#but they can hold their breath for a couple of weeks if they need to

[boowritess]

very mild 18+ simon riley x reader

lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.

atleast to you.

when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.

he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.

he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.

he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.

he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.

it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.

even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.

but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.

it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.

he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.

"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.

around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.

Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.

"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.

"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.

Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.

he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.

'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'

image attached

Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.

Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.

he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.

just you and your simon.

a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo

[dotchannie]

- 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎 :: c.bc x reader (MDNI)

synopsis: channie finds his lovers little toy whilst trying to entertain himself in a rare moment he’s left himself home alone.

a/n: repost ik ik whatever, im stilling moving blogs technically but one day it'll be something new <3 part two will probably drop in the next week or so ! fem reader in that part but this one is more solo chan than anything else !

wc: 1,256.

Warnings: housewife chan he is a domestic queen and he’s lonely:(, mentions of living repetitive days, solo male masturbation with toys oop, vibrator over clothes, mentions of a hand job(not described), he busts quick sorry chan<3, cumming in his pants, petnames(baby twice i think), whiny booooy ! next part will be filthier <3

Chan feels very uneasy in his own home at the moment- so used to being the one jetting around the world that he can't quite settle at it being your turn instead.

It's only a fleeting trip to visit relatives, but it’s enough to have him picking his phone up every couple of seconds- blinking notifications having hope settling in his chest that maybe, just maybe, you require his attention.

Alas, your love is needed elsewhere, your partner left to his own devices- bandmates caught up in their own commitments back home too, their leader struggling in what should be a relaxing time. A period of down low. Chan prefers to be busy, to have a task weighing heaving on his shoulders and engaging his mind.

Hence his current situation, rooms gutted one by one as he works his wonders with whatever cleaning supplies he can get his hands on- the kitchen his first target. Spices long forgotten in the depths of storage pulled to the light, discarding as necessary as he uses his new found hobby to hone in on his organisation skills.

He even dabbles in some cooking, various ingredients already creeping up to their best before thanks to only feeding one mouth- if nothing else he has a couple hearty meals prepped in your absence.

The next chore see’s him tackling the living room. All he really needs to is straighten up some blankets and pillows, hoover a little, maybe a candle or something to make it feel homey while you're still away- more of his time spent in the four walls making up the bedroom.

Days begin merging into one as far as Chan’s concerned, each one starting with cleaning and ending with, well, cleaning.

By the time the next day rolls round he's more than half way through scrubbing the entire house- the plans today were to face your shared bathroom, but when he bypasses through the bedroom and is greeted by the chaos he's currently living in, he feels guilty that you're usually the one keeping on top of it.

Clothes tossed all over the room, shoes kicked off and forgotten about in favour of launching himself straight into plush sheets instead- and he can already hear your nagging at how his dirty clothes are on the floor near the laundry basket, not in it- something he now realises is completely justified.

Room cleaning is never straight forward though, and now he’s sat himself infront of the lower drawers attached to the wardrobe, legs criss-crossed as he folds, cramming in even more clothes he's managed to pull out of every crevice in the room.

Reaching forward to scoot some of your belongings around, he makes contact with a metallic object.

It’s cold when he takes it between the pads of his fingertips, believing it to be something else he would need to find a rightful home for on his mad cleaning spree- spending a couple moments rolling it back and forth before spinning it far enough to see a small power symbol near the base of the foreign object, gasping at his own discovery.

He's holding his breath as he presses the power button once. Nothing. He holds it in for a couple seconds this time. Nothing again. He let's out a sigh- no idea if it’s relief or defeat.

But curiousity has already gotten the better of him, inquisitive hands rummaging in the same drawer once more to see if you have a charger for this thing. And low behold you do.

Chan wastes no time plugging it in, busying himself with more tidying- bed stripped and remade with fresh sheets, all the while repeadeatly looking back towards the bedside table.

He manages to forget about it long enough to go take a shower, skin grimey from the accumulation of sweat and dirt but he's back to square one when he lays down to rest for the night. Scrutinising your little friend as it lays by his side- staring at it like it's going to do something spectacular before his very eyes.

Eventually, bravery takes over- thoughts of you quick to flood his mind when it’s in his palm once more. Do you use it when he's away? Do you use it when he's home and busy in the janky makeshift studio in the spare room? He always has headphones on he'd probably never hear you anyway.

He doesn't even realised he's pressing the button, mind running through a million scenarios, a soft "oh" slipping his lips as it begins to frantically buzz between his thumb and index finger.

Chan’s pleasantly surprised by the power it packs and he can only imagine how good it feels for you when you put it to use- excitement building as he considers his next action, a shake of his head stopping the train before it gets on the tracks fully and returning it to it's charger before rolling over to be welcomed by a restless night.

He goes about the next day much like he did the previous, starting to feel like he was stuck in a groundhog kind of situation.

Welcomed by the duvet, he makes himself comfortable on your side of the bed- eyes locked on to his new found enemy that has his brain turning to mush in his head.

But when he picks it up this time he has much different intentions.

Instinct alone guiding him to place it directly on his tip, hips violently rising of the bed with a heavy "oh fuck" when the bullet springs to life.

He's completely underestimated the capabilities of such a compact toy- chest immediately feeling like it's caving in from stimulation.

The brief contact ensuring him that one, this is going to be the quickest release since his first and two, it's going to become addicting- not daring place it on his bare skin.

Slowly running it up and down his length, his eyelids pull shut against his will, never having felt anything like it, doubting he ever will- back arching so far off the bed he's almost resting on his crown.

Ragged puffs of air escape his nose, nostrils flared wide- chest heaving as he begs to keep up with his own self inflicted torture.

Chan's completely taken by surprise by his own orgasm- quick and powerful when it hits him, announcing to an empty room that he's going to come.

"oh god, oh fuck- im cumming, ahhhhh im gonna bust baby, just like that", pent up energy being realesed in the form of repeatedly slapping at the blankets as he does.

With his head feeling like it’s full of cotton wool he can't help but groan at the tacky feeling of his boxers clinging to him, mouth dry and uncomfortable from hanging open so long.

In his state of bliss, Chan barely makes out the sound of his phone ringing- scrambling to pick it up when he eyes focus enough to register your name, news you're finally on your way back to him.

"Chan! I'm in the taxi now I'll be home soon!", your voice comes through the speaker in a sing song tone but he's struggling to make sense of what you're saying.

"Chan? Can your hear me? Hellooo?".

He let's out something akin to a whine, completely beyond his control and using what little breath he can catch to huff out a dazed response,

"baby, you gotta hurry I need help"

You ask the driver to pick up the pace and rush you home, quick.

🏷️: @rose-tinted-kalopsia

𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 !

[wrappedinthemilkyway]

A Lover's Embrace

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: After ignoring your anxiety for too long, it all comes out. Luckily, Joel is there to hold you through it.

Warnings/Tags: Soft!Joel, can imagine game!Joel or tvshow!Joel, can be pre-outbreak or post-outbreak, reader has no desciption, petnames, crying, anxiety and difficult emotions, comfort

Word Count: 1.4k

a/n: I have had nothing but anxiety for the past couple of weeks and finally had some room to breathe so I decided to write a little comfort piece.

You’d spent the entire week trying to ignore the feeling that had been bubbling inside you. 

The first three days were spent in denial. The anxiety that had started to swirl in you lingered more like a nuisance than a real threat. You couldn’t understand why it was there, why now. 

So you pushed through it, carried on with your daily tasks as though it wasn’t there. 

But after those first few days of denial, it had become unbearable. It was impossible to escape the feeling that was overtaking your body, the sensation digging deeper and deeper into your chest until you were sure you would collapse in on yourself. 

It had become suffocating, and that suffocation only magnified what you were feeling. A week into feeling this way, with no end or remedy in sight, the anxiety within started to bubble and leak out. 

There was a sadness mingling with it now. A feeling of despair, of frustration, with yourself as much as it had also been about the unwanted feeling. 

Through it all, the main priority had been caging it in and locking it up, determined to not let it interfere with your life or with Joel’s. 

Joel had been busy, too. The more he was needed by others, the longer he spent away from home. When he’d return to your shared home late into the evening, you already in bed, you didn’t have the heart to lean on him. He was carrying so much. He always carried too much. And you didn’t want him to have to carry you despite his exhaustion. 

This night wasn’t very different from those other nights. 

Joel was still not home. The darkness of the night had already started to take over the sky, and the house you occupied had become silent once again. And that feeling, that anxiety, only grew in that silence. 

A shaky sigh escaped your lips as you aimlessly walked through the space, eyes scanning for ways to distract yourself from the feeling taking over. Hand pressed to your chest, an attempt at grounding yourself, as you tried to steady your breathing. 

You moved into the kitchen, deciding that tea would help, that the warmth would somehow end the anxiety. The heat, however - like every other night so far -, did nothing. It instead felt like the warmth was scorching you, the heat of your anxiety mingling with the tea, fueled by it. 

You tried everything. You did those breathing exercises, you opened a window; you’d even tried touching something soft, a blanket Joel had gifted you, in hopes that it would somehow replicate his presence and ground you. But nothing worked. 

Tears of frustration gathered at your eyes, and you began to make your way into your bedroom, hoping that sleep would come faster than all the previous nights. Hoping that the feeling would end. 

You watched as the clock kept moving. 8pm. 9pm. 10pm. And then, finally, 11pm. 

The lack of sleep and the constant state of tension your body had been in the past few days was not enough for you to fall asleep. Your body ached, heavy and exhausted from the stress it had been put under. A dull throb lingered in your head, eyes burning as you closed them. The tears had started falling, no longer contained. 

You eventually heard the front door open, the sound loud in the silence despite the way Joel was trying to be careful with it. You wiped your tears away, closing your eyes and turning your back to the door, hoping that he would think you were asleep just as he had done all the other nights. 

His steps resounded as he made his way to your shared bedroom. The door creaked open slowly, and you could feel rather than hear Joel make his way toward the bed. The sound of Joel undressing and getting ready to join you was the only sound in the room. 

You felt the bed dip behind you as he lowered himself onto it, a small grunt escaping his lips. He shuffled, moving himself into a comfortable position on his back, and the sigh of exhaustion and relief that came out of him at the feeling of finally resting brought a new batch of tears to your eyes. You didn’t want to be a burden to him. You’re just a burden. 

You felt Joel slowly move toward you, his arm snaking around your torso and pulling you against his chest just as he always did. You tried to stifle the sound of your sobs, but the shaking of your body and small sniffle that escaped you was immediately felt and heard by him.

His hand pulled you into him tighter, his head lifting from the pillow to look at your face, studying whether you were awake or not. 

Joel immediately sat up, his torso reaching across you to turn on the lamp beside your head. The sudden light made you squint, eyes clenching even tighter, but Joel cradled your face gently in his palms, turning you towards him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He whispered, the concern obvious in his voice as much as the exhaustion was. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?” 

His eyes scanned your body, hand lifting the sheets so he could see if you were in any visible pain. 

You shook your head, hand moving on top of the one cradling your face to keep it there. The tears kept falling, everything that had been locked away for so long finally spilling out of you. 

“‘m not hurt, I just-” you whispered back. “I don’t feel good.” 

He pulled you into him, body cradled in his arms as he held you against his chest, face gazing down at you as you lay there wrapped in him. 

“Your head hurt?” He asked, still unsure of what was wrong. 

You shook your head at him, the tears still falling as you try to lean even further into him. 

“No, I’m not in pain, Joel.” You sniffled.

“Baby, you’re making me worried- what’s going on?” He asked, hand rubbing a soothing pattern on your back. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Something’s not right but I don’t know what. I just… I feel so scared. I’m so anxious.” You whisper. 

He moves to press a kiss to the top of your head before pulling the sheets over his body and yours, intertwining you together, pulling you into him. 

You lie there in silence for a while, your confession heavy in the air. The sound of his breathing and his heartbeat at your ear begins to slowly lull you from your panic. The warmth of his body was soaking into yours, the strength of his embrace making you feel safer than you had done in a very long time. 

“How can I make it better?” He whispers, finally. “I don’t… I don’t want you to feel that way but I don’t know what to do for you.”

You move your head, finally facing him, and lean to press a soft kiss onto his lips. “Just hold me.” You whisper to him. 

He nods his head, pressing an equally soft kiss onto your lips as he keeps his arms wrapped around you. The silence continues, his arms and presence grounding you. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper to him, feeling new tears start to gather at your waterline. 

“What are you sorry for?” He whispers, the confusion audible in his voice. 

“‘m sorry you’re having to stay up with me right now. You should be sleeping, you’ve had a long day.” You sniffle.

“You don’t have to feel sorry about that, darlin’.” He whispers. “I want to stay up with you.”

He presses a kiss to your lips. 

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do to make you feel better.” He reassures you, another kiss pressed to your lips. “I love you.”

The warmth of his words and his actions brought a comfort you hadn’t had that entire week. And while the fear and anxiety hadn’t completely disappeared, you could feel them slowly ebbing away.

[bangaveragewhitewine]

baby, do you want to come home with me?

Eddie Munson x Reader

Giving in to the tension feels good

Word count: 702

Contents: Making out. Pre-smut and getting handsy in a bathroom. Female reader (one use of 'her'). Title from Wet Dream, by Wet Leg.

Author’s note: This has been sitting half-finished in my docs named 'untilted eddie make out' for well over a month. It's barely read-over or edited, but here you go, Eddie girls. Come get your man!

His breath is hot against your lips, tinged with smoke and hops. That smokey scent blends with spicy aftershave and the earthy fug of green. Every molecule of you feels aflame, sparked by the slide of his tongue against yours and the gentle command he leads with. He is addictive and you need another taste. 

After weeks of tension building, attraction growing stronger each time you saw each other instead of waning, you both gave in tonight. And oh are you glad you did. 

Eddie smiles when your mouths meet again; another deep kiss to make you melt between him and the scuffed brick wall at your back. He holds you tighter, closer, and presses up against you to make sure you don’t trickle away into a puddle or twirl off back to the dance floor with your ‘come get me’ eyes. He wants you a little longer and fancies his chances of getting to take you home tonight. 

He need not worry; the only place you're going is to find a cab, then home to your place or to his. The music is less loud here, but the base rumbles between your twisted-together bodies.

You can feel him, thick and hard and warm against you through double layers of denim - his and hers. There is buttery leather and surprisingly soft curls beneath your fingers, the sharp line of his flexed jaw and the cool hardware on his jacket. He makes you feel greedy for wanting all of it, all of him, the soft and the hard parts (but especially the hard part tonight). 

He makes this little noise when you tug his hair and his jaw falls slack when your nails catch on his scalp just right. You make a note of that for later as he licks into your mouth again, making you keen for him as he pairs that slow deep slide with the firm press of his thigh between your legs that feels so good. Your hips take up a slow roll, encouraged and steadied by his hand at the top of your ass and the perfect press of your jeans right there.

You’re not sure where he begins or where you end anymore, with blurred edges and winding limbs even when you break for breath briefly. A hammering fist on the door is just about enough to halt your kisses - but only after a couple of tries on the handle and an unsuccessful first knock. 

“Hello?!! Come on, man, I need to piss!” 

“Hold the fuck on.” 

Eddie’s voice is rough, a sharp pissed-off bark that echoes around the bar bathroom as you hide your warm face against his chest and give in to a dose of the giggles.

“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, soft just for you. 

His smile is stained with your lipstick, and you do your best to swipe the worst of it away with your thumb as you float back down to earth. He does a little to fix the smear below your lip, tender from kissing and the nip of Eddie’s sharp teeth. 

“I think they’re going to know…” you murmur, resisting the urge to take one more taste for yourself.

There will be no hiding it from whoever is banging on the door, whoever is queued up behind them with their full bladders and baggies of coke. It was not like either of you were subtle enough to fool your friends, even before you both disappeared together tonight. Not with your matching stained mouths, or Eddie’s tighter-now jeans. Not when you leave together tonight and arrive for breakfast together in the morning.

“Is that so bad?” 

You give in to that need for one more kiss, slow and sweet unlike the last one. It says enough to answer his question. 

Loud music and the sound of your own heart beating hard are not quite enough to drown out the complaints and wolf-whistles as you leave the locked bathroom together. Eddie leads again with confidence, bolstered by your lipstick on his face and your hand in his back pocket. Neither of you miss how the table of your friends raise their bottles and glasses as you pass them, a few bills exchanged for bets placed as you go find that cab and decide ‘your place or mine?’ 

Thank you for reading 🖤 Reblogs, likes & comments are loved and cherished

[russellsppttemplates]

Omg I love all your work! 🫶🏼

Can you do Fraser and Clara maybe they are dating and nobody know and Carlos catch them in her room and call Lando?

Im so sorry if my English is bad, is not my first language!

Note: thank you 🫶 don't worry about it, english isn't my first language either!

The Norris family had joined you for a family vacation, everyone travelling directly to Mallorca after the race.

"My sunburn from yesterday is still quite red, I'm going to my room and read there today", Clara reasoned as she saw everyone else get ready to hang out by the pool.

"That's smart, cariño, do you want me to reapply the cream?", you asked, wanting to make sure she was being diligent about it.

"I can do it myself - if I twist my arm like this, I can get there", your daughter exemplified before heading upstairs.

Everyone else seemed to enjoy the time by the pool, you choosing to swim instead of just sitting around until you felt something snap, "Oh! Crap!", you hissed, holding the top of your bikini to your chest as one of the straps ripped from the band around your back.

"Is everything alright?", Matilda asked you, brushing her wet hair away from her face.

"Yes, just my top strap ripped, I need to get a new one", you said as you stepped out of the pool, Carlos helping you with a towell, "Actually, amor, can you get it for me, please? I'll just get the floors wet and then someone will fall", you asked your husband.

Carlos nodded, kissing your cheek and heading up to your room. On his way there, he noticed Clara's bedroom door was open and he took a peek inside, seeing his daughter cuddled up to his friend's son. Clara's head laid on Fraser's chest, the teenagers taking a nap as Carlos recognised his daughter's book on the Norris boy's hand, his thumb marking the page.

Walking to the hallway's balcony, he waved Lando over, calling him to join him upstairs.

"Do you want me to help you look through your wife's swimwear? I'm not sure how comfortable I fe-oh! Oh", he gasped as he noticed his son cuddled up with Clara.

"Do you think they're together?", Carlos whispered.

"Wouldn't you be together to do something like that?", Lando mused as he watched his son's protective hold on who he assumed was his girlfriend.

"We have to tell the wives", Carlos said as they walked downstairs.

"Damn it", Lando muttered under his breath, "I have to tell my wife she was right about this", he tsked, receiving a raised brow from Carlos, "she has been saying that they're dating for a couple of weeks now".

"Happy wife, happy life", Carlos patted his back, "you have to tell her she was right".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[totallyb-tchin]

Guilty as Sin?

Kate Martin x reader

Summary: Based on Taylor Swift's new song Guilty as Sin?

Warning: nsfw

You saw her basketball sitting in her grasp as it usually was. The veins in her hands popped out as she threw the ball back to caitlin. Her long slender fingers easily captivate your attention. You can’t remember what you were doing before you saw her there in all her glory. Her labored breaths from a long day of practice igniting a fire in you. The gym that had once felt freezing suddenly had you reaching to unzip your jacket. Kate had been taking over your thoughts a lot in the last couple weeks. You can’t even go to sleep without dreaming of those icy blue eyes. She has haunted your every waking thought and to say you liked it was more than an understatement. Her basketball uniform was a gift given to the world and everyday you got to see her in it felt like a miracle. The way it highlighted her frame and her long legs had you buckling at the knees. Her signature braided ponytail swinging back and forth as she dribbled the basketball that she had been holding seconds earlier. You were mesmerized by her talent. She made everything she did seem so easy, sometimes she had you thinking that you could play basketball; not that you would ever try.

You looked up to see her ocean blue eyes looking back into yours with a smirk on her face as she made a basket. You gave a shy smile back in return, placing a piece of your hair behind your ear. A fair share of stolen glances and smiles have been shared between you two. The way she managed to plague your every thought is something that should be studied. It is a serious addiction that you can't find the strength to quit. Alone at night you swear that you could feel her fingertips grasp your thighs like the ghost of what could be. The ghost of what you wanted so badly. You would think of how her lips attacked yours with a feverish need. Her fingers bunching up in your hair pulling lightly as a moan tumbles out of your lips. The way her fingers would drag down your body leaving goosebumps in her wake claiming every inch of you as her own. Her lips kissing down your neck teasingly eliciting noises you didn't even know you could make. Her labored breath as her hands rub over your clothed breasts a whine leaving your mouth at the contact. She smirks that cocky smirk you love so much. You are nothing but putty in her hands.

Her hands. Oh God, her hands. The way she pushes you against the wall one hand holding your waist and the other pressed up against the wall holding her weight up as she leans over you. She lifts your shirt over your head and throws it behind her. Her hands cupping your breast through your black bra. Her once bright blue eyes now appear dark as she looks down at you. Her knee pressing between your legs. Her lips attaching to your neck leaving bruises on every inch she can find. She taps the back of your knees signaling you to jump up as she now carries you to your bed. Her necklace hangs down over you as she sets you down, your lips now disconnecting. Her lips start to move further south as they continue their journey, bruises littering her path leading to the top of your Levi jeans. She looks up at you with that shit eating grin still plastered on her face. You lift your bottom half off the bed as she pulls your pants down off your legs. She tosses them somewhere on the other side of the room but you can't find it in yourself to care. Your hand grip the sheets beside you as her head disappears between your thighs as her hot breath fans over your black lace underwear. The sight alone elicits a pornographic moan from you. Her nails dig into you as her lips leave bruises all across your thighs. Mine she says as she looks at the art she has created a mischievous glint in her eye. You buck your hips up into her in need, hoping, wishing, and praying to anyone that will listen to you that she will give you any amount of friction. You would take any small amount of pleasure she is willing to give. She chuckles at your action as she puts on finger on yo-

“Hey are you okay?” Your friend Natalie shakes you, knocking you out of your daydream.

You look around needing a minute to ground yourself the overwhelming feeling of your need wanting all your attention. You subtly press your thighs together as you feel the growing wetness caused by an unknowing blonde. You look over at your friend, confusion and worry threaded through her expressions. You nod your head looking back over to where Kate had been to see her on the sidelines rifling through what you assume is her bag. She stands up to look at you, sending you a smile before continuing on with her practice not knowing the damage she has caused.

“I didn’t know that you knew kate” your friends said following your gaze.

You shook your head quickly stealing one last glance at Kate before turning towards the exit for the gym “I don’t.”

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 8)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N joins Harry for his last few shows in California and they take their relationship to the next level.

Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

Word count: 3.8K

CW: smut, knotting, p in v sex, heat cycle

————————————————————————

Waking up on New Year’s Day, wrapped in your alpha’s arms, is truly the best way to start the year. Your scents mix beautifully together, and his bedroom feels like a sanctuary. The two of you spend the entire day at his house. It’s comfortable, domestic even the way you fit seamlessly into his home. You cook dinner together and once again end the night making love.

Even though you wake up the following morning the same way as the previous, there’s sadness in the air. It’s the day you leave to fly back home. Since Harry has a few meetings and other plans, he won’t be joining you in the states for a couple of weeks. It’s a shorter separation than the last one, but you still don’t want to say goodbye.

The alarm on your phone rings, and you roll over to face Harry. He presses a kiss to your temple, then nose, before finally reaching your lips. Just as the two of you are getting into a rhythm, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, your second alarm goes off. You know that if you don’t get up and get ready now you’re going to miss your flight. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in your opinion. But there’s an in-person “start of the year” meeting that you need to be at in a couple of days. So you pull yourself away with the last bit of personal restraint you possess.

Harry helps pack the last of your things while you shower, and he has breakfast waiting for you. Both plates are set in front of the chair that Harry’s sitting on, and you’re confused for a moment before you see the pleading look on his face. Understanding his silent request, you move to sit on his lap. You feel him relax beneath you as you grant him this last moment of intimacy.

After breakfast is finished you turn in Harry’s lap, straddling him now, so you can start to say goodbye. Even though he’s driving you to the airport, you both know you can’t share a proper moment there in case he’s spotted by fans.

The first thing he does is douse you in his scent. You melt the second his nose runs against your neck. He’s thorough, kissing and licking against the gland there, ensuring that you’ll smell of your alpha for your journey home. With one final, gentle, nip of his teeth on your skin, he pulls away satisfied.

“I don’t want to go,” you say with a pout.

“I know baby. I don’t want you to leave either,” he replies.

“Just two weeks, right?”

“Just two weeks. And then I’ll come get you and we’ll be in California together,” he confirms.

“Okay. I can do two weeks.” You take a deep breath before slotting your lips to his. It’s a short kiss, but it’s full of love.

You glance at the clock and sigh.

“Time to go,” Harry says sadly. The two of you get up and head to the car. Harry insists on carrying your bags, and then keeps his hand on your thigh for the entire drive. It’s these little ways that he shows he cares about you that you’ve never experienced before. He’s always making you fall for him even more.

When you arrive, he quickly shimmies his sweatshirt off and hands it to you. It’s doused in his scent, and it’s one of the coziest things you’ve ever worn.

“Thank you, alpha,” you say.

“Of course, omega. Call me when you get home, okay?”

“I will.” This comes out barely a whisper, as you fight to hold back tears. Harry releases calming pheromones and you take a deep breath to recenter yourself.

After a final goodbye you enter the airport, going through check-in and security. It’s an uneventful day of travel, and this time you manage to take a nap on the plane. One short uber ride later and you’re finally home.

You send Harry a quick text to let him know you’re home safe and that you’ll call him after a shower. You need to wash away the grime of traveling, but unfortunately this also washes away Harry’s scent.

There are still a couple bags of scented items that he’d given you, so you decide to spruce up your nest again. After your shower you call Harry and talk on the phone while you build it. The nest brings you the peace your omega requires to fall asleep without your alpha for the first time in weeks.

The time before Harry arrives passes slowly, as you knew it would. The touch deprivation doesn’t get too out of hand like it previously did. You have a telehealth call with your doctor during this time, just to check in with her. She explains that the symptoms being better likely means your omega knows it has an alpha who will always return to take care of it. It’s weirdly satisfying to know that there’s medical proof of how healthy your relationship with Harry is.

And then, finally, Harry is here. He stays with you for a few days, attending meetings in New York or taking phone calls about upcoming projects while you do your work. Each night is spent together watching movies, playing games, or just talking. Your friends come over and it’s perfect how seamlessly Harry fits in with the group.

The two of you fly together to California where Harry will be doing a number of shows in Los Angeles and Palm Springs. You stay at his LA home and cannot believe how beautiful it is. You go with him to rehearsals, where you enjoy watching the behind-the-scenes process as well as hanging out with the band and crew. You attend the shows, always in a VIP section, away from any danger, in order to calm Harry’s alpha.

You wake up early the morning of Harry’s birthday and sneak down to the kitchen of the beautiful Airbnb he’d rented in Palm Springs. Your goal is to make him a surprise breakfast in bed. He’s just starting to stir when you walk back in carrying a tray of food.

“Happy birthday,” you say as you place the tray on the dresser before leaning in to give Harry a kiss.

“Thank you my love,” he replies.

“Brought you breakfast, all your favorites.”

“It smells delicious!”

With that the two of you sit side-by-side in bed, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and occasionally feeding bites to each other. When you’re both full you move the tray to the side again and grab a couple presents you’d hidden in the closet.

“What’s all this? You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry says.

“It’s nothing special, just a few things that made me think of you.”

He unwraps the gifts, a huge smile on his face as each is revealed. As you said, none of it is expensive or fancy really, but Harry can tell the thought you put into each gift.

“Thank you baby, it’s all perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply. “There’s actually one more thing,” you add shyly, shifting as you kneel in bed next to him.

He picks up on your nervous pheromones and takes one of your hands in his to soothe you, unsure of where this is going.

“So I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the last couple of weeks and uhm, I’m ready. To be knotted.”

Harry stares at you for a long moment, and part of you fears that he’ll reject you, but that fear quickly vanishes when he says, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve never felt so safe and cared for by someone. I’ve never wanted to literally be tied to another person. Not until I met you, alpha.”

He takes a deep, steadying breath, the air filling with pheromones indicating just how much he wants that.

“My omega, I will always make sure you’re safe, no matter what’s happening. If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop, promise?”

“I promise,” you reply as you lean in to press a deep kiss to his lips.

The kiss starts slow, hesitant, and you can tell Harry is afraid to push too far. So you take control, running your tongue along the seam of his lips until he opens his mouth. When your tongues meet, a shift occurs, and Harry once again becomes the dominant alpha you’re used to in bed.

His hands come up, one around your waist and the other cupping the back of your neck to keep you close to him. After a few minutes of deep, passionate kisses he breaks away to kiss and nip along your throat. When he gets to the scent gland just under your ear he begins to scent you thoroughly, licking and leaving small bites. You’re boneless in his arms and you know your underwear is ruined with the slick pooling there.

It's a rush to get out of your clothes, until every article from both of your bodies is scattered on the floor. Your omega instincts kick in and you follow them, moving until you’re on your belly and then lifting your backside into the perfect presenting position.

“Not like that, baby,” Harry says as he gently manhandles you so you’re on your back looking up at him. “I want to see you this time. Plus, it will be more comfortable when we’re tied together.”

The reminder that you'll be literally stuck together has a wave of nerves and a wave of desire running through you simultaneously. It’s a scary thought, being stuck to someone in such an intimate way, but you know it will feel good and only bring you and Harry closer emotionally.

He presses kisses down your body until he reaches your core, literally growling at how wet you are, at how sweet your slick smells. After the first couple tentative licks he begins to eat you out in earnest. This is something you’ve come to expect in the weeks since your relationship with Harry became physical. He rarely goes straight to penetrative sex, preferring to bring you to at least one orgasm first. Even though today is his birthday, it’s no different than usual. Sometimes you think it’s more for him than for you if his enthusiasm is anything to go by.

It doesn’t take long before he brings you to climax, your breathy moans and cries of his name mixing with obscene sounds of Harry eating you out. Once you’ve fully ridden every wave of pleasure he begins to move back up your body. You lazily make out before Harry pulls away to reach into the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a condom and you watch with lust-hazed eyes as he rolls it along his length.

He's hovering over you again, silently checking one last time if you’re ready. You smile and nod, leaning up for a gentle, chaste kiss. It’s as he presses his lip to yours again that you feel his tip at your entrance. Your jaw goes slack as he slowly pushes fully inside of you until his hips are flush to yours. What happens next is a beautiful, passionate blur, as he brings you to climax once more. He scents you some more as you catch your breath, and then you cry out in pleasure as he begins thrusting again.

It's as you reach your third orgasm of the morning that you feel his hips starts to stutter. You wrap your legs around him, giving a silent signal that you still want this, still desire him to knot you.

When his knot finally locks in place you gasp, the feeling unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. There’s definitely a twinge of pain, your body not ever having something so large inside. But at the same time there’s a warmth, both from the cum filling the condom and from the knot itself. Harry’s cries of pleasure ring in your ears and he’s kissing you before moving to your scent gland once again, frantically scenting you, ensuring that everyone will know you’re claimed by an alpha.

Once his inner alpha is satisfied that his omega smells only of him he calms down.

“Are you alright my love?” he asks.

“I’m good,” you reply. “Feels so good.”

“I could say the same. Being locked in you feels like heaven. Jesus, you darling, are perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

You blush at the compliments, your omega preening at all the attention from your alpha. He continues to scent and kiss you for the twenty minutes you’re tied together. It only takes a couple minutes for you to get used to the feeling, and then there’s an emptiness when he finally pulls out.

“C’mon baby, let’s get cleaned up,” he says before carrying you into the bathroom, needing to give into his instincts to care for you in any way he can.

Harry continues to dote on you the rest of the morning and scents you again before you both leave to get lunch with his friends prior to soundcheck and the show. Sarah gives a knowing look when she sees the two of you, but you can’t even feel embarrassed that the other alpha picked up on how you spent the morning. Especially not when she gives you a hug and says, “I’m so happy for the two of you.”

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly and suddenly Madi Diaz is on stage opening the show. You’re in Harry’s dressing room as he finishes getting ready, and though you’re dressed in a light skirt and tank top, you still feel a bit warm. You make a joke about how hot they keep a venue that’s literally in the desert, and Harry just gives you a questioning look.

Before he can ask what you mean, he’s being called away to grab his mic pack and head to the stage. You give him one more kiss for luck before going to find your spot in the VIP section.

Harry enters the stage a little while later, holding onto his birthday balloon. Even though you’d just been with him as he got dressed, you’re practically salivating at how good he looks. Even though you try to prevent it, there’s definitely slick leaking into your panties, so much so that you take a quick bathroom break to clean up. You’re also sweating, leading you to wonder how everyone else around you looks completely cool when it’s practically a thousand degrees.

When the show ends you all meet backstage for a drink to celebrate Harry’s birthday and the end of the US leg of tour. You’re tucked into Harry’s side, fighting off the desire to pull him away from the crowd so he can knot you again. You shake your head slightly, shocked at how getting knotted one time has made you insatiable.

You look up and notice Sarah watching you closely before she leans over and whispers something to Mitch. He then looks at you as well, as though studying you and you begin to feel somewhat self-conscious causing you to tuck further into Harry’s embrace.

After everyone is done wishing Harry a happy birthday Sarah makes her way over, effectively pulling you both off to the side.

“Y/N, are you feeling alright?” she asks.

“Yea, I’m fine, why?” you reply, lying slightly. Because the truth is you feel a bit off, but you have no clue what is going on. You begin to feel cornered by the alpha, and even though you’re normally good friends with her, you don’t want her around you right now. The only alpha you want is yours. And you want him alone.

“Are you sure? Because you seem like you could be slipping into heat. I know it’s none of my business but I’m just worried.”

Just like that all the air escapes from your lungs. The room starts spinning and anxiety builds in your chest. Because you realize she’s right. Your doctor said your mini-heat would hit in February, and here it is, February first. Being knotted that morning probably helped trigger it as well.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

Harry is still by your side, similarly shocked that he didn’t pick up on the signs either.

The heat haze starts to settle over you, as though you noticing what it is has the process speeding up. “Harry, I need to go,” you say, fear lacing your voice. You know that being an omega in heat is extremely vulnerable and here you are in a venue surrounded by people.

“I know,” he says, his voice strained. You’re not sure if he’s more affected by desire or a need to protect his omega, but you can tell he’s under immense stress at the moment. He calls his assistant Jada over to make arrangements to get you home safely.

You’re vaguely aware of conversation happening around you, but the fuzziness in your brain makes it hard to understand what they’re saying. You turn your head, blindly seeking out Harry’s delicious scent. It's an unconscious decision to start scenting him right there in front of his friends, and you don’t realize you’re nipping at his scent gland until he’s gently pulling you away.

You start to whine, trying to move closer again, fighting against him until he says “Omega, listen to me.” Immediately your eyes meet his, and you’re snapped out of the daze. Part of you knows that he just used his alpha voice and while normally you’d hate that, your omega preens. This isn’t just any alpha, this is your alpha, and you know he’s using his voice to help you, to protect you.

Once your eyes are locked into his and he knows he has your attention, Harry says, “Jada and Elin are going to take you back to the house. There will be a couple beta security guards there as well. They’ll all take care of you and make sure you’re safe.”

You nod, showing that you understand. But then tears well in your eyes and Harry gently asks, “Omega, what’s wrong?”

You don’t answer, you don’t want to say it, because it feels silly and childish. But you can’t keep anything from him, not when he looks so worried and you whisper, “I’m scared, Alpha.”

“Oh my darling,” he says as he pulls you in for a hug once again. “I know it’s scary. It’s been a long time since you’ve experienced this huh?”

“Yea. I just, I don’t really remember the couple of heats I had, I just remember feeling untethered. I didn’t like it. I felt so alone.”

“Baby, I promise you won’t be alone. The others will be there to check on you, and our room smells of our scents which will soothe you. And I’ll be there the second it’s done. It’ll only be a day, maybe two tops. Over before you know it, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer, and he leans down to place one quick kiss to your lips. He doesn’t dare do more, not wanting to set off a wave of your heat while you’re still in a public space. Plus, he’s holding on to the last bit of control he has, finding it harder to contain his alpha as your scent continues to grow sweeter.

With one final hug you say goodbye and are led to the car that’s waiting. You’re in the backseat with the window down, the cold air keeping you from feeling like you’re burning from the inside out. Back at the house Elin leads you to the master bedroom, where you’ll end up spending the next 27 hours.

The mini heat isn’t awful. It’s painful at moments, your desperation for a knot overwhelming you. Shortly after arriving at the house Jada brings a box of supplies. In your aroused state you don’t question where they got a new knotting dildo at midnight, but you’re grateful for whoever found it as it helps get you through.

Elin and Jada check in on you at regular intervals, making sure you’ve eaten and seeing if there’s anything you need. You assure them that you’re fine every time, but the truth is you still feel alone. It’s a loneliness that’s deep in your bones, your heat making you desperate for the touch of another person, and not even in a sexual way. You just want to be held.

When Elin knocks on the door at 3 am, 27 hours after getting to the house, she finds you wrapped in a mountain of blankets. That alone alerts her to the fact that the heat is over. She texts Harry immediately, and 15 minutes later he’s running into the room.

The second he walks in, you break, tears streaming as sobs wrack your body. He wraps you in his arms and begins to scent you, not needing to ask what is wrong. He understands. You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. Your inner omega has been on edge without its alpha there. You are simply overwhelmed by the experience.

Harry sits with you, holding you tight and murmuring sweet things until your sobs taper off into quiet sniffles.

“You okay?” He eventually asks.

“I’m okay,” you reply truthfully. It had been cathartic to cry, to let it all out.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just hold me please,” you answer.

“Of course baby. Always.”

Harry keeps his promise, continuing to hold you close as you get some rest. In the morning, he gets breakfast delivered to the house so he only has to leave bed for a moment to grab it from the front porch. He then draws a bath and helps gently wash every inch of your skin.

Since you have the house rented for a couple more days you decide to build a fresh nest. You kick Harry out, needing to do this by yourself. You do, however, run out to the living room more than once so he can scent certain items. Once it’s complete you call for Harry and he joins you immediately.

“This is beautiful,” he says as soon as he sees the nest you’ve constructed.

“Really?” You ask, always a little unsure of yourself when you try to follow your omega instincts.

“Really. It’s perfect,” he reassures you.

“Lay with me?” You ask.

“I’d love nothing more,” he replies and follows you into the center of the bed nest. You curl yourself into his side and relax. It’s no surprise when you begin to purr, Harry rumbling in contentment next to you.

In that moment something becomes clear to you. This is your alpha. Your future is with him. You won’t bring it up just yet, but you know you want him to join you for your next heat, and whatever may come after.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! Next chapter should be the end of the main story but I’m sure I’ll do some extras after that!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca@stylesfever@alwayslovingharry @daphnesutton @harrydeary

[lunarubra]

Sooo... I wanted to wait to post it next week, but I feel it's going to be even crazier and busier at work in the coming days. As I mentioned in a previous post, the next few months are going to be really hectic for me, so updates could be even more delayed. But I am not abandoning my babies, don't worry. So here we are. I hope you enjoy it. If you can, leave a comment letting me know what you think. It's the first time I've written smut for a straight couple, so I am a little worried of how this is gonna feel. Thanks a ton to @cillmequick and @emotionalcadaver for beta-reading this chapter and being the best mutuals <3

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan Fabris)

Summary: The morning after, with a surprise visit, and maybe finally, those two idiots are going to talk about what they are feeling. It took them only 25k+ words, sooo. Yeah, I'm aware that as the writer, I should be in control of what they do, but spoiler alert: I am not. They are in control.

Warning: English not my First Language, Mention of Panic Attack, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Star Wars Spoilers.

Words: 5439

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Part 7 - Swell of Renewal

The first light of dawn gently illuminated Cillian's eyes, rousing him from sleep. Reluctant to open them fully, he savoured the comforting sensation of that fleeting moment between slumber and wakefulness. Gradually, he became aware of the sensations enveloping him. He was laying on his side, with a warm body pressed against his chest, nestled between him and the couch's backrest. His face was buried in soft hair that carried the scent of sea and spices. Before fully registering his surroundings, he snuggled closer, relishing the embrace.

A sudden noise from the front door jolted Cillian awake, causing him to open his eyes and discover Jiyan nestled against his chest. It took a moment for him to recall why he was on the couch and why Jiyan was there beside him. He admired her peaceful form for a few seconds, noting the deepness of her sleep, likely a result of the exhaustion from the previous night. Another knock echoed at the front door, diverting Cillian's attention from the woman beside him, while she remained completely oblivious to the noises, undisturbed and lost in her tranquil slumber.

With gentle care, Cillian untangled himself from their embrace, draping a blanket over Jiyan as he had done the night before, before falling asleep. Since her panic attack and her subsequent openness about what had transpired, neither had questioned the shift in their relationship—they naturally gravitated towards holding and comforting each other. Falling asleep together seemed like the right next step after the emotionally draining evening they had experienced; it was a simple and comforting way to support each other. Even considering leaving Jiyan alone after such a night was unimaginable to him.

Yawning and stretching his arms above his head, he shuffled to the door, muttering under his breath about whoever had the audacity to disturb so early in the morning.

Peering through the door's peephole, he immediately recognized his sister's figure, and a shock of cold realisation shot through him, fully waking him up. Damn, he had completely forgotten about their plans for this morning.

As he opened the door, attempting to offer an apology, his sister launched into a scolding tirade, oblivious to his efforts to quiet her down. The living room wasn’t far, and even though Jiyan seemed to be a deep sleeper, he doubted she would stay asleep for long with his sister's loud reprimands.

"You were still asleep?! Cillian, I told you we needed to buy Sile’s present this morning. With me covering for a colleague this week, I'm swamped, and we agreed to do it today!"

"Orla, morning… I know, I'm sorry, very. I'll find Sile's present on my own later, just please lower your voice," Cillian pleaded.

"Lower my voice?! This is the third time you've postponed it. Her birthday is next week! You were busy with work the past few weeks, but now what? You just forgot? And why do you look so tired? Were you out yesterday night—" Orla paused, her gaze shifting past him.

 Turning around, Cillian saw Jiyan standing there, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants that were clearly too big for her, giving his sister ammo about a crazy night spent the night before, where she spent the night here and now she was wearing his clothes. 

Jiyan appeared still a bit sleepy and somewhat taken aback to find someone else in the house. "Um, hi, sorry, I heard voices and—" Jiyan trailed off, her cheeks flushing with a hint of concern about the situation she had walked into.

"Really, Cilian? Really?" Orla interrupted, looking annoyed with her brother.

"Orla, it's not..." Cilian began, then he shook his head, hoping to dispel any misunderstanding that he had spent the night drinking and picking up random women at the pub. 

He turned to Jiyan, hoping to clarify everything; this was not the morning he had imagined.

"Jiyan, this is my sister, Orla. I forgot we had to buy a present for our youngest sister this morning, and she's giving me an earful. Orla, this is Jiyan, my... This is Jiyan," he concluded a bit awkwardly, turning back to his sister.

"Jiyan?" Orla repeated, making the connection, and sounding placated for the moment, with a hint of sisterly curiosity. "Oh... I'm sorry, I must seem like a crazy sister, but this one," she gestured towards Cillian, "is the most unorganised person I've ever met. I'm Orla, nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand to Jiyan.

"Nice to meet you too," Jiyan replied, still feeling a bit uncertain about the situation. "I can go if you need to go out, it's really no problem-"

"No!" Cilian exclaimed a bit too forcefully, cutting her off before his sister could intervene and convince Jiyan to leave. "Orla was just leaving. I'll buy something later this week, and everything will be alright, right Orla?" he asked, looking at his sister.

Orla glanced between them a couple of times, as if watching a ping pong match, before finally settling her gaze on her brother's determined expression, realising there was no way she could win this battle and following their planned morning.

"Sure," she confirmed, though with a hint of warning. "But if you forget like Mum's birthday last year-"

"It was two years ago!" he defended himself.

"I don't care," she told him firmly. "I have to go now. Jiyan, it was a pleasure to finally put a face to your name. Cillian couldn’t stop talking about you during Paddy's -"

"Yes!" Cillian said, raising his voice, cutting off his sister to comment further. "Orla, I think it’s time. You really should go," he interjected, gently nudging his sister towards the door and subtly hinting for her to leave, hoping to salvage some of the dignity he had left.

His sister finally composed herself and exited, bidding her goodbyes to Jiyan, but not without one last firm reminder to her brother.

After closing the door behind his departing sister and exhaling a held breath, Cillian turned back to Jiyan, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief.

"Sorry about that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "My sister can be a bit... persistent. I completely forgot that we had to meet this morning."

Jiyan glanced at the floor, uncertainty clouding her expression. After all that had been said the previous night, she was still shocked by what had transpired and perhaps a little ashamed of her own reactions. "I can really go, if you-"

"I don’t want you to go," he said, cutting her off.

They stood in the hallway entrance, bathed in natural sunlight from the living room, casting a deep ambiance around them. As he looked at Jiyan, he soon forgot about his sister's impromptu visit. The tension he had felt multiple times in the past months was coming alive that morning, making his hair on both his arms feel energised, as if pure electric energy was coursing through him.

"Cillian… I…" Jiyan started to say.

"Can I say something?" he interjected, his voice trembling a little with emotion, starting to feel his heart beating faster. "I know it's only been a couple of months since we met, but the more time I spend with you, Jiyan, the more connected I feel. It's like I've known you for decades, like I can understand what you're feeling and thinking.

He paused briefly before continuing, his words pouring out in a rush. "Yesterday night... Yesterday night, it was draining and exhausting for you, and I understand if you feel like you've exposed yourself to more hurt, or if you think you've shown a vulnerable side of yourself. But I see you, Jiyan. I think I really see someone for the first time, and what I see is beautiful. You have nothing to apologise for or feel ashamed of that happened yesterday. Nothing."

For a long moment, she just looked at him. Looked at that sensitive, generous, humble, handsome man who had offered refuge to her last night, after one of the worst panic attacks she had ever experienced. Who has listened and supported her, making her feel for the first time not alone in what she was going through. She could see in him someone with whom she didn’t have to hide - not her feelings, not her emotions, not her past or insecurities.

"I think... I think I also see you," she said, walking closer to him until their chests were almost touching, locking her gaze with his deep blue eyes that reminded her so much of the sea.

As her heartbeat quickened, but not like the night before, she didn't feel panic this time; she felt alive, a tingling sensation coursing through every part of her body.

Cillian didn't respond with words. Instead, he gently cupped her face with one hand, his eyes speaking volumes, like she could read the myriad shades of the ocean within them. His breathing changed too, influenced by their proximity and her presence.

She wasn't sure who moved first or who initiated the first contact. All she knew was that the first touch felt like finally coming home again. Her hand found its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, craving to deepen the connection and feel more of him. Their initial tentative kiss quickly turned passionate, almost desperate, as if they feared the other would vanish in the next moment.

His hands found their place on her waist, slipping under her hoodie and eliciting a groan from deep within his chest as he felt her warm skin, his thumbs tracing circles on her taut abdomen.

She lightly nibbled on his lower lip, drawing another deep groan from him, before resting her forehead against his, breathing him in, both of them trying to catch their breath.

"Ok, wow," she said, opening her eyes again and gazing into his.

"Yeah," he agreed, his arms holding her close to him, not wanting to let her go. She held his cheek, breathing him in, closing her eyes and relaxing into their embrace. If their first kiss had quickly turned passionate, the second time their lips met, she wanted to convey all the different feelings she had, feeling connected to him, letting herself go, and trusting him to accept her.

She let out a high-pitched moan when he responded, exploring her mouth with his tongue, wanting her to feel as much as he was feeling in that moment, wanting to deepen it and at the same time just enjoy their exchange that made him feel like he was walking on the moon.

She also wanted to feel more of him, holding one of her hands on his heart, feeling his chest expand and his heart beating frantically. She then started kissing his jaw and snuggled into his neck, softly biting the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"Jiyan," he warned, closing his eyes to catch his breath again and gain some sort of control over his body.

She made an innocuous sound, then repeated her action, eliciting another deep groan from him. He moved his arm from under the hoodie she was wearing to cup her cheeks.

"You are a tease," he said softly, planting a soft peck on her lips again.

“Who says I am teasing?” she retorted, joy bubbling up from her chest as her hands ran through his hair.

“Come on, you need some food in you after yesterday, before we do anything that requires more effort.”

“Ah, so it’s an effort for you, Murphy?” she teased him, “Didn’t think you were this old,” she said, sliding her fingers into his as she followed him to the kitchen, settling on one of the kitchen stools.

He ignored her last comment with a smile, opening the fridge and inspecting its sad remains.

“I have some toast, cheese, and eggs, but I know you don’t eat those. There’s a lemon and a very questionable package of mushrooms.”

"Urgh," she made a disappointed moan.

“I know, sorry. I just got back yesterday and haven’t had a chance to go to the big shop yet.”

“Do you have some canned chickpeas? Or canned beans?” she asked.

“Maybe, I can check the pantry.”

After she gathered some canned chickpeas and quickly made some hummus to eat with toast, he prepared some scrambled eggs with toast and cheese.

“I should really bring you a package of real tea here and teach you how to make chai,” she said as they sat facing each other, their knees touching, and his left hand resting on her thigh. Since the night before, where he had held and comforted her, it was like both of them couldn't stop touching each other, almost like they always needed some kind of physical connection.

“Please feel free to bring as much chai as you want and teach me that wizardry that you Kurds call tea. You knew I would become a complete addict to that.”

“Yup, that's our evil plan for Kurdistan liberation, making white people fall in love with our chai so they would finally stop persecuting us.”

“See, I always knew you had a second motive,” he joked.

After finishing the last of her hummus on toast, a real champion’s breakfast, she looked at him with a more serious expression.

"After finishing the last of her hummus on toast, a real champion’s breakfast, she looked at him with a more serious expression.

"I know you said you didn’t want me to apologise, so I won’t," she said, resting her hand over his on her leg. "But thank you for taking care of me yesterday, for your patience, and for listening to me. I don’t think I've ever told anyone all of that before."

"I will always want to listen to you and be there for you, I think," he said sincerely. "I know we both said we weren’t looking for something beyond friendship, Jiyan, but I don’t think..."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "During the past few weeks, while I was working in Galway, I tried to detach myself from you and think about it objectively. I wanted to see if it was just like my other past relationships, where I could lose myself in work and disappear. And I could, partly. I think acting will always be liberating for me because I can stop being myself for some time. But when I stopped and was back to being Cillian, I wanted to share it all with you. I’m not sure how it will all go, but I want to try to have this deep connection that I feel with you, Jiyan. Because for the first time, I feel I can be more than just a good actor, a decent brother, or someone who makes my family proud."

She didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, just staring at their interlined fingers, playing with them.

"During these weeks, when you weren’t here, I also had time to think. I think that’s also why yesterday I had that reaction. Newroz was the first time where I talked again about Samyah, or I felt she was there, back with me, celebrating. It’s like I pushed all away and now I am feeling all of it together. When you were away, I understood how much more difficult it was, feeling all of that without you… here. I am also not sure how it will be, I am not sure how much I am able to give to you right now. You saw yesterday how easily I can break down…” she said, taking a breath and looking back at him. “But I also would love to know what it really feels like, to share all of this with you."

“You are not the only one that is not sure how much I am able to give. Sometimes when I am so deep into my work, I feel like a shadow of myself. Even if I am there, the people around me feel like I am a ghost of the man I am, and maybe the worst is that I love losing myself so deep into a role. It’s the best feeling, even if I feel like shit at the end of the process,” he finished, trying to joke about it, intertwining his fingers with hers, wanting to feel her closer.

“What a pair we make, eh?” she smiled.

He chuckled at that, finishing his last bite of eggs. “Do you have plans today?” he asked, hoping to not get separated too soon.

“I don’t think I want to do anything. Every time I have one of those breakdowns, I feel exhausted the next couple of days. I just want to lay down and maybe watch something.”

“One of those?” he asked worriedly.

“They started a couple of months after Samyah’s passing. Moving here helped. I just had something similar the day I came back from the hospital, after what happened at the pub.”

He stroked her arm gently, not knowing how to help or what he could say. She was confronting her demons with an acceptance that he did not possess, almost like it was natural that things like this were happening and after those few days life would go on, with Jiyan being back to her solar and sassy self. On one side, he was slightly feeling frustrated about her laid-back attitude; he knew that he would not have her grace to behave like that if something similar happened to him. On the other hand, he was really amazed by the woman in front of him, by her resilience and her strength.

“If you don’t want to be on your own, but if you want some company, we can go back on the sofa, choose some comfort movies, and just relax. Later we can order something if we feel hungry.”

“You sure you are okay about spending the day watching movies with me?”

“It would be just grant, Jiyan,” he said, grinning, getting up from the kitchen island and gathering their plates to put them in the dishwasher.

“Are we allowed to snack during these movies?” she asked hopefully, as if they hadn't just finished breakfast.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked back.

“Popcorn?” she asked eagerly. 

“I'll put them in the microwave. Go check if you can find some movies,” he suggested.

“Do you have Star Wars?” she called from the living room.

“Yup, check the shelves on the left,” he said loudly back, just after putting two bowls of popcorn in the microwave and looking for some jalapenos. Then he paused for a moment, thinking about what George Lucas might say, knowing stories about his character, knowing they were using his movies as comfort just after a panic attack. Well, if it worked for her, he would never say no to a Star Wars marathon.

It took him a couple of minutes to return to the living room, with Jiyan seated comfortably on one side of the sofa, wrapped in a fluffy blanket.

He passed her a bowl of popcorn as she pressed play, and “A New Hope” started. Sitting close to her, he started to enjoy the famous first scene of the saga, starting to understand why she found it comforting; it felt like being hugged by an old dear friend.

While Luke met Obi-Wan, Jiyan finished her bowl of popcorn, putting it on the floor. For a tiny person, she could pack away quite a bit of food. As she leaned back, before he could stop her, she took some popcorn from his still full bowl and then reacted with a shriek.

“What’s that?!”

“Popcorn,” he said back, ignoring her shock, hiding the bowl on his side of the couch, the furthest from Jiyan, worried what could happen to his guilty food treat. Hoping to refocus on the movie and avoid a topic that almost every friend or member of his family teased him for.

“No it’s not! Popcorn is crispy, salty, and addictive. What the fuck is that? It’s all soggy,” she whined, complaining.

He avoided her question until she started to tickle him on his side, making him squirm away.

“Jiyan!” he said, slightly annoyed, putting his bowl on the floor too, trying to avoid her tickling attack by grabbing both her wrists. As she tried to struggle away, Cillian pulled back, making her fall onto his chest, and him laying down on the couch.

“Are you finished?” he asked, raising one of his eyebrows.

“You are ticklish,” she answered, avoiding the question with a devious smile, like a cat that ate the canary.

“No,” he tried saying, keeping his face as serious as he could, but her smile only grew wider.

“You are,” she teased.

“Jiyan…” he warned.

“Tickling you is less than a deserved punishment for what you have done to the popcorn,” she defended.

“It’s my bowl,” he said exasperatedly.

“I don’t think even serial killers would dare to do whatever you have done to popcorn. Not even terrorists. Maybe cops, you would expect that from cops, or fascists…”

He interrupted her with a kiss, freeing one of her wrists and cupping her face. “Are you done?” he asked, his voice lowering a tone, smiling amusedly at her.

“You’re not gonna distract me from your crimes, Murphy,” she said, pouting, as he kissed back her pout.

“No?” he asked, this time smirking.

“You cannot bribe me, I’m incorruptible,” she said seriously, as she settled more comfortably into his embrace, starting to run her fingers through his hair. She loved how soft his hair was; it was so comforting.

“Sure, love,” he teased her, starting to kiss her jawline till he found the spot just under her lobe, sucking it and getting a moan from her that made his insides boil, feeling his pants getting tight.

He caressed her throat with his nose, continuing his exploration and being surrounded by her perfume. He could smell some of his body wash and another smell that he could only describe as Jiyan, it reminded him of the spices of chai and the salty air of the sea. He breathed deeply, feeling all his senses wake up and had to control himself, wanting to just turn around with her under him and kiss every centimetre of free skin possible.

Jiyan, who was starting to feel all putty in his hands, tried to get some sort of control back by grabbing his hair slightly to capture his lips, with her free hand sneaking under his t-shirt wanting to also feel his skin. She was welcomed with his smooth skin and the lines of his muscles clenching as she caressed them, gaining a deep groan vibrating from his chest that she swallowed before biting his lower lip.

He also slid his hand under his hoodie she was wearing, caressing her sides as his brain went blank when he noticed just now the absence of a t-shirt or the feel of a bra.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his breath laboured, as his hands were just under her breasts, wanting nothing more than to feel their weight. She arched herself into his hands, like a luxurious cat, nodding her head before brushing kisses along his neck.

He caressed slowly the side of her chest, consciously avoiding the most erogenous zones, making her press into his hands even more, wanting to guide him silently where she wanted him to be touched. He smirked at her attempt, running his thumbs close to where she needed them the most, never really touching them, feeling her trembling with desires but still teasing her. She was so responsive.

“Cillian…” she whined in his neck, grabbing his hair hard.

“Yes, love?” he asked, amused, enjoying playing this game.

“You know what…” she mumbled.

He chuckled, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Jiyan, annoyed and impatient with this man, got up sitting over his lap and in one move got rid of her hoodie, throwing it on the armchair next to them, leaving her topless in front of him. As Cillian's throat got dry and he was distracted by the view in front of him – her taut stomach and her round breasts with small dark areolas that were begging to be kissed – she used his distraction to push his shirt over his head, leaving his chest also bare in front of her.

“Are you done teasing?” she asked, her hands on his chest to balance over him.

“You are beautiful,” he said instead, not sure if he even heard her, his hands back on her, just under her ribs.

She bent and captured his lips, feeling the heat coming from him. His hands started to roam again, one holding her head and the other one cupping one breast, caressing her nipple, making her moan in their kiss. She felt his erection under her and moved her hips, starting a slow rhythm that made them both pant.

They lost themselves in the sensation of skin against skin, lips on lips, and fingers touching any part of skin they could reach.

As she started to rock faster, she started to feel the pressure and the heat inside her growing. When he moved his kisses to her neck and bit her, she moaned loud, feeling the electricity running in her body.

He slid his lips from her neck to the valley between her breasts, catching his breath slightly before he pressed his mouth to her nipples, sucking it slowly, gaining another deep moan from Jiyan. He used his teeth and tongue to explore, switching his attention from one breast to the other and Jiyan felt like her blood was burning, the pressure between her legs increasing.

She stopped her movements, making him look at her confused and worried, asking her if she was alright.

Instead she bent and captured his lips, the kiss became more heated. She then slid her hands in his sweatpants, breaking the kiss and asking silently if it was okay for him. At his eager nod, she got rid of his trousers with his help. As her hand ventured over his boxers, she lightly brushed against his erection, causing him to arch into her touch.

"Who's the tease now?" he rasped, his voice low and growling, as he eyed her with anticipation.

Instead of replying, she reached for him, pulling his underwear down to grasp his member, exploring him for the first time. Her touch was deliberate, moving slowly and firmly, savouring the weight of him and relishing in his laboured breaths and groans. She craved more.

As her thumb traced the pulsing vein on the side of his shaft, feeling his precum, his hands found her ass, gripping it firmly as he surrendered to the sensations she evoked. It didn't take much to push him to the brink.

"I want to feel you," he gasped, seizing her wrist to halt her movements. Looking into his glassy eyes, mirroring her own passion, she nodded.

Sitting up, she took his hand, guiding it to her sweatpants. Together, they shed her clothes, leaving her naked atop him.

"Are you clean?" she inquired, her hand caressing his member with a slow stroke.

"Yeah, are you?" he murmured, his voice dropping. "Do we need a condom?"

"I have an IUD, and I got tested in December when I donated blood on campus," she reassured him.

He nodded, cradling her face to kiss her fiercely once more. As they kissed languidly, catching their breath, her hands trailed down to his chest while his found her hips, aiding her in adjusting their positions.

Guiding him to her entrance, she began to sink onto him slowly, both of them moaning at the initial contact. She exhaled, trying to relax and accept his girth and length.

"Fuck… so tight," he groaned, closing his eyes as he felt her contracting. 

Feeling her stop, he opened his eyes back, trying to gather some control and staying as immobile as possible, "Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident as his thumbs circled her hips, offering support.

"Yeah, it's been a while," she whispered, closing her eyes to focus on her gradual movements, starting moving slowly.

Supporting her with one hand, he found her folds with the other, feeling how wet she was and searching for her clit. Slowly, he circled it with his thumb, causing her to close her eyes, arch her back, and moan deeply as she slowly sank down. She let out a deep whine when his entire length rested inside her.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked, suppressing his own desires and focusing on her well-being.

"Yeah, it feels good," she said, breathing slowly. "I just need a moment."

She was incredibly tight and warm, enveloping him like a glove. He took a deep breath, restraining himself from moving and allowing her to adjust. He lay back down, enjoying the view of the gorgeous woman in front of him, holding her waist gently, he couldn’t stop touching that soft sunkissed skin.

As she began to feel more comfortable, she squeezed her walls experimentally, feeling him stiffen under her touch.

"Fuck, Jiyan!" he moaned deeply, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on her waist.

With slow movements, she adjusted her hips, searching for a good angle and relishing the sensation of him filling her up. As her movements became smoother, his tip brushed against a soft spot inside her, eliciting a deep moan from her, causing her to arch her back and lose her rhythm.

"Here?" he asked, using his other hand to guide her hips.

"Yes, don't stop," she said, feeling the pleasure intensifying and her walls pulsating.

Time seemed to slow for both of them as they rapidly approached their limits quickly, it had been sometime also for him. Cillian felt her walls spasm around him, signalling her impending release. His thumb went back to circle her clit as her hips stuttered and lost their rhythm. The tension inside him grew like a taut bow ready to be released.

"I'm so close," she gasped, her breathing laboured.

"I am too," he replied, withdrawing his fingers from her folds and gripping her hips tightly. Taking control of the rhythm, he thrust his hips upward, feeling her walls contracting around him. She reached for her breasts, pinching her nipples.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he growled, captivated by the sight before him.

Without warning, he felt her orgasm approaching, the sensations spreading through her body and engulfing her in pleasure, eliciting deep moans. As she tightened around him, pulling him in and causing him to groan loudly. It didn't take long for him to follow suit, his body tensing as his release filled her insides. They both felt her spasms and the aftershocks of their orgasms.

They remained intertwined for several minutes, trying to catch their breath, their sweaty bodies pressed together. Exhausted, Jiyan leaned down while Cillian embraced her, gently caressing her back.

Pressing a tender kiss on her shoulder, he whispered in her ear, "Are you okay?"

She murmured a sleepy affirmation, planting kisses between his neck and shoulder.

"Do you want to stay here or go to bed?" he inquired.

"Bed," she mumbled, though she made no move to get up.

"Do you need help, love?" he asked, slightly amused.

Instead of answering, she kissed his neck and hugged him tightly, causing him to chuckle.

"Hmm," she mumbled, with a yawn.

Chuckling, he sat up, still inside her, eliciting a soft moan as he withdrew. Wrapping his arms around her, he carried her upstairs, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before gently laying her down on his bed. After quickly cleaning himself in the ensuite and grabbing a cloth for her, he returned to admire her naked form before laying beside her, cleaning up the mess they had made.

"Thank you," she mumbled, her voice hoarse as she opened her eyes.

He tossed the cloth into the hamper and lay back, embracing her from behind. Pressing a kiss on her neck, he whispered, "You're amazing," as she snuggled into him, emitting a satisfied moan.

"That was a first for a Star Wars marathon," she said softly, her voice already sleepy and relaxed.

"Well, it did bring us comfort," he replied, hugging her tighter.

"Mmmh, I hope all our movie marathons end this way," she murmured, her energy fading.

"If you have enough energy, I can show you the best part later," he teased.

"Mmmh, sleepy," she moaned.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," he said, closing his eyes and planting one last kiss on her neck.

"Mmmh mmm," she mumbled, relaxing, as they both fell into a restful sleep.

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Thank you so much for taking the time to read this chapter. Your feedback, in any form helps me to continue write this story; and comments makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

[dylanconrique]

lucy waking up from a nightmare about her DOD and being comforted by tim is so detrimental to me. i need it more than the oxygen that fills my lungs.

[lovelaceisntdead]

Oh. having a bad time.

[pussy-ache]

probably should talk to my sister sooner or later

[thebibliosphere]

Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.

I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.

Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.

Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.

The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.

Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.

I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.

So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.

If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.

Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.

And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.

And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.

I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.

Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.

Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.

I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + HE TALKS YOU THROUGH IT

— ꒰ including ꒱ — diluc, wriothesley, childe, ayato

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — dirty talk, oral (fem! receiving) rough syx & dom genshin men, petnames used: baby, love, darling, good girl, pussy drunk men, fem! reader ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ

— ꒰ DILUC ꒱

you wince, before feeling diluc's hands caress your frame softly as he urges you towards the bed slightly, "lay down, c’mon hurry for me, i will get on my knees for you," your face burned at his words, your blood boiling extremely hot— regardless, you do not go against your boyfriends instructions and obediently drop on your back, head bouncing against the soft pillows and legs propped up your heels.

diluc follows you right away, settling his hands against your lower stomach, "let me slip these off you," and his voice was pummeling into your blood, sounding raspier than usual, presenting himself teasingly, taunting

how can someone be so sexy, yet also gentleman alike at the very same time?

you always wonder and never find an answer.

his fingers are skillful, yet they are also dangerous, feverishly slipping into the waistband of your wet panties to slide them off you— your pussy bare and exposed now, clenching around nothing as it earns you a disgustingly sinful groan from him.

"there you go, you're so pretty," he breathes and spits on your clit before rubbing the saliva over your puffy folds with his digits, "my pretty girl."

diluc leans into your thighs and places a subtle kiss on your knee, holding a crooked smile— such kiss was certainly concealing something beneath the surface, mingled with aroused ideas of how the next couple of hours will look like.

"you know what to do, right?" he motions, getting on his knees as his dick presses painfully against his tight pants. of course, you know what he's talking about and situate your legs against his shoulders, earning yourself an appreciate hum from the red haired man.

without a word, warm air wafts over your slicked folds and trembling skin as diluc's fingers hold against you gently, the tip of his wet muscle experimentally nudging at the hood of your sensitive clit.

he doesn't falter in his rhythm and gives your cunt a good, fat lap of tongue and saliva before trailing down to your hole.

he noses his way to your clit and presses his mouth against it firmly, your cunt throbbing at the connect of his tongue licking you in shifting patterns, the vehement sounds of saliva and arousal slapping and slapping and splattering all over his tongue had your toes curled, lips parted.

"ooh you taste so good darling, you taste so fucking good, fuck—" he moans, and he sounded so desperate, like he's going to skip the foreplay once and for all and fuck you into the bee until you couldn't walk nor move for weeks.

your legs entwine and shiver on his shoulders, your control over your body lost and slipping from the palms of your hands as murmurs of encouragement hit your sensitive pussy— your fingers splayed possessively into his scarlet hair as you ride his face and cry his name.

"let me make you feel good, it's gonna feel good, promise," diluc mumbles into your cunt as his nose continuously nudges into your puffy clit, his slender fingers probing at your hole when his tongue laps around you.

in between your quivering thighs— everything felt wet, disgustingly sloppy and so hot and you wonder if diluc didn't secretly use his vision on you to get this particular effect from you.

alas, his slacked mouth was meeting your hips, your core stuttering up into his face as you craved, no, needed more friction, needed more of his voice crumbling at the taste of you as your eyes drift over the fluffy clouds of pleasure in your head.

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

wriothesley looks down on your twisted expression and a sheen line of sweat pillowing on your forehead, "look at me," his face was tilted at the side as you felt his complete weight cover, crush and fold your body in half.

the press and burn of his cock was breaching in and out of you fast, in fact, yes, wriothesley was aware of your strong liking towards his dominating aura in the bedroom, especially when he's looking at you through glazed eyes and his sweat laced chest rising and falling when you clench around him.

he knows it all, and he's been wanting to pleasure you over and over all this time.

"look at me in my eyes," he commands again, forcing you to look at him, yet all you could muster was to part your eyes slightly, an overcast mist of salaciousness prevailing over you.

he shatters, widens and parts your sloppy hole effortlessly, turning you addicted off the strong, thick compress in your pussy that you almost didn't even realize he's managed to coax literal tears from your eyes, pull them out one by one, small crystals sinfully glimmering on your sticky lashes and shouting more more more.

"you're so good, you're so good, my good fucking girl," he drawls proudly and smirks down at you, his voice explosive with thirst and longing, "my good girl, mine, you hear me?" as he assures you and moves his hips with one quick roll of his dripping dick, beginning to fuck into you.

wriothesley knows you deserve it, deserve to be bounced back and forth the bed until you're full of his semen, yes, you do, and you know it.

"you feel me in you? feel me, fucking feel me baby,"

driven by curiosity, you focus your eyes at the man on top of you, swearing there was nothing more handsome than somebody like wriothesley, a highly respected duke, whispering those sweet and filthy profanities into your mouth while his cock thickens within your soft walls, "does that feel good, yeah? i can see it on your face"

"yesyesyes… it does," you whine and squeeze at his words, his cock dragging and pressing and dragging so strongly along your wet walls before he's stuttering in midst a long, languid thrust, his head thrown back and facing up the ceiling— not long after, loading you up of his creamy cum.

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

"come on, show me how good i make you feel," childe messily flicks his cock-head over the reactive hood of your clit, poking and tapping at your softness as you moan out his name— making him laugh at you sweetly, although breathless, his chest rising, pupils dilated wide with hunger, gaze luxuriant upon your naked body.

childe knows how to handle you— until your thighs were shaking and hole spread wide as you're soaking him, ruining him and turn the harbingers usual confidence-loaded expression into a shade of something else— something almost frightening.

"you want it? you want my cock, hm?" he fists himself in front of you, pushing in deep through the small tunnel in his palm as you whine out for him in desperation, "yes baby, please, i want to feel you,"

ajax laughs, humming in approval at the choice of words in your answer, "i know you do, baby, there you go then," as he towers proudly against your skin, his handsome face all twisted and menacing on top of you as he inserts the head slowly.

"feel my tip, right there," he continues and groans when your hole flawlessly forms around him, rasping harshly inside his throat, "you're so wet, fuck, ’m gonna slide in really easy, aren't i?"

this is good, this is so fucking good— archons, childe believes he must be in heaven right now.

you're just so warm, so soft and wet, how was he supposed to let alone breathe when you're taking him so well?

he grumbles lowly, starting to press his cock into you as he digs his fingers into your hips before testing the waters, rolling his hips a little faster, then alternating between fast and slow to find the best rhythm for the both of you. afresh— he pulls a long, shaky moan from past your swollen lips when he finds your sore spots, your skin pressing and slapping together in a delirious tempo and pitches of rapture.

"let me take care of you, i got this," you clutch on to him tenderly and nod your head, your spit filthily pooling at your throat as childe tenderly kisses your temple, "don't hurt your sweet, little head over this, leave it to me, yeah? fuck baby, okay...okay, i'm gonna— fuck you're so tight,"

his thrusts turn more impatient and uneven, although the heaviness was still unmatched as your walls were grabbing him, pulling him in deeper, your hips instinctively rutting up into his to feel more and more, just fucking more, "fuck, i'm gonna make you feel so good tonight,"

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

ayato's cheeks, jaw and eyes were illuminated by the sight of your body pulled underneath his own— and his cock was oozing of clear pre, his hand rubbing over his solid erection until the sticky semen dribbles down the crook of your thigh.

in any remembered previous night, ayato had always been very much into foreplay, well, only if his frustration levels were on the lower side. in terms of now, he cannot be bothered to focus on his train of thoughts when all the blood was stored in his rock-hard cock thudding heavily and hurting him.

it's so painful— but watching your pussy being empty and not full of his cock was even more distressing.

he slaps his tip over your hole before sheathing himself up with you, his eyebrows lasciviously quirked at you, "all the way in, love, i'm going all the way in," he began to pull his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration, your eyes glazed over as he watches you writhe beneath him the moment he inserts himself.

you gasp audibly, your body tensing and nerves freezing at the solid press on your hole before your back instinctively arches into his defined chest.

"oh you feel too damn good, fuck, you're messing with me, aren't you?" his lips drag over your searing cheeks, drinking up your budding tears and the drool slipping from past your lips, lapping it all up with one single lick of tongue.

"you feel me there? right there," you felt his warm hand press against your stomach, an intoxicating combination of bliss and sensitivity rushing through your system as his body was near close to crushing you with his weight.

ayato was fucking ruthless, frustrated and as if it's his last time of being inside of you— no shame, no pauses, only pushing into you weightily, his balls smacking against your ass as you're feeling so satisfied when your pussy quivers around him, holding him close.

"open your legs a lil more for me, c'mon, i know you can do it" he groans and fucks into you with one sharp push and shove, "i wanna fit it all inside," before stretching and driving you towards insanity.

his tone was as focused as his expression and his stance, "you've always done it so good for me," as you squeeze the moment he says it out loud— the moment he reminds you of all the countless of times where he's left you utterly spent and full of his cum, your hole throbbing and letting it ooze out before he fucks it right back into you, turning you breathless.

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