing the end of the set when Noah actually addresses their somewhat forced break.

“We’ve been away for a little bit. I’m sorry if that messed with your plans, but it was a long time coming. We’re all incredibly thankful for what you’ve made possible for us, and we’ve always tried to give all of that back. Maybe we – I’ve tried a little too hard. What I’m trying to say is that it’s thanks to all of your support that I could take this step back, and I’ll never forget that. But I also have to thank someone else.” he turns towards you, giving you that smile of his that makes you feel as if you’ve just fallen in love with him, “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Whatever he says after that is drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. Noah leads them into the last song of the set so effortlessly.

The past months still linger with you, and they will for a while longer. In the end, it was worth every single tear. You’d fought tooth and nail for this – both of you had. And you’re so glad that you did it.

As soon as the set is over, Noah comes barrelling down the stairs towards you. You’re wrapped into his arms. You return the embrace immediately, holding him to you as tightly as you can. For a long moment, both of you remain silent, content to just hold each other close.

“Thank you, my love.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “For everything.”

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebatian x f!reader #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian angst #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic

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neil-gaiman · 8 months

Note

I got to see you tonight, you, little you all the way up, from the penultimate row of the circle section of seats. Row W seat 45. In the opera house that is, and when I left I looked back to marvel at it at 11 pm at night.

It was illuminated by the city, a bat flew above I could make out as well as I made you out down on stage, glowing in light, and I like to believe the bat sang; perhaps of umbrellas.

I have wanted to message you. I have spent hours studying your tumbler reblogs and likes (I google you♪) and QnAs and don't dare ask about good omens. You've heard it enough and if you don't know that it will end in a garden just like it began then what do I know. I've never had enough of an excuse before...

Before tonight; so here I am in your inbox to say I really adored your poem written on the 26th of January, 2011 did you say? It really moved me and made something felt heard that I long to hear screamed from all.

You wouldn't of seen me crying, and I kept it as quiet as possible in hopes no one around me heard either. My heart couldn't hold all the vibrations, the beautiful and elegant yet wild Fourplay, and the song the bat in your chest sang that I got to hear was all too full and heavy and light and joyful for me. Little me in the back, with no date, with Shaun tans older work (the arrival) in ink on my flesh, with a copy of equal rites in my bag that if for some random chance I bumped into you, British you in my city, I would bother and beg you to sign it, plagiarizing Terry's signature. And maybe even ask you , if it wasn't too much trouble, to hug it for me.

I forgot the exact phrase but was it the fight of flesh? Something about flesh that meant something similar to pickling and tickling. I really quite liked that bit too. I enjoyed almost all of it, and wanted to apologise for how dead the packed house was. I was too nervous to stand for your final applause; I can only assume everyone being in THE Sydney Opera house in front of THE Neil Gaiman and THE fourplay quartett was, and was saddened to see not many pick up on your hints to beg you all for more. It was a sad walk back to the mic I must say. Not on your shoulders mind you, your wordcraft made the evening a magical memory I will not forget it. Thank you very kindly Neil ♡

You are so sweet. Thank you. (Don't worry. We didn't have anything left for another encore, and we had a curfew so had to be off the stage.)

I'll check on the lyric and let you know in a reblog.

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scalingsvt8thusiast · 5 months

Text

Drabbles: Brooklyn Baby (with Mingyu)

The bar was packed with people rubbing shoulders and sipping overpriced beer.

Waving to the bartender, you settled into your seat by the counter. Minghao sent you a smile and started filling a pint with your favourite beer.

You scanned the crowd, spotting a few familiar faces. Jeonghan and Joshua chatting happily in a booth. Jun was by the pool table with a few of his friends. You even spotted Jihoon sitting on his own in a little corner. On any other day, you’d probably join one of your friends, today, however, you were late after coming from a previous appointment.

Loud feedback from the microphone put all the buzzing conversation to rest, the attention now on the stage.

Your boyfriend stood next to his bandmates, looking ever so gorgeous with a bass guitar hanging off his shoulder.

Tonight Mingyu was in a black top that showed off his arms nicely. You could see the way his muscles contracted as he played the guitar. Ever the heart throb, Mingyu would send a few winks to some girls when he noticed them staring.

You sipped your drink as you enjoyed the familiar music.

When the band finished their set, people stood up to cheer, some screaming for an encore. The boys set down their instruments and came down from the stage. Girls immediately surrounded Seokmin, his face turning red from all the attention. Seungcheol joined Jeonghan and Joshua at their table, a pint of beer magically appearing in his hand. Wonwoo joined Jihoon after sending Jun a greeting.

Mingyu made his way towards you. He had to cross the entire bar to reach you. It was comical how many girls had hopeful looks on their faces as he moved in your direction, their faces turned sour as soon as they realised he was just passing through.

You hopped off the bar stool as Mingyu approached. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you towards him.

“Hey baby,” He breathed.

His other hand guiding your chin, bringing you to meet his eyes.

“Hey, handsome.” A lazy smile on your face as you gripped his arms.

He smirked before leaning down to give you a kiss.

Your lips melded with his as he tightened his grip around you. You moaned in content, satisfied after a long day of work.

You pulled away and giggled at the way your boyfriend chased your lips.

Sighing, you circled your arm around Mingyu’s neck. Your faces still close enough so your lips were touching.

“My boyfriend’s pretty cool.” You murmured.

“Yeah?” He whispered, giving you small kiss as you spoke.

“He’s in a band.”

Mingyu hummed, enjoying the way your lips moved against his.

“He plays guitar.”

“He can do more than play guitar.” He whispered.

“But he’s not as cool as me.”

“Mmm, I agree.” Mingyu muttered, his half lidded eyes filled with love.

a/n: i woke up this morning singing brooklyn baby (literally never heard it before) and thought that Mingyu would be a good centre for this song :D

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justghoulythingz · 4 months

Text

curled smoke and gossamer clouds

an au in which you and cooper howard get snug as a bug in a rug inside a photo-booth at the county fair.

pairing : cooper howard/afab reader

word count : 1.3k

warnings : sentimental horniness, finger banging in a confined space, desperate grinding, light praise kink, cooper being a genuinely kind, suave motherfucker. 18+, mdni

writing tag

gif credit

divider credit

The photo-booth is a snug fit, perfect for two adults enjoying an evening straight out of their youth. You taste like cotton candy and he smells like cigarettes. A contrast that melts into one another smoothly, painting a picture of curled smoke and gossamer clouds.

His words are spun sugar in your ear, your laughter hoarse and secretive in his.

“‘Member the first fair we went to?” Cooper reminisces, tracing circles along your abdomen.

Your initial pose is looming, so you stare at the lens, anticipation for more (always more) of him beginning behind your ribs and spanning your limbs.

You make sure to smile before you answer, the timer moving faster than the leisurely pace at which you like to experience these moments.

Outside, you hear muffled conversations and the buzzing of insects. It’s industrious farm land and the pleasures of city life combined. An eight o’clock hue beneath the curtain. Summer.

Every day is a summer’s night with Cooper Howard.

“God, I was so nervous,” you finally reply, and the deep rumble of his own laughter tickles your backside.

His thighs flex. As they distract you, pressed so tightly to yours that they’ve started to stick, one of his hands slips through the dense humidity to caress the front of your hip.

You twitch. He grins, award-winning. Your heart demands an encore.

“Scared outta your wits by a harebrained ranch hand, were ya?” he teases, peppering kisses along your throat, the shell of your ear. Right where you feel the thunder of the ocean.

The second photograph captures your full-tooth smile, glancing toward the floor, his smirk buried in your throat.

“Who is this harebrained ranch hand you’re referrin’ to? Because I distinctly remember a very determined teenage boy who excelled at everything he put his mind to. Hell, you even got me t’talk. Remember how mousy I was?”

Your speech warms him, igniting a flame, a match struck by fingertips grazing the sinew of your inner thigh. You inhale as if sparks flew directly from its tautness. He speaks against your straining tendons, watching you swallow.

“I can still make ya squeak, darlin’,” he purrs, nuzzling the bridge of his nose into you. A fever passes on to the sweet softness of your lower belly, fluttering like the wings on the other side of this maroon curtain.

In retaliation, you roll your eyes and your hips, hard. Cooper groans, his other hand sliding upward toward the curve of your swathed breast.

“‘Sides, y’weren’t mousy. Jus’ selective. I felt pretty damn lucky y’chose t’have me in your winner’s circle. You were always someone I wanted t’impress.”

You sigh contentedly: charmed, transported, as the third picture snaps.

“Coop,” you breathe, lips ghosting his. He lifts the hem of your dress, its airy texture silken against the heat dampening your skin. “You’re a naturally impressive person. Never had t’try so hard.”

He roams the length of your body, squeezing you, dipping lithe fingers between your clenched thighs. Your underwear is like a glistening veneer of dew blanketing early morning grass. His dull nails split your supple folds through the white fabric, stroking you lovingly.

The gaze you’re met with is rife with affection, adoration, ardor. Witnessing how you unfurl within its grove; how alluring you appear, how beautiful he is; causes your stomach to seize. It clamps down around everything and nothing and suddenly thaws.

The tranquility of winter, then the newness of spring.

You moan quietly, tenderly. All for him.

He stiffens underneath the pressure you provide, solidifying the more noise you make, the more you squirm.

“I wanted to.” Cooper’s voice echoes that smoker’s rasp, an amorous break. “I already told y’that. I want to. For you- ain’t that what you want? A fella who aims for your sky an’ doesn’t miss a single speck?”

Instinctively, you swallow him whole with your outstretched pupils. He lulls and stimulates you, grip on his pant leg firm, yielding, firm, yielding.

He finds specks you neglected to name. Reaches somewhere beyond the pines and hits the overwhelming enormity of space. Somehow, he makes it seem attainable.

“I want you, no matter what sky you’re aimin’ for.”

The fourth and final still is as intimate as a carnation fastened to the lapel of a school boy’s jacket, restless as he waits for his prom date at the bottom of the stairs. Dodging scrutinizing glances from her parents. Complexion reflecting streaks of sunlight as he follows her descent, standing straighter, shoulders pinned behind him.

There’s no one else in the room.

You have your arms around Cooper, drawing him closer until whatever gap remains is filled entirely with avid mouths and Elysian Fields. You live and die as many times as you devour and bring him back, returning hungrily to the parting of his lips while he delves between yours.

“Well, right now,” he grunts against you, accelerating, shifting, sneaking digits inside your panties. “I’m fixin’ for you t’cum. All over this pretty, pretty dress.”

He slots a finger beneath one of your straps, eluding the shawl decorating your shoulders, and playfully snaps it against your kindled flesh.

“All over me.”

Words are trapped in your chest as you nod. Anticipation and longing hang in the expanse of tongue and cheek, lingering like a raw scratch in the throat.

You whimper, almost wounded, as he massages your panty line, pinching and fondling the elastic like he hasn’t already made an incredible mess of you. Like you aren’t about to be ravaged inside a very small, very public photo-booth.

You are his sole focus as he ultimately succumbs to your shared desire, jaw clenching and pointing toward the ceiling while staring you down the heavy lids of his eyes.

Panting, you spread as wide as limited room allows, scuffing one of your kitten heels on the ground below. It scrapes along solid surface, sending tremors up your calf toward the tingling of your scalp, pulled by the roots.

He nods out of encouragement, mouthing whispered praises of that’s it, baby, that’s it, dulcet tones making you wetter, your release steadily building.

Like he’s aiming for.

Holding you stable, Cooper’s opposite palm fastens to your lower back, clutching you, feeling the rigidity of your spine bump into his fingertips. Added weight shoots directly to your cunt, squeezing his middle and ring finger, coaxing a breathless moan from his lungs.

“Fuck. Yes. Gettin’ close. C’mon, sugar. Gimme somethin’ sweet t’taste.”

He throbs beneath you, undulating, thrusting the littlest bit upward. You salivate at the mere imprint of his intoxicating arousal, giving him friction as you rock back and forth.

Driving him deeper inside, his thumb swirls your clit and you dip backward, exposing the slender column of your throat.

Seizing the opportunity, he sinks his head into your open, thrumming chest, cleavage cushioning and hardening him further. Fingers work faster, applying ample pressure that gathers in your belly and blossoms, stemming to each and every inaccessible part.

Your strangled gasps, both of you attempting to keep these matters private, blend and bleed together as your orgasm plunges outside of you, gushing all over the digits that gradually still.

Cooper doesn’t wait for your heart to cease its racket. He leans away and leaves you empty, a stream of restrained essence draining from you and onto his lap.

He pops fingers into his mouth, one by one, including his thumb. Humming satisfactorily, he samples them like he’s on his fourth course. Then he offers you to yourself.

You observe him past a rose-colored haze, cotton-candy film. Gripping his wrist, you bring his center digit to your lips first, wrapping your tongue around its length, moaning as the salty summer air of you brushes your senses. Tar from his cigarettes mingle with what you originally picked up on, easing in like banter on a date.

Cooper reminds you that he loves you. Loves watching you enjoy yourself. Loves being the cause of it.

You return the sentiment, reluctant to untangle your body from his. You’ve already tangled up this booth much longer than necessary.

You are, however, excited to see how the pictures turned out.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul #ghoul #fallout #walton goggins #my writing #oneshot #curled smoke and gossamer clouds #SCREAMING INTO THE VOID #dexter’s mom from dexter’s lab voice MY PRE WAR COOP FIC IS COMPLETED!!!#god i hope i got his voice i hope you like it #feedback is always appreciated 🥹 tysm!!!

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1onescu · 3 months

Note

ok lolol this is kinda cliche but. i think it's cute still! can i request an ayanna x ballerina reader?? like the reader cld be a ballerina who's friends with azzi and she basically tries to teach the girls a class and ayanna is like crushing lol. and it would be cute cuz the reader knows ayanna is crushing and keeps teasing her. ok ty! sorry for the yap session.

𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 - ayanna patterson

The sun was setting over Storrs, Connecticut, casting a golden hue over the UConn campus. In the Huskies’ practice gym, the usual sound of squeaking sneakers and bouncing basketballs was replaced with the graceful strains of classical music. Today was different. Today, the women's basketball team was trading their jerseys for leotards and tights.

"Alright, gather 'round!" Azzi clapped her hands, trying to get the attention of her teammates. "Today’s practice is going to be a little different. Today, Y/N here is going to teach us some ballet."

Y/N, a ballerina with a graceful poise and a warm smile, stepped forward. "Hi, everyone! This should be fun. Ballet is great for flexibility, balance, and control—all things you can use on the court."

Ayanna's face warmed up as Y/N looked around the circle of athletes. She had been nursing a crush on Y/N ever since Azzi had introduced them. Today, Ayanna felt both excited and nervous; she wanted to impress Y/N but was also worried about making a fool of herself.

Kk, nudged Ayanna. "You ready to pirouette, Yanna?"

Ayanna rolled her eyes, felling the heat warm up her face. "Shut up, Kk."

Y/N began with some simple stretches, guiding the team through each movement with patience. "Remember, it's all about control. Feel the stretch but don't push too hard."

Paige,her competitive self, tried to match Y/N’s flexibility, earning a chuckle from Ice. "Careful, Paige. You don’t want to pull something."

Nika, with her usual energy, was attempting every move with gusto, even if her form was far from perfect. "This is harder than it looks!" she exclaimed, wobbling on one leg.

Kk was having a hard time taking it seriously. She mimicked Y/N's moves in an exaggerated manner, earning laughs from the team. "Kk, you’re supposed to be a swan, not a chicken," Y/N told her.

"Hey, chickens can be graceful too!" Kk shot back, flapping her arms wildly and clucking.

Y/N tried to maintain her composure. "Alright, let’s try some partner work. Yanna, why don't you come up here and help me demonstrate?" Y/N asked her, as she flashed her million dollar smile.

Ayanna’s heart skipped a beat. "Uh, sure."

They moved to the center of the room, and Y/N guided Ayanna through a series of simple steps. "Just follow my lead," Y/N said, giving Ayanna an encouraging smile.

Kk, unable to resist, started humming a romantic tune, earning a few giggles from the team and a glare from Ayanna. Paige joined in, pretending to be an opera singer, her off-key notes echoing through the gym.

"Alright, Kk, Paige, pair up let's see you try it," Y/N said, grinning.

The gym filled with laughter and the occasional yelp as the basketball players tried their best to mimic the elegant movements. Y/N moved around the room, offering tips and encouragement, but she couldn’t help but keep an eye on Ayanna, who was doing surprisingly well.

"You’re a natural, Yanna," Y/N said as she passed by, giving her a teasing smile. Ayanna’s heart soared at the compliment.

Nika, meanwhile, was struggling to balance on one leg. "This is impossible! How do you make it look so easy?"

Ice tried to help, but her idea of assistance was to lift Nika off the ground. "See? Now you don't have to balance at all!"

Nika flailed in Ice's arms. "Put me down, Ice!"

Kk and Paige, having given up on actual ballet, started a comedic rendition of Swan Lake, complete with dramatic flops and exaggerated twirls. "Look at us, we're prima ballerinas!" Paige announced, pretending to faint into Kk's arms.

"Encore!" Y/N cheered, doubling over with laughter.

"Alright, everyone, let's settle down a bit," Y/N said. "Let's focus on some basic jumps next. They're great for building power in your legs."

Kk immediately jumped into action, leaping around like a kangaroo. "How's this for power?" she shouted mid-air, nearly colliding with Paige, who ducked just in time.

"Kk, we’re not trying to fly here," Y/N said, laughing.

The team lined up, attempting the jumps with varying degrees of success. Ayanna, focused on impressing Y/N, put in extra effort. Y/N noticed and decided to have a little fun.

"Looking good, Yan," Y/N said as she passed by, giving her a teasing smile once again. Y/N walked over to Yanna bringing her to the center again, Kk couldn’t help herself. "Cue the romantic music!" she called out, earning more laughs and a mock bow from Paige.

Y/N guided Ayanna through a series of turns. "Just remember to spot," she said, demonstrating the technique. "It helps you keep your balance and direction."

Ayanna tried to follow Y/N’s instructions, her eyes meeting Y/N’s with each turn. "Like this?"

"Perfect," Y/N said, giving her an approving nod.

As the class progressed, the team grew more comfortable with the movements. There were plenty of mishaps—Paige accidentally kicking Nika, Ice tripping over her own feet, and Kk’s ongoing comedic commentary—but everyone was having a great time.

By the end of the session, the team was exhausted but smiling. They gathered in a circle, panting and laughing. "Thanks, Y/N. That was amazing," Azzi said, clapping her on the back.

"Yeah, we should do this more often," Paige added, stretching out her sore muscles.

Y/N walked up to Ayanna and smiled, a playful glint in her eye. "You did great, Yanna. Maybe we can have a private lesson sometime?" Ayanna’s eyes widened, and she stammered, "Uh, yeah, I’d like that."

Kk, overhearing, couldn’t resist one last tease. "Looks like someone’s got a new favorite sport."

Y/N and Ayanna both laughed, and Ayanna felt her nervousness melt away. Maybe this crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

As the team left the gym, Ayanna found herself walking beside Y/N. "So, about that private lesson…"

Y/N grinned. "How about tomorrow after practice?"

"Sounds perfect."

#wlw #lesbian #uconn wbb #ayanna patterson #ayanna patterson x reader #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn lives #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader #wcbb #kk arnold #paige bueckers #nika muhl #ice brady #azzi fudd #uconn wcbb #wcbb x reader #ncaa wbb

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lesbiankimdahyun · 3 months

Text

CONTRACT LOVER

746 words

CW: A/B/O dynamics

A!MiSaMo x F!O!Reader (SFW)

You adjusted your mask and pulled your ball cap down a little further as you followed a staff member down a lengthy hallway inside JYPE’s headquarters. The practice rooms you passed were faintly familiar from the last time you’d been here to meet Jihyo, but familiarity did nothing to calm your nerves. Your heartbeat quickened when the staffer stopped in front of a room toward the end of the hall and knocked softly. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other to give yourself something to do as the two of you waited in awkward silence. Finally, the door opened from the other side, but only the staff member entered, leaving you and your racing heart alone outside.

It had been well over a year since you last had worked for the TWICE Alphas and traveled overseas with them for a full leg of their world tour. Now, with a MISAMO comeback in the works and encore tour dates expected, JYPE had wasted no time in inviting you to a negotiation meeting with the three Alphas of the popular subunit.

Except, you realized, the ‘meeting’ was just you crashing one of the group’s dance rehearsals. It was a bit humiliating, but you were used to it in your line of work. Nothing was official, you knew, until you received verbal and written approval from all Alpha co-signers. Although the Alphas were already personally familiar with you from last year, they’d each been given updated photos of you to review. They’d approved, which is why you were here now at their request.

The practice room door opened just then, and you took a breath before stepping inside. The three of them had wanted to look at you in person, you realized, before signing off on the drafted contract. The staff quickly cleared everyone else out of the room except the choreographer, another Alpha who pretended to busy herself with choreography notes and video footage as Momo, Sana and Mina took a break from rehearsal and eyed you from the other side of the room. As if on cue, you watched as their noses turned up ever so slightly while taking in your scent. You locked eyes with Sana first, who was fixing her hair while looking at you through the floor-to-ceiling length mirrors that made up one full wall of the room.

“Oh I remember you,” she said, offering you a polite smile. She gestured for you to remove your mask and hat, and you did quickly. Momo yawned as she watched you shake out your hair. She sat on the floor, her back resting against the mirror. She gave you a quick once-over, then looked over at Mina.

“Mina-chan, what do you think? Does she look as good as you remember?” Momo’s teasing comment made Sana giggle. Your face went pink, but then Mina approached you shyly, offering a small wave and bow in your direction.

“Y/N,” she said with a smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

You bowed your head toward her and then to the others. “You too,” you said meekly. You opened your mouth as if to say more but then closed it, unsure of yourself suddenly. It was intimidating to be in front of them again after so much time had passed. You smiled at the three of them nervously.

Momo got up and stretched. Her white tank top rose up along her abdomen as she moved, giving you a glimpse of her picture-perfect abs. While you did your best to hide your staring, Sana came over and stood beside Mina. Your eyes broke away from Momo when the middle Alpha twirled some of your dark hair around her fingers.

“Have you grown out your hair, Y/N?” she asked. You nodded a little. She released your dark locks. “It looks good,” she said approvingly.

Momo was up on her feet now. She walked in a slow circle around you while Mina and Sana continued to make polite small talk with you for another minute or so.

Finally, Momo nodded and signaled for the practice studio door to open again. The three of them left your side to scribble their initials on a piece of paper that was then stuffed into an envelope and pressed into your hands.

“Your schedule will be emailed to you later,” a staff member told you, gesturing for you to follow her out.

“See you soon,” Sana called after you as you left.

#twice a/b/o #twice imagines #twice abo #twice x f!reader #twice x y/n

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ki-yomii · 1 year

Text

encore | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

➥ word count | 871

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, established relationship, edging, handjob, teasing, switch!jk, orgasm control, soft dom!reader

➥summary | continuation of two for the show

➥ notes | for @keroppitae, hopefully you enjoy this one just as much 😘

🤎 series masterlist | masterlist | inbox | AO3 🤎

“Just relax,” you breathe, mouth tracing along the cut of Jungkook’s jaw, feeling the muscles bunch and flex against your tongue, “You asked, so let me take care of you now.”

Ever since you walked in on him with a fistful of your panties and a guilty consciousness, you’ve been taunting him. However long ago that was, you’re not sure.

The sparks of sadistic pleasure as you wring precious little whimpers out of him with every teasing half-stoke blur together until you’re throbbing between your thighs, and Jungkook’s desperate and dripping.

Jungkook’s taking it so well, looks as pretty as a picture; spilled across the soaked sheets like an oil painting. The messy briar of his hair clings to his furrowed brow in thick, sweaty clumps.

His slick body glitters with every rolling flex of his hips, his thick cock rutting up into the elusive grasp of your hand.

Whenever he presses a little too firm, thrusts a little too deep into the circle of your fingers, you pull away - a little game that makes him clench and groan in displeasure, pre-cum dripping from the flushed head.

“My handsome baby.” You hum in the back of your throat, stroking your finger up the side of his shaft before lightly digging your nail into the weeping slit. “So big and strong.”

“Shit!” Jungkook hisses, his head slamming back against the pillow. His body jolts, thighs tense and hips twitching as his cock bobs against his stomach.

When he says your name, he sounds absolutely wrecked, “P-Please, that feels - that feels so - hng! Ohmygod.”

Pausing, you appreciate the debauched sight your boyfriend makes, a bloom of satisfaction unfurling in your chest. God, he’s so gorgeous like this - it’s hard to believe he’s all yours. So fucking lucky.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“Baby, seriously, I can’t…” Jungkook pants, another spurt of clear fluid dribbling down the back of your knuckles. The tips of his ears are cherry red, his pupils blown wide. “No more.”

“But you’re doing such a good job for me,” you reply. As much of a punishment as it is a treat, you tighten your grip on his shaft, tracing the thick vein running up along the underside. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

Hands fisting in the sheets, Jungkook yanks hard as his broad chest rises into a pleasing arch, his abs clenching with overstimulation. “– Haaah fuck.”

“Mm, you look so hot like this. Can’t wait for you to fuck me with this big cock, spread me open and stuff me full.”

He whines.

You smile, and suck at the crook of his neck, lashing your tongue over his thrumming pulse. When you speak, your voice is a lust-filled whisper in his ear, “Would you like that, Kookie - wanna put that big cock of yours in my pretty little pussy?”

The lack of a response makes you frown, and you grind your palm into the sensitive tip of his erection in retaliation. “Not gonna answer me, huh?”

Thrashing in place, Jungkook simultaneously tries to buck up into your touch and escape from the overwhelming waves of pleasure. He’s been edged over and over for the last hour or so, his nerves quickly approaching the point of pain.

You know he won’t be able to take much more - he’s about to burst, pressure building behind his hips.

“Gonna - shit - ‘m gonna...” Heels dig into the mattress, his toes curling in the sheets as his balls draw up towards his body, swollen with cum and aching for release. “Baby - baby, can I? Please, wanna cum.”

His breath hitches desperately, every word a pleasure drunk slur as his eyes meet yours, hazy and fucked out. His mouth is slack, lips puffy and bitten raw. His tongue darts out to swipe along his lip ring.

Beautiful.

“I don’t know…” You smirk, reaching down to tug at his balls. “Are you sure?”

He strains against your touch, gasping, “Please!”

The impending orgasm’s about to slam into him with all the force of a semi-truck, his body locking up as the pit of heat in his belly flares and ecstasy burns through his blood.

Your hand is so soft and warm and wet, and he’s so so close…

“Can’t - fuuuuck, I’m - I’m -”

He gulps down air, his chest heaving with every stuttered breath. His hips rut up into the circle of your slick fist, ready to blow his load. The rhythmic squeeze of your hand milks him for all he’s worth, his cock jerking once, twice and then -

You pull your hand off his cock, dragging your nails along the base of his shaft as a parting gift. A wounded noise leaves him, his desperate little cry making your pussy clench.

Jungkook slumps against the bed with a hoarse cry of your name, a puppet with cut strings.

Little tremors shake through his limbs, his muscles twitching with aftershocks. His face is slack, his eyes glassy. A weak pulse of cum drools from the swollen head, pooling in the dip of his belly.

“Not yet, Kook,” you say, wicking away the spit clinging to his bottom lip, “Want you inside me first. Think you can handle that, baby?”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic

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gegewrites · 1 year

Text

Dr.house- Encore(smut)

Pre leg, no Stacy.

Again not edited.

2/24/23

Houses pov-

I lightly bit down of the inside corner of lip, my fingers dancing over the keys of the piano. i don’t like Mondays, by the Boomtown Rats filled the apartment. (Y/n) was coming home late, she was teaching a night class at the hospital. Transplant lecture, sounds boring. Since the clock on wall said it was 10:05 she should be back any minute.

My fingers trailed off from the original tune to just playing the keys in random Rhythms. I started to loose track the time, falling into the music.

The moment of peace was cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing.

“How was it?” I asked as the lock latched and I heard her shoes getting kicked off.

“Only four of the kids are going places.” Her arms slid over my shoulders to sit on my chest , as her chin sat on my right shoulder. I felt her weight relax onto me.

“Seems like the right statistic.” I remarked, leaning my head onto hers. I let my fingers trail to a stop, my right hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. She let out a hum, starting to stand she kissed my temple. Her fingers trialing up my shirt and sat on my shoulders for a second.

“I’m getting out of these clothes.” I watched her as she started walking away.

“Need some help?” I offered and she shook her head with a light chuckle as she turned the corner to the hallway.

Your pov-

I walked out of the bedroom, and padded down the hall. in his Death Valley shirt and a pair of panties. I was gonna go to sleep In a bit, but I wanted to talk to him first.

He was still playing the piano, that’s the one thing I’d never argue about.

“What’d you leave off with?” I asked as I turned into the living room, walking behind the couch.

“Should be discharged in the morning, he’s on observation for the night.” He took his hands away from the piano and straddled the bench as I came closer. His hands sat on my hips and slid to my ass as I sat down on his lap.

“Good.” I placed a small kiss to his lips which he leaned onto, holding me tightly against him. As arms draped over his shoulders. I pulled my face away from him,”I have another class Saturday.”

“Late?”

“Ends at ten.” I pecked his lips . His hands slid further down my ass, holding the bottom of it in his palms. I could feel his fingertips against my skin, his thumbs rubbed soft and tight circles on the fabric of my panties, simultaneously squeezing it.

“Do you really prefer lecture to clinic duty?” He leaned forward snd I tilted my head. He pressed his lips against my skin, the slight stubble he had on his upper lip and chin tickling it.

“Hell no.” I giggled, feeling his teeth start nipping at my neck,”but it gets me a bonus when I get paid.”

“Didn’t know about that.” He pulled away from me. his brows furrowed, his right brow cocked slightly.

“I just found out.” My hands slid to the back of his head and moved his head back to my neck,”makes it worth it.”

I pushed my body into him a little bit more, his hand left me, taking hold of the Fall and shut it over the pianos Keys. His tongue swiped over my pulse point, I tugged at his hair trying to get him to divert from the area. Not a very professional thing, and I happen to like my reputation at the hospital. He didn’t move away, his teeth made contact with my skin as his lips sucked on it. His pressure getting harder, wanting a dark colored mark.

“Are you being serious right now?” He popped off my neck and placed a kiss to the area and leaned back a bit to look at me.

“So a hickey is considered unprofessional in your book, yet being on your knees under my not private desk…isn’t?” He raised his brow, his hands trailing up from my ass and under my shirt, his index and middle fingers hooking into the band that sat along my hips.

“Yes, the hickey lasts for a good week, you can see it. Blowing you only lasts 7 minutes and you have blinds in your office.” I informed him and he nodded slowly. His blue eyes drifted from mine to my neck.

“Might wanna wear a turtle neck to work.” I rolled my eyes in annoyance as his hands started slowly pulling my panties down. Because I was straddling him he wouldn’t be able to get them off, so I moved off of him.

When I stood, he moved closer to me, still on the bench. I slowly slid my panties down my legs and kicked them away. His hands reached to my thighs, pulling me closer to him, still standing. He looked up at me for a few seconds, his finger tips brushing over the front of my thigh before cupping my pussy.

“You get wet very easily. You must really like me.” He commented, his middle finger running through my slit, pressing in deeper till he was rubbing from my clit to my core.

“Mmhm.” I hummed, placing my hand over the one holding my hip under my shirt, the other holding his shoulder.

He stood up, letting his finger drag over my clit, his hand grazing over my side as he became taller. Quickly his hands moved to my ass as he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine and I responded quickly to him. Moving my lips in sync with his as he grabbed my ass harder, kind of pulling me up to my toes. Suddenly I heard the bench get pushed back and his weight shifted as his lips left mine.

“Jump.” He said against my lips so I did. He held me against him, one arm holding under my ass the other around my waist. My legs were wrapped around him, and I leaned down to catch his lips again.

He held me there for a minute, heatedly kissing me before turning, bouncing me up to grab under my thighs.

I felt the cold wood of the pianos lid on my ass and I gasped into the kiss and he stood between my legs, holding the back of my knees and pulled away. I leaned on my arms which were propped behind me.

“What are-“ I was cut off my him promptly.

“Please let me do this.” He pleaded, his tone wasn’t Whiny, still had his serious tinge to it. It sounded almost like he was about to preform a risky procedure that would save my life. It probably will.

“I’m not cumming on a ten thousand dollar piano Greg.” My eyes widened at him and he stared at me blankly.

“Why not cum on a ten thousand dollar piano?”he asked me as if he denying it was insane.”you have not once fantasized about this?”

“A couple times yeah, but I’m not ruining it.”

“You’re not gonna ruin it. The keys are covered and the lids shut. Nothings gonna get into it and you’re definitely not gonna break it.” He leaned closer to my face,”so lay back cause I’m doing it anyways.”

He pulled my knees up and placed them over his shoulders. He looked at me with a face of impatience, and I sighed as I laid back on my forearms. His hand left my leg and pushed me down by my chest so i was flat on the lid.

His stubbled tickled the inside of my thigh as his hands held into the top of my thighs, keeping the held open as he kissed his way to my wet slit.

He placed a kiss above my clit before licking a broad strip over my lips. His tongue coming back down to slide back up, spreading my lips apart. I let a breathy moan when his tongue started to swirl around my clit. My body fully relaxed onto the piano, my fingers curled over the end of the piano, holding onto it. His tongue started flicking at my clit, slowly become more languid. Reaching my slick dripped core. the tip of his tongue dipped in before coming back up to my clit. his lips tightened around it, giving it a harsh suck, ripping a moan from my throat as my thighs flexed, my knees trying to press his head in between them. But, his bruising grip on my thighs kept them open.

He kept his pattern going; his tongue dipping into my core, licking back to my clit and giving it a few harsh sucks, and repeating.

“Oh god ,Greg.” I moaned out, my shoulder blades pushing down onto the piano, my back arched and a hand went into his hair. My chest started rising more visibly, deep fast breaths. I felt my spine tingle every few seconds, the feeling of my slick dropping down my skin, his stubble scratching against the inside of my thighs absorbed my brain.

Then two long fingers slid into my core, he wasted no time to start pumping them in and out. Moans escaped my lips, the sounds ringing through his ears causing him to groan around my clit.

“Oh my god.” My voice shook through the whole phrase, I felt a knot forming inside of me as his fingers worked faster. His tongue lapping at my clit.

I could feel how wet I was and I could hear it. I pushed my hips into his face, my grip on his hair tightened and he didn’t fight it, he kept his actions and speed, except for the deeper curl in his fingers, rubbing right against my gspot.

“Ye-yes!Goood, just like that!” My abdomen tightened, my eyes were shut even tighter, they haven’t been open since my body first relaxed. When I felt like I was gonna cum he slowed down, snd I let out pathetic whimper. Rocked my hips into his face again, try to get him back to his previous pace.

I stopped doing that when i hard a minor key on the piano play. He was still standing, his fingers still inside of me, my lips and tongue still working my clit. But now he was also starting to play the piano…with his face buried in between my legs. My moans grew louder, the louder I got the harder he pressed the keys, the more into it he got.

His fingers made their way back to the original pace, and Soon enough he had me cumming on his fingers and chin, my heels Dug into his back, my nails scratching at the back of his skull. A near scream of a moan left my throat my my hand flew over to cover my mouth before it could really rip out, muffling it into my palm. The music helped to silence it more, the neighbors would definitely rather hear the piano then me.

He slowly came to a stop, his tongue left my clit and his fingers slid out of me. The music stopped. My hand slipped off my face snd My back finally touched the lid of the piano again and I heard him Hum, i looked at him through half lidded eyes, licking my cum off his fingers, his chin and upper lip wet. I propped up on my forearms.

“Still regret saying no?” He bent down, moving the bench under him and sat down, I could still see his face. Something I like about Greg is his height. Six foot two. Hard to not see him.

My legs were still over his shoulders, his eyes focused on the keys he was playing. This was a new song, something random he started playing.

“Holy fuck.” I sighed, laying back down on the lid, my eye lids were heavy and I let them close. I could almost feel the vibrations of the piano in my pulse. I let myself fade into the music, listening and feeling it. It was perfect for coming down.

I noticed when the music started slowing down, my eyes opened after it stopped completely.

“Piano still works.” He noted, I heard the fall close and my legs rides as he stood up. He took hold of my knees and slid my legs off his shoulders,”come on, sit up.”

He grabbed my wrist and I turned it in his grasp to take hold or it from the underside. With his help I sat up, he grabbed my waist and lifted me off the piano.

My legs nearly gave out the minute my feet touched the floor.

“Oh shit!” I yelped, thinking I was gonna fall, I didn’t though, his grip slid to my ribs in the process and he pulled me onto him.

“Just cause you can’t walk already does not, in any way, mean we’re done.” His arm wrapped around my back, his other coming down to take hold behind my knees, picking me up bridal style,”seeing you limp around the hospital tomorrow is going to be very amusing.”

“The piano Greg.” I reminded him as he started walking away from it.

“Yeah yeah, it will get cleaned.” He rolled his eyes at me as he turned into the hallway, aimed towards the bedroom.

“Tonight.” I stressed.

“Tomorrow, I’ll even polish with my tongue, how about that?” He pushed open the door with his foot.

I let out a laugh and his lil curled with a grin before tossing me onto the bed without warning. My back contacting the blue sheeted mattress with a slight creak from the bed frame. He started undoing the buttons from his shirt, taking his time. His eyes slowly looking me up and down before looking around the room.

“What?” I asked furrowing my brows lightly.

“Where’s my harmonica? Time for an encore.”

#gegewrites #fanfiction #smut writer #dr house smut #greg house #greg house smut #greg house x reader #dr. house #house md smut #house md #house md fanfiction

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fanaticsnail · 10 months

Text

Shimmy - Part 4 (Conclusion) SMUT

This is part 4 to the dance series between the acrobatic reader, Mihawk and Buggy. I tweaked it after my earlier apprehension and nearly doubled the word count to do so.

(Thank you @sordidmusings for being an absolute sunshine of an individual, always: especially with coaxing the plot out of me)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Masterlist.

Word count: 4,097

Warnings: smut, throuple dynamics, threesome, porn with plot, balancing act of two very different individuals.

You relinquished your grasp on the two hands of the men by your side, choosing to instead lace your arms within the crook of Mihawk’s elbow, resting your head on his shoulder while circling your arm around the waist of your captain and pull him flush against your side.

You all walked perfectly in tow towards your crew quarters; your brows furrowing at the thought that; you had no prior dalliances with either men within your bedroom. You would always travel to one or the other’s base to share a night with them, but never in your own space. They both respected your boundary in that sense, which you appreciated whole-heartedly.

Having a sense of minor apprehension and a giddy anxiety fall over you; you shook the thoughts of breaking away from your commitment to the joining with both of them just by exhaling deeply through your lips after feeling truly comforted by their willingness to be all together.

Mihawk trailed his eyes down to your body, gaze focussing on the top of your head as he began to feel as anxious as you did earlier. He had been in prior entanglements with more than one individual prior; but none he truly felt anything other than lust for. This was you, the prized acrobat in Buggy’s troop of miscellaneous outcasts. You, his lover: with your spouse cradled against you beneath your other arm.

The three of you had red smeared lips, glitter clinging to your faces and hair as from your prior affectionate embrace after your intervention with your acrobatic partner, Jac. He was surprised at the clown’s willingness to share you with him privately; but now to share you publicly between the two of you: completely untested waters.

Buggy closed his eyes as he inhaled your perfumed neck, finding comfort in your warm touch while feeling waves of anticipation shrouding his lust for you. He wanted you, and he knew the broody warlord also harboured a piece of your heart. This was never primarily lust for him, this was you. His acrobat, his spotlight and his spouse whom he truly loved. You, who had enough room within your heart for two gentlemen privately; now willing to expose your lust for them both in the same room together.

This little dance had all but drawn to a close, the curtain falling after a successful and well executed performance. Could you truly handle an encore of greater refrain; a juggling act of push and pull to navigate two bodies in a dalliance together?

Buggy reached for the door handle to your bedroom, meeting the tips of his fingers against Mihawk’s who had also descended to the brass knob. An air of awkwardness falling between you, you sighed and broke away from the embrace and stepped forward to open your door with a small giggle.

“I think we might all need a drink,” you suggested to the gentlemen as you ushered them both into your room after you; tugging first Buggy within your chambers before lacing your fingertips with Mihawk’s and remaining joined to the dark-haired warlord.

“I think,” Mihawk drew his face into your own and held his lips a small distance away from your lips, “we should wait until afterwards.”

You smiled as you pressed your lips once more against Mihawk’s, closing your eyes and truly leaning into his body affectionately. It was always playing in the peripherals of your mind that your captain was standing by and watching you engage in open mouthed affection with your warlord.

As you attempted to reach for your spouse, you found Mihawk’s arm already approaching him to bring him closer into you. Mihawk reached his hands down to clasp Buggy’s wrist and pull it to surround your waist; his other joining it to circle you and hold you flush against him from behind.

Mihawk broke his lips away from yours, leaning up to kiss beneath your left ear.

“What now?” you asked him breathily, noting he took more of the leadership role in this liaison. Mihawk smiled against your neck, breaking himself away from you to look to his two bedroom partners.

“Now,” he began, reaching for your hand and leading you both towards your bed, “you are both going to shred yourself from your attire-,” he arched his chin to Buggy in indication that he, too, will be joining in receiving instruction from him, “-and then-,” he tilted your chin upwards to meet his lusting gaze, “-I’m going to claim your beautiful lips with my cock.”

You felt a wave of arousal began to weave through your chest, peaking your nipples and falling down to your lower stomach. A small moment of doubt began to form, your lips almost wrapping themselves around the words you were thinking before Buggy spoke.

“And I’m going to be there for every-,” he kissed your neck, “-single-,” he licked a small stripe with his tongue at the back of your neck beneath your hair, “-second of it.”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you turned your face to meet your lips with Buggy’s as Mihawk relinquished his hold on your chin and begin to rid himself of his boots, leather pants, greatcoat and undergarments; choosing to keep his hat firmly pressed atop his hat.

“Are you certain, my love?” you asked Buggy one final time, while shimmying yourself from your clothes, the items pooling by your feet to make yourself bare in front of your lovers. Buggy’s smile softened, him also removing his vest, pants, boots and hat; choosing to leave his bandana and cravat firmly attached to his neck and hair.

“Of course I am, pumpkin. You are my favourite, my star, and you have my whole heart,” he confirmed with you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before quickly pulling away with his eyes holding a seriousness within the playful teal colour; “now be a good girl and let the spooky bastard fuck your face.”

Your eyes widened at his comment, the tingle returning to your naked body as Buggy reached you towards him; his knees knocking with the back of the mattress, causing him to fall back and pull you alongside him. You felt the warm heat radiating from his flesh against your own, the tufts of navy and bright blue hair of his chest feeling coarse against your breasts.

Placing your knees beside his thigh, you turned to face Dracule Mihawk; his cock twitching in anticipation as you knelt in front of him and smiled up at him. He pumped his shaft within his firm grip and ushered for you to come closer to him.

“You,” he directed Buggy, who seemed shocked by his command but frowned as he actively listened, “get behind her and embrace her. She’s your lover, not some random whore.”

Buggy felt heat pooling within his chest as his heart began to rapidly pound against it at Mihawk’s command. He scuttled to his knees and messily crawled to sit himself behind you as he laced his fingers over your hips and hold his forearms, pressing his forehead against your right shoulder blade. He removed his painted head and pressed a kiss against your neck as you began paying undivided attention to the warlord above you with your lips.

You swirled your tongue over the throbbing tip of Mihawk’s cock as he hissed out a quivered sigh of relief as you began to take him further and further into the chasms of your throat; swallowing his shaft as he began to rock his hips into you.

The feathered broad-hat shrouded his eyes as he threw his head back in pleasure, messily thrusting his hips against your parted lips; your tongue lying flat to shield his sensitive knob from your bottom teeth as he filled your throat with his lengthy shaft.

He hands raked through your hair, fisting it in balls at the back of your head as he plunged his cock deep within your throat. Your tonsils ached and your lungs screamed out for a semblance of air as his pace quickened to chase his end. Your eyes pricked at the corners with tears, your lips smiling around his cock briefly as he continued to fuck your face. You closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of your face being completely used in such a relentless way; drowning under his unforgiving pace.

Your knees strained against the dipping mattress beneath them, arching your back up into the torso situated firmly behind you, a gloved right hand finding its way to clasp your throat within his firm grasp. His left arm hooked over your chest to hold you closer against himself as Buggy moved his body to the rhythm Mihawk had chosen to maintain. You felt the tip of Buggy’s knob twitch as it lie painfully neglected, resting between the cheeks of your ass.

Mihawk’s rhythm and grip had become firmer, thrusting harshly into the back of your throat; his trail of dark curls scraping against your nose as he panted through his lips. You opened your eyes to look up at him, watching as his face contorted in pleasure as he warned you of his release.

“I-I’m going to-,” he began, looking down at you as you took him completely within your throat; hollowing it out expertly. He began to retreat from you to empty his balls away from your face and into his palm; only for you to chase his retreat and suck harshly against him, the trails of saliva collected within your cheeks bewitching him as he felt possessed by your eagerness.

You steadied yourself against his hips as he groaned a low panted moan, filling your cheeks and throat with a mixture of saliva with his waves of salty and bitter cum pouring into them. Buggy’s grip lessened itself against your neck, feeling the bob of your throat as you swallowed all of the contents readily falling from the slit of Mihawk’s cock and into your lips. The clown-captain’s jaw protruded forward in empathetic pleasure, truly grasping how amazing it felt to empty his own balls into your mouth from your earlier and solitary entanglements. His eyes glazed over as he watched you pull away from the cock of the mighty warlord of the sea, a string of saliva maintaining the connection from your parted lips and tongue to his knob.

Without truly thinking his actions threw and completely overtaken by lust, Buggy turned your face towards him over your righthand shoulder with his hand grasping your neck; pulling you into his face as he claimed your bruised lips against his own. He moaned into your mouth as his cock again twitched again on your back at the sensation of exploring your mouth with his lips and tongue; tasting the remnants of Mihawk’s release within it.

Gasping at the unbridled attention, you released Mihawk’s hip from your left hand and brought it to Buggy’s right cheek; your right hand remaining against the dark-haired swordsman’s left hip to hold him firmly in place. You trailed your fingers and thumb over his jaw, feeling the grease-paint atop his navy stubble, pushing him to lie firmly back against the cool floor below you while turning to face him.

You collected the right hand of the warlord who was gasping for breath to steady his heart rate after relinquishing his cum into your mouth; while attempting to rid himself of the lusting feeling he felt regarding Buggy’s eagerness to taste his release within his lover’s mouth.

Crawling onto his reclined body, it was Buggy’s turn to feel slightly uneasy at your overzealous attention under the ever watchful amber eyes of your broody lover above you. He hesitated as you steadied your slick cunt over the tip of his cock, grasping at the base of it with your left hand while holding Mihawk’s right.

“W-wait-,” Buggy’s voice called out in apprehension, his eyes floating between Mihawk’s before falling back to rest on your own two orbs. You halted sheathing yourself on Buggy’s cock from your position on his lap, looking into his franticly wide teal eyes as your legs began to tremble from the weight of your body; after your position kneeling for an extended length of time earlier.

“Are you okay, my love?” you asked him, apprehension falling to your own face at his panic.

“I am-,” he affirmed hastily before turning his eyes towards Mihawk’s and speaking directly to him, “-I am if you are,” his eyes darkened, ensuring the warlord’s comfort in sharing your body so openly with him.

In response, Mihawk gracefully drew his body to rest between Buggy’s knees behind you. He knelt while clasping your thighs within his firm grip, a sigh of relief falling from your lips as he now held the brunt of your weight. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder, maintaining eye contact with the genius jester before sinking your aching cunt downwards onto Buggy’s painfully hard cock in a single thrust. The three of you released a moan of complete harmony as you met the navy-haired pelvis of your spouse, succumbing to the thralls of pleasure you were all experiencing.

Although Mihawk had only just depleted his arousal through his ribbons of cum shooting back into your mouth, he couldn’t help but become aroused through empathetically experiencing the way your cunt squeezed and trembled around Buggy’s incredibly hard shaft.

The swordsman was wielding you. He was wielding you against falling your slick opening to claim your spouse’s cock between your legs and thrusting you by your hips and thighs to set the pace of the encounter falling between the two of you.

You were his sword, his weapon against his formidable adversary. Instead of hunting to claim the life of his enemy; he wielded your body as he chased instead the mutual pleasure of his two partners as they met their pelvises together in the same bruising pace he set earlier as he rutted his cock against your lips.

Buggy cried out as he continued to hold his teal gaze against the half-lidded honey-coloured eyes of the warlord as he gyrated himself upwards to match the relentless pace Mihawk had set between the two of you.

Mihawk nudged your jaw with his chin, pulling his gaze from Buggy’s eyes to meet with you; his lover. Your lips were swollen from choking on his cock, your neck bruised slightly under Buggy’s firm grip as your body was littered with blue and silver glitter from the clown-captain’s face and body paint. His yellow eyes raked over your body as you whimpered against the approaching pleasure pooling within your lower abdomen.

Buggy’s eyes held firmly to the attention Mihawk was giving you; himself falling under the dominating aura of the talented swordsmen as he watched him pull you into a passionate kiss. Buggy’s eyes first widened in shock at how truly loving the kiss felt between the two of you, before a small whimper fell from his lips at the arrival of his apprehension once more.

Feeling the tension from the man below you, you immediately broke away from the affectionate lips of Mihawk and drew you right hand to collect your captain from below you and rise his torso upwards by the scruff of his neck to meet with your own. You brought your face down to claim the red-stained lips of your captain while drawing him up into yourself, Mihawk’s lips drawing themselves instead to your shoulder and neck as he trailed a series of open mouthed kisses against your skin.

Mihawk placed his torso firmly against you, fully pulling you to hold your body flush against himself as he removed his left hand from your thigh and rake itself to meet with your swollen clit. You shrieked into Buggy’s mouth as Mihawk now wielded every aspect of pleasure falling to your body. He expertly pressed his skilled digits against your bud; swirling the organ between his fingers under the pool of slick arousal falling from your walls onto Buggy’s pelvis.

Buggy, never being one to shy away from the spotlight, claimed the back of your head within his gloved fingertips as he anchored your neck backwards to arch it into the warlord behind you. He trailed his reckless and frantic kisses against your skin; his brows furrowing upwards as his release approached you.

“I-I need,” you gasped out, your own orgasm approaching but holding back to match with Buggy’s.

“What do you need, princess?” Mihawk asked you, his eyes glazing over as he continued to thrust you downwards to meet with Buggy’s pace.

“Please-,” you called with both desperation and commanding presence, “-someone kiss me.”

Immediately the two men fell their faces upwards towards you; Buggy first claiming your lips with his own before nudging your cheek with his red nose to fall your lips atop of Mihawk’s as he furrowed his brows in pleasure. Buggy again extended his bottom jaw as his eyes fell open widely at the exchange.

The warlord broke away from your lips and shoved your face back towards your captain with his forehead, his eyes gawking at the connection you had between you. You creased your brows as you held the back of the head of your captain and tilted your head to claim him further into yourself.

Mihawk immediately pressed his lips against the corner of your mouth, you maintaining the contact with the clown beneath you as your release was reaching its peak. Buggy retreated partially from your lips, choosing to fall his own to your righthand side as he ushered for Mihawk to draw his lips against your own to both experience you release crying against their lips.

Immediately, your orgasm ruptured in unison with the clown below you; his ribbons of cum splashing against the walls of your cervix and encumbering you with his release painting you. The intensity of the rupture was nothing you had experienced before: vision falling in white as your toes curled and lips screamed against your two lovers.

Being completely caged both above and beneath your two partners was overwhelming you in the best way. Your senses were eclipsed by their hold, your senses stunned by your bodies all becoming one with each other. Mihawk aided you both to ride through your high as he thrust you down against the pelvis of the clown to steady your body against him.

Buggy’s arms wrapped around your waist, while Mihawk circled his arms to cage you both in tighter; his grip falling against the back of Buggy’s shoulders and drawing the two of you closer together while your arms fell behind your captain.

You all breathed out a sigh of relief at the feeling; Mihawk the first to recover from the encounter considering his earlier release, withdrew himself away from your bodies as you remained embraced together.

Mihawk retrieved an assortment of items within his grip; towels, a bucket of warm water and a bottle of what appeared to be some form of champagne with three flutes. Buggy’s arms withdrew from your waist, your arms falling from its grip around his shoulders as you both brought your attention to the warlord approaching you.

Buggy apprehensively withdrew his deflated cock from your opening, his cum pooling atop his pelvis from your vagina; prompting Mihawk to click his tongue to chastise you both.

“And here I thought we were going to remain civilised about this,” he reprimanded in a snarky tone, “yet you’ve gone ahead and made a further mess of things.”

A warm blush rose against your cheeks as you watched Buggy’s cheeks redden in fury at the comment from your lover. Immediately, you drew your lips against your captain’s to stifle any words of aggression; immediately soothing him as you uttered: “I don’t mind a little mess, captain.”

Buggy immediately softened his eyes as they met with yours, his hand caressing your cheek lovingly before trailing his fingertips down towards your chin.

“Lie back, dear,” Mihawk commanded you, prompting you to hook your legs over Buggy’s waist and place yourself back against the plush mattress of the room. You sighed in relief as Mihawk began cleansing your body with the water and towel, relishing in the attention he paid to your aching flesh from the earlier attack.

You fluttered your eyes shut as you felt more hands, limbs and lips trail their way over your body; whispering praising utterances to you for your attuned balance to navigate untested waters successfully.

You heard the cork relinquish from the glass neck of the bottle, your eyes snapping open to reveal the strong forearms of your sword-master brandishing the bottle to skilfully rid its seal from the cork before crouching atop the mattress and joining you both in your recline against the pillows. You reached your arms forward to claim the crystal flutes from his fingertips and holding them out as he filled the liquid to the brim of each glass.

Buggy sat upwards with the bed dipping a little at his rise before falling back against the pillows once more. Mihawk held his glass upwards in indication for you to press your own against it in celebration; Buggy joining you in the notion before you all rose the tart and finely beaded liquid to your lips.

“So,” you began, looking between the two men with a small apprehensive smile; prompting them to both look to your position between them in the middle, “what now?”

“Now,” Buggy spoke this time, reclining with one arm lying behind his neck to support his comfort, “all we’re gonna do is drink-,” he brought the flute up to his lips and downed the liquid in a quick gulp, much to the disdain of Mihawk, “-and then I’d like to take a nap. That really took it out of me.”

Mihawk’s eyes widened partially due to the knowledge that he and you did the majority of the work for this particular encounter, and also at the fact that he felt comfortable enough to fall himself under the vulnerability of succumbing to unconsciousness in front of him. You turned to Mihawk and silenced his rage with a quick peck of his lips and a knowing look from your eyes, immediately soothing him with your playful grin.

“And where do you propose to take said nap, captain?” you asked him with a coy tone, cooing your question down at him.

“Why, right here of course,” he confirmed, reflecting the same tone back up at you. You laughed at him, throwing your head back to meet with the shoulder of Mihawk, who caught your body within his firm grasp. You had half a mind to kick them both out of your chambers so you could properly clean yourself and rest, but you also really enjoyed the time you were currently spending with the two of them.

Following suit, you finished your wine and collected both your and Buggy’s flute stems and reached your body over Buggy’s to place them on your bedside table. Buggy, ever the opportunist, couldn’t help but press a long and drawn out kiss atop your breast as you retreated from him and settle back between the two men.

“Would you also desire to rest, my lord?” you looked up at the dark-haired warlord at the side of you, a warm smile rising to your lips as he drank the remainder of his sparkling wine.

“So long as I remain welcome, yes,” he raised his hand to rake over your hair, apologetically while floating his eyes around your face circularly.

“You’re always welcome,” you whispered, floating your eyes shut and leaning towards his affectionate caress, “both of you. For a dance or otherwise.”

Settling back beneath the sheets of your bed, you lie your head into Mihawk’s left arm as he circled your shoulder in a comforting embrace while Buggy rolled onto his side and laced his arm over your waist and pressed his nose and forehead against your own left arm. You rose your arm to cradle Buggy against yourself and pressed a loving kiss atop his bandana-clad head before leaning your face towards Mihawk and receiving a similar caress from the warlord against your forehead.

You felt complete, your two partners lying together within your bedsheets; holding them and being held after the first night you shared together as one complete unit. The three of you released a collective sigh of contentment, all feeling the afterglow of your encounter while feeling an uprising giddiness in anticipation on what more is to come. But that was a thought for tomorrow.

@feral-artistry picture source (she's amazing, check her out!) Mihawk & Buggy

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