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The Most Comfortable Luxury Mattress by Pranasleep is crafted with premium materials, offering plush comfort and support for a peaceful night's sleep. It features advanced pressure relief technology for rejuvenating rest. Have a look in our website.
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dtaylor67 · 1 year
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A Glimpse into the World of Opulent Hotel Mattresses: Crafting, Components, and Elegance ?
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Unveiling a realm of sumptuous repose, the world of luxury hotel mattresses redefines the art of sleep. Within the United Kingdom, including Ireland, the quest for the best mattress is enriched by opulent offerings from distinguished luxury mattress brands. These premium slumber havens are crafted to perfection, encapsulating the epitome of comfort and design.
From the bustling urban landscapes to the serene countryside, mattress Ireland outlets and online platforms showcase an array of elite bedding options. Crafted with meticulous precision, the materials used in these mattresses range from plush memory foam and natural latex to cutting-edge pocketed coils. Each component harmoniously amalgamates to create a lavish sleep experience that transcends the ordinary.
The leading luxury mattress brands meticulously engineer their creations, ensuring that every stitch and spring contributes to a harmonious sleep ecosystem. These opulent mattresses are designed not only to support the body but also to elevate the aesthetics of the bedroom space.
Incorporating innovative features such as advanced cooling technologies and tailored firmness options, the best mattress Ireland offers is a testament to the amalgamation of science and art. The availability of premium mattresses online further amplifies the accessibility of these refined sleeping companions.
Indulging in a luxurious night’s sleep becomes an achievable reality through the realm of lavish hotel mattresses. In the United Kingdom and Ireland, the marriage of craftsmanship, premium materials, and elegant design elevates sleep into an art form that can be relished in the comfort of one’s own abode.
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foldingfittedsheets · 29 days
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One time I got wrangled into doing the fair circuit to sell beds. It’s truly terrible and not many people go to a fair looking for a luxury mattress I quit after three days because I couldn’t sleep in the hotel or make fair sales and it was miserable.
But on the same circuit they decided to sell some massage chairs and they had a different team of people trained to sell those. One of them was a pretty butch lesbian around my age, so naturally I gravitated to hanging out with her on shuttle rides to and from the hotel.
We chatted and she flirted and I didn’t think anything of it until one day I casually mentioned my ex girlfriend. Her jaw dropped and she was like, “You’re gay?!”
“What?! Of course I am! Why do you think we’ve been hanging out?? You’re the only other queer person here!”
Turns out. She just wanted to flirt it up with a straight girl and thought I was flattered and never once considered that I like to dine on pussy too.
I went back to my extremely straight home store and asked my manager in despair, “Don’t I look gay????”
“You have asymmetrical hair, giant glasses, leather boots, and a million flannels,” he consoled me. “You look gay. Don’t worry.”
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goodnightnaturals · 1 year
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Phone: (866) 388-5154
Address: 5979 W 3rd St Ste 102, Los Angeles, CA 90036 USA Email: [email protected]
To build a comfortable, healthy and long-lasting mattress requires a different approach from the current conventional mattress market. We begin by designing our mattresses with natures finest, natural and non-toxic materials that provide exceptional performance: certified woven and stretch-knit cottons, eco-wool, 100% naturalatex foams, and steel coils. Every night on your Good Night Naturals mattress is a reminder that you’re doing something good for you body, mind and soul. Create your own personal sleep-nirvana and wake up with a clear and clean outlook ready to take on a new day.
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emotionoitme · 2 months
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don’t call my name
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don't call my name - skinshape
warnings: roommate trope, pervy carmy, like this man needs to get a grip, sexual tension & sexual innuendo, yearning as always, nudity and some steaminess, alcohol (its one drink), some dirty touches and lots of teasing + dirty talking lol, future smut (freaky), no use of y/n or you
wc: 8.6k
a/n: new 3-PART SERIES!! hiiii i’m sorry i’ve been awol for so long but s3 has sent me into a feral frenzy and thats what motivates me to write for carmy <3 he kind of pissed me off this season but i’m horny for him anyways so enjoy!!  (from the same horny silly mind as “about a girl”)
series masterlist
playlist (updates with each chapter)
fucking inflation.
carmen berzatto would rather die than try and find a roommate.
with chicago’s residential rent quadrupling, he found it increasingly stressful balancing monthly apartment payments with the nonstop financial demand of owning a restaurant. 
if it wasn’t fixing the walk in fridge, it was fixing the gas line that had a leak. not to mention staffing, fancy dishware, food cost, utilities. the bear was a big up and coming success in the community, but he was damned if it didn’t take a lot of money to keep a restaurant running. 
it wouldn’t have been so stressful all on its own, either, not if his new fuckhead landlord didn’t send all the tenants a yellow slip informing them of the $2500 monthly increase in rent. 
the place was nice—he recently made a decision that was long deliberated, moveing from his small, admittedly humble apartment complex to a “luxury unit”. 
he found it to be quite an adjustment. It was newer, and much nicer than what carmy was used to. the place was fully furnished and had two-levels connected by floating stairs, as well as tall windows that reached the ceiling and illuminated the space with natural light. 
it was a gorgeous place, but the sudden increase in rent did nothing more than fuel the disdain that he had accumulated for landlords over the years. 
so, came to terms with the fact that he would have to either deal with the hassle of moving out, cut into the restaurant’s budgeting, or the dreaded third option. finding a roommate. 
the stress plagued his mind all night as he tried to sleep, tossing and turning over his pillow. 
someone to share a small space with, quarrel over messes with, debate over rent share with. not to mention he had grown accustomed to small freedoms like cooking in the middle of the night or walking around naked. 
there was also the fact that he had been lonely recently, succumbing to sexual frustrations that reminded him all too well of being a teenager again. it had crept up on him slowly, the urge to hold another person again. to be touched by someone else. 
he had been so worked up, he was being plagued by wet dreams. it was like being back in middle school for the man. finding himself waking up face down in the bed, clutching a pillow he had drooled on with a throbbing erection in his boxers. finding himself rutting his hips against the mattress to try and alleviate some of the pressure that had built up in his body. a thin sheen of sweat covered him as he felt increasingly hot. maybe he would want to bring someone home in the near future, and how would that work with a roommate? what a fucking nightmare. 
he bit into the pillow and let out a soft groan as he continued to slowly rock his hips against the mattress. 
he slid his hand down, fingers tucking into his boxers and wrapping around his erection. the dream had felt so real while he was asleep, recalling soft skin beneath his fingertips, recalling himself posessively gripping this skin as a hot, wet tightness engulfed his cock. he nuzzles his face further into the pillow as he pumps his hand softly over his length.
the lack of anything romantic or sexual in his life was probably for the best. but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss it. 
carmen brought his hand up to his mouth, spitting into his palm and shoving his boxers down to slick himself up. it felt as if a white heat was beginning to surge through his body, unaccustomed to the touch. 
he had been so busy, wound so tightly. he began rutting his hips to meet his hand, releasing a low moan into the pillow. it was like the dream had gotten him almost completely to the finish line, feeling overwhelmingly sensitive from the brief touches. his other hand gripped at his comforter as he felt himself coming up on an orgasm, muscles tensing, mouth falling open.
the sharp blare of his phone ringing right next to his ear caused him to jump, ripping his hand out from his boxers and sitting up. it took him a second to orient himself, heart pounding and breaths labored.
he felt his skin heat with anger as his eyes darted over to the screen to see an unknown number. 
another four seconds and he would have been blissfully falling over the edge he hadn’t fallen over in a long time. 
he hurriedly shoved the phone up to his ear. 
“what?” he snapped into the line, patience wearing incredibly thin. the receiving end was quiet for a beat, before a woman’s voice hesitantly responded. 
“hi…um, i was calling about the listing for the unit on maple… is this the right number?” 
carmy ran a hand over his face, resting his forehead in his hand. the pent up tension began to partially subside, mind now focusing on his sustained issue of finding a roommate. 
“no, yeah. uh, sorry,” he cleared his throat, “this is carmen.”
“oh. hi,” the girl’s voice responded, sounding slightly surprised. she relayed her own name, as he found himself closing his eyes and tuning into the sound of her voice. 
“i saw your ad in the tribune, and i’m kind of in a rough spot right now with my shithea- sorry, my landlord increasing the rent. i only need a place for a few months before i go back to the west coast.” 
he let himself chuckle at her correction, hand falling to the blanket above his erection. 
“yeah,” he responded, “i’m, uh, all too familiar with shithead landlords. that’s why i put the ad out in the first place. my rent is fuckin’ going up 2500 bucks.” hearing a small gasp resonate through the line at this.
“so i take it you’re not…totally enthusiastic about getting a roommate?” she questioned with a laugh.
something inside his stomach fluttered at the sound of her laugh. enough to feel a twitch from under the blanket. 
god damn, was he wound tightly. 
“no- i’m… well, yes, but-“ he exhales, “i guess it just has to be a good fit. i’m used to living alone.” 
the girl lets out a hum of agreement. 
“well, when can i meet you, carmen? test out how well you…fit?” 
he had to stifle a groan at this, a dull, aching throb coming from beneath his covers. he palmed his hand over the clothed hardness. he didn’t even know what this girl looked like and somehow she was eliciting a response from him. he made a mental note to try and get laid over the next week. even if it was just a shitty one night stand. anything to alleviate this ferocity he felt. 
“yeah, um,” he responds, slightly horse “i’m actually taking the day off tomorrow, so, then?” 
the girl giggled again. 
“wow, lucky you, taking off work on a sunday?” she teased. he takes his hand off his clothed erection and runs his hand through his unruly curls.
“yeah, i, uh, work in a restaurant. so it really is lucky…” dread filled his stomach at the thought of playing catch-up come monday. hopefully the staff would work smoothly enough to accommodate his absence. 
“i’m really the lucky one,” she responds, “the sooner i can end my lease, the better. and you’re the first actual response i’ve gotten all week.” a pause. “can i come by tomorrow morning and check the place out?” 
carmy’s eyes flickered towards his open bedroom door, acknowledging the cleaning he would have to squeeze in today. 
“yeah, the, uh…. the morning works” he responded. 
“i won’t be interrupting anything, right?” she asked. 
his eyes glanced down to the hardened outline under his sheets. 
“no,” he rested his head back against the wall, “no, i’m open. come at 9? unit 407.” 
“okay, yeah. i’ll be there. bye, carmen” she sweetly chimed. 
he let out a breath as the phone disconnected. this woman could’ve been anyone, yet something about the way she said his name sent a wave of heat through his body. he glanced back down at his hardness, then at the clock. 
“fuck” he exhaled, denoting the limited time he had before he had to be at the resturaunt. he ran a hand over his face before throwing the covers off of him and forcing himself out of bed. he readjusted the tent of his boxers and walked downstairs and into the kitchen. fuck this rent increase. he loved living alone. 
carmen downed a glass of water, allowing some of the cool liquid to spill onto his bare chest. he told himself he dreaded the next morning when he would meet the woman who called him, regardless of how his body responded to the sound of her voice. 
he definitely wasn’t lonely, curious, or excited to see what she would be like. 
fuck having a roommate.
he bent down to strip himself of his boxers, leaving them on the floor as he walked into the bathroom to start the shower. he drew back the curtain and let the water hit him without warming up. 
what about being able to come home at any hour of the night? or stashing his jeans in the oven? no longer would he be comfortable succumbing to freedoms as simple as jerking off on the couch. 
so because of that, carmen would rather die than try and find a roommate. 
or, at least that’s what he had thought initially. 
by no means did he expect his old fashioned newspaper ad to bring her. 
his first thought was that she was beautiful, and he found himself drinking in the sight of her as if he were a man lost in a desert and she was a cool blue pond. 
she was younger, he guessed early twenties, and cute. carmen had never considered himself the type of guy who had a type, but that split second after which he had opened the door made him rethink that prior assumption.
it also didn’t help that she had shown up in a tiny skirt and a long sleeved shirt that was so fucking tight he could see the perk of her nipples through the fabric. and what could he say to defend himself? at the end of the day he was just a man. 
the first genuine thing he noticed, however, was her smile, alongside a mischievous glint in her eyes, which he was immediately enamored with. it was like opening the door and being completely blindsided, resulting in an awkward first few seconds as they stood staring at each other. the girl expectantly waited for him to invite her inside. he hadn't even realized that she had already greeted him and he was just starting back at her dumbfoundedly. 
“uh. sorry,” he broke the silence, “hi. it’s nice to meet you” he stuck out his hand. 
she gave him a warm smile and reached out to shake his hand. 
“so nice to meet you, carmen.” 
her hand was soft. and he liked the way it seemed to disappear in his. she pulled it back sooner than he would’ve liked. he reciprocated her small smile. 
“carmy is fine,” he stepped to the side “come on in.”
he watched as her eyes scanned down his face, to his lips, neck, chest, before glancing back up. 
he could’ve sworn her cheeks colored a bit as she stepped inside and began to have a look around. 
the girl slowly made her way through the living room, running her hand along the soft backing of the couch, glancing over the various cook books stacked upon the coffee table. carmy watched her from behind as she sauntered into the kitchen, averting his eyes after tracing up the span of her bare leg, disappointed when his gaze met fabric. 
stop being such a fuckin’ perv, he internally scolded himself. he took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his front pockets, continuing to walk forward, eyes burning a hole into the cabinets of the kitchen. anywhere but on her. 
the girl placed her hands on the granite countertops, leaning over to examine even more cookbooks, these ones with sticky notes decorating the pages. the sweet, light smell of perfume prompted carmen to look forward, realizing he had gotten closer to the girl than he meant to. she sensed his presence and turned around, letting out a small gasp at the close proximity. her eyes darted up and locked with his. 
carmen felt the eye contact send a shockwave through his body as he unintentionally towered over her. 
her eyes fell to his lips momentarily and he felt his jaw clench as he watched her part her mouth and let out a soft breath. the girl ripped her eyes away from his lips, begrudgingly bringing them back up to meet his. 
“can you take me to the bedroom?” she asked him. carmy blinked, heart pounding in his chest, not sure if he heard her right. 
“wh- what?” he choked out. her eyebrows slightly creased, head tilting. 
“the room where i’d stay? can i see it?” 
his eyes shut tightly, then snapped back open. hand coming up to run through his hair. 
jesus, get a grip, man. obviously she wasn’t asking you to take her to the bedroom so you could fu-
“yeah-”’ he sighed, “yeah, of course.” carmy spun on his heel, leading her back through the living room and up the stairs. 
“it’s a beautiful place,” she complimented, “a lot nicer than where i’m at right now.” 
the top floor looked over the living room, branching off into a hallway with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. 
“yeah, uh, to be honest, it’s a lot… fancier than what i’m usually used to.” carmy led her past his room into the vacant space, empty except for a king sized mattress. 
“the, uh, mattress is yours if you want it. if you already have one, i’ll get it out of here.” he turned to glance at the girl, who had wide eyes, “won it in a stupid…sweepstakes thing my cousin signed me up for.” 
he doesn’t mention that richie had signed him up to make fun of him, telling carmen that a new mattress might help him get laid since nothing else seemed to work.
her gaze met his and a big smile grew on her face. she walked to the edge of the bed, then turned to lay on it, sprawling her arms out. 
“wow,” she exhaled, “you live the life of luxury over here carmy,” a big smile still on her face as she stretches out. he ignores the way her skirt creates a perfect triangular gap between her thighs, revealing a glimpse of white lacy fabric.
okay, maybe he doesn’t ignore it. 
“so?” she asks. he rips his gaze upwards, finding her sitting up on the bed, eyes meeting his, “is it a good fit?” she had a small smirk on her face, crossing one leg over the other, slightly leaning back. 
he liked the way she gazed up at him, chin tilting up towards him to expose more of her neck. his eyes raked down the flesh of her neck, wondering what it would be like to sink his teeth into it. to make her yelp. to mark her. 
“yeah,” he softly responds, feeling his mouth dry, eyes scanning over her face, “i, uh, i think we can make it fit.”
carmy watches as her eyelids flutter slightly at this, chest expanding with a deep inhale. he could’ve sworn she pressed her thighs together, lip coming to catch between her teeth. 
“okay,” she breathed, the two of them almost in a trance as they stared at each other. he was the first to break the eye contact, clearing his throat and taking a few steps away from the bed. 
“you’re, um… free to move in whenever you’d like,” he tells her, fixing his eyes on the wall as he warms under the unmistakable feeling of her gaze. 
she’s here to find a place to live, he tells himself, not get eyefucked by some stranger. 
regardless, he feels her continue to watch him. he hears her boots click against the flooring as she stands from her position on the bed, walking over to the glass door leading to a shared balcony. outside, the door that connected to his room was just a few feet down from hers. 
he follows her as she walks out, watching her place her hands on the railing and take a deep breath. it was fresh out, the nostalgic smell of a crisp autumn morning. 
“it’s a beautiful area,” she quietly observes, noting the proximity of a park. the dense line of trees provided a bit of privacy for the balcony, but the bustle of passerbys were still visible down below. he hummed in agreement, watching as the balmy breeze tousled her hair. she had a serene look on her face, but she seemed far away. 
“you’re, uh, from the west coast?” he asked, trying to strike up a form of conversation. the glaze over her eyes remained as she followed the sight of a woman pushing a baby stroller through the park. 
“yeah,” she breathed out, “san diego. moved here for a work but my, uh….my mom isn’t doing so well. so i’m going back before christmas.” 
carmen notices the twitch of her lip, gaze still fixed on the woman pushing the stroller. 
“i’m, uh, i’m sorry to hear that,” he responds softly. her gaze breaks away as the woman disappears into the tree line. she meets his eyes and gives him a small smile
“don’t be. we have a…complicated relationship,” she let out a small laugh, nervously looking to the side. 
“yeah, i, uh… i know how that goes,” he admits, “trust me.” 
her smile warmed at this, eyes coming back to scan his face. 
“i hope it’s okay that i’d be here so short term,” she offers. he nods his head. 
“i really just need someone for the first couple months. until i decide whether i want to end my lease or, uh, cough up the extra money,” he reassures with a small smile. 
“well, in that case, i look forward to rooming with you, carmy,” she gleams, pushing herself away from the railing and turning to face the door. he opens it for her, watching as she walks back into the room and takes in the stark emptiness. 
“can i bring some stuff by today?” she asks sweetly, “decorate a little?” 
he nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling out her copy of the key, handing it to her. 
“you live here now, so go crazy,” smiling at the squeal of excitement she let out. unexpectedly, the girl rushed forward and wrapped her arms around carmen. he was a bit stunned, but reciprocated, letting his arms engulf her, a hand resting on her lower back. 
“thank you, thank you, thank you!” she beamed, leaning into him. 
“don’t mention it. really” a smile graced his face, the smell of her hair sweet. he would’ve kept hugging her for a while if it was up to him. 
she pulled away, touching his forearm as she did so. 
“i promise i won’t go too crazy. i noticed you have the place pretty….minamalist.”
he let out a small laugh at this. 
“yeah, i’m…not much of a decorator,” he confessed, “my apartments have always been pretty boring.” 
“sounds like you need a woman’s touch?” she asked, giving him an innocent smile. his brain stuttered for a minute, eyes flickering down her face to her lips. he really did need a woman’s touch. but that’s obviously not what she meant.
“yeah,” he cleared his throat “yeah, definitely.” 
she let out a small giggle, “okay. i’ll be back in a few hours.”  
-
as the door slammed behind her, the girl released an exacerbated breath, running her hands through a mess of hair. she made her way through the complex, pressing the elevator button. 
her cheeks felt hot—her whole body felt hot, actually. what the fuck did she get herself into? to make a commitment to a roommate was one thing, to make a commitment to one that was so offensively hot was just stupid. 
he had caught her completely off guard, too. she had only heard carmen as a woman’s name, so the phone call came as a bit of a shock, the meeting an even bigger one. 
she knew she would have to stay away from him, roommate are strictly off limits. 
do not make a move, do not make a move, do not make a move!
it would make everything so complicated, and all she really needed was a place to stay for a few months. but these words she repeated like a mantra did nothing to take away from the fact that she wanted him, bad. from the second he opened the door and she stared into his strikingly blue eyes. from when she raked her eyes down his body, taking in the way his pecs strained against his shirt, tattoos decorating his muscular, capable arms. she was so warm when he wrapped himself around her, hands settling on her lower back…she just wished they had gone lower, touched her more. 
he smelled so fucking good, too, when they had hugged. the smell of his deodorant made her a little dizzy, and gave her a dull ache between her legs. 
the ding of the elevator made her jump, disrupting her thoughts as she stepped through the open doors.
why did she flirt with him so much? she prayed he didn’t think she was a desperate weirdo—it had just been so long since she had been satisfied in that way. and as she sat on the bed, and he stood looking down at her hungrily as if he wanted to dominate her, she quickly decided that she would’ve let him. 
the heat of her skin did not relent, so she began gathering her hair atop her head, molding it into a bun and securing it with a hair tie. 
she had a few hours to take a cold shower, get it together, and call the movers to load up her boxes.
it would be fine, she told herself. everything would work out as long as she didn’t make a move. and carmen seemed gentlemanly enough to reciprocate, minus the few glances she saw him sneak of her. 
she promised herself to not act on the urges. and to her credit, she didn’t. for a while, at least. 
it wasn’t until tonight, about four weeks after moving in, that things started to get complicated. 
it was easy, at first, to resist the flirting and the tension—mostly because carmen was never home.
he left before she woke up and only returned back after she had gone to sleep. that was the cost of being a michelin star chef though, which she had found out not from him, but from a curious google search about his restaurant. 
she decided to confront him about this, curious why he was so humble about such a title. he responded along the lines of a nonchalant, “i didn’t think it mattered.” 
he was a tough person to gauge—always seeming so lost within his own head. the girl felt as if she couldn’t get a good read on him, which was an unusual feeling for her. 
there were moments, however, when it seemed as if she would break down a wall, illuminating herself in a stream of light from within him.
one of those moments was tonight, coming home from dinner with coworkers. she usually would just opt to go straight home after working overtime, but her boss insisted on a get-together to celebrate the end of their project. having to socialize with coworkers after hours was entirely draining, and she was more than ready to be home. 
it was cold and dark, after 10 o’ clock—not that she took notice. the streets shone with the rain of a passed storm, reflecting the light of the street lamps in a blurry haze.
the girl took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the muggy post-rain sweetness of the october air. the walk allowed her to clear her mind a bit, taking notice of the perpetual heat that burned within her. 
god, she needed to blow off some steam. her hand came to thread through her hair, mind flashing to carmen. 
it had been so long since she was with a man—almost forgetting how it felt entirely. how it felt to be kissed, to be touched…how it felt to be full. she let out a small breath at this thought. she wondered if he was well endowed, or on the smaller side? if he was shaved or natural? if he had a curvature to him? circumcised or uncir-
“jesus christ,” she exhales, “i need to get a grip,” the reminder out loud seemed to cut her thoughts short, at least for the most part, as she approaches their building.
she makes her way inside and navigates up to their floor, unlocking the door to their unit, eyebrows furrowing as she took notice of the multiple lights on. she supposes that she had forgotten to turn them off, mentally chastising herself before locking the door behind her and setting her bag and keys down. 
it felt good to be home, stripping off her blazer and making her way to the kitchen. 
she opens the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it with ice. then she pulls a cold ginger beer and lime out of the fridge to make herself a drink. the vodka came a little heavy handed, only partially on accident. 
she takes a long sip before making her way over to and up the stairs. she follows the dark hallway to her room, where she puts on some music and cracks the window to let the rainy breeze pour in. 
the girl hums along gently to the music as she stands in front of her mirror and begins to strip her clothes off. she admires her physique as the alcohol begins to quickly initiate a pleasant buzz. 
the girl leaves her bra and underwear on, admiring the delicate lace that adorned the curvature of her body. her eyes fall onto the candles on her dresser, deciding that a hot bubble bath would help melt the day away. so she takes another sip and walks to the bathroom, continuing to hum the song that reverberates through the speaker. she sways her hips to the music as she walks, even adding a little twirl to help lighten her mood. 
as she goes to grab the bathroom’s knob to twist, it begins to turn on its own, the sudden realization making her heart drop to her stomach all too late. 
the door swings open and the girl finds herself face to face with a shirtless carmen, hair wet and skin dewy with water droplets.
she stumbles back slightly and his strong hands grab the sides of her arms. out of instinct she places her free hand on his chest, the drink she holds splashes a few drops out onto her hand. she steadies herself, cheeks flushing. 
“fuck, carm, i- i’m sorry, i didn’t know you were…” she trails off with a deep breath, her eyes darting down his chiseled chest, to his abdomen, to the deep cut v of his pelvis, down to the tuft of dark hair peaking out from beneath the edge of the towel. 
well, that answered one of her questions.
the girl tears her eyes away from the arousing sight, bringing them up to meet his own. she watches as his own eyes drag down her scantily clad form, hearing him deeply exhale before bringing his eyes back up to meet hers. 
his blue gaze had a dark glint as he intensely stared down at her, his lips slightly parted, brows furrowed, as if he couldn’t fully rationalize the predicament they were in. 
she could smell the fresh scent of his body wash, the sharp cleanness of his deodorant. it makes her lean closer unintentionally, eyes droop slightly and lips part as she feels her body heat up. 
he was incredibly firm underneath her fingertips, sturdy and strong, and still a bit damp from his shower. she would’ve kept touching him too, but his hands fall from her arms, taking a small step back, snapping his eyes shut tightly and rubbing his forehead with his hand. 
“shit, i-uh, i’m sorry,” he forces out in a strangled voice, eyes glancing towards the ceiling as if to avoid the temptation that stood in front of him. 
“n-no, my fault, really. i-… i didn’t realize you were home yet,” she forces out, feeling the flush of embarrassment from her cheeks, crossing her arms over her chest to provide some modesty. she leans against the door frame.
“i was gonna take a hot bath. rough day,” she elaborates as a bit of an afterthought. he deeply inhales and his eyes trail back down to her before noticing the glass she was holding. 
“yeah?” he asks, “what are y’drinking?” he nudges his head forward, gesturing to the cup.
her eyes dart down to the glass, droplets of condensation cool against her fingers. 
“um… moscow mule,” she confesses softly, small smile creeping onto her lips, “wanna try?” she offers. 
he gives her a grin, reaching out for the drink. she tries to ignore how his fingers brush over her own. 
carmen brings the glass to his lips and takes a decently long sip, eyebrows furrowing as the bitterness graces his tongue, swallowing harshly. 
“shit, that’s strong,” smile on his face as he coughs lightly. she bursts out into giggles, throwing her head back. 
“it was on accident,” she fibs. 
he raises his eyebrow at this, which makes her laugh harder. he feels himself grin at the sight, not sure he’s ever seen her smile so big. it’s pretty, he thinks. really fuckin’ pretty. 
“it’s good, though,” he praises, handing it back. 
“want one?” she questions, leaning forward a bit, glass coming back up to press to her lips. carmy fixates on the sight for a moment, on her supple and sweet looking lips, before lightly clearing his throat. 
“yeah, i’d, uh… i’d love one.”
the girl flashes him another sweet smile, turning on her heel and walking out of the bathroom. 
“i’ll meet you downstairs then,” she chimes. as she leaves, carmen slides his eyes down her form, admiring her toned back and tracing down the alluring indentation of her spine. his gaze very quickly falls to her ass, clad in a cheeky cut of lace, watching as it slightly bounces in tandem with her steps. his breath catches, feeling himself harden beneath his towel, face heating as a throbbing sensation begins to come on.
he begins to follow her, finding himself so distracted by the sight that he almost follows her all the way into her bedroom, only snapping out of it when he sees her start to unclip her bra. 
he abruptly stops and turns to walk to his own room, taking a few deep, slow breaths once he gets. there. his hands come to rest on his hips, gazing down at the tented cloth of the towel before walking to his dresser to grab a large black t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. as he slides into them, he checks in the mirror to make sure the shirt hung over his hips to cover his very apparent arousal. 
he makes his way downstairs, hearing soft music play from the kitchen. a song with guitar. pretty, but sounded kind of sad. 
his roommate stands at the kitchen island, garnishing his finished drink with a few mint leaves. she wears a silky bathrobe, her hair clipped up messily. she smiles up at him as he came to the counter, ice clinking against the cold copper mug as she hands it to him. 
“you didn’t make yours in copper?” he asks after giving a soft thanks.
“i’m not an award winning chef,” she rebuts, “i wanted to make sure it was up to your standards,” a slight smile on her lips as she teases him. 
he grins, giving a small roll of his eyes before bringing the drink up for a sip. his eyes widen. 
“shit. this- this is good,” he compliments sincerely, taking another drink. 
“thank you, chef,” she beams. he gives her a smile and a nod, trying to ignore how much he enjoyed hearing the name come from her. 
“by the way,” she continues, “you act very humble, but i think it's really impressive for you to own a restaurant so young.” 
he sets his cup down on the granite. her compliment makes his ears feel warm. 
“it’s, uh…. thank you. we’re still trying to find our rhythm, y’know? but it’s coming together. slowly,” he underplays. the girl nods, taking another sip of her drink. 
“did you always know you wanted to be a chef?” she inquires, leaning over the countertop onto her forearms. carmen had trouble processing her question, too distracted by the view provided from the low-hanging fabric of her loosely tied robe. 
she notices his eyes wander and her skin heats under his gaze. she pushes her chest out slightly, having little clue why she was entertaining this crush of hers.
“sorry, what?” his reply comes a bit delayed. she gives a soft giggle.
“did you always want to be a chef? or did someone inspire you?” she notices the way his face drops ever so slightly. 
“i, uh… i’ve wanted to be a chef for a long time. and uh, i think my brother probably had a big part in inspiring me,” he pauses, and she nods. 
“that’s sweet,” a smile on her face, “only the truly inspired go on to own a restaurant.”
“yeah, he uh…he actually left his restaurant to me. used to be a sandwich shop. my dad owned it, then…left it to mikey.” his eyes drift to the skin of her neck, landing on a dainty necklace. 
“are you two close?” she asks, heat from her hands causing the ice of her drink to melt and shift, clinking against the glass. 
he pauses again, unsure of how to approach this, his glazed eyes giving him away a bit. she breaks the silence. 
“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to pry-”
“-no, no, it’s…it’s fine,” he interjects, “mikey actually…he died two years ago. he, uh… he killed himself.” his tone softened.  
carmy wasn’t sure why he was opening up so much, revealing far more than he usually did when people asked questions about mikey. when he met her eyes again, she had a sorrowful look on her face. 
“fuck, carm, that’s-… i’m so sorry for your loss,” she tells him with genuinity. 
“it, uh….” he goes to brush it off like he usually does, but he can’t bring himself to do it as he looks into her eyes. he swallows. 
“thank you.” he says sincerely, giving a small nod. his throat begins to burn, and he looks away. 
he had to break the news to plenty of people before this, so he wasn’t sure why this time felt so different. but it did. 
“he’d be really proud of you, you know,” she tells him after a moment, “you’re doing a good fuckin’ job.” 
carmen meets her eyes again when she says this, and just stares at her for a moment. his chest flutters at the praise, and his slow manual breaths do nothing to stop the heavy pounding of his heart. 
“i, uh,” he rasps, swallowing before continuing, “thank you. i appreciate it,” he says, “really.” 
the girl gives him a sweet smile and nods before coming to stand up straight. she sinches the string of her robe around her waist. 
“i think i’m gonna go take my bath now.”
“enjoy,” he tells her, small smile on his face. she moves around the edge of the counter, sweetly running her hand over his arm as she walks away. 
carmen knows this is just a friendly gesture, yet he still feels goosebumps rise on his skin following her touch. he hears her humming softly as she walks up the stairs.
-
there was nothing that a hot bath wouldn’t fix. especially coupled with some extensive self care, it would prove to be a form of therapy to the girl time and time again. she feels entirely satisfied, except for the fact that the final product that would seal the night in has gone missing. 
on the walk to her room, she glances at carmen’s wide open door. his light was off, but she could hear quiet music coming from the room. 
she approached, softly knocking on the door frame.
“hey carm, have you seen a little black container anywhere? it’s my lip mask” she leans against the opening, and takes a minute to admire the way he reclines on the bed, arms behind his head, black shirt laying on the floor.
he turns his head, taking in the image of her glowy skin, gracefully illuminated by the light of the hallway, loosely covered by the same silky, short bathrobe. 
“yeah, i uh, think i saw it in the downstairs bathroom,” he offers. 
she takes a small step into the room, turning her head to the small TV on his dresser. she watches for a minute before gasping. 
“no way,” she lets out a small laugh, “this used to be one of my favorite movies growing up.”
“for real?” he smiles. 
“hell yeah. you have good taste carmy.”
he scans his eyes over her form as she watches the screen. 
“yeah, i guess i do.”
she brings her gaze back to meet his, tilting her head. carmen felt emboldened by the double-shot drink she fixed him, keeping his eyes locked with hers. 
“wanna watch with me?” he invites. 
she smiles, pausing for a moment, bringing her finger to her lips as if she was deliberating. he finds this endearing, and enthusiastically watches as she saunters to his bed and crawls on. 
carmy sits up onto his forearms, head resting back against the headboard, shifting to make room for her to scoot in next to him. and she does, sitting upright with her knees to her chest, closer than he thought she would’ve, side of her thigh resting against his arm. she smells incredible, and carmen feels an overwhelming, almost primal magnetism towards the girl.
his eyes are fixated on the screen, but he doesn’t register the movie at all. all he can focus on is the smell of her and the warmth of her body pressed against his. 
about 30 minutes into their shared viewing, the girl releases a big yawn, shuffling down to rest her head on the stacked pillows, continuing to watch the movie but feeling her eyes grow heavier by the minute. carmen’s bed was comfy, and she could help but fall into a light slumber.
he doesn’t even notice until he softly laughs at one of the scenes, and she stays silent, soundly dozing. in that moment he’s graced with the rare opportunity to lovingly study her face. his eyes trail over her eyebrows, her cheeks, rosy from her bath, some soft freckles scattered about. he studies the slope of her nose and plush of her lips, then folds his arms behind his head and goes back to watching the movie, his own eyes feeling a bit heavy. 
carmen feels the girl shift, assuming she was waking up. instead, she slings an arm over him, face nuzzling into his chest. when he surprisedly turns to face her, he finds her eyes still shut. every bit of focus he had accumulated prior vanished, now only being able to feel the hammering in his chest, the warmth of her body against his—the way her hand splays across his bare skin. 
he just focuses on his breathing. 
not much more time had passed before she snuggles even closer, hoisting a leg up over him. he stays completely still as to not disturb her sleep, even though his arms pinned behind his head were beginning to feel like static.
the man silently marvels at how well she fit against him, slowly shutting his eyes as he feels her nuzzle her face further into him. 
carmy begins to doze off, noise from the movie droning in the background, darkness of the room enveloping the two. 
they stay that way for another hour, peace only broken at the shrill of carmen’s ringtone that pierces through the silence. 
he feels her startle, grabbing on to him a bit tighter. his arm instinctively comes to wrap around her, hand resting on her back as he reaches over to grab his phone on the nightstand. he mentally curses the unknown caller as he declines the call, noting by his phone clock how late it had gotten. 
he hears the girl let out a groan, still draped over him, readjusting her head to lay on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck. 
he kept silent and didn’t move. 
“m’sorry,” she mumbles, realizing their predicament, “you should’ve pushed me off of you,” her voice drowsy. 
“i fell asleep too,” he justifies, “got too comfortable.”
she lets out a hum of agreement.
“yeah,” scooting closer so that her face almost presses into his neck, “you are really comfortable.” 
its difficult for carmen to keep his composure, jaw tightening as she moves closer. he feels her smooth her hand over his bare chest and splay it over his sternum. he had no idea what was happening, but he knows he’s never wanted anything more than for her to keep touching him. 
“your heart is beating so fast,” she softly observes, drowsily shutting her eyes again. 
he clears his throat. 
“the phone scared me,” a fib.
he feels her smile against his neck, and they stay laying like that in silence for another few minutes. carmen slowly regains control over his breathing, repeating to himself do not get turned on, shutting his eyes tightly. 
after a moment, he feels her soft lips creep against his neck, and then she presses a small kiss into the skin. it feels as if a spark shoots down his spine, tingling throughout his body. 
the man quickly rationalizes the situation, thinking she must have done it on accident. then she does it again, this time higher up his neck and closer to his ear. it was a longer kiss, distinct, and then he feels the warmth of her breath again. 
carmen shifts, craning his neck downwards to look at her. she meets his eyes, and he sees the mischievous glint he was so endeared with from when they met. 
his arm is still around the girl, her hand still caressing his chest. she moves it down slowly, fingertips smoothing along his skin to touch his abdomen. she doesn’t say anything, just keeps touching him, feeling the firmness of his body.
her pointer finger traces lower, dragging over the deep cut of his v-line, stopping when she hits the waistband of his sweatpants. he audibly exhales at this. 
she can see the wanting in his eyes from the dim light of the hallway, 
she knows she should stop herself. but between the smell of his skin and the tingling within her core, she felt as if she physically couldn’t stop. she was coming onto the one man she told herself she couldn’t have, yet her body felt so hot. and he was so….
the girl moves closer to him, their faces mere inches apart. 
the pair are completely silent as carmen examines her face, watching as she bites her lip. without trying to stop himself, he reaches up, thumb coming to pull her lip from between her teeth. he runs the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, pushing it to the side a bit, pulling it down a bit, testing how soft and pliant she was beneath him. 
she exhales, and her fingers slide ever so slightly under the waistline of his sweats. she can feel curls of his pubic hair, giving her a hot, pulsing sensation within her core. the small bathrobe seems to suddenly feel constricting.
carmen sharply exhales through his nose as he feels her fingers creep beneath. he slides his hand over her cheek to grip her face tightly as a warning. the girl meets his eyes, noticing how dark they had become. she can’t help her gaze falling down to his plush lips, staring at them for longer than she should before looking back up to him with heavy eyelids. 
if carmen had more sense, he would pull away and turn on the light. maybe ask her to go back to her own room. but he didn’t, so instead he leans in, just far enough so his lips lightly ghosted over hers—just far enough to let her decide. he was trying to control himself. if it were up to him in that moment, he would grab her, tear off the skimpy bathrobe, and take her for himself. 
but he wanted to be more of a gentleman than that. 
she lets out a soft gasp at the proximity, able to feel the heat from his face.
he’s so close, she thinks, smells so good. 
she throws caution to the wind and decides she wants this. 
badly. 
the girl leans in and presses a slow, soft kiss to his lips. this ignites something in her, and even though she told herself to pull away after the first kiss and refrain from letting this go too far, she gets a taste of him and immediately craves more. 
carmen enthusiastically reciprocates the kiss, hand gripping her face tighter and pulling her closer. they stay gentle at first, slow. but then she whimpers into his mouth at the sensation and it spurs him on, finding himself entirely too worked up from just kissing. 
the kisses became a bit firmer, hungrier, messier, and carmy slips his tongue into her mouth. the room feels too hot all of the sudden, ferocity of the kiss growing—their teeth bump. 
he pulls away from the kiss, lips still ghosting hers. 
“we should, uh” he rasps, interrupted by the girls continued eager kisses, “we should stop.” 
she pauses and nods. 
“yeah,” biting at her lip, “yeah, you’re right.” 
carmen contradicts himself and captures her lips again, telling himself that it’s to cherish the feeling before stopping. the girl moans into the kiss, and he deepens it again. 
so much for stopping. 
her hand slips further into his sweatpants, and she wraps her fingers around his erection. he releases a low, throaty groan, and slides his hand down to grasp the side of her neck, thumb across her throat. 
she leans into his touch, beginning to gently stroke the length of him, fingers loosely grasping. 
he was thick from what she could feel, and long enough to make the motion feel cramped within the confines of his sweatpants. 
their kisses increase in ferocity and she grips him tighter. he softly bites her lip, and she lets out a hum. 
“fucking touch me already, carm,” her demand comes breathily, body growing increasingly hot. 
“yeah?” another kiss. she squeezes her fingers around him. 
“mmhm,” she breathes, growing impatient. his hand shifts to wrap around the front of her throat, fingers lightly pressing into her.
“ask nicer,” he demands, voice low. 
she feels a hitch in her breathing, surprised by the tingle his words sent through her. 
never before having to ask twice, she lets out a frustrated groan and takes her hand out of his pants. she pulls the front of her loose robe open, exposing her bare chest. 
“fuck,” he groans, eyes graciously raking down her form, able to make out the curve of her breasts in the low light of the room. 
“touch. me.” she whines, too proud to beg for him. 
his hand falls from her neck, fingertips teasing down her sternum. she lets out a breath of relief too soon—feeling him lightly ghost over her perked nipple and trace down her ribs. 
“carm,” she complains. he ignores her, coming to kiss her neck instead. her scent was intoxicating, and he feels himself physically strain to keep from giving her what she wanted, finding similar pleasure in the knowledge that she was growing increasingly desperate for him. 
his hand continues its trail downwards, pushing her bathrobe the rest of the way open. he slides his fingers down her stomach slowly, cherishing the softness of her skin, sliding to grasp her hip, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her pelvis. the minute he saw her he swore to himself he would take his time with her, and that he did. 
she lets out a huff and grabs his hand, trying to pull him towards where she wants him. he only tightens his grip on her hipbone. 
“hey,” he scolds sternly into her neck, biting her softly, “be fuckin’ good.”
she gasps at his bite, arching her back for more. 
“then give me what i want,” she pleads, hand gripping onto his arm. she feels him gently smile into her skin. 
“yeah?” he keeps kissing her neck, “what do you want, pretty girl?”
she feels a tingling at the name, fingers dragging up his arm, gripping onto the muscle of his bicep. 
“i want you to fuc-” the same shrill ringtone blares into the silence, simultaneously vibrating the nightstand. the two jump, the girl pulling her hand away from carmy as if he were hot. his fingers grip her hard enough to bruise, before pulling away and coming to rub over his forehead, jaw tightly clenched.  
as the girl recovers herself with her bathrobe, he angrily grabs his phone and answers. 
“what?” he barks into the line. she sits up and smooths her fingers through her hair, dangling her legs over the bed. 
maybe it was a sign that they were interrupted, she thinks, suddenly bashful about the entire situation, heat of her skin relentlessly burning. 
“fuck,” he curses into the phone, “how bad is it?” eyes glancing over to the girl sitting on his bed, rubbing a hand over his face. 
“alright. yeah, i’ll be there in 20,” he begrudgingly says before hanging up the phone. she looks at him questioningly. 
“there was, uh, a fuckin’ leak in one of the pipes. part of the kitchen is flooding.”
“yeah,” she nods, effectively hiding her disappointment, “you should definitely go take care of that,” standing up and turning to walk out. 
he calls her name and she stops, turning back expectantly. 
“we’ll, uh,” he meets her eyes, “we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” 
she puts a small smile on her lips and nods, before turning again and walking to her own room. her heart was still relentlessly beating against her ribcage—skin still hot, still wound so tightly. 
it was a stupid idea to entertain, and she’s glad it didn’t happen. 
at least she repeats that to herself over and over again hoping it’ll start to feel true. 
carmen lets out a labored exhale, gaze falling down to the throbbing tent in his pants, feeling more wound up now than he ever had. 
he regrets not touching her as soon as he had the opportunity, instead trying to tease her. he just really enjoyed how she got so flustered, impatient—certain that the girl had never experienced having to beg for anything before. 
he wanted more. he knew he shouldn’t, but he really did. 
she was so soft beneath him, and pretty, and desperate. he didn’t expect her to have such an attitude, though, finding himself completely roused from the bite of her interaction. 
carmen turns on the lamp, flooding the room with light and squinting his eyes. he stands up to get dressed, ready to go attend to the early morning disaster in the kitchen. 
as he passes her by room he swears he can hear her softly moaning. 
-
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chilling-seavey · 2 months
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Silence of the Mountains (gr63)
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↳ A/N After watching Zhou's motorhome tour over the Austrian GP weekend, I ended up having a dream Saturday night...this is the written version of that dream. And, hey, it must have been a premonition because look who won the next day ;)
↳ Summary: George decides to rent a motorhome for the Austrian Grand Prix weekend like some of the other drivers do; he's sure it'll make everything so much more convenient. Sharing the space with his trainer might be beneficial for work but certainly not when it comes to taming your insatiable appetite.
↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 4.2k
↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, risky locations, forced silence (smothering sounds with hands, pillows, sheets), little bit of grinding, whispered dirty talk, slight degradation, George goes from 🤭 to 😈 in like a flip of a switch, unprotected sex (& creampie because is it really something I've written if that's not included?)
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The gentle hush of rain through the quiet night was a calming contrast to the thunderous sound of race car engines that had once filled the Austrian countryside. In the secluded section of the lush green forests, carved by breathtaking mountains and rolling hills, a half dozen million-dollar motorhomes rested in an organized cluster. There was an almost eerie darkness that surrounded the camp with nothing around but nature and twinkling stars hidden behind hazy rain clouds. 
The light drops fell in a soft pitter patter against the roof of the motorhome, creating a lulling atmosphere for a well deserved sleep before the impending race the next day. Within the protection that the luxury mobile home offered from the elements, the rhythm of the rain was countered by the soft sounds of timid kisses and breathy giggles that were muffled by the gentle rustle of sheets.
“We should sleep.” George’s whispered voice reached your ears under the sea of luxury linen. His hand rested on your waist, sliding around to the dip of your spine and back again.
Directly beside him, face to face, you had an arm tucked under his neck and the other strewn around his shoulders, holding him as close against you as you could physically manage. Your fingers clutched onto the fabric of his shirt as if worried he was going to move away and, once he spoke those words, your grip tightened a little more. 
“I don’t want to.” you replied in a hushed whisper.
Your lips met again in a few more passive kisses. 
“I want to keep kissing you.” you added dreamily, eyelids lovingly closed.
You could hear him smile through the darkened room, his adoration for you as clear as day in his tone, “Me too, love, but I need some rest for tomorrow.” 
The taste of his lips was addicting as you nuzzled your face a little closer to steal more chasté kisses from him. George would never complain. 
You laid there together in the king size bed in the motorhome you complained heartily about staying in that weekend (“You’re partnered with two hotels, I’m sure we can connect with one, rather than suffer in this glorified tin can on wheels”), limbs tangled under soft sheets, breaths falling in calm unison. When your eyes were closed, the place could almost pass as a hotel. 
The two of you were cuddled so close that it was physically impossible for there to be any space between you. You shared the mattress, the blankets, a pillow. Hands caressed clothed skin under the down-filled duvet, holding and coddling loving bodies, such a tangle you weren’t quite sure where you ended and he began. Chest to chest, you could feel your heartbeats thudding in slow, steady time; the shape of his pecs through his t-shirt pushing faintly against the curve of your breasts under yours like you were one entity. 
George’s breaths fell softly against your cheek and yours returned the favour, faces millimetres apart. So close that you barely had to pucker your lips and you would be kissing him. It was easy and convenient and you had been laying there together like that for who knew how long, making the most of the moment. Familiar hands, comforting breaths, lazy kisses.
It always felt so surreal like this; warm, dreamlike, ethereal. You wanted more of him, all of him, always. 
You pulled your hand out from under the blankets to slide around the back of his neck and into the roots of his soft hair, holding him firmly in place as you kissed his lips; the bottom one, then the top one, then both, both again, and again, and again-
“Sweetheart,” George murmured with a smile, his voice low and warm like melted caramel, “that’s enough.”
“No, it’s not.” you countered urgently, whispered words wavering through the darkened room before you pressed your lips together again. 
George let out a little ‘mmph’ against your lips at your insistence but he was never one to decline you. He always kissed you back.
Your leg slid up his until you could slide it around his waist, naturally urging his thigh between yours. He shifted in your arms a little, lips still locked in a lingering kiss, his large hand trailing over the curve of your ass and down to your thigh as if to keep you wrapped around him. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours and your hips naturally nudged against the muscle of his leg that was pressed between yours. 
Just as you let out a tiny whimper at the friction, George pulled away from your kiss. He rested his forehead against yours, sighing out, “Okay, that’s enough, love.”
“No, it’s not.” you protested, leaning in for more kisses from his swollen lips before adding, “I want more of you.”
He smiled against your lips, letting out a breathy laugh as he pulled away, “We can’t.”
But you just kept kissing him, kiss after kiss after kiss.
George chuckled softly with his hand rubbing up and down your thigh, reiterating when you paused to breathe, “We can’t, love.”
“Mm,” you whined softly, shifting in his arms to kiss his chin and then his throat, nibbling at his neck as your hips rolled naturally against his bare thigh again.
George’s breath shuddered slightly and his hand gave your bum a small pat, reminding you in a whisper, “Aleix is only a room away…and these walls are so thin…”
“Should have gotten a hotel room like I said.” you mumbled between soft kisses along the expanse of his neck.
George groaned softly and his head tilted back a little to give you room, his hand tightening around your waist as if he were torn between drawing you closer or pushing you away. He had figured renting a motorhome for the European races like most of the other drivers did would have been much more convenient; it would be closer to the circuit, there was hired security, his trainer would be right there should he need anything. But, despite all this, the convenience of using the second bedroom in the motorhome to sleep his trainer suddenly felt anything but ideal. 
He seriously needed to listen to you more often. 
“Baby,” George huffed out, his breathy words drowned out by a gust of wind that had the rain pelting down on the roof a little harder.
Your fingers pulled at his shirt, head lifting to chase his lips again. You knew you were being needy but you also knew how weak it got him when you were. So much so that he didn’t so much as offer an argument and, instead, tilted his face back down to lean in just as eagerly and lock your lips with his in a passionate, hungry kiss. 
The sounds of your kisses danced with the sounds of the rain all around you, growing needier and sloppier as George faced his losing battle. His hand came up to cradle your cheek, pulling away from your kiss to rest his forehead against yours for a moment to breathe. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist. 
“Do you promise to be quiet?”
His voice had lowered, coming out as a thrilling rumble from his chest that proved to you that you had him right where you wanted him. 
“Yes, sir.” you purred, scratching your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 
His nose brushed against yours as his lips sought out yours in the darkened room for one more kiss, or two, or three, before he was untangling your leg from around his waist with a husky, “Turn over for me.”
You shuffled yourself around under the sheets to face away from him with a giddy smile, right away wiggling back against him until your bodies moulded together like who halves of a whole. It was apparent just how into it he was with the feeling of the stiff tent in his underwear pressing right up against your ass; his hesitant words had been abandoned by his body. George groaned lightly against your shoulder, leaving a kiss to the same spot while his arm dropped between you to arrange himself. 
Your hand followed too, reaching behind you to rub your palm over his erection, palming him strongly through the thin fabric of his boxers. 
George’s arm tightened around your waist, locking you close to him as you touched him and he groaned against your cheek, words thick, “You’re a bloody tease, you know that, eh?”
“How am I the tease when you’re the one trying to deny me what I want?” you muttered back, already feeling hazy with lust while your hand slipped under the waistband of his boxers to touch him properly. “So many excuses.”
“Mm,” his lips brushed against your jaw, his fingers ghosting over your thigh under the sheets until he guided your leg up towards your chest, “did you forget who’s in charge, little one?”
You withered at his words and the feeling of his open mouthed kiss to the spot where your jaw and neck met, only making your mouth fall open as his slender fingers dragged along the thin fabric of your panties nestled between your legs. Your hand wrapped around his hardening dick, giving him a few messy strokes the best you could whilst facing away from him. 
“The only way this is going to work,” George breathed against your ear in a tone that had butterflies filling your stomach, his fingers pulling the fabric of your panties to the side so he could blindly caress your pussy under the sheets, “is if you do what I say and stay perfectly quiet. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”
A tiny moan slipped from your lips but you nodded in response, turning your head to the side in need for more of him. He obliged and propped himself up on one arm a little more so he could lean down to kiss you over your shoulder, his fingers still toying with your pussy. You used his kiss as a way to muffle your little content sounds and since you were so gentle with your noises, he didn’t tell you off. Besides, you sounded far too pretty like that to warrant a scolding. 
“That’s my girl.” George purred against the corner of your mouth as your kiss broke, his fingers slicking up in your dripping wetness that pooled between your legs, “My messy, needy girl.”
Your top leg was bent up towards your chest at a ninety-degree angle to your body to keep you nice and spread open for his fingers, making it easy for him to touch you as he pleased. You took your hand from his dick to raise to the side of his face instead, pulling his lips back on yours as he blindly shoved down the front of his underwear under the sheets. 
His other arm was tucked under your neck and wrapped around your front, one hand naturally finding one of your breasts and he gave it a greedy squeeze as he kissed you sloppily over your shoulder. You pushed your ass back into him, sharing small groans into each other’s mouths as the warm shaft of his cock nudged between your cheeks. 
“Fuck, baby,” George panted as he broke away from your lips, his breath hot against your ear, “be a good girl for me and stay nice and quiet, yeah?”
You reached a hand back to pull at the flesh of your ass to try and hold yourself open for him as he got himself situated behind you. He dusted a kiss to your earlobe in silent thanks while his hand between your bodies angles the head of his dick against your cunt. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in anticipation, waiting for it, but then he just slid it forward to smear between your legs and right to your clit. 
George chuckled lowly against your ear as he pulled back a little to do it again, basically just thrusting against you without getting inside you first, forcing you to just feel how hard he was between your legs and unable to do anything about it. Your teeth pressed harder into your bottom lip, holding back a tiny displeased groan as you ached with need for him. 
Before you could protest, he pulled back again and, with the next press forward, he was slipping inside you slowly but surely. Your breath caught in your chest as he stretched you out on his cock, his hand flying to grab your hip as he sunk deeper into you. He let out a wavering moan against your neck that was almost too loud and you turned over your shoulder again to pull his lips back on yours. 
Right away, he started to rock into you at a steady pace in slow curling thrusts, not thinking much of it apart from letting your humanistic drive lead you. George’s fingers pinched your nipple through your t-shirt, earning a whine out of you into his mouth and he took that opportunity to lick across your bottom lip. 
Despite having kissed half the night, they never moved past the point of innocent; tender and closed-mouthed. Now, as the heat rose between you, he was eager to get more out of you. You gladly opened up for him and let his tongue push into your mouth between sensual kisses that matched the pace of his hips pushing into you. It was filthy; the sound of your kisses overpowering the flurry of rain on the roof of the motorhome, wet and hungry and lewd. 
George’s hand moved from your hip to wrap entirely around your middle, giving you a tug back against his chest and thus forcing his cock deeper inside you. You gasped sharply into his mouth, letting out with a muted groan as he ground his hips strongly against you. He held you tightly in both arms for a moment as he pushed deeply into you again and again, both of you just panting into each other’s open mouths. 
After a moment, George’s hand slid across your stomach and under your thigh to lift your leg up a little more, spreading you open under the sheets as he adjusted his position behind you to start to drive a little faster into you. You gaped dumbly into the darkened bedroom at the warm fullness he offered you, giving you every inch of him in firm succession. And he was so hard…you were nearly salivating, mouthing a silent “fuck” to the room. 
“Such a good listener, aren’t you, baby?” George cooed against your ear, “But we’re just getting started. I’m gonna get a little rougher with you and you’re gonna stay so quiet for me, yeah?”
“Please.” you huffed out.
George kept his hand under your thigh to keep your leg up as he started to shove into you a little harder, letting out a faint grunt against your neck in the process.
You couldn’t help the soft squeal that slipped from your lips, your hand splaying across the mattress to grasp onto the fitted sheet to try and ground yourself. George hushed you against your ear, fucking you firmly under the luxury linen sheets with your leg still held up and slightly tenting the duvet. 
“Oh my God.” you squeaked, eyes screwed shut. 
“Shhh.” George lifted his hand from your chest to press against your mouth, taunting hotly against the shell of your ear, “You don’t want Aleix to hear, do you?”
You whimpered against his palm.
“No, we don’t.” he cooed, shoving into you a little harder as if he were trying to make it difficult for you, “Naughty fucking girl, aren’t you? Insatiable little slut.”
You cried out his name against his palm still clamped over your mouth, your fingers grasping his wrist tightly as if wanting to pull him away. George slowed for a second, grinding deeply into you to push another withering moan from your mouth while he arranged himself behind you again, situating into a better position so he could get back to those precise thrusts. 
You couldn’t help the shriek that fell from your mouth and into the palm of his hand, forcing him to pull your head back against his shoulder with a firm hush against your ear. He drove into you in quick succession, ramming right against your g-spot until your eyes were nearly rolling, stumbling out hungry moans against his palm. 
If it wasn’t your uncontrollable sounds that might have given you away, the lewd clap of his skin against yours would certainly do it. George had to slow himself down a little, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh to arrange the two of you a little to find an angle that minimized the sound. Once he was back at it, you were clawing at his hand still clamped over your mouth. 
“Shh, you’re getting loud.” he whispered sternly without faltering his movements for a moment, his breath hot against your neck as the temperature rose under the sheets and duvet. 
You couldn’t help the sounds you let out as he nearly fucked the moans from your chest, so delicious and dizzying. You turned away from his hand to press your face into your pillow instead, smothering yourself into it while your fingers bunched at the sheets. His pace was mouth-wateringly good with his hands all over you; groping your breasts and grabbing your thigh and his soft lips trailed hot, wet kisses up your neck and he nibbled at your earlobe. Your entire body was trembling under his touch, especially as you tried to hold yourself back. 
Your hands tugged at the sheets, trying to pull them towards your face, pressing them against your mouth in fistfulls to try and keep yourself quiet, dampening the expensive white linen in pleasurable tears and drool. Even still, you kept your back arched a little just so George could have perfect access to you and he could give you every last inch unobstructed. 
“Jesus, you’re incredible…” he panted, his voice thick and strained with pleasure of his own, “The way you take my cock…fuck.”
As the warmth rose inside you, reaching every nerve ending in your body, you were torn between wanting it all and having to keep yourself quiet. It was growing increasingly difficult by the second as George’s firm pace drew you closer to an orgasm at an impressive rate. The overwhelm coiled within you, aching for him, barely able to think a coherent thought as the moans and gasps fell from your lips and into the sheets you held clutched in your hands.
Desperately wanting to be quiet so as to not face the embarrassment of facing Aleix tomorrow morning, your body started to try and squirm away from your boyfriend as if pleading for some sort of mercy. Your head turned farther into the pillow beneath you and your shoulders followed as if you were subconsciously trying to turn away from him to keep yourself composed for even a second. 
But George wasn’t to be warned off that easily and even as you pulled your leg from his snug grip on your thigh to stretch it across the mattress as your hips tried to turn away next, he followed right after you. His body covered yours as you rolled yourself flat onto your stomach, arms encircling your pillow that you helplessly drooled onto while he kept giving you such perfect firm thrusts you swore you were seeing stars right through the cloudy nighttime sky. 
“Fuck-” you groaned out into the down filled pillow, elongating the word dreamily. 
“Mhm… that’s it.” George whispered from over top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and folded arms so his lips could brush against your ear. His hips snapped against yours in firm strokes that had both of you wearing the same raw expression of pleasure into the darkened room. 
The sheets were a tangled mess over the two of you, shielding your filthy late night rendezvous from the privacy of your rented bedroom and falling low across George’s lower back as he moved on top of you. The decency of the sheets were the least of his concern at that moment as he kept giving you what you wanted, his body pressed right down on yours, pinning you underneath him. Then, he slipped one hand under your hips and weaseled it down between your legs, blindly getting his fingers on you to start to rub messily at your clit.
“Fuck, George-” you whimpered into the pillow, knuckles turning white from how tightly you gripped it in your arms, voice rising in pitch, words muffled. 
He groaned lowly against your neck, almost as if he were struggling to keep himself quiet now. 
“You’re gonna have to cum without making any noise.” he told you lowly, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, panting. 
The bed rocked faintly under the force of his precise thrusts, getting so deep inside you and grazing your g-spot over and over with his three fingers trapped under your body and rubbing mercilessly at your clit. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, eyelashes fluttering, drooly lips dampening the pillowcase your mouth was pressed into. He had you entirely surrounded; body and soul. 
“Think you can be a good girl and do that for me? Not a sound.” 
You could barely choke out a, “Yes, sir.”
“Yeah?” he kept shoving strongly into you, getting slightly faster as he, too, felt that rising pleasure coiling deep within him. He spoke in a hushed tone against your ear, sending shivers down your neck, “If you’re a good girl and don’t make a peep, I’ll reward you with a nice big load deep inside you. You want that?”
“Uh huh-” you cried out into the pillow, barely able to understand anything he was saying you were so far gone. Naturally, your hips raised up a little to try and feel as much of him as possible no matter how much he had you pinned underneath his body weight. 
“Yeah? Want me to cum inside you, baby?” he purred, his voice barely more than a whisper. 
“Ugh, please.” you moaned, muffled by the pillow and sheets, face pressed firmly into the linen. 
Your hand flew out to slam against the built in headboard to anchor yourself on something, writhing against the mattress and his hand that was still stuffed between your legs. You were a moaning mess and desperately tried to use the pillow to keep yourself quiet as the euphoria ramped up strongly within you, burning heat. 
“That’s it, baby.” George praised through his teeth, still fucking into you strongly despite the way your body started to clench down around him, “Shh, shh, that’s it. Fuck, that’s it.”
His voice was handsomely strained, face contorted in beautiful pleasure tied in with proud satisfaction as he made you cum underneath him. With his hand that wasn’t busy between your legs, he pressed his palm against the back of your neck to keep you in the pillow to make sure no excess sounds would escape you as you cried out for him through your orgasm, muffling your chanted ‘yeses’ as he took you over. 
“Good girl. Good fucking girl.” he groaned lowly. 
With a few more thrusts, he was coming hard inside you, giving you a few more shoves to make sure he was as deep as he could get. His jaw clenched and long lashes fluttering, he moaned softly, beautifully, through the sticky warm air of the bedroom. You pushed your hips up to wiggle your ass back on him a little, milking him dry just a little more until he was entirely spent. 
George pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then sat back on his haunches, letting the sheets fall off his flushed body as his hands trailed down your curves and over the fabric of your shirt that was now slightly damp with sweat. He gripped your hips and eased you back flat onto your stomach so he could pull out slowly, his hungry eyes staring between you as he left you empty and gaping.
You turned your head out of the pillow to gasp for air as he pulled out, letting him adjust your panties back into place before he was tucking himself back into his boxers and flopping into his spot beside you. His sigh didn’t go unnoticed and you blinked at him like that for a moment, a proud and pleasured smile starting to form across your lips, before you reached a hand out to rest against his chest and his rapidly beating heart. 
George lolled his head to the side to meet your gaze and set his hand over yours. You stared at each other for a moment before he leaned in to softly kiss your lips, sharing a few lingering kisses between heavy breaths. When he pulled away, he rested his head on the pillow right with you so your noses were almost touching; both of you much preferring the comfort of each other’s personal space - especially after nights like that. 
With a sigh, George grumbled begrudgingly as if hating to admit that you were ever right in the first place, “We’re getting a hotel room tomorrow night, I don’t care.”
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♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
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spudangle · 8 months
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Companion Bed/Sleeping Preferences
Lae'zel. Brought up as a warrior she definitely prefers practicality over comfort. Big luxurious soft beds are not for her, they’re too much of a hassle to get in and out of, not proficient at all. But if she has to, then she can pretty much sleep anywhere, be it while lying down, sitting, or standing. If she were to choose, she would probably prefer a hard surface over a soft one, so that her back feels nice and straight in the morning. She’s probably the companion who goes to bed first if she’s not on watch duty, and were it not for the elven companions then she would also be the one to wake up first quickly getting ready for the day. However she’s NOT allowed to sharpen her sword until after everyone else has gotten up.     
Shadowheart, too, has been trained to be able to sleep under most conditions, and a comfortable bed hasn’t really been commonplace for her under Shar.
But unlike Lae’zel, Shadowheart would actually enjoy having a bit of comfort in her life, especially after leaving Shar. It’s just something that she has to rediscover gradually. The feeling of the soft warm bed that she has at the Elfsong—a stark contrast to the cold stone of her old bed—is nice, but she almost finds it too warm at first quickly having to throw off her duvet to not overheat. The smell of clean linens however is perhaps her favorite thing, reminding her of a childhood long forgotten. Post-game she would probably enjoy having her own sleep rituals that she can do for herself and not to appease some cruel goddess. 
Astarion is a man of luxury. That means that he wants as big and soft a bed as possible, he practically wants to drown into the mattress. And it HAS to have clean silk sheets, he is done with damp dirty sheets that smell like they’ve been fucked to death. The bed is preferably a curtained four poster so that the warmth can’t escape, because obviously the bed has been warmed up by a bed warmer before he gets in. I know that there are several takes about the wooden board that he has in his tent, but I personally believe that it's there so he doesn't have to place his bedroll directly on the dirty ground. Anyways, Astarion wants a comfortable bed because he is a creature of comfort, and if can’t rest peacefully then he can at least suffer while in a comfortable bed. 
Gale also is a man of comfort when it comes to beds. His bed in Waterdeep has at least ten pillows, however he can only sleep with one otherwise he gets neck pain. The extra pillows are there so that he can sit comfortably while reading in bed. The bed itself is probably also really pompous looking, not exactly like the one from his last night alive scene, no it’s more pompous than that, it’s probably round. Yes it’s round. It’s a round four poster, decorated with golden constellations and heavy velour curtains hoisted up with thick tasseled ropes. And boy did he miss his bed when he had to leave Waterdeep. It’s not that he can’t sleep anywhere else, it just takes him a while to get used to new surfaces. ALSO, Gale most definitely talks in his sleep. Has he ever set something on fire in his sleep? He would never admit it, but he also can’t say no.    
Wyll. Since being cast out by his father Wyll quickly got used to not having a regular bed. He’d either be camping or he’d be offered shelter for his heroic deeds by the people who he helped. He probably enjoys camping quite a bit, finding the quietness of nature relaxing. Either that or he’s too much of an optimist to admit to himself that he misses having a warm bed. Wyll is also most definitely a morning person. Early bird gets the worm and all that. In fact he gets restless if has to laze around in bed for too long. Lastly, sleeping after he gets his horns is, if not a struggle, then at least something that takes some getting used to. For instance, he can’t lie down without a pillow. Not on his back. Not his side. Not his stomach. So pillows are a must, or at least just something that takes the strain off his head/neck while lying down.    
Karlach is probably the most restless sleeper of the gang. Not in the sense that she doesn’t sleep well—because she does—but she is a very animated sleeper, either kicking or punching the air, or she gets those weird twitches while dreaming. So unfortunately she’s not just a bad bed partner because of her body temperature, which sucks because she loves spooning before falling asleep. So, she’s either cradling Clive or her blanket for comfort. She also prefers sleeping in cold environments, which was fine when the group hadn’t reached Baldur’s Gate because when you’re outside then there’s always a draft. However the Elfsong doesn’t offer that same luxury, but at least she gets to sleep next to the window.
Halsin can also pretty much sleep anywhere, not because it’s practical, but because he’s always comfortable, at least when out in the wild. After all, the perk of bear form is that you’re well-padded for any surface. And he is a heavy sleeper. Give this man a good hearty meal, and he’ll sleep for 12 hours. This also means that any bed partner of his should be careful that they don’t get smothered under him, because if he is in deep sleep then you cannot wake him. He has also most definitely talked himself to sleep when telling his children goodnight stories before bed, only to then wake up and find that he’s the one that's been tucked into bed.
(If you’re interested in more bed thoughts then I also have this post)
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sapphosclosefriend · 9 months
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- Money, Power, Glory pt 5 -
Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader
Genre: smut, fluff, a little pining??
Summary: your Christmas vacation with Natasha couldn't start off in a better way… Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N=56, R=24), very brief drinking (N), SMUT, anal play (R receiving), butt plugs (R), anal sex (R receiving)
A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I already have something in mind for the next part, but after that I still don't know how it will go…anyway, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays!!! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡
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To say it was cold was an understatement and soon a part of you regretted getting out of bed, despite the turmoil of emotions that plagued your mind any time you stopped for more than one second and got the chance to let your thoughts run free.
It had been weeks since that one beautiful weekend in Cuba and Natasha’s words still echoed clearly in your head.
“You make me wanna be perfect.”
You didn't care about her being “perfect”, she already was, but the thought of Natasha caring about what you thought of her made you feel special, deep down. You made sure not to bring up the topic if not prompted by her, though. You remembered very clearly the uncertainty in her beautiful eyes as she had said those words and, despite the reassurance you had tried your best to give her once she tried to apologize for her confession, you knew she still wasn't completely confident with the things she felt with you.
After her confession, for some time, asking you to spend more than a couple hours with her, something you had done almost as soon as you got to know each other, had started to feel almost overbearing to Natasha. It was her instinct immediately screaming at her to run away, just like usual, but the deal she had made with herself pushed her to try her best this time around. So she ended up doing what had plagued her mind for hours to no end, she asked you to spend Christmas with her. She knew it wasn't a holiday you particularly liked to spend with anybody, so she hoped there could've been a remote chance of you possibly agreeing to spend it with her.
She honestly didn't like how, deep down, she was starting to feel something extremely close to desperation at the prospect of, by chance, spending the day alone, yet again. It usually wouldn't have upset her too much, but this year she felt herself being more emotional than usual, thanks to the tumult of emotions you had been making her feel, which is why she knew that doing her usual trip to that place would've been so much harder than usual…
But luckily enough for her, you said yes and spared her heart an ache she really wasn't looking forward to feeling.
You didn't know what you were expecting when she said she'd bring you to a special place she liked, but a gigantic, wooden mansion in the woods wasn't exactly what you anticipated. At first it didn't really feel like something that would fit Natasha’s character, but when you thought about it a bit more, it was actually the perfect place for someone like her. Yes, it was still incredibly luxurious and slightly over the top, like the strong, stone cold CEO everyone knew her to be, but the quiet nature surrounding it, completely void of the chaos of the city and any people, felt like the real Natasha, the quiet, almost slightly shy one you had gotten to know in private.
You knew she had worked nonstop right until you had left, so you were pretty sure she would've appreciated what you had planned for your first day of vacation.
As soon as you got to your destination and she had given you a brief tour of the beautiful place, you were in her bed, not to do anything scandalous for once. You had barely given her the time to get in the bedroom before you were pushing her on the soft mattress and getting to work to give her the best massage you could, trying your best to relax her tense muscles at least a little bit. Thankfully, it had definitely worked because not only was she moaning the whole time in a way that you could barely ignore by the end of your little session, but she was out for a good three hours as soon as you finished your job.
You wanted nothing more than to bask in her relaxed beauty as she soundly slept next to you, but her calmness almost immediately lulled you into a delicious slumber as well.
You had unfortunately woken up from your nap all alone but you thankfully found her quite easily, despite the extremely large building you were still unfamiliar with.
You immediately missed the warmth coming from the cracking wood in the fireplace as soon as you stepped foot outside. Despite someone having taken care of the previously fully white hangout area right outside of the living room, there were still traces of snow over the large terrace as you shakily crossed it to reach Natasha. Maybe you underestimated the weather a bit too much and you definitely shouldn't have gone out only in sweatpants, uggs and a sweater but it was too late to change now, you needed to be with her.
She was leaning over the railing, facing the frozen lake a couple of feet away from the house while she lazily smoked a cigarette by herself. You had strangely never seen her smoke, but the lighter always sitting on the coffee table in the terrace back at her home suggested she sometimes indulged herself in it. She heard you way before you were able to reach her and, by the time you were by her side, she was already welcoming you with open arms, waiting for you to sneak in front of her to close her coat over the both of you.
"You're gonna freeze to death, detka."
Her murmured words and her voice, still slightly raspy from sleep, warmed you up just a little as you sneaked a hand out of its warm spot to snatch her cigarette and take a drag, appreciating even the small traces of warmth on your fingers from the end burning. Your breath, mixing with the smoke in the cold air, created a thick cloud in front of the two of you as you gave her back her cigarette.
"You should stop."
A sense of déjàvu seemed to suddenly hit Natasha as you repeated the words she'd heard from every single one of her wives. But the usual hints of annoyance she expected to feel at the thought of someone trying to tell her what to do surprisingly never came, leaving her only with the faint need to grant your wish and prevent you from worrying for her.
“If it'll make my sweet girl happy, maybe I will.”
“My”, that word hit you so deep and kept echoing in your mind over and over. How good did it sound, the idea of being Natasha's girl, of being the one next to her in life. It must've been even colder than you thought for your brain to get lost in such thoughts once again. You promised yourself you wouldn't give them air, yet there you were, melting in her arms at such simple words she probably didn't mean in such a deep way. Ok, maybe she did mean them in the exact way you were hoping…
You admittedly couldn't stop thinking about her, the deeper and deeper feelings you had for her plagued your mind all. the. time. And the only thing that reigned in your head every second of every hour was pure, emotional chaos. You knew you had to decide whether you wanted to try to pursue her in a less…professional way, but you hated to admit that you didn't know if you were brave enough to do so. You were still technically working when you spent time with her and hiding behind your job admittedly gave you a small sense of reassurance while you tried to get a grip on your spiraling thoughts.
You hated the fact that you were making her wait, you still hadn't given her a sign as clear as hers that you reciprocated the way she felt for you, and you knew that, if you waited for too long, your chance would've slipped away.
You didn't even really know what caused your stupid hesitation and you hated yourself for it. You could only do what felt the most fitting lately and tried not to think about it for too long. And the beautiful woman pressed right against your back, despite being the cause of your dilemma, at the same time easily gave you the perfect distraction any time you needed.
“It would…tho, I've got to admit, you're so hot when you smoke, jesus christ!”
You used the pretense of the icy weather to hide most of your face behind her warm coat, but she immediately noticed your genuine shyness behind the action at your spontaneous admittance. It warmed her heart every time you left some appreciations slip and got embarrassed for it. She only chuckled at your words and finished the rest of her cigarette in silence, soaking in the calmness from simply being in each other's presence.
As soon as she was done smoking you couldn't help but turn around in her arms, hugging her under her coat and breathing in her intoxicating scent from your warm spot in her hold. Your not so sneaky kiss on her neck as you hugged her could only make her need to feel your lips on hers and, lifting your chin with her index finger, she finally lost herself in a soft kiss. For once, you managed to lazily make out without your clothes immediately ending up scattered everywhere and you had to admit that you loved the tender, yet still passionate, moment just so much more than you expected. You gladly would've spent the rest of the day frozen in that moment, but you knew that, if you didn't stop yourself, you were the one who would've ended up frozen to death. And you wanted to live long enough to at least show her what you had ready for her…
“I have a surprise for you”
You barely managed to break the kiss to murmur the words against her lips and the small glint in her eyes made your stomach flutter like crazy.
“Another one? You're spoiling me, pretty girl.”
She seriously had to stop calling you all those names or else you were sure you wouldn't have been able to handle being called anything else ever again.
“I'm barely repaying you. You do so much for me.”
You felt your cheeks slightly warm up at your own words and the way she sweetly kissed your lips as a response certainly didn't help. You felt some of your confidence come back, though, once your mind went back, once again, at what the rest of the day would've been.
“Now, how about you go get comfortable on the couch, relax a little and wait for me? I'll be quick, I promise.”
“Yes ma'am.”
She smirked as she muttered her words, knowing that was the most you could manage to boss her around. She was more than happy to comply, though. Not only was she actually curious of what was to come, but she knew she would've done basically anything in her comfort zone to make you happy.
So she did just what you said. She made herself a drink, sat on the couch in front of the fireplace and patiently waited for you to finally come back to her. She barely had the time to get herself lost in thought, before the sound of your footsteps got closer and closer to her. The white fur trims were the first things she saw once you rounded the corner and, as soon as your full figure graced her eyes, a playful, yet genuine, smile broke out on her face.
You had decided to do something a little more playful, and got yourself a red velvet mini dress with white fur trims at the bottom of the skirt and the top of the cleavage. If you had to be honest, you didn't even mind it, the dress itself definitely wasn't on the cheap side and you actually felt quite pretty in it. You also knew that Natasha liked something a bit different from time to time, so the thought of making her happy was most definitely a big plus.
“God, detka! You only get prettier, don't you? “
Despite your innocent facade you had purposely put on, your big smile and brief giggle were the most genuine thanks to her words. You couldn't help but lean over, giving her a perfect view of your cleavage in the meantime, to give her a quick kiss on the lips as a way to thank her.
As you turned around to move towards an armchair near the couch she was sitting on, she noticed the small pouch bag you'd been holding behind your back the whole time and couldn't help but grow curious as you got something from it. Leaning over to get the object you were looking for, the short skirt rode up your thighs deliciously, barely covering your center. Natasha knew she would've ended up leaning her head down to get a peak of what was hidden from her if you didn't straighten your back once again. And the initial, very brief, disappointment, immediately got replaced, once again, by anticipation as she intently observed your every movement. Gosh, you were driving her crazy while barely doing anything…
You held the mystery item behind your back the same way you were doing before with the bag and made your way back towards her, stopping in front of her. Natasha could immediately notice the mischievous nature behind the tiny smile you were trying to hide. She was starting to grow restless and she would've almost jumped on you if you didn't start talking.
“You've been very very good this year and I think you deserve a nice reward!”
She didn't utter a word as she waited for you to finish. Curiosity was eating her up, though, and sitting still on the couch, with you standing in front of her, your beautiful body perfectly on display for her, was getting harder by the second.
Thankfully, you easily got her attention as you showed her what you had behind your back.
“But first, you need to help me out with something.”
Your innocent voice and the glass candy cane that was hanging from your index finger, something most definitely void of any innocence, created a contrast that Natasha immediately felt in her pants. She had long given up by then, knowing that even the smallest thing you did or said could've easily gotten her riled up in a matter of seconds.
Her full attention was soon back on you once you'd gotten a secure hold of the candy cane and licked its tip before slowly pushing it into your mouth, stopping only once you had gotten down to its curve. Natasha couldn't stop a low groan of hers at the sight and unconsciously gripped her own thighs as to control herself once you leaned down. Your raised eyebrow and your eyes moving from hers to the toy made her understand what you wanted her to do. Your hollowed cheeks as she slowly pulled the candy cane out of your mouth, helped her pants feel even tighter and your pop once she fully pulled it out made it even worse.
Before she could make sure to calm herself down a bit, though, you turned around and leaned down a little, resting your hands on your own knees. Your new position made the skirt of your dress ride up dangerously and, soon enough, Natasha was finally able to fully see your surprisingly exposed center. She could only hum from the beautiful view of your already glistening core.
“Go on, put it in.”
Your words finally pulled her attention back to your face, as you now tried your best to look back at her. Happy to comply with your playfulness, she immediately went to push the end of the glass toy, now wet from your spit, into your pussy, but your giggle made her stop her movements as her smirk fell.
“Not in there, silly!”
She was at a loss for words and, thinking it was all a dream, she had to make sure she understood you correctly.
“Are you sure?”
You just smiled and nodded as a response and, seeing her still stuck in place, you wiggled your ass a little to get her attention back to her task in hand. Natasha took a deep breath to try to get a grip on herself. She knew that the tent in her pants was only destined to get worse in a matter of seconds.
Once she finally pushed the glass toy into the tight hole of your ass, she couldn't help but loudly curse. Your soft moans as she very slowly pushed more and more of it inside of you were already driving her crazy. Not wanting to go too fast she stopped herself once the straight end of the candy cane was around halfway inside and admired the amazing view in front of her. She could see how you unconsciously tried to squeeze your legs together as you softly whimpered from the different, yet extremely good, feeling.
As soon as she noticed her free hand getting closer to her own pants almost as if on its own, her attention was back on you. You slowly started to move back and forth over the glass toy Natasha held still in her hand and, the thought of possibly feeling her cock inside of you instead, surprised you with a loud moan of your own. Despite the toy's girth being quite alright, you soon found yourself needing more. You wanted her, you needed her. You could also hear Natasha's breathing getting a bit quicker partly thanks to her own hand now massaging herself through her pants.
So you pushed down one last time and, once you reached the curve of the candy cane, making the older woman groan at the lewd sight, you fully lifted yourself off of it with a breathy moan. The toy left a small opening once it left your hole and Natasha couldn't stop herself from imagining what it would’ve looked like if it was her cock you had fucked, instead. In that moment, the need to manhandle you on all fours to fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name hit her stronger than ever since you had known each other. But she did her best to hold herself back to find out what you were planning to do next.
The older woman was partly thankful once you moved away to rummage through your pouch bag, giving her some time to catch her breath and quickly finish her drink in one go. Once you got back, she knew it was all in vain, though.
Of course, the first thing she noticed was the butt plug you were holding that you had covered with lube. How could it not be? She had to admit it took her a couple of seconds to snap out of her trance as she admired you once again standing in front of her, this time offering the new toy to her. Once she was finally able to move a muscle and grab it, you turned around and leaned down like before, waiting for Natasha to do what you silently asked her to. The cold metal on your skin slightly made you jump in surprise as she moved the tip over your hole to get some lube over it too. Feeling her applying a bit more pressure, you tried to relax as much as you could, but couldn't hold back a whine as she gradually pushed more and more. Natasha's low cursing kept gracing your ears and only made you more eager to please her. You held your breath as the widest part pushed past your ring and, just like that, the rest slipped in almost as if on its own, making you yelp in surprise.
You giggled at your own reaction and, looking back at her, you found her eyes still on your center as her hands gently moved over your cheeks. Natasha couldn't believe how much she was being affected by everything you were doing and the sight of the red stone on your tight hole and your pussy now most definitely wet, were starting to make her twitch in her own pants. You still hadn't explicitly said if you wanted her to fuck you, so she made sure
to make the most out of the beautiful view in front of her, definitely more than enough for now.
You unfortunately put a stop to it to stand back up, taking a deep breath and turning around to face her once again.
“Much better!”
Your smile was filled with fake innocence as you leaned down to kiss her on the lips and whisper to her as if you were telling her a secret.
“I'll wait for you in the bedroom”
You barely had the time to leave the living room before she was catching up on you and following you towards the bedroom, shamelessly admiring your exposed thighs. She couldn't stop thinking about what was hidden under your skirt and her anticipation kept growing bigger and bigger with every step you took and every gentle sway of your hips.
You wanted to treat her to a night all about her, and you also selfishly wanted to do it because you liked it too, but she apparently was more needy than you made her out to be.
As soon as you got into the bedroom and you tried to make her lie down to properly worship her body, she was pushing you to stay under her instead. The way she had manhandled you and her slightly flushed cheeks as she hovered over you, made your center spasm around the plug still inside of you, drawing a moan out of you. She couldn't waste one more second, her cock was almost painfully hard and the sight of you lying down under her, with your skimpy dress and your legs open, were making her, if possible, even more eager to have you.
Seeing her frantically taking her pants and underwear off all while looking at your core made you pathetically whimper and you couldn't hold yourself from moving your own hand downwards to gently rub your clit in the meantime. You both knew you wouldn't have been able to indulge yourselves in any foreplay today, so you let her climb on the bed, between your legs, as you made yourself comfortable, ready to let her do whatever she wanted to you. But, before you could lay your head on the pillows, she made you turn around and pulled your ass up, making you kneel on all fours before her. You could barely breathe, she was always the one in charge during your sessions, but this was a slightly different side of Natasha you still hadn't met, unfortunately.
She ran her hands over your ass cheeks once again, lifting your skirt while doing so, before gliding her palms over the small of your back and upwards. Once she got to your shoulder blades she gently, yet purposefully, pushed until the side of your face was pressed against the mattress and your ass was in the air. You could see her admiring you from the corner of your eye and after a few seconds she leaned down a little to get closer to your face.
“Can I take it out, detka?”
Her soft voice was so much different than her actions and it made your heart flutter. You could only eagerly nod and whisper a small “yes, please”, after which she immediately straightened her back up, kneeling behind you, and took a deep breath before taking a hold of the end of the plug. She gently pulled on it, making you gasp at the incredible feeling, and gradually pulled it out. Natasha couldn't help but moan at the sight of your ass stretching over the largest part of the toy and the need to feel you got almost unbearable.
She made sure to get a hold on herself, though, wanting to make the experience as comfortable as possible for you, and thoroughly lubed her cock.
“You ready?”
As soon as you answered positively, she positioned her cock against your ass, trying to calm down her breathing in the meantime.
Your mouth opened in a silent moan as she slowly pushed the head of her cock inside. It felt overwhelming yet not nearly enough at the same time and you didn't know whether you wanted her to stop or give you more. She wasn't even halfway inside when she stopped moving for a little bit to let you get used to it and, in the meantime, admire once again the way your ass tightened around her.
She couldn't believe how good you felt around her even without moving at all and she ended up having to focus on your beautiful face to distract herself while you got more comfortable. Your eyes were closed while you grasped one of the pillows for dear life and your lips looked even more tempting than usual as you shakily breathed through them. She would've gladly leaned down to kiss you with all the lo-care she had, but she wanted to wait for you to be more at ease.
“Please, move”
Your small, trembling voice that finally graced her ears after a bit, sounded heavenly to Natasha, who, taking a hold on your hips, slowly pulled out a little, before pushing back in, gradually going just a little deeper each time. She basked in the blissful sounds you were making and, once she settled on a regular pace, she finally left herself get lost in the pleasure. You finally got to hear her guttural moans as she fucked you still at a quite slow pace. You were sure there couldn't have been a more beautiful sound in the world and you would've gladly done anything to listen to it all the time.
Natasha's hold on your hips kept getting tighter and tighter, almost to the point of it being painful. You knew she was holding back and while at first you were thankful for it, you were once again feeling the gnawing need to feel more of her.
“Oh shit”
Natasha couldn't help but curse under her breath once she started feeling you pushing back against her every thrust, and your loud moan as you tightened around her once again did nothing but drive her wild. You tried to look back at her to admire her beautiful face of pure bliss and, once her eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but moan and move a little bit faster, making her movements quicken as well.
You settled on a steady pace and, while it satisfied you for a bit, you soon found yourselves needing more and more and more. It seemed like it was never enough.
You were desperate to feel each other cum as soon as possible, but, at the same time, you didn't want the blissful moment to end.
After a bit, sensing both of your orgasms approaching, Natasha pushed as much of herself she could inside of you, staying still for a couple of seconds and admiring you as you tried to hold yourself upright. You could barely breathe, if you thought she felt big while fucking you, you were wrong.
Once she finally pulled out, she graced you with a loud groan as you collapsed on the bed. Your and Natasha's heaving was the only sound in the room as you tried to recover as much as you possibly could.
You only noticed the tear that had escaped your eye once she gently wiped it with her thumb, before leaning down and kissing your cheek so softly you barely felt it.
“Are you ok?”
She barely pulled away to whisper her words, lowly speaking as if to make sure no one else could hear her. You only nodded while looking at her beautiful face and basked in the feeling of her hand gently running up and down your back.
“Do you wanna keep going?”
This time your nod was more eager, despite your energy starting to run low, and before she could ask you again, you made sure to confirm your desire with a firm “yes”.
As soon as you complied, she once again kissed your cheek and helped you turn around, letting you lie on your back to face her. She looked so beautiful, even more beautiful than usual, if that was even possible, and you suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling tugging at your heart at the sight of Natasha softly smiling down at you. You almost wanted to cry, but before you could get even more emotional than you apparently already were, you caressed her cheek and leaned up to deeply kiss her on the lips.
As you kept languidly making out, she ran her hands over your thighs as she settled between them and made you open them as much as you could. Once she broke the kiss, she leaned her forehead against yours and pushed her cock back inside of your ass, making you whimper at the even more intense feeling thanks to her closeness this time.
Thanks to the orgasm you both were about to reach just minutes before, you soon found yourselves settling back into a regular pace, gradually growing quicker by the minute.
You couldn't hold back another whine when Natasha straightened her back to stand on her knees, putting some distance between the two of you you admittedly hated deep down. But her hold on your waist as she resumed with a fast pace and her other hand moving to your clit, easily clouded your mind once again.
She was making you once again get closer to your peak incredibly fast and as much as you tried to hold it back for as long as you could, knowing that she was equally close to cumming, made you get even more lost in the highest pleasure you'd ever felt. She looked like a straight up goddess as she breathed hard through her mouth with her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes roaming every snippet of your figure she could, made you feel like you couldn't be blessed by anything holier in your life.
You never wanted her to stop gracing your eyes and ears and skin. You wanted, no, needed her at all times and the moans that you couldn't hold back were unfortunately the only thing you could offer her back.
You could feel it coming, oh how sweet was your peak going to be, like no other in your entire life.
There it was! It was coming to the surface! No no no no, it wasn't a moan! Why couldn't you stop it!
“I love you!”
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Part 6
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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy @mrsromanovaa @wizardofstories @karsonromanoff @scarlettbitchx
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multiwreckedmess · 1 year
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Two Princes (An Unexpected Part 2)
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Pairing: Prince!Hyunjin x fem!servant!Reader x Prince!Felix Genre: Royalty AU Smut WC: 5.5k Summary: The Princes are a dream too good to be true. The previous encounter feels like a mere hallucination. They are determined to prove you wrong.   TW/CW: Power imbalance. SoftDom!Hyunjin, SoftDom!Felix, unprotected penetration, non-explicit consent, reader is called “darling” “doll” “toy”, hyunlix is called “sir”, oral sex, throat fucking, gagging mentioned, lots of body fluids, creampie/cum in mouth. Hyunjin has a name kink ig? Felix and Hyunjin aren’t related but are close like brothers so if that gives you the ick heads up. Written mostly in a fugue state with no editing because HAPPY 5-STAR DAY
As usual, this is fiction not a resource manual for how to do literally anything in life. This does not represent ANYONE real or fictional. It’s a fantasy AU FFS if you cannot figure that out I cannot help you. Also not proofread sorry...
Part 1 idk that it matters though. But people see to like it!
 Eyes shut to prolong your feeling of floaty weightlessness you roll over, surprised to find more mattress instead of the edge of the bed. Sandwiched between cool cotton sheets your fingers run over the fabric, softer than you remember but not unfamiliar, it’s fabric you’ve felt too many times to count as you practiced folding immaculate corners. There’s even more light here than in your small single room on the ground floor that has to fight for the occasional beam.   Gripping the thin fabric of your chamise with the luxurious cotton bedspread you bolt upright, eyelids flying open and heart pounding. The room is full of light linen fabrics in preparation for summer, bouncing the sun off of the walls brilliantly. Your maid’s uniform sticks out, dark stiff cloth neatly hung over the back of a small wooden chair nearby. Window open to the spring breeze, the smell of the castle garden flowers wafts past. It’s not your room, it’s not even near your side of the castle, you’re not even sure you’ve seen this room. It’s too quiet and lovely for you to feel comfortable in, years of conditioning rousing your aching body from the sheets to hurriedly don your uniform.  Unfussed about fully lacing your bodice you scurry out of the door, still making the effort to close it quietly, muscle memory hindering your quick escape. Heels barely touching the tiles, your feet propel you forward, down the side stairs to the cool darkness of the ground level, your home level. It’s easier and more familiar for you to navigate this, both the people and the corridors.
 A little sore and a little confused you’ve never felt more relieved to crash unseen into the kitchen, yanking a bundle of herbs from the pantry. You knew how to prepare the remedy, the ‘backup plan’ that had passed through the eons of people before you. Choking back the bitter concoction in your room alone you sighed. A small price to pay for a moment in a dream. It barely felt real. None of your interactions with the Princes ever did. Memories tossed in a haze of fairy dust thickly layered over your senses. What seemed so real and physical even a day prior was faded and yellowed and distant already.
 Never to happen again for sure.  You were a birthday present.  An experience for the men.  Nothing more.  Don’t delude yourself.
 From bundled in your covers, much rougher than you’d slept in the night before, to busying yourself with daily chores, you tried your best to forget. Yet you couldn’t help thinking giddily of the possessive way their eyes watched you, their tongues talked about you. Worth of winning, of dominating. A good subject, the best really that they could hope for. Their prized gift.
 It was easy to slip back into the natural rhythm of the castle. The council only convened on a monthly basis and without their direct request, few women were asked to care for either prince, mostly needing hands for meals and daily exercises, nothing that particularly required you. They were independent and easy to avoid without drawing much attention. Free agents at least within the walls of the fortress.
 It’s humid and sticky. It finally feels like summer is nearing after a cool spring. You don’t expect anyone of importance to see you, hair pulled up and away into ‘work mode’ straggling strands flying every which way. Cheeks hot from exertion you knead your fresh-from-the-icebox pie crust. Flour billowing up around your elbows as you slam the dough into the smooth marble counter. Finally seeing fit to press it flat and roll it out to cut into thin strips and carefully lattice the top of your strawberry rhubarb pie.
 “I’ve been simply craving a slice of pie,” a deep rumble purrs in your ear as you weave the delicate strips between each other. “-and I do love strawberries.”  You bump up against him as you scramble to curtsy, “Your Royal Highness, Prince Felix. What-why-you- forgive me but this is the servers quarters-”  “This is my castle,” he retorts, “nothing is off limits that is within my sight or grasp.”  You nod your head in a half bow, “correct sir, of course but- why? Your eyes shouldn’t be soiled by this!”  He smirks, eyes flitting to a stack of freshly washed strawberries, waiting to be pitted and sliced. “I wanted a snack,” he explains cooly, arm brushing passed yours to grab the fattest, ripest strawberry on the top of the pile, “and there were none left in the auxiliary kitchen so I thought I’d find my very favorite sweet.” Pouty lips wrapping around the plump fruit he bites down, red juices tinting his mouth a pinkish hue. Eyes closing slowly like a pleased cat, Felix moans. You struggle to keep your composure as a telltale throb courses to your cunt. Slowly his lids flutter open, hand turning the strawberry to you, eyes locked on your face. “It’s perfect. Won’t you try a bite?”  “Sir I couldn’t, really, they are meant for-” the firm flesh of the fruit bumps against your lower lip, finishing your sentence for you.  “Darling, you’re going to refuse a treat from your future king? That’s not the good girl I know.”  A bead of juice slides over your lips, traveling down your chin. Felix watches with pride as you slowly accept his offer, hesitantly opening your mouth, waiting for him to place the berry further on your tongue. When he doesn’t move you gingerly crane your neck forward to take the other half of the berry and bite down. An explosion of acidic sweetness plays over your tongue. It is as he said, a perfect berry, the dictionary definition of a strawberry, tangy and fresh. It’s difficult to control your eyes, momentarily rolling back in your head in delight.  “Delicious,” Felix watches you savor the experience, feasting on your reaction, arms caging you in as you chew. “I’m still a little hungry though,” his thumb swipes the trail of red from the corner of your mouth as you swallow, “aren’t you?” The wet pad playing over your lips you open and accept him in, tongue twirling around him sucking the juice off gently. Felix shudders, hips pressing forward and pinning yours to the counter. Your entire nervous system pulses, tingling waves traveling out to your fingertips, an alarm jolting through you. He leans in, eyelids half lowered, like he’s going to kiss you. Instead he stops, firmly pressing his damp thumb to your cheek and brushing flour off you before pulling away completely.  You can’t contain the gasp, the obvious release of tension from your body, the way you bit your lip to try to control your expression.  “Cute,” he coos, turning heel to the door. “Mother always said not to fill up on sweets though. Too much sugar will spoil the meal.”
 Sweaty, dirty, skirt hitched and legs unstockinged, the hot mid morning sun beats down on you as you plod through the large kitchen garden. Far less aesthetic than the gardens outside of the window you’d woke up by after that fateful day but far more useful. Flowers here won’t turn into beautiful bouquets or pressed ornaments to be put on display. They’ll turn into sustenance or medicine or be plucked to prolong the herb’s fragrance.  “Were I not who I am, I think I’d rather like the country life.” You hear a voice float your way.  “Says the one standing on the outside,” you retort without thinking or looking up. “Country life is easy when you’re not the one elbow deep in-” bent over, yanking a shallot free of the earth you are interrupted by hands at your waist and thighs meeting your backside. Yelping you whip around ready to smack the assailant who dares handle you in such a rough manner but as your head turns and eyes meet you find yourself diverting the energy into a curtsy. “Your Royal Highness, Prince Hyunjin, I’m so sorry I-I would’ve never- if I’d known- why are you-? Why didn’t you-? I’m not decent!” You stammer helplessly, eyes down, quickly working to let your skirts down to preserve what little appearance you hoped to have in front of your lord.  “Darling, I’ve seen you far less decent and will see you far less decent again, if you’ll have me.”  A lump catches in your throat, brain melting in the heat of the sun or the heat of his gaze. “I thought- I assumed it was just- I was just-”  Hyunjin smiles and laughs, brushing back the small hairs stuck to your brow. It’s a kind laugh, a knowing laugh. “Now now, our mothers taught us better than that. Never waste wine, words or women, that was the little idiom.” He looks at you with such sincerity, eyes crinkling into half moons, beads of sweat forming on his own brow as the sun rises higher. As you stand silent in the middle of the garden surrounded by freshly unfurled leaves it feels private and intimate. Slowly his arms mimic the growing beanstalks beside you, wrapping around at your waist casually.  “Sir I’m dripping sweat and caked in dirt you really shouldn’t-”  “What if I like that about you? The sweat and the dirt. What if I want my woman to be sweaty and dirty?” He cocks his eyebrow with a smirk.  It’s hard to contain your eye roll even as your heart flutters, “then that is your choice sir but-”  “You can call me my name. We aren’t in earshot of anyone, you can just say it.”  “Sir I-”  “I want you to say my name.”  You sigh, shooting him a pleading glance as you untangle yourself from his arms, “sir please my training dictates-”  “I can either say please or I can order you but I want to hear you say my name so you will.”  “Prince Hyunjin,” you say hesitantly, hoping that it will be enough to satisfy him.  He shakes his head, “just the last part. Just my name.”  “Hyunjin,” you breathe out. Though it’s a silly superstition but it feels like a bolt of lightening might strike you at any time, your body tensing in preparation for the hit. Even the slight brush of his fingertips to the side of your arms has your shoulder flinching in response.  “It sounds so sweet coming from you, darling, but I rather hear you scream it.” He says with a twinkle in his eye, hand wandering to your ass to cup it. It’s easier this time, “Hyunjin,” falling exasperated from your lips. “Not here.”  With a chuckle he steps closer, impossibly closer. The sun is hot and so is he, both sending rays of heat from their bodies to set you aflame. He smells like earth and musk. “It’s my castle. If we want to right here, we can. And if anyone says anything malicious about it I can have them beheaded.”  Your eyes bulging, you gasp. Normally you’d assume he was joking but his face is so neutral, so matter-of-fact, that there has to be at least some truth to his words. The proximity to power scares and excites you.  “But- my brother might hear about it and he’d be so disappointed to miss out on the fun! I don’t think I could bare his sorrowful stare.” And so Hyunjin leaves you, stunned in the middle of the kitchen garden, only half the leeks for dinner gathered in your basket and the afternoon sun high in the sky.
 “You’ve been requested for duty in the throne room again,” the matron eyes you up and down. Logically you know, her judgemental gaze is simply routine, scrutinizing your preparedness to undertake the job. It was a part of your work you were accustomed to. Fastidiously managing every aspect of the staff was her job, any emotion had been removed long before you were born. “Be sure to tidy yourself.” She’s brusque with words and actions alike, hurriedly closing your door behind her.  “The princes wouldn’t care if you marched in there only in your chamise, they seemed to make that quite clear,” you snickered to yourself, the matron’s final word to “tidy” still fresh in your ear. You weren’t shocked to be called back, neither was she. You were well trained in her eyes, a star pupil of hers, of course the princes would see the value in your quiet servitude. However you knew that your aptitude at sitting in a corner and refilling goblets wasn’t the reason they were asking for you and that was enough to make your stomach flutter. The tension of anticipation building and surging through you, an energy, infectiously radiated from your aura. How would you manage to keep yourself in check for however long the council would be today
 High arched windows, velvet curtains swapped recently for billowing linens, light flooded the great hall. Even your corner, your darling little corner, was brighter than you remembered. The twin glittering thrones posed domineering at the head of the long table, lined with similarly lush chairs although none as impressive. Memories of your previous foray into the belly of the castle appear in flashes as you blink. The cool air kissing your skin before their warm hands had time to. The prickle of tension passing up your spine as they admired you.  You shake yourself, you have to stay focused. You can’t get your hopes up. You were a gift, a toy, an experience for the Princes and you should be happy enough with that. No matter how they were raised or their stations in life, they were men after all. The matron had always warned you, in love and politics all men were knaves not knights. Besides what good would swooning do when work had to be done? Play your part, the stalwart help, rather than expose the small stuttering maid you feel like in their presence.  It isn’t long before advisors and guests alike trickle into the room, some mingling while standing, others immediately settling into their seats. A good mixture of familiar faces and new. The hum of voices busys your mind as you wait for someone to have want for something.  When the princes enter it feels like the oxygen is sucked from the room. The older advisors don’t seem to notice, happily continuing their side conversations. The guests notice. You notice. Instead of heading to their thrones they join the fray around the table, quiet confident smiles and assured strides carry them. Hyunjin seems more at ease, leaning to the side casually as Felix maintains his near military posture. They almost blend into the group, were it not for their beauty. Their hair is even longer since you last saw it, flowing almost past their chin, pieces neatly tucked behind their ears. Were they yours to have and hold you’d braid pieces back from their face, maybe weave flowers or ribbons through. You catch yourself. It wasn’t your place to consider how they managed any part of their appearance. It was your place to monitor the food and drink and get additional assistance as required.  A clanging of a fork to a glass jolts you up and onto your feet. Hyunjin’s glass is aloft, casually stretched in front of him, focused on you.  “Before we officially begin,” his voice fills the hall, ringing clearly off the walls, “I’d like to welcome our Miss. Would you please come to the head of the table for me darling?”  You nearly choke as all eyes turn to you. There are no other people near you, there is no excuse to hide behind. An order is an order and you find your legs moving stiffly below you, stepping almost mechanically as they bring you to the head of the table.  Felix’s hand swoops behind you, the warmth of his palm spreading through the layers of bodice, corset, and chamise, easily maneuvering you between the princes with a gentle pressure against your spine. Hyunjins hand lines up just above Felix’s, like a guard on either side.  “As she passed her trial run with flying colors, we’ve requested she become a permanent fixture as a part of these meetings,” Hyunjin beams as the party claps. Arms pressed to you, they keep your standing as your legs waiver. “Please say hello. We insist.”  You clear your throat, “I’m honored too much by your graces. I look forward to fulfilling my duties to the utmost,” your voice breaks awkwardly, embarrassed heat creeping up the back of your neck.  “We look forward to using all of your services.” Felix announces, the polite clapping of the attendees carefully covers his cheeky swat at your behind. Hyunjin gently squeezes your hip with a reassuring nod. It feels like home, even just for a second.
 Meetings and side conversations and boring court business seems to last forever. Normally you’d see at least some attrition from the advisors and guests but today each one appears to be firmly cemented to their seat. Your spine grows tired, eyes drooping with fatigue. It would be one thing if they needed you as they did the last meeting, running around with pitchers of various drinks to suit all tastes but today no one seems to want for anything. Somehow the absence of work is more tiring than the work itself. Your time is spent finding small ways to keep yourself alert, tapping your toes, staring at the bright sun, even busying yourself by changing out the many pitchers to their cooler cellar kept counterparts.  Even with the intense conversations and work happening it’s impossible to miss the prince’s apologetic glances as you pass the table once more, topping off glasses of both water and wine.  “Please,” Hyunjin claps his hands together, “no more. My brother is getting a headache and I fear I should shortly follow if this goes much longer. As I see it, there are no more pressing agenda items for this month, the rest may follow at our next meeting. Thank you all.” Hyunjin looks over his joined hands, locking eyes with you as he sits. He knows the staff’s rules, carefully watching you as you wait on your stool.
 Your eyes move between the princes, sensing the game of cat and mouse has already begun without your being aware. The thought enters your mind- at least this time you caught on before you were half dressed.  “Come, darling.” Felix’s command rings in the empty hall, shaking you all the way down to your core. “We’d like some of your assistance.”  Your pulse quickens, stepping lightly off the stool. Ears buzzing and oversensitive your footsteps sound like the marching of foot soldiers even as you pass lightly on the marble floor. It mirrors your heartbeat, wild in your chest and sinking low into your gut.  “Your royal highnesses, what do you desire?” You curtsy low in front of them. Meeting their gaze from beneath your brows at the apex of the bow. They look briefly at each other and smile.  “You.” Felix states plainly. The blatentness of it chokes you, air catching between your lungs and throat.   “I heard my brother paid you a visit,” Hyunjin begins. “He left hungry.”  “That’s funny as I heard a similar rumor about you Hyunjin,” Felix’s eyes stay locked on you. “visiting her in the garden but…you left empty handed.”  Your eyes flit downwards, embarrassed. “I’m sorry sirs, I’ll-I- if you are left wanting than the burden is on me.”  Wordlessly they rise from their thrones and meet you on the ground before their thrones.  “Are we really so burdensome to you?” Despite being only a pair their presence surrounds you, slowly circling on opposite sides like sharks.  “No that’s not what I - you- sirs- I-my words- it has been a long day for all of us and really-” you mutter, flustered. Head still tilted down Hyunjin takes the chance to plant a kiss on the back of your neck, lips working their way from your spine to the juncture between of your shoulder and side of your neck. Slowly his arms wrap around your waist, hands caressing up the front of your bodice. There’s no tugging, no hurry to remove the rough fabric under his fingertips. Instead he treats it like the most luxurious silk, breath fanning hotly as he groans.  “You’re right, we did you wrong today. Should’ve ended those pesky formalities much sooner. You must be so tired.” Hyunjin murmurs empathetically, the tones buzzing against your skin.Your body shivers, spine straightening with your head collapsing back on his shoulder. The slight suction of his mouth as he nips and sucks along his path has you head back on his shoulder, gasping for air.  “We must’ve mistaken a tired mind for disinterest, isn’t that right darling?” Felix presses himself to your front, sandwiching you between their warm frames. “Or did a cat catch your tongue?” He laughs and his licks from your collarbone up the column of your throat. If it weren’t for their pressure you’d have collapsed to the floor between them as your legs turn to jelly.
 The princes feel the additional weight immediately.  “Move?”  “Mhm.”  “Garden room.”  “Perfect.”  Their casual communication to each other is a far crying from the flowering sentences they court you with. Brisk, short, economical with their words. The dialogue of two men who need none to understand each other. Felix breaks from you, his hand still curled over yours, tugging the mass of you and Hyunjin forward through the room to a small door you hadn’t remembered ever spotting. Whisking you down the corridor you barely remember the area before you pop out the other side into the room you’d woken up in after your last foray. The sun casting a reddish orange over, particles of dust float in the air, the bed shoddily made, unlike those you tended to. Less like the image of opulence you’d originally made it to be, more of a sanctuary from daily castle life.
 They assume their roles naturally, Felix left to undress you, like last time, as Hyunjin undresses himself. Felix’s hands are sure of their path, unlacing your bodice, unpinning the waist of your skirts, popping open the confines of your corset, each action a smooth steady motion. Goosebumps coat your newly exposed skin as he peels off layers at a time. He peppers the areas with warm kisses as he tosses the fabric to the floor at the side of the bed, dark fabrics sitting like piles of fallen leaves. With the smallest of pushes Felix presses your back to the mattress, pulling your legs up against his torso to shimmy your loosened skirts and bloomers the rest of the way off your body.
 Head sliding sideways Hyunjin reappears in your line of sight. Lit by the streams of the setting sun his body line is thin and muscular, elegant as ever. Even as he slowly strokes his already aroused member he looks beautiful. Lips parted slightly and eyes locked with yours, his thighs meet the foot of the bed and hault him just barely within your fingertips reach. Eyes unable to tear themselves from him, you feel your thighs press into Felix’s shoulders as he pulls your pelvis to the edge of the bed. Chest tensing, eyes blown wide, you gasp as his lips tickle your inner thigh. For a moment your eyes cross as Hyunjin laughs, a series of three short airy hums.  “Focus on me, darling,” he purrs, “you know how much I love to see your pretty expressions.”  With a breathy “yes, sir,” you nod shortly as he approaches you, knees cushioned by the billowing fabrics of the bed. Hungry for him you drop your jaw and let your tongue loll, an open invitation he readily takes. Supporting at the back of your neck, he coos as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, barely pursing your lips as you kiss your way down. Hyunjin shudders when you finally wrap yourself fully around him and you preen. Seeing the Prince in such a vulnerable state so suddenly grows the fire in your belly, motivates you to go further, screwing your eyes open to watch him as you struggle to take the full length into your throat, tears burning and blurring your vision.  “Do you trust your future king?” Hyunjins long fingers trace your throat.  Slurping you nod.  “If it’s too much tap my thigh twice, if it’s urgent, pinch. I don’t care if it hurts me, you have my permission.” Carefully he lays your head down, placing his thighs on either side of your head. As he takes your mouth you feel him bump against a resistance in your throat. Trying your best to force past it, you find the position puts you at his complete mercy, trapped between him and Felix. You gag softly as he attempts a second push. “Slowly darling, breathe through your nose. Trust me.” Delicate strokes of his fingers down the column of your throat calm you. With a full breath in through your nose he pops past the barrier with a hiss, nearly immediately retreating fully, strands of spit still connecting the two of you. With tender touches he swipes the mess from your jaw, “you did so well darling. See how easy it is when you trust me?”  “Yes sir,” you pant.  Palm pressed to the side of your neck he fucks your throat, watching the swell of your neck as he fills you, whining with each flex of your muscle eager to gulp him down. “Just like that, keep breathing darling. Breath calms-fuck- just a little more.”  Pacing your breathing is a difficult task with Felix taking every opportunity to distract you. His breath is so warm on your inner thighs as he teases you, lips just barely brushing over your slit as he passes from leg to leg as if one would get jealous of the other if lingered on for too long. Finally he sees you’re wound up enough to settle at your mound. Tongue dipping between your folds and tracing you slowly, the warms of his mouth meshes with the heat of your sex. Hands tangling into the sheets as you try to ground yourself as he hones in on your clit. Flicking and swirling his taut muscle around it you hardly notice the almost inaudible whines that escape your open mouth. His hands grasp your thighs to him as your hips kick upwards, still speared between the two of them.
 As you feel Hyunjins thighs tense below your palms he withdraws with a groan. “He’s doing a good job right? Your Prince is treating you well?” Hyunjin goads. “Tell him, tell him how good he is.”  “Sir, so good,” you croak, barely able to crane over your body to look down at the source of pleasure.  “Which sir?” Hyunjin smirks, “we’re both your sir. So tell me who.”  “Prince Felix, sir,” you stutter and catch on his name. Your fingers desperately want to scramble and tug on the mop of blonde hair between your legs. Groaning, you gather the sheets into your fists to satiate your need. “It feels so good. God you feel so good.” Endorphins flood your body, bursting from your center out to your fingertips like white hot fire. Your whines reach a fever pitch, warbling as your body shakes. “Sir, Felix, sir,” panic rises in your throat as another wave quickly hits. Your abs tense and brace down, the walls of your sex clenching and pulsing around nothing. His hand joins his mouth, fingers short and small but strong to make up for it, quickly fucking into you as tears prick the corners of your eyes. The world spins around you, spiraling into intense pleasure. A wash of relief passes over you, in you, through you, sensitizing you. You gulp air down, lungs hiccupping it back in small bursts as you tremble and twist and cry, senses lost to the world.  “Enough, we don’t want to break her,” Hyunjin pulls Felix back from you by his mane of hair, his mouth and jaw glisten with a mess of spit and your juices.  Felix pants and snarls like a man possessed, “wanted to see how many she could take.” Shaking himself of Hyunjin, he runs his hands along your legs, still vibrating with exhaustion.  “Wanted to spoil our present. Otherwise how will she know how sweet she tastes?”  “Go show her then,” Hyunjin clambers between your thighs, practically forcing Felix from his post. Cock in hand he teases your hole, gathering the mess to lubricate himself. He fills you with one steady thrust, stretching out to accommodate him with a groan. You moan as his hips push harder into the backs of your thighs, the head of his cock stirring your guts.  Looking up at Felix dreamily he seems like the son of Apollo rather than a son of a man, shining back at you as fiercely as the sun. “You missed this didn’t you doll?” He leans down lips to yours, catching your reply before you manage to voice it, stealing a messy kiss as you moan. You taste more him than yourself, the tanin of the red wine still clinging to his tongue, as juicy and ripe as the heat of the august sun had baked the grapes that made it.  “Yes sir,” you manage to groan, open mouth pressed to his shoulder as Hyunjin leans his whole body weight forward into your thighs.  “Good. Maybe next time you won’t steal yourself so selfishly from us.” Hyunjin hisses as his hips pull back, pulling a groan from you as well. Your hands scramble indecisively, the need to grab him and fill yourself once again fighting your training to treat each man with white gloves. You can hear Felix chuckle at your side, pitch starting low and climbing slightly. He’s finally fully undressed himself, each groove of his musculature seemingly cut from glass, his undertones contrasting with Hyunjin’s, both luminescent in the low light. Laid bare like this their different lineages could not be more clear despite their joint upbringing.  “You want to be ours, right?” Felix sweeps some of the collected strands of hair from your brow. “We won’t play with a toy that doesn’t want to be played with.”  “Sir- I want- I want-” your reply emerges in quick gasps as Hyunjin’s hips roll into you over and over, driving you back into the center of the mattress.  “You want? Hyune- are you not fucking her hard enough? She wants.” Felix smirks at the elder.  Hyunjin grunts and withdraws from you, clearly annoyed by Felix’s goading.  Grabbing your hips he shoves you onto your side and then stomach, his grip leaving indents in your soft flesh. You scramble to accommodate his wordless directions, pushing your knees below you as he pulls your ass up, presenting to him lewdly. Hasty and animalistic he pushes back into you easily, new angle and new sense of fullness. Wobbling with each thrust you try to prop your chest up and away from the bed, arms knocking out from under you, defeated.  Back arched fully up you gasp into the mattress, wailing and moaning muffled in the down, drool soaking into the sheets.  “Who is fucking you dumb?”  “Sir, Prince Hyunjin sir.” You yelp against the damp fabric.  “What is my name?”   A wail escapes your mouth instead of a name.  Hyunjin leans over, hips still pistoning against you. With a shaky growl he commands you,“say my name.”  It’s like a dam in you breaks fully, flooding the air with words and his member with your arousal. “Hyunjin! Hyunjin,” you scream without care for formalities, over and over until his name becomes a sound rather than a proper noun.  “Hold her up for me.” You vaguely hear Felix ask Hyunjin before a tug at your arms pulls you up. Tension keeping you jutting outward with your back bowed, your shoulder joints burn as he silences you with his cock, lodged between your lips. No coaxing, no slow pace, just a man chasing a means to an end. He’s thicker than you remember, mouth straining to accommodate him comfortably as the spongy head of his cock hits your barrier, briefly popping past it as Hyunjin bounces you forward. Completely at their mercy, you feel like you’re floating between them, pinging back at forth, never left wanting for long. Your tongue can feel the seizing of Felix’s impending climax as he stuffs himself down your throat, a whimper catching in his throat as he unloads before stumbling backwards as spit and cum burble and overflow from your lips. Hyunjin follows closely, collapsing forward and warmth rushes to fill your core.  This must be the ecstasy of death, you think, every fiber of your being reverberating uncontrollably beneath your lover as he sucks small kisses possessively into the nape of your neck. You aren’t sure if the heartbeat you feel thudding is yours or his.  “She’ll stay here.”  “With us?”  “With us.”
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Part three eventually. I have an outline its just everything in between. Probably not for a while though ya’ll i’m sorry. I’m going to have a few Ateez centric pieces out because June is theeeee month for comebacks.
In the meantime my sorta updated masterlist is here
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flowersandbigteeth · 2 years
Note
Hey sorry if this isn't your sorta thing but could I request a dragon that collects humans with special magic powers falling for reader?
I love this idea! Sorry it took me so long to get to this ^_^'
Dragon (Felix) x female reader
Word Count: 3k
W: yandere dragon behavior , some threats of violence, sfw fluff
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Felix had dedicated his life to hunting the most miraculous humans, the most beautiful, the most powerful, the strongest, and the most magically inclined. He was fascinated with what made them tick. Humans shouldn’t naturally have magic. In his personal opinion, it was a bit of an abomination actually. Humans were meant to be servile, toiling around in the dirt with no wings or fins or fangs to protect them. That they should be dominated seemed to simply be the nature of things and he had no intention of fussing with that. 
No, really, what he had was morbid curiosity and perhaps nothing else to do. Dragons' lives were very long and they had few natural enemies. Felix was a scholar at heart and something drew him to collecting. Over the years he’d captured and tamed hundreds of powerful, talented humans. Some cooperated with his experiments and lived in relative luxury in his castle; others had far too much pride, in his opinion, and had to be locked away for everyone’s safety. 
Each one was more miraculous than the next. One man could draw fire from his hands like a fire fairy, but tests revealed he had no fire fairy blood in him. Another person could screech so loud they could break glass. Their vocal chords were fascinating to study. It seemed to be a totally natural phenomenon. 
Still, after years and years of collecting he hadn’t found…perhaps the human he was looking for? Something still drew him to scouring the planet looking for…something. So naturally, he was quite surprised when he found you simpering and sniffling in a corner of his castle with tears on your face. You were just a maid. You had no special magic, you weren’t exceptionally beautiful, and your biggest talent was that you could make a boiled egg better than any of the other kitchen staff. It came out perfect every time with your technique, but that was it. 
“Why are you crying little one?” he asked, perhaps because he was bored. Otherwise he would have probably walked right past you. He’d never noticed you before, though you’d worked in the kitchen peeling potatoes and boiling eggs for a few years. He’d had your famous boiled egg for breakfast every day for a long time without even knowing who cooked it. 
You lived in a small cottage near the castle and came to work in the kitchen every day from sunrise until everyone had their last meal. Then you hurried home to the safety and comfort of your old hay mattress. 
Our eyes filled with terror when you realised the master of the castle was talking to you and you quickly righted yourself, trying to rub the soup one of his talented humans had dumped on your head off of your face. 
“I-it’s n-nothing my lord,” you stammered, trying to slip past his huge form. 
He was just scraping nine feet tall, not including the silver horns emerging from his head. You tried not to let your eyes linger on the glittering scales that clung just above his cheekbones and along his jaw or his silver eyes. 
“Stop right there,” he said, grabbing your shoulder with his big hand and swinging you back around to face him, “answer honestly when your master asks you a question.” 
You blushed, unsure what to say. You didn’t want to tattle on Mira, the talented human who’d waited too long to eat her soup and threw a tantrum when it was cold hours after you’d delivered it. She was far more important and interesting than you, despite her temper. She could lift objects with her mind. You could boil an egg. You were not the same. 
“I need to get Miss Mira more soup,” you decided to say, ignoring the glob of meat that wetly slid out of your hair and smacked on the floor with a splat. 
“I-I’ll clean that up, right away,” you assured him, bending to wipe up the mess you were making with your apron. 
The dragon frowned looking you up and down and tapping his chin. There was something about you that he liked. He wasn’t exactly sure what. You certainly weren’t remarkable and you looked a mess covered in red soup with bits of vegetables and meat in your hair. Regardless, he was curious about you. 
“Do you have running water at home?” he asked. 
You blinked and looked up at him for a moment, before catching yourself and looking back down to the soupy footprints you were trying to mop up. 
“Erm…no my lord, only the castle and the merchant’s manors have piped water,” you explained. 
You were not looking forward to hauling bucket after bucket of cold water to your bath to wash all of the food out of your hair when you got home. Only the rich could afford the metal pipes and enchantments that would bring warm water indoors. 
He grunted down at you.
“Come with me,” he said simply, turning on his heels and marching down the hall. 
You didn’t know what else to do, he was your boss, so you shuffled after him. 
“My lord, perhaps I should get another maid to help you,” you said apprehensively as he led you into his personal quarters and bathroom. You hovered uncomfortably at the door, wondering what he wanted you to clean while covered in soup. You were making an even bigger mess wandering around the castle dripping wet. 
“Don’t move an inch,” he said over his shoulder as he started the tap. 
You started to tremble, unsure what was going on. This was highly unusual, working in the kitchen you hardly ever saw the master. Nothing good could come of him bringing you to his personal quarters. You had no romantic illusions about some noble lord taking an interest in you. You’d seen maid after maid chewed up by the male talents Lord Felix had in the castle. They went through them and then tossed them away like toys, leaving them penniless, without a job, and heartbroken. All you wanted to do was come to work, do your work, and go home without being molested or covered in soup. 
You watched him pour a sweet smelling soap into the water that reminded you of the scent of peaches and made lots of bubbles. 
“Go ahead and undress,” he said, as he sprinkled some kind of salt as well. 
“No, my lord,” you said with fleeting confidence. 
You were an employee, not a toy. 
He turned to you and his eyebrows went up. He was handsome and very large, all things that were attractive to you, but you had some shame. 
“No?” he repeated, scoffing. 
“I don’t feel comfortable…” you said, your confidence waning. 
“You’d rather spend the day covered in stew?” he asked. 
You plucked a thread at your dress. 
“No, my lord, but…” 
He snickered at you as he crossed the room, looming over you and yanking the wool dress you were wearing over your head before you had a chance to fight him. 
“How do you plan on stopping me?” he teased you as he pulled the chaste white panties you were wearing off and removing the bra you had on. 
He wasn’t rough with you, but he also didn’t hide his strength, pinning you easily with one hand while the other worked on removing your clothes. 
“My lord!” you sputtered, “this isn’t fair!” 
He shrugged as he picked you up like you were just a kitten and carried you over to the bath water. 
“It really isn’t,” he agreed as he gently set you in it, “but such is the way of the world.” 
To your dismay he unceremoniously dumped a pitcher of warm clean water on your head so instead of fighting him you were busy wiping water out of your eyes. 
“That’s better isn’t it?” he asked drizzling a swirl of shampoo in your hair. 
This was probably the first time in your life you’d been fully immersed in warm water except maybe when you were an infant and the sensation was hard to pass up. It was warmer than you could ever get your water at home with just hot rocks heated in the fireplace and your skin felt smooth and soft from the salts he’d added. 
If you wanted to argue, you didn’t have a chance, because he was quickly scrubbing his large, strong fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp.
“Mmmm,” you hummed reflexively and he smiled, gathering a comb up to run it through your hair and remove all of the bits of vegetable matter. 
“So have I softened you up enough to tell me what happened?” he asked, as you let your eyes shut, leaning back against the smooth back of the tub. 
You tender bits were all covered in piles of bubbles, which eased your shyness. 
“Miss Mira just has a bit of a temper,” you mumbled in total bliss, the gentle scrape of the blunt comb on your skull relaxing and soothing years of built up tension, “nothing to be concerned with, my lord.” 
He chuckled at how a simple bath relaxed you and loosened your tongue, reminding himself to deal with Mira later. He didn’t tolerate badly behaved humans under his care, especially now that he’d taken an interest in you. No one would be dumping any food on you again under his watch. When he’d gotten you satisfactorily clean he pulled you from the tub and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, ringing the bell for another maid. When she arrived her eyes widened as she saw the condition you were in, shooting you a questioning look when Felix wasn’t looking. You shot back at her with a shrug and a pleading look indicating you had no idea what was going on either and begging her to do something, though neither of you had any idea what she could possibly do to save you. 
“Bring…” he glanced down at you to get your name but you kept your mouth shut tight. 
Frightened of angering the lord and to your dismay the other maid gave him your name quickly. He smiled. 
“Bring (Y/N) another dress, something pretty,” he said. 
“Yes, my lord,” she replied, tossing you an apologetic glance before she disappeared. 
“Now,” he mused, looking back at you with his finger tapping his chin, “there’s something about you…”
He lifted a lock of your hair, before smoothing his clawed fingers over the column of your neck. 
“You seem to be a normal human,” he murmured, “but I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of you…even for a moment, they are always drawn back to you…do you know why that is (Y/N)?” 
You quickly shook your head because you really had no idea. He picked you up and you stiffened in his arms as he carried you to his laboratory. Terrified, you tried to fight him when your eyes grazed over the bottled body parts he had lining his shelves. Of course it was hopeless, he was far too big and strong. 
“Don’t be so worried, little one,” he chuckled, “I have no intention of dissecting you. I’m only going to run a few tests.” 
He set you on his work table before producing what looked like a doctor’s kit. While you shivered in terror, odd drops of water dripping from your hair down your neck, he took some of your blood and tapped various pressure points with some kind of tool to stimulate your reflexes. 
You watched him hum and wrinkle his brow as he tried to sort out what made you so special, examining your blood sample under a microscope only to find your cells were perfectly average human cells. 
“I assure you, my lord, I’m just a normal human. There really is nothing unique about me,” you said when you’d calmed down enough to catch your breath. 
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he informed you curtly and you shrank back. 
There was a knock at the door and the maid appeared with a dress in your size. He took the dress, waving her away and carefully pulled it over your head, letting you slide your arms through the sleeves. To your surprise he very adeptly braided your hair and secured it with a pin.
“Follow me,” he said, pulling you down off of the high counter you were sitting on, onto the floor. 
He took you to the male’s quarters and with a shout gathered all of the male special humans from whatever they were occupying themselves with. 
“What do you think of this human?” he asked them, pointing to you. 
Most of them looked bored, while a few looked a bit interested. 
“She’s just a pretty girl,” one of them said. 
“Not that pretty,” another commented. 
“Yeah, she’s not really my type,” someone else said. 
“I think she’s pretty, in a sort of farm girl type of way…” someone piped in. 
“Hmm,” Felix said, pushing you behind him and considering the data he’d collected. 
For some reason, he didn’t like these males looking at you, assessing your attributes, even though that’s what he’d asked them to do. 
He led you back to his laboratory more confused than before. The males of the castle seemed to think you were a normal human. You didn’t have any sort of excessive seductive powers. So why did his heart flutter when his eyes met yours? Why were his hands sweating like he was just a schoolboy? While the other men seemed relatively ambivalent, when he looked at you, your skin seemed to glow and your smile made him want to press his lips against yours. 
“My lord, don’t you think I should get back to work?” you asked, hoping his curiosity was satisfied and he would let you go. 
“No,” he said, “you’re not to leave my side. I’m adding you to my collection.” 
You gasped. You did not want to be one of your master’s collection. You were a maid, an employee, not a doll! You didn’t know what else to do, so you ran…or at least tried to run, but you only got a few steps before he hauled you back to him. 
He pulled you up to his eye level and glared at you with his reptilian, golden eyes. 
“Do NOT do that again,” he snarled, curls of smoke leaking from his nose. 
The idea of you running away from him was infuriating. You were his. He was sure of it. 
“I don’t know what it is about you, but you will not get away from me. Try to run again and I will remove your legs,” he snapped. 
You nodded your head quickly, trembling in his arms. 
Pleased that you understood, he led you to the other side of the castle to find Mira. 
“Oh, hello Master Felix,” she cooed when he entered her room, batting her eyelashes at him, “I’m so pleased you’ve come to see me.” 
Her eyes focused on you in your fine dress and she frowned. 
“What’s she doing here, bringing me more cold soup?” 
Felix snorted and a small flame burst from his nose. 
“I’ve found a new use for your talents, Mira,” he informed her, “from now on you will work in the laundry washing linens…I think your skills can be useful to the other maids.”
He rang the bell in her room and a different maid appeared, her eyes popping at your dress. You gave her another confused shrug, before she had to turn her attention to your Master. 
“Bring Mira a maid’s uniform,” he spat and she hurried away. 
“You can’t be serious!” Mira shouted, various items in her room levitating around her, “I’m not a maid! I’m special!” 
“(Y/N) is special,” he said, glancing down at you, then back up at her, “you are nothing more than a biological anomaly that apparently needs to be put to more productive use.” 
While Mira shot daggers at you with her eyes, you tried to return her look with the most contrite, sympathetic face possible, but that didn’t stop the shower of hair brushes, hair pins, and makeup that came sailing in your direction with murderous intent. 
With a wave of his hand the sundry items dropped to the floor with a clatter, just before they reached you. 
“Try that again and you’ll be dissected and pickled,” Felix growled. 
Mira blanched and the maid returned with one of the plain wool dresses you used to wear. 
“Change and report to the laundry, the other maids will tell you what to do…if I see your face out of the laundry again there will be consequences,” he hissed, scooping you up like you were a treasure and carrying you from the room. 
You blinked up at Felix, feeling bad for Mira. You were an employee, you had the ability to go home, but Mira was a captive…and now a servant. 
“My lord,” you gasped, “are you sure you’re not being too harsh? I’m really nothing special…” 
His eyes sparkled and he chuckled at you. 
“That’s where you are wrong, my darling,” he said, “I think you are the human I’ve been looking for.” 
“Looking for?” you murmured. 
“Since I started this project of collecting humans I could never find the one that would sate my hunger for searching…but with you in my arms…I seem to have lost the desire to collect them at all…I would rather spend my time studying you.” 
You blinked at him and swallowed thickly. 
“I am not a doll…or a biological anomaly or whatever you said,” you pouted, using your last bit of pluck. 
He turned your face to him and his golden eyes searched yours. 
“That you are not,” he admitted with a smile that revealed his sharp teeth, “but you are still mine and I have no intention of letting you go. From now on you will be my companion.” 
You blanched. His companion? You weren’t sure you liked the sound of that, but there was nothing to be done about it if you wanted to keep your legs attached to your body. 
“Now,” he said with a sigh, smoothing his fingers over your soft cheek, “let’s have a nice day, shall we? No more silly attempts to escape and no more bowls of soup on your head, hmm?” 
Your heart fluttered a bit, you were unsure if it was from fear or interest, but you accepted his words with a nod as he carried you off to the garden to enjoy the sunshine and your new life.
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muddyorbsblr · 1 year
Text
feels like mine pt1
See my full list of works here!
Summary: You wake up in a bed that isn't your own, living a life that seems to be pulled straight out of your wildest dreams
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: 18+ | mentions of death; slight gaslighting (?) [let me know if I missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: everything is not what it seems; twist at the end
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Your eyes squinted to adjust to the brightness of your bedroom awash with the morning sun. Looks like Mother Nature chose to be a little too chipper this morning and tried to blind you with its rays shining straight into your room.
You rose from your bed, your hands flopping on to the ultra soft comforter that sunk beneath the pressure.
Weird, you thought to yourself. I don't remember checking in to a hotel, and God knows my bed isn't this soft. You slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and alarm bells immediately ringing loud in your head when you looked down at the pristine white sheets.
"This isn't my bed," you said aloud, hopping down from the mattress and assessing your body, ensuring that you were free to move and your limbs weren't tied down in some capacity keeping you captive in what would have been a bizarrely cozy looking prison. You assessed your clothes next; mainly to see if you were even wearing any, your brows shooting to your hairline when your hands touched a lush satiny fabric covering your curves. "These aren't my clothes."
You rushed over to a mirror situated on a door that you assumed was a closet, your confusion growing by the second when you saw that the reflection looking back at you was…yourself. Exactly as you were last night before you went to bed, only clad in a navy blue nightie that looked like it cost over a week's pay. And wearing a ring that probably cost your soul.
The items on the nightstand by the side of the bed you'd woken up on raised even more questions. A black leather-bound journal with a gold 'H' pressed on the spine, a fountain pen, a laptop, a tablet, and a Kindle Oasis. An almost exact match to the items on the nightstand that you knew by heart, but each item was a more luxurious variant. For one, you wouldn't in your right mind ever buy yourself a Kindle Oasis. Or an S.T. Duponte fountain pen.
On the opposite nightstand were a stack of papers bound together with brass fasteners and a pair of reading glasses with a grade that moderately blurred your vision when you held it close to your eyes. You decided against looking at the contents of the book-bound papers in case there was anything confidential you weren't meant to glimpse in its contents.
You checked on the door next, seeing if it was locked from the outside. It wasn't.
You stepped out of the bedroom, assessing your surroundings to find any semblance of information that would tell you where you were and why you were here, only to grumble out of sheer frustration, "This isn't my apartment." To start with, apartments didn't have stairs. And your place didn't have nearly this much windows.
"Did I…shift?" Your voice softly echoed off the walls, staring in disbelief at the framed picture before you. Your hair and makeup impeccably done, a flower tiara delicately put in place at the top of your head, clad in a downright whimsical wedding dress and smiling brilliantly at the groom whose back was turned to the camera, your only hint at who he was being broad shoulders and brown slightly curly hair.
The unmistakable sound of vegetables being cut led you down the stairs and into the kitchen, desperately hoping it would lead you to who your mystery husband was and maybe start making some sense of this downright crazy predicament.
But catching a glimpse of the well over 6-foot lean frame dressed a white button-down shirt tucked into black dress pants that put a way too familiar butt on proud display had you itching to wake up because this was most definitely a concerningly vivid dream.
That is definitely not my husband.
No way on God's green Earth were you married to Tom Hiddleston. This just went from bizarre to downright impossible.
"Good morning, sweetheart," he greeted you in that low timbre that had your knees buckling, setting aside his task at hand and removing his apron before walking over to you.
"Hi…" you answered him, voice wavering. Before you could speak another word, he framed your face in his hands, thumbs softly running across your cheekbones, and then pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. "What're you--"
"We finished filming early," he answered, words murmured against your lips. "I caught an earlier flight so I could see you sooner. Oh I've missed you so much." He pressed his lips to yours again. "My darling wife."
Okay, I definitely shifted. This body you may have woken up in had your face, and probably your maiden name…but this wasn't your life. You were occupying space meant for someone else. Another Y/N.
"Tom, I think I have to--"
"Whatever it is can wait." He kissed you again, this time he pressed against you a little harder, your heart beating wildly in your chest when you felt a light, tentative lick to your bottom lip. "Just let me hold you a little while longer." He wrapped his arm around the small of your back, cradling your head with his other hand as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, sighing in contentment.
You knew you were seconds away from abandoning all your plans to try and get him to listen when he started pressing numerous open-mouthed kisses along your neck, your whole body growing weak when he started nipping and licking at the skin. "Please it's important. I don't think I'm supposed to be--"
The feel of him groaning into your skin made your knees give out, making him hold you tighter against him. He walked you backwards until your back pressed against the wall, your breathing labored as he kissed along the expanse of skin exposed to him by your negligee.
When his kisses started traveling south and he pressed his lips to the swell of your breast, you knew you had to get your words out before you gave in and let him have his way with you, however far that may be. "I'm not supposed to be here," you blurted out, pressing your palms to his shoulders and inwardly cursing at yourself for making him stop. "I know that I might sound like I'm not making any sense but…I think I shifted realities…? It's bizarre to me because I never actually succeeded until now but the point is--"
"Sweetheart, slow down." He began to rub his hands up and down your arms, calming you down some within seconds and once again making you question this reality. And how he knew what to do when you began to ramble and spiral in your own thoughts. "You say you're not supposed to be here. Where do you think you should be? Tell me what you know and perhaps I can help from there."
"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm a software engineer in the middle of a career shift. Last night I went to sleep in a one bedroom apartment in Anaheim. I was no one to you. At most a faceless name that sings your praises online. Definitely not…" You waved your hand in a sweeping gesture across your surroundings. "This," you finished, your breath hitching in the back of your throat when you caught sight of his expression, eyes shining with tears that were seconds away from falling down his cheeks.
"What a bleak life," he breathed out, pressing his lips to your forehead as he pulled you into an embrace. "I can't imagine having to live in a world where I didn't know you. Didn't love you." He kissed your temple. "Thank God it was just a dream."
"A dr--A dream?" you sputtered, confusion overcoming your thoughts. Surely it wasn't that simple. That easily explained. You could remember in vivid detail the code you worked on last night, the bumpy bus ride on the way back to your apartment. The last story you read written by your friends online before you finally laid your head on your pillow and succumbed to an exhausted slumber.
Something about Tom's character on The Hollow Crown and barn sex before he was to face off against the Dauphin of France.
"Yes, my love. Nothing but an awful vivid dream," he reassured you, soothing you with the low velvety tone of his voice, partnered with the kisses he was softly peppering all over your face before stopping at the corner of your mouth. "Your name is Y/N Hiddleston. We've been together for five years, and you gave me the unique honor of becoming your husband less than a year ago. You were a software engineer amidst a career change when I met you all those years ago, and you've come so far since then. You have amazed me at every turn, and it's been a privilege to witness all that you've done. And all that you will continue to do." He captured your lips in a tender kiss, making you melt into his arms as you crossed your hands behind his neck, allowing him to pull you closer. "You just need a few minutes to readjust after waking up. Everything will come back to you soon enough. And any details that don't return to you I'll happily fill those blanks in."
It was almost like the protests that remained in your mind got muffled at his assurances. He spoke about you with such conviction and fondness and love that it made it sound beyond reproach. All that remained was the faintest murmur of doubt that you quickly recognized as those few hours of disbelief you would go through after waking up from a particularly vivid dream, much like those ones you had back in college where you mourned the loss of your best friend and you internally panicked for hours until he walked into the classroom looking every bit as alive as he had the day before.
"Just a dream…" You tested the words on your tongue, the explanation steadily becoming more and more palatable than your initial theory of successfully shifting. Your eyes met Tom's again. "Sorry I…kinda freaked out back there--"
He pressed a delicate kiss to your lips to stop you. "There's no need for apologies, sweetheart. You were disoriented, and I'm grateful you confided in me that you were instead of holding it all in." He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, the gesture bringing a smile to your face and causing a small giggle to escape your lips. "How about you head back upstairs and get ready for the day, and I'll finish whipping up breakfast?"
"That…sounds like a good idea," you agreed, unable to keep the smile off your face even as he kissed you again. "I'll go take a shower and then…I'll be back down here in twenty minutes?"
Tom loosened his hold on you, hands smoothing down your sides before he took a step back so you could make your way up the stairs. Before you passed him, he took your hand in his to call your attention again, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to each of your knuckles. "I love you," he whispered against your skin.
"I love you, too," you said back, biting your lip as you gave him a smile before heading back up the stairs, your doubts calmed and your panic from earlier subsiding, allowing you to simply look around the house and appreciate the beauty and joy that your life granted you in stark contrast to last night's dream.
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Just as you stepped on to the top landing of the stairs, a flash of green glinted at the corner of Tom's eye, diverting his attention to the visitor in the kitchen.
"She is a perceptive one, your mortal," Loki mused, staring down at the ingredients on the cutting board. "A part of her recognizes that she is no longer within her universe. That part could linger…fester, even. Are you truly certain you wish to continue down this path? To risk her finding out the truth and resenting you from stealing her away from her life--"
"What's the alternative, then?" Tom snapped, gripping the countertop so hard his knuckles were going white, hot tears finally falling from his eyes. "Go on the rest of my days without my wife? Let her go back to a world where she said it herself, she's no one to me?"
Loki let out a sigh, taking a few steps towards the door to the patio, the tension and frustration evident in his stance. "She did not deserve the life she was designed for, on that I do agree. But it will take time for her to fully acclimate to this new universe, if you truly wish to keep her here. And you must accept that no matter what you do, she may never fully fill the space that your late wife left behind."
Tom's eyes burned with more tears, indignation and grief making his heart ache even worse at the memory of you -- that is, the you that he lost not even three days ago. "I know that," he said through gritted teeth. "What of the people who heard news of her passing? The people on set who saw me when I got the call? They're going to ask her questions when they see her alive and well. Questions she won't be able to answer."
The god simply waved a hand dismissively. "Simple memory spell. Their recollection of events will simply be altered wherein they recall you receiving a call and you needed to leave and halt production to ensure her safety, not see to her funeral. Her record at the hospital has been expunged. Any and all evidence that suggests that the Y/N Hiddleston of his universe is no longer with us has ceased to exist."
"Thank you," he choked out, walking up to the god and extending a hand.
"Of course. You deserved not the life you'd planned with your wife taken so violently." Loki took your husband's hand in a firm shake. "Now, I know it may not be my place to tell you what you should be doing at this moment. But from where I stand, you have just been reunited with your wife. If you're open to suggestions, I would recommend putting the apron down, going upstairs, and simply enjoying the life that has been returned to you. Breakfast can wait."
With those words, Loki disappeared in a flash of green right as Tom turned around and headed up the stairs in your direction, heeding the god's advice.
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A/N: Something tells me that when I told y'all there's a Centrum Ad Hiddles story coming your way, y'all probably didn't expect this…and to be honest I didn't think I was even gonna make a Centrum Ad Hiddles story, let alone one that took this direction. 😳👀 I hope you like it though, slightly dark twist and all 😅💖
‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989
Hiddles taglist: @spooky1980
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shitouttabuck · 1 year
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oh my god nina!!! 8 for the bedsharing prompts if it takes your fancy <33
thank you sweet peach this scratched an itch !!!
bed-sharing prompts: whispering “Oh, you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up.”
Eddie’s not old—he’s not even 30, despite the near-constant jokes about his senior citizen-isms he seems incapable of shaking. And he wouldn’t even say he’s a man of creature comforts. He just likes familiarity, and routine, and his own goddamn bed.
Quarantine has brought a lot of change: being away from Chris, living in a single-occupancy apartment with three other people, and sharing a bed with all six-foot-two of Evan Buckley.
Currently, this means waking up at some wretched hour and squinting in the moonlight filtering in through half-open blinds, because the aforementioned best friend has stolen Eddie’s pillow from right under his head yet again.
Eddie groans quietly, easing his neck out of the crick it’s cramped in. He glares at the enormous lump snoring serenely beside him and pats the mattress blindly for his pillow. Eyes adjusting to the dark, he’s greeted by the same sight he’s woken to at ungodly hours thrice this month already: Buck with his gigantic thieving arms wrapped happily around Eddie’s goddamn pillow as he clutches it to his chest, dead to the world.
“Fuck’s sake,” Eddie mutters, reaching out and tugging the end of the pillowcase to no avail. Buck’s vice-grip doesn’t falter even in sleep. Eddie’s usually able to coax it out of his grasp without waking him, but it takes a minute, and their last shift had been a full-body workout from hell, and Eddie just wants to go the fuck back to sleep with a single measly pillow supporting his exhausted head. Surely that’s not too decadent a luxury to expect.
He tugs again, harder and meaner than he normally would. The pillow inches out of Buck’s hold, and Eddie grabs a firmer handful to yank it away, grunting triumphantly when it pops free.
“Hrmmph,” Buck grumbles, crease appearing between his eyebrows. Eddie stills, holding his breath as he gauges Buck’s proximity to consciousness. He thinks he’s in the clear, but then Buck murmurs unhappily and rolls ever-so-slightly towards Eddie.
“S’your turn to be th’ li’l spoon,” he slurs, and Eddie freezes even further. “’M th’ big spoon t’night.” He pats half-heartedly at the mattress between him and Eddie, jaw going slack again after a few seconds.
Eddie grins, just barely containing the snort that bubbles up at Buck’s sleep-talking. There’s enough distance from Ali and even Abby, post-train debacle, that means he can wring weeks’ worth of teasing out of this. Whichever one of them it is Buck’s dreaming of, Eddie thinks multiple nights of interrupted sleep allow him a little good-natured—if merciless—ribbing.
He shifts onto his back, shoving the pillow under his head and shutting his eyes with a sigh, but the movement has Buck mumbling again. His face is mashed into his own pillow, words barely intelligible when he says, “Y’re littler than me. C’mon, lemme be big spoon.”
The snort sneaks out of Eddie then, just a bit. He barely knew either woman, but he can’t quite picture them indulging Buck in this line of conversation. It’s—sweet, if deeply mortifying for Buck himself to know anyone else has heard it.
Buck snuffles discontentedly, forehead scrunching as he reaches out in search of the pillow, still asleep.
“Oh, you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up,” Eddie whispers, wondering if there’s more entertainment about to be provided and if it’s worth getting up to unplug his phone and catch the tail end of this on video.
“Urgh,” asleep-Buck responds, patting the bed a little more insistently when he’s unsuccessful in his pillow-retrieval endeavours. “Wh’re—c’mere. Eddie. Y’re li’l spoon.”
This time when Eddie freezes, it’s such a sudden locking of every joint in his body that his neck cricks in the opposite direction. He barely feels it, singularly focused on Buck’s latest garbled complaint, because—is Buck awake? Is Buck dreaming about him?
He’s frozen so still he doesn’t realise Buck’s questing hand is now well in range of Eddie himself, and he jolts back into his body when Buck’s strong, calloused fingers wrap around his wrist.
“C’me back,” he whines, tugging at Eddie while shuffling closer at the same time. Eddie holds himself carefully still, hardly daring to breathe as Buck slowly but surely plasters his long, long body along Eddie’s side, hitching one leg over Eddie’s thigh before flinging an arm across his torso and dragging him nearer.
“Mm,” he hums, brow smoothing out. His cheek rests on Eddie’s shoulder, face smushed but seemingly satisfied. Eddie’s arm is trapped between his own side and Buck’s stomach, and he worms it under Buck’s body almost on autopilot, more to get comfortable than anything else. This leaves him basically cradling Buck to him, and Buck gives one final happy grunt before burrowing his face into Eddie’s neck and going limp, a dead weight over Eddie’s right side.
Eddie makes his fingers relax where they’re clutching the back of Buck’s t-shirt. This is—fine. Normal and fine. So Buck isn’t dreaming about cuddling an ex-girlfriend, he’s dreaming about holding Eddie. They’ve been living out of each other’s pockets more than usual recently, leaning on each other a little heavier through a global pandemic and missing Christopher. Eddie’s told himself it’s because of constant proximity, and maybe it is, but whatever the reason, if Buck’s subconscious is embracing that vulnerability in this way, that’s fine. He’s an affectionate guy, and while it’s relatively new for Eddie to be on the receiving end of that from another man, he’s not one to shy away because of someone else’s archaic ideas of masculinity.
And—hold on. Y’re littler than me? Was that what Buck said? Eddie huffs indignantly, and then huffs again for different reasons, feeling his cheeks heat. He doesn’t know why, but he pulls Buck a little closer.
It’s still normal and fine, he finds, turning his head to press his nose into Buck’s curls. That surprises him a little, that there’s no freak-out of any kind accompanying—whatever this is. Buck smells like vanilla, because he used Chim’s fancy shampoo that’s actually Maddie’s fancy shampoo because both of them are missing her something fierce, and he’s definitely drooling onto Eddie’s neck, and now that he’s not sleep-talking he’s back to snoring like a motorcycle, and Eddie’s slipping under before he can marvel any more at just how normal and fine it all is.
When the moonlight is swapped for sunlight, Eddie stirs to Chim singing along to radio in the kitchen downstairs. Buck blinks awake right alongside him, cheek imprinted with creases from Eddie’s collar and turning pink as he hastily peels himself away.
“Oh, um, sorry,” he says, voice rough with sleep. He contorts his body in surprise trying to roll off Eddie’s arm. “Did I—sorry, Eds.”
Eddie works his arm back under Buck, easy and deliberate. “S’fine,” he yawns. “It was my turn to be the little spoon.”
In his peripheral vision, Buck turns a brilliant red, and Eddie gives him a reassuring squeeze before taking great joy in telling him just how embarrassed he should be about the contents of his dreams.
(Buck’s mortification is blessedly short-lived, since the contents of Eddie’s dreams are equally embarrassing in the very exact same way, as it turns out.)
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nibbelraz · 7 months
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I thought about something the other day which I nearly wrote but I don't have the patience for- what if Mobei had a sudden epithany while snooping qinghua's house? cause obv hes gonna snoop. sqh is mad sus, and mobei has trust issues with his trust issues. but it suddenly occurs to him that the bed that he constantly steals from his little human is very much rather. luxurious. The mattress is thick and expensive, and sqh rotates and flips it frequently so it doesnt get lumpy. it has a topper(1)
(2) with cooling talismans all over it to make it a good temp for mobei any time he decides to sleep in it. the sheets are silk, soft, and light. they're in his colours. his shades. it's a huge bed- long enough for mobei to lay down fully stretched out and still have room. theres countless pillows made of whatever is best for mobei's hair. they're piled up and spread out in a decadance fit for royalty. its always clean. it always smells like him. hes never seen qinghua in it once.
(3) and surely, he must use it, right? it's still his bed, no matter how mobei frames it. But he knows what sqh smells like, and that scent has never been anywhere but in the fleeting touch of someone who changed the sheets. there's never been a lingering warmth from his humans body on the mattress. its the most luxurious, extravagant, expensive thing sqh owns. its not his. looking around the bedroom- is this his either? can he see anything that he might say with confidence is the cultivators?
(4) the answer is no. There's peak lord things in here, yes, but by the nature of being a spy, that's mobeis as well. So he looks- where does sqh sleep, if not a bed that (should? could?) be his own. The answer appears to be a cheap, small little daybed. It's uncomfortable. Mobei knows how big his human is, and this wouldn't fit him well. It's made well enough, but next to the actual bed in the room? It's a grade up from the floor. If Mobei laid on it he'd be off of it by his hips.
(5) honestly its not even good as a chair. It's uneven and kinda lumpy. There's a vague pillow- flat and showing signs of being folded often. A blanket that looks more like a repurposed curtain. It it bad so sqh doesn't lose it to mobei's wants? or worse, is it what he feels like he deserves? He already knew qinghua wasn't one to spend on himself but, he didn't think it was a possible fear of having it stolen from him. Does he have anything of his own worth having at all? Mobei doesn't know.
(6) anyway this obv leads into a comedy of errors where mobei is like. "qinghua. get into bed." and the man positively bluescreens because ??? literally how is he supposed to take that. and when he sorta makes a movement to just lay down on the day bed mobei is like. do you even fucking have any night clothes or do you just sleep like that. get night clothes. get into my bed. you're being cringe. my king with all respect due; crack? is it crack that you smoke? ))
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He wants QINGHUA TO BE COMFY AND SLEEP GOOD IN A PROPER BED WITH PROPER CLOTHES AND WARM BLANKETS
Knowing them both it really would take Mobei an extremely long time to figure out that wait a minute, Qinghua doesn't sleep here at all?? Especially realizing the bed doesnt even smell like him, but the thought of him trying to fix that is so cute
I can also see him just picking Qinghua up throwing him into bed, Wrapping him up in furs and blankets and then tugging him to his chest
Yes he's comfortable now
ALSO QINGHUA BEING SO CONFUSED BECAUSE HE JUST UP AND DOES THIS WITHOUT ANY WARNING NOT EVEN SAYING ANYTHING
Ah I love how Mobei shows his love by trying to take care of his scared sweaty human
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ninii-winchester · 12 days
Text
Behind Closed Doors (Part 2)
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Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, use of pet names (a-lot) not proofread.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Dean and Y/n arrived at their destination and Y/n was sure of one thing; A romantic getaway to the Bahamas is the epitome of paradise. Dean had booked a private beach house for their stay. The beach house was nestled along a secluded stretch of shoreline, offering unparalleled access to the ocean and breathtaking views of the horizon. The house design was seamless with its natural surroundings, with large, open spaces that invite the outdoors in. Expansive glass doors and windows frame panoramic views of the beach, allowing sunlight to flood every corner of the home. A spacious deck extended from the house, leading directly to the soft, white sand.
“You really went all out huh?” Y/n questioned as they both entered the beautiful house. Dean smiled proudly as she took in all the luxurious designs of the place.
“The best for my baby.” Dean said closing in on her and pulling her into his chest. She leaned back with a contented sigh, dropping her head on his shoulder, her arms resting on his’ at her torso.
“Thank you, Dean.” Dean shook his head at words, pressing his lips to the column of her neck, leaving soft kisses in his wake. His lips moved upwards, he placed a kiss below her neck and moved to her jaw.
“You don’t have to thank me sweetheart.” Dean replied tenderly. He is just happy to be here with her, to be able to spend some quality time without being interrupted by anyone. He turned her around to face him, bringing his hand up to rest on her cheek “What do you wanna do today?”
Y/n titled her head to the side, her lips turning into a little pout as she mulled over what she wants to do today. Dean found her extremely adorable when she was lost in thought and all he wanted was to kiss her senseless.
“Lunch then rest. A dip in the ocean in the evening, dinner and then stargazing?” Y/n listed off the day’s plan.
“Careful baby, your PA is showing.” Dean chuckled earning a swat on the arm. “I’m kidding. Sounds like a plan to me.” Dean leaned forward brushing his lips against her ear before adding, “Does the evening dip involve swimming without clothes?” Y/n smirked evilly at his question.
“Well you’re gonna have to wait and find out.” She replied making her way into the large spacious bedroom, with plush bedding and direct access to outdoor spaces, to enjoy the sounds of the waves at night.
Dean groaned at the image his mind conjured up, not being able to stop the dirty thoughts occupying his mind. He quickly followed behind her into bedroom, picking her up and throwing her onto the soft mattress making her bounce lightly. “Slight change of plans, sweetheart. I’m having dessert first.” He said pulling his shirt over his head, leaning down to crash his lips against hers.
“God, you’re insatiable baby.” She murmured against his lips making him grin. The two of them spent quite a few hours making sweet love to each listening to soothing sound of the waves crashing.
After a leisurely and quite late lunch with fresh seafood and tropical fruits enjoyed on the deck, overlooking the ocean, the two of them laid in the hammock enjoying the calm.
As the evening approaches and the heat softens, clad in her bikini and his swim trunks, Y/n and Dean step down to the beach for a refreshing dip in the ocean. The water was warm, the light golden as the sun started to descend. The two of them float in the gentle waves, feeling utterly connected to the beauty around them.
Dean splashed water at Y/n, a mischievous grin forming on his face as he declared for a friendly battle. She wiped her face, removing the water from her face before splashing him back. They continued to dodge each other’s playful swipes. Laughter fills the air as they wrestle, trying to pull the other off balance while feeling the cool rush of water against their skin. Dean managed to push her head underwater playfully drowning her. Y/n got back to to surface glaring her boyfriend who was busy laughing.
“I win.” Dean exclaimed doing an awkward victory dance in the water. She narrowed her eyes at him before an evil thought creeped in her head. Grinning mischievously she grabbed the strings of her bikini top and pulled it off completely, throwing it at his face, rendering him speechless. Dean’s eyes turned dark and lustful, although she was hidden by water from below her neck. “You little minx, come here.” Dean growled reaching for her but she swam away before sticking her tongue at him. Needlessly to say he caught her and the dip in the ocean become even more interesting than anticipated.
Later, as the sky turns to twilight, they had dinner—paired with a bottle of wine, savored under the open sky. The evening culminated in stargazing from the beach, lying side by side on soft blankets as the stars emerge, twinkling like diamonds against the velvet night. The peacefulness of the scene made it feel as if the entire universe is theirs to enjoy in this perfect moment of togetherness.
“Did you have fun today?” Dean asked looking at her. She teared her gaze away from the stars to look at him, she supported herself on her elbow, her head on the palm of her hand.
“This is best day of my life.” She whispered in the stillness of the night.
“Can I make it even better?” Dean asked sitting up and looked at him curiously. He looked at her expectantly and she nodded lightly urging him to go on. “Wait here, I’ll be back.” Dean said getting up from where he sat and disappeared into the house. A few minutes later he came back and he looked slightly nervous than he was before he left. He stopped in-front of her and held his hand out for her, which she grabbed without hesitation and pulled her up to her feet.
“Y/n,” Dean took a deep breath before continuing, “I never thought I'd find someone like you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were special. You made me feel things I never thought were possible. Every time I'm with you, I feel my heart race, my soul sing... and I know that I never want to be without you." Y/n let out a gasp as she realised what was happening. “You're my partner, my other half. Your laughter, your intelligence, your kindness... I could go on forever about how wonderful you are. Honestly I can’t even work properly without you, the company would’ve gone to shit if it weren’t for you.” Y/n chuckled wanting to tell him he’s exaggerating but refrained from interrupting him. “You make me the happiest man alive. And nothing in the world would make me happier than you agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me.” He retrieved a velvet box from his pocket, the box open to reveal a sparkling engagement ring. Lowering himself down on one knee he asked, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes! Yes, Dean I will!” She exclaimed with tears streaming down her cheeks. He quickly slid the ring in her ring finger. The engagement ring showcases a single, exquisite round brilliant diamond set in a sleek platinum band. Getting to his feet he smashed his lips to in a searing kiss, pulling her into him.
“I was gonna wait till the end of the vacation you know, incase you said no. But laying here with you, beside the ocean, under the stars, you were just looking absolutely breathtaking and I couldn’t help myself.” Dean said after pulling away.
“You really thought I would’ve said no?” She asked and he rubbed the back of head.
“Yeah, I mean I haven’t been the best boyfriend to you, we haven’t even been public-“ she quickly stopped him.
“It doesn’t matter to me, darling. As long as you love me I’m good. Though I think now might be the best time to tell your family.” She said showing him the ring on her finger. They’re engaged now, even if they don’t go public they should at least tell his parents.
“Absolutely, sweetheart. The first thing I’m doing when we get back home is telling mom.” Dean had decided to tell his mom about their relationship the minute he bought the ring. He was done hiding their relationship and he doesn’t give two shits what people might say about them. She’s his fiancée now and he’s going to show her off to the whole world. “For now, I just wanna make love to my beautiful fiancée all night long and spend this vacation with her.”
“You’re lucky she loves you.” She replied giggling softly.
“Damn right I am.” He said picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder making his way back to the house. “And she best believe I love her too.”
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reverseexorcist · 7 months
Text
★ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 ★
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Wow just realised this entire time my asks have been off woopsie ●_● Should be fixed now.
Anyway, since y'all went feral over this dynamic (and I can't blame you), here's more of Carmilla with her adopted fallen angel child.
I know I said part 2, but I'm honestly considering making this a sort've slice-of-life series seeing as I absolutely love this dyanmic and I'm having some serious brainrot over these two.
Part 1 ↫ Right Here
➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader
➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒
➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,662 Words
➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, somewhat depressed reader, minor mentions of gore, sleep deprived writing, potential ooc Carmilla, mother mode Carmilla increased
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Getting used to your new life required more effort than you ever thought was ever needed. Getting used to living in hell was a chore in of itself, and quite a tedious one, and getting used to the new family you now found yourself surrounded by only piled on a tad more stress.
Unlike heaven, the land below was almost always swathed in some sort've darkness - There was literally no day night cycle at all and it was fucking with your head. Your poor circadian rhythm was completely thrown all over the place when three in the morning was just as bright at two in the afternoon. Not to mention the smoke ever present in the air. You weren't sure which you hated more between the two.
(Probably the air. You actually liked it when you breathed and didn't hack up a lung.)
It was a lot, especially when you were getting used to your new wingless life.
(Which sucked, by the way. Every time your fight or flight response kicked in, you found yourself straining your back muscles trying to lift off with nothing to support you and it made you want to cry every single time it happened.)
However, all of this was way better than what could've happened had Carmilla not saved your life. Your back still ached and the phantom pain still tortured you at night, the feather-fluff nubs of your old wings only served as a painful reminder. As much as you hated to admit it, often times you'd spend the entire night longing for the newly comforting touch of your adopted mother figure…
Wow. That felt weird to admit. That and a whole lot of other repressed emotions and memories.
You groaned and sighed, clutching your head and threading your fingers through your tussled bedhair. Your back muscles flexed, the sound of rustling feathers muffled by the mattress. The sensation was weird enough to make you 'gwak', roll on to your stomach and faceplant into your pillow. It was more natural that way, anyway - When one has wings it was rather difficult to sleep on your back, afterall, at least after your first growth spurt. You never thought you would miss the feeling, but you fought to find any silver lining in your new life. And in a world that was mostly shades of red, silver was quite a luxury.
Your somewhat depressing quiet time was broken by the gentle tapping of steel carefully approaching your room.
"Mi peque?" You didn't have the energy to jump, already having heard the delicate 'tink' of Carmilla's pointed shoes against the hardword floor of your new home. Her silhouette took up most of the doorway, the faint light spilling in from the hallway making the angelic steel decorating her body glow, much like the warm lull of her crimson eyes. Your head tiltied to the side to stare at her, but otherwise you made no movement.
She blinked once and ducked her head to step into your room. If you were, well, you from about a week ago, you probably would've been shitting bricks at the sight. It was lowkey terrifying, mostly because Carmilla was so much taller than you and had the expression of a constantly pissed off commander or something. However, it didn't scare you - Mostly because your worst nightmare had already come true.
"Can't sleep?" Her voice was soft, something that completely contrasted her outward exterior. It was soothing, though, and you found yourself not caring when she settled herself on the end of your bed.
(Your new bed. Your new bed that you could, for once, comfortably stretch out on.)
"Something like that," You mumbled, practically whispered. Your eyes glowed much like Carmilla's, like a mischevious cat from your spot hidden under your multiple blankets. "It's, mm, weird. Sleeping by myself."
Her eyebrow quirked, a silent invitation to continue if you wanted to. Maybe? Emotions were still hard to read for you.
"Well, because I'm used to sleeping in the barracks with the rest of my platoon. It's apparently really comforting, seeing as I haven't had a good sleep since I got here," You grappled your blankets a little tighter, as if doing so would provide you with some sort've phantom comfort that you secretly longed for.
A breath of silence hung steadily in the air, as if both your minds were churning on what to say next.
"I'm sorry."
"M'sorry."
You both said at the same time, which seemed just a little cliche. Slinking out from underneath your covers, you couldn't help by eye the demon across from you warily.
"Why're you sorry?"
"Because, I'll admit, I'm a little rusty," She reached up and untied her buns, letting her hair loosen and tumble down her back. "It's been a while since my girls were young like you-" You scoffed, which prompted an amused smirk "And it's not like I know anything about taking care of an angel."
"Well, you're doing better than what they were doing up there," You blankly motioned upwards where the pearly gates shone brightly in the sky like a constant sun. "Plus, I'd say you're dealing with me as gracefully as you can."
"Elaborate?" Carmila carded her fingers through her hair, tilting her head curiously. The mountain on your shoulders threatened to stumble, and by god you were ready to let it fall.
"Well, it's not like any heaven-born has parents. Heaven was always all about equality and shit, and every single child was raised by the community. And yeah, it was all rainbows and crap because everyone was loved mostly equally, but it sucked because I was always just another nestling that someone had to keep an eye on," You brought your knees up to your chest. "That's why, when the lieutenant gave me her offer I didn't refuse, cause I thought 'wow, someone noticed me!' and it was a feeling I chased ever since."
It felt nice to let it all out for once. Not like anyone else around you back then really cared, cause they all went through the same thing.
Beside you, the covers rustled. Carmilla opened her arms wordlessly, minutely enough that if you didn't want to, you could probably brush the motion off as stretching. But, the warmth the she radiated was sorely tempting, and your little serotonin deprived brain was severly touch-starved.
Wow, four days into your new life, and you found yourself snuggling into the arms of one of Hell's overlords. And, sullying the lord's name, by god you loved it.
Not a single word had to be uttered between the two of you, not as long as you didn't want it. That was the silent message that you both clearly understood.
It kind've made you want to cry, if you were being honest with yourself. In a place that had seemingly been perfect, you found your life lacking, and in the burning pits of eternal damnation, you'd found yourself feeling loved for the first time since you could remember. The way Carmilla's hold around you grew tighter, just ever so slightly - A comforting weight draped across your shoulders as you leaned into her warmth. That, along with her mellow breathing, it felt homely and nostalgic.
Tugging your blankets a little tighter around yourself, you didn't even fight the way your eyelids drooped.
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Two weeks.
It felt like a lot longer, but you'd been living in hell for fourteen days, and it already felt like you'd been living here for months.
Well, it certainly didn't help that you never really left the main house. Like, ever. And you, for one, weren't complaining. The burning pits of Hell left much to be desired, and as a little angel who hadn't even had her first adult moult yet, you didn't really fancy going galavanting off around Hell, even if Carmilla was hovering over your shoulder like a helicopter parent.
Still, after the first week where you'd discovered and explored all the places that you were allowed to (the allure of the armory was great, but the potential wrath of an angry demon was greater), there wasn't really anything to do around the house. Sure, it was probably one of the safest places in the eternal firepit, but neither Carmilla nor Clara and Odette were ever really around, and it left you bored out of your mind.
Sprawled out across a rather decadent couch, soaking up the hellfire from outside, you found yourself wishing that something would happen that would hopefully prevent your mind from rotting further. But, if the big man from upstairs was paying attention, he surely must've hated you, because literally nothing was happening.
Unless…
You sat up, straining your ears.
Nope. Absolutely nothing.
You flopped backwards dramatically, back of your hand against your forehead and all.
Maybe, if you still had your weapon, you could've spent your time training or practicing or something. There was a training room somewhere in the house, and you weren't explicitly banned from using it, and it wasn't exactly a useless way to spend your time.
(At least that way you'd be able to get some reasonable exercise in rather than just moping around all day.)
Maybe that was something you could ask Carmilla later. She wasn't the type to be against learning self defense, however you had no idea if even she deemed yourself too young to learn how to fight. She certainly was not happy when she found out about how you were sent to fight with baby feathers still warming your wings, that was for sure.
At least you had something to talk about when she got home.
"You want to learn how to fight?" As expected, Carmilla didn't seem entirely thrilled at your idea.
"Not necessarily. Just, how to use weapons?" It was more of a question than an answer, but it seemed to ease the tenseness in her shoulders.
"What type of weapons? Swords? Spears? Firearms?" She fixed you with a look. "If you want to get started, the first thing you could do is be a little more specific."
Which was certainly not the answer you were expecting, so you took a few moments to blue screen.
"Well, I wasn't too fond of using spears… Swords don't sound to appealing either…" Your eyes started drifting, and soon you found that your real answer was right in front of you.
"If possible," You wrung your hands nervously, "could I use shoes like you do?"
Honestly, Carmilla's unique fighitng style had piqued your interest ever since your head became clear enough to notice. Having your hands free sounded more appealing than lugging around a heavy blade.
The demoness paused for a moment, completely silent as she studied you with a stern gaze. It wasn't negative or positive, if anything it was most likely calculative. You weren't entirely stupid, even if you were young, and you weren't naive. Carmilla was weighing the pros and cons of teaching you her trade.
"Why? They aren't exactly easy to use," That wasn't a no, at least.
"I don't like melee weapons, not hand-held ones at least," There was more to your answer that Carmilla already knew. Months of cycling through weapons till you landed on one you could somewhat use you realised that you absolutely hated using hand-held weapons.
Carmilla sighed, a small smile appearing on her face.
"Okay, but it's not like I have spare angelic steel laying around. We'll have to wait till I can melt more down," She mused, almost seeming excited about crafting you your own weapon. But her words only confused you more.
"But, we do, don't we?" You furrowed your brows.
"The steel in the armory is meant for prepaid orders-"
"I was talking about my old helmet," You hoped that didn't sound too rude, interupting her. "I mean, the entire thing is is technically angelic. I don't know if it's steel exactly, but I know for a fact it's just as solid!" Now you were the one musing.
Like mother like daughter, almost.
"We could certainly try…" The two of you shared a look.
"Like… Right now?" You prodded almost mischeviously.
Tired as she was, Carmilla couldn't help but falter and smile, your enthusiasm almost contagious.
"Well, we can have a look."
After that it was only a matter of days. Carmilla was far more invested in your new project than you had expected, and even Clara and Odette had briefly joined in, if only to get a sneak peak at the workings behind an exorcists helmet. For the briefest of moments, with all four of you crowded around a table with tidy plans sprawled all over its surface, it almost felt like you were a family. Which, did prompt a stray thought in your head.
After gently pulling the threads of angelic steel from the rivets in the helmet's horns, you couldn't help but bundle them to your chest. They weren't exactly big, nothing compared to the horns of a full fledged exorcist, but they were still something.
So, while your mo-… Carmilla was busy melting down the odd, almost obsidian material of your old helmet in preparation of your new shoes, you were busy tinkering away with your own little side project. Of course, it was hard to explain the various little burns marks littered across your palms that had started appearing, but that didn't deter you one bit.
In fact, during this time, you found yourself shyly approaching the taller of Carmilla's other daughters, Odette.
One thing about her that confused you was the fact that her horns were fake, merely attatched to the band that held her hair up. But right now, that was exactly what you needed.
It was a sweet sight, honestly, at least to Carmilla.
You were huddled against Odette, listening with rapt attention as she explained something to you, finger brushing against what was most likely some sort've plan.
With a smile, Carmilla got back to work.
At the end of it all, you were left with a pair of shoes similar to the overlord's. Pointed and shiny. Sharp and deadly, yet oddly comfortable. The only key difference was the colour - Forged from the scrapped glass of your old helmet, the shoes were jet black inlaid with threads of silver, trailing all the way up the ballet ribbons.
And with your shoes, a matching set of your own horns. Odette seemed proud at the sight of you with small, obsidian horns branching from your head, unable to stand still as you clutched your new weapons to your chest gleefully.
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There was a massive learning curve to your new weapons, but at least you weren't bored around the house anymore. Most of your time over the next month had been dedicated to learning how to move around in your new shoes, building both the strength and balance so you could walk, let alone run. So many bruises had been blemished into your skin, but in the end you were able to walk almost as easily as Carmilla did.
(Of course, the demoness had way more experience under her belt, but you were still doing pretty damn well.)
And during that time, the bond between you, Clara and Odette had only grown. Sure, they were only around as much as their mother, but after donning your horns, it seemed whatever barrier that had been built between you and the sisters had been torn down. Seeing as the two could also walk en pointe like their mother, many a helpful tip had been shared from them which served to get you walking faster.
It was endearing as it was funny to watch.
But, being couped up inside all day everyday was starting to wear you down, which was certainly starting to show with the way your pep had slowed down significantly.
With a heavy heart, Carmilla finally unleashed you on the world outside, accompanied by Clara and Odette.
In reality, you were just tailing behind the sisters on one of their usual deliveries. This way you could stretch your legs and practice on terrain other than the smooth floors of your home, which, while it was more difficult, was learnt within no time.
As dreary as the place looked, there were certainly sights to see around ever different corner. You'd found yourself tempted to wander off every five minutes or so, especially when you passed by a rather bright looking… hotel? The entire vibe seemed friendly and inviting, unlike the rest of Hell, but you really didn't fancy getting lost, so sticking close by Clara and Odette was the most sane option in the moment.
Or, at least that was the plan.
Really, with your head on a swivel trying to grasp every sight and sound (which you regretted not a moment later) you'd lost sight of the sisters and found yourself completely by your lonesome.
Which… Fuck.
That wasn't the most ideal position, especially when you really couldn't do more than walk in your new shoes, but they couldn't have gotten far, right?
You were wrong. Turning either corners of the street yielded no Clara or Odette, which only made your heart sink further into your stomach because you really didn't fancy getting cornered in an alley.
Backtracking, you tried your hardest to think. Perhaps, if you could find your way back to the hotel, someone there could help you? It was wishful thinking, because this was Hell after all, but the aura was so different compared to the rest of the ring of wrath that maybe, just this once, luck would be on your side.
But of course, since this was you, luck was mercilessly right out of your reach. Not a moment later, a rambunctious howl pierced the air and a group - a pack? Of hellhounds started approaching you. Which, y'know, wasn't good, especially with the way their ears were pinned back and grins plastered across their faces.
Oh shit.
You started speed walking away, or your best attempt at it, in what you hoped was the direction of the hotel. Down in the streets without either of your guides, it all seemed like one continuous labarynth of red, LEDs and very questionable stores. And, as it turned out, lots of dead ends that you could easily get cornered in.
With the blood thrumming in your ears, heart pumping in your chest loud enough that it shook your head and just the general sense of 'oh shit I am so fucked', you really didn't pay attention to whatever the hounds were spouting off about. Lots of snapping of teeth and snarls, some crude gestures that made your gut twist anxiously and your feathers rustle nervously.
(You were seriously considering using a shoe as a knife. It wasn't like it was impossible with how sharp they were.)
At least, that was your train of thought. Until a resounding bang pretty much deafended you, echoing a chorus of ringing in your ears as the middlemost hound collapsed, head exploding with the force of the bullet that lodged itself firmly within the back of his disintegrated skull.
With dramatic timing, the others peered over their shoulders, only to be met with the towering, thoroughly pissed off form of Carmilla Carmine.
The barrel of her rifle was tinted with holy silver, but she seemed perfectly happy and prepared to behead them with a well placed kick. Whichever worked, you knew Carmilla prioritised your safety over the method of execution in the end. And in the end, the alley was scattered with various corpses in various states of limb loss, and you were carefully toted away in the arms of Carmilla.
She was furious. Probably. Maybe. You couldn't really tell. her face was completely stoney, and you were still awful when it came to identifying emotions. You assumed most of the anger had been taken out on the unsuspecting assholes that had cornered you. And for some reason, that only made you more anxious.
Not being able to tell what she was thinking was off. Back in Heaven, you could tell when Lute was pissed off, or proud, or indifferent, or whatever other emotion she was feeling at the time because she didn't really give two shits about what the recruits thought of her. And at least that way you could prepare on how to react. If she was angry, you knew to stay out of her way. If she looked indifferent, you knew you had to work harder in training. If she was proud, well, also best to stay out of her way so you didn't ruin her mood.
You whimpered and huddled a little closer. Carmilla clutched you a little tighter.
"Are you alright?" She finally asked once you were close enough to home that is was mostly just her employees around the two of you.
"Please don't be mad at Clara or Odette. It was my fault for getting lost," Was what you went with anyway. Carmilla shushed you gently.
"I'm not mad, I just want to know if you're okay."
Which completely threw you off. But you just went with it.
"M'fine. You got there before they could do anything," Those words seem to put her mind at ease, her shoulders visibly untensing as she exhaled a long sigh.
She hugged you, closer and tighter to her chest as if scared you were about to disappear from her hold. And you could only return the gesture, sinking into her comforting warmth. It made you feel small, almost like a little nestling on her first trip out of the nursery, but you found that you didn't really give two shits in the moment because you felt completely, wholly safe right where you were.
"Mi peque, mi querida, mi corazón," She uttered softly, "never wander from your siblings again."
Despite the firm tone, you could feel the care dripping from her words. You sighed and relaxed.
"Of course, mother."
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Rules + Info,
Masterlist,
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