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vivwritesfics · 6 months

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Lando Norris HC's

I'm burnt out and exhausted and I just want someone to love me haha

Masterlist

Lando

Where to begin?

He's... something else

Don't get me wrong, he's amazing

What's not to love?

High performance athlete who also streams on Twitch

Every bit the golden retriever boyfriend everybody wanted

Every bit the golden retriever boyfriend Y/N got

This man? Attention WHORE

He doesn't stop

Comes out with the weirdest stuff

It's so much fun

Wants his girlfriend with him for race weekends

Because he hates going a long time without pissing her off

Very important that his girlfriend gets along with Carlos

She's there when they're pissing about

During their McLaren days?

Mayhem

You kind of have a love every minute of it if you're dating Lando

Sitting in while he streams sometimes

Not every time

But being in the room, doing something while he streamed

Y/N could be doing her own work while Lando gamed and streamed

Chief cuddler

But can't sit still long enough for them to properly cuddle

Loves getting his hair played with

Oooooo running your fingers through Lando Norris' hair? Literally can't imagine anything better

Stealing hats and hoodies purely because they smell like him

Lando loves snogging

Kissing by lamp light, hands on her hips, grip almost bruising

Or his hands would be on her face, pushing away her hair

Man loves marking up

Marking up his girl and being marked up

Aka, hand prints, hickies, scratches down his back

Lando loved that the most

Feeling her nails raking down the skin of his back

Plus, it was easy to hide

Unless he was participating in an ice bath

Then he'd mark her up twice as good, since she couldn't leave marks on him

Out in the club, Lando is very touchy

Aka, doesn't let go of her

Holding her hand

Holding her hips or her ass as they danced

Y/N becoming one of the more photographed WAG's

Simply because she didn't want to stay hidden

She wanted the world to see her with Lando

She wanted the world to know how much she loved her man

After a race, when Lando was in the top three, he'd climb of the car, wave to the crowd, run over to the McLaren team at the barriers to celebrate

And then he'd pull Y/N against the barrier and she'd kiss his helmet, where she'd think his lips would be

Holidays with Lando!!

Oh my god, literally the best

Fancy hotels and Yachts

Adventuring together

Holidaying with other drivers

There was one particular holiday

It was very spontaneous, they hadn't booked anything

Just hopped off a plane and off they went

To the Canary Islands

It was difficult to get a hotel

When they landed, they could only get one

It was... hell

Kids everywhere, booming music like baby shark playing around the pool all day

It was all inclusive, with drunk, neglectful parents spending every minute getting burnt on the sun loungers or around the buffet

Y/N and Lando found themselves as far away from the pool and buffet as they possibly could

Y/N would be reading her book as Lando did... something

When parents came and took their kids for dinner, they got a break from it

They could go in the pool without kids swimming into them

The hotel had crazy golf

Happy Lando

Happy Lando dragging Y/N around the crazy golf course, giggling like a child

Driving with Lando

Ugh, simply the best

Driving around Monaco in the Fiat Jolly (before he sold it) with his hand on her thigh

Driving in any vehicle with Lando's hand on her thigh

Hitting every red light

Kissing at the stop signs (darling)

Lando belting out the lyrics to any song that comes on

Having a car playlist so that the both of them could sing along

Going to Lando's parents for Christmas

Traditional British Christmas

Aka, roast dinner, pulling crackers, drinking, playing board games and ending the night with a cheese board

Taking his girlfriend around Guildford while they're in the UK

(I'm pretty sure it's Guildford - a youtube video from five years ago just popped up which said Guildford)

(Guildford is the halfway point between where I live now and where I actually live)

After a year and a half, Lando asks her to move in with him

Six months after that, they get a dog

A Doberman, collie, or golden retriever, I think

The name? Badger

Why? Daniel

Aka, Daniel knew the couple were going to adopt a dog

He had to get himself involved somehow and

He placed a wager - if Lando finished below P5 he'd get to name the dog

Y/N readily accepted

Lando DNFed that race

And so, the dog was named after the honey badger himself

To this day, Lando doesn't know

Lando is such a good dog dad

The dog doesn't come to the race weekends like Roscoe does with Lewis

Either Y/N stays home or the dog stays with a trusted friend if they had both gone

Lando's social media becomes a fan account for the dog

Having oh so many pregnancy scares with this man

Who doesn't love a late night run to the shop to get a pregnancy test or two?

They do eventually get pregnant

Y/N finds out on a race weekend

She was at home with Badger when she saw the pregnancy test in her bathroom cabinet

Video calling her best friend, Y/N took it

She waited the mandatory couple of minutes before she checked the little stick

She had to hang up on her friend

It was just meant to be for fun

Nothing serious

But then it turned serious

What the fuck was she going to do?

When the fuck would she tell Lando?

Should she tell him now, before he's about to go and race?

Yeah no, not a chance

Not with how much she was currently freaking out

She waits until he gets home from the race weekend

The test (and all of the others she'd done) had been thrown in the bin

All she had was herself

This was fine

She wasn't freaking out

(she was freaking out big time)

Y/N stayed up, waiting with Badger for Lando to come home

As soon as the door opened, she jumped up and faced him

Lando dropped his things when he saw her

He'd assumed she'd been asleep when he got in

But no, she was still awake

And he'd been waiting for him

Warmth spread through him

Normally, when Y/N waited up for Lando, she'd jump into his arms

But not this time

She just stood there, staring at him

"I've got something to tell you"

Anxiety spread through Lando

Y/N told him

He dropped to his knees

Well, his one knee

For the longest time Lando had been looking for a sign that he should propose

He wanted to, he desperately wanted to

He was just looking for some sort of sign

This wasn't a sign, it was a slap in the face

With all of the racing, Lando hadn't yet managed to buy her a ring

He'd really meant to

When he got down onto one knee, it was at the very back of his mind

"Marry me?"

Yeah, that was how he asked

Of course, Y/N said yes

Lando began running around, looking for some rope or yarn or twine that he could wrap around her finger until he got a proper ring

695 notes · View notes

vulpisnocturna · 7 months

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Binding Vow - Part II

Part I here

Part III here

Read on AO3

This is part II of III :)

Warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, coercion, Stockholm Syndrome, captivity, Chrollo being a manipulative asshole, obsession, slight NSFW

Word count: 6k

The lilies in the vase by the windowsill were starting to wilt. Their petals were drooping, the stems getting darker, the vibrant white of the flowers starting to become ashen. In that way, you were like them. Wilting away in a prison you were forced to call home.

But Chrollo never let you see them die. No, he brought you new flowers every week, along with all the other gifts he gave you. You did not know which ones were bought and which were stolen. Not that it mattered much.

His pathetic romanticism fell on deaf ears. He could court you all he liked, but he failed to see in that brilliant brain of his that it would not work after kidnapping someone and holding them prisoners. A golden cage was still a prison, and he could not make the canary sing by locking it away, even if he used his silver tongue on it.

Sometimes, you did not know whether he was completely oblivious or simply did not care. Every glare of yours, every time you ignored him, shouted at him or even refused to eat- he met all of your attempts at rebelling with a soft sigh and a stoic outlook, telling you he “would wait for your tantrum to quiet down to talk like adults”. Always patronising. He was always so damn condescending.

Another month had passed since the day Chrollo had tricked you into having sex with him under the guise of letting you go free and then had drugged you and left that house with you. When you had woken up, you were in a new flat, which he told you would serve as a home for the both of you for a couple of months.

He had reassured you that he would never harm you and that he would protect you, failing to understand you needed protection from him. He had also reminded you that the doors were all locked, and that he knew your life inside out in case you planned to do something foolish.

The first night in this house, you had screamed your lungs out at him, fighting him, or rather, trying to hit him with all your might whilst he restrained you. In the end, he’d tied you to the bed and told you he would free you once you learnt to be civil.

Next, you had refused to eat. That lasted until he tried to force feed you, and the humiliation of the act had made you start to eat by yourself again.

After that, you had refused to speak or even look at him. Luckily, he hadn’t tried to force himself on you, but he certainly seemed to want it. He had started to sleep in the same bed as you as soon as you had cut out the screaming and hitting, and no amount of begging had made him change his mind.

“I understand you dislike my approach, but I’m doing this to keep you safe, my love. If you can get past it, you’ll see it’s only natural that we sleep in the same bed. I love having you close to me. You are so peaceful when you sleep” he had said, stroking your upper arms as though the gesture could ever be perceived as soothing.

You always made a point to fall asleep curled as far away from him as possible, yet, somehow, you always woke up with his arm wrapped around your waist. He was stifling.

Your best moments were the ones where he’d go away to do God knew what for a few hours, or when he would be so immersed in the book he was reading that he would not talk to you for a while. Of course, he would insist on having you sit on his lap as he read, but he had settled for letting you sit with him in the living room where you wanted, which was as far away as possible from him.

You hated to admit it, but when he left, you sometimes could not help but feel lonely. He was the only person you ever saw, the only one you talked to, the only one you could go to in order to find comfort. That fact alone was enough to make your stomach churn.

But that was all stopping that day. You had decided that one way or another, you would escape. You were on the eighth floor of an apartment complex, but even Chrollo hadn’t been able to find a place that did not have windows. They were locked, of course, but you could break them if you used enough strength. It wasn’t your strong suit, but you had trained a little on your Hatsu to be able to do more damage than your muscles were capable of. And of course, you would get hurt, but it was all for a good cause. If you could make it out, then… then maybe he wouldn’t find you. If you were careful.

That very day was your best bet. Chrollo had told you he would not be home for supper and had left you some food in the fridge. You packed it and filled several bottles of water, raiding the cupboards of chocolate, biscuits and fruit. You also found some gauze in the bathroom drawer, which you took with you in case you wouldn’t be able to use your Nen power straightaway.

You had cursed your power for two whole months now, hating that you weren’t an Enhancer, that you weren’t strong or fast at all. Of course, Chrollo would still be stronger, but your chances at escaping would increase. But now, you were glad you had it: if you fell from a few stories, you would be able to heal yourself, so long as you did not die on impact.

Which was why you had gathered every single towel and sheet you could find and created a makeshift rope with tight knots. It was around ten metres, which left fifteen to twenty metres left to jump. You’d found that there was a tree underneath the window of the office, so that was where you decided to escape.

The glass was thick, and you decided to wrap your hand in a section of your rope and punch it with all your strength.

It took half an hour and the breaking of your knuckles, which had also split and gotten wounded, but you had managed to stay focused through the pain and heal them before you lost too much blood.

Now, as to your escape. The window was now broken, and you did your best in creating a wide enough passage where glass would not be likely to cut you or the rope. Next, you looked down to see that no one was around. The apartment complex was situated on the side of a forest surrounding a small town, and the office happened to face the woods. You could not see anyone around.

You had around three hours to escape and get as far away from that place as possible before Chrollo came back. You had to move quickly, find out where you were and then find a way out of there.

You breathed in, calming your thundering heart and swinging the rope out of the window after tying it to the sofa. It reached ten metres or so from the canopy of the tree beneath the window, which was not ideal, but not too bad either. You stepped on the windowsill, planted your feet and started descending.

Ten minutes later, you had reached the end of your rope. You swallowed, the wind making your eyes sting and tear up as you looked down. Legs first. You had to either grab a branch with your hands or land on your legs.

You jumped.

Your hand scraped against the bark, burning and shredding against it. The branch underneath you winded you as you landed on your side, but you managed to break the fall before you hit the ground.

You convulsed on the grass, nausea and cold shivers tearing through your body as you quivered, taking small breaths that had you dizzy from the pain.

Definitely broken ribs. Definitely a broken leg.

Your trembling hand reached to your side, and you focused on your aura, feeling the pain, mending the bone, healing the damage until it felt like a dull throbbing rather than stabbing, burning agony.

Next was your leg. It took you longer than you wanted to consider to heal all of your injuries, but when you finally got up, you were okay. You could run, even though the numerous cuts on your body had made you lose quite a bit of blood and you felt lightheaded.

You started running. The feeling of hope that bloomed in your heart was quick to burst into euphoria, even though you tried not to lull yourself into false security. Running along the path in the forest felt good, freedom felt like cool breeze, autumn leaves and the faint scent of rain lingering on the ground.

You must have run more than ten miles by the time you stopped as you got to the edge of the forest. The sun was setting on the horizon, and you wagered Chrollo would be back soon. You probably had another hour before he realised you were gone. Where could you go from here? The hills to your right looked too exposed, but so did the town to your left. He would expect you to be there. But with the amount of blood you’d lost, the fact that you’d been running for hours and the lack of shelter in the hills, you had to go to the town. Maybe you’d find a sheltered place where you could stay for a few hours, before you left again.

But you never did get to the town.

Because as soon as you got back on your feet and went to grab your bag, your wrists were caught behind your back in an iron grip. You knew that scent all too well.

Your heart threatened to burst in your ribcage, and your chest heaved, your eyes widening as you writhed wildly to no avail.

‘If I were you, I would stop thrashing, darling. I am not in a gracious mood’ he murmured against your ear, voice cold, seeping into your bones like ice. You stopped moving altogether, swallowing the heavy lump in your throat.

‘Have you any idea of what that fall could have done to you? You’re covered in blood. Did you break anything in your brilliant escape?’ he continued, and you wet your lips, your temples throbbing.

Would he kill you now? Would he simply take you back? Would he break some more bones to punish you? Tie you to the bed, or relocate you to a basement?

‘Answer me. You do not want to make this any worse than it already is’ he said coldly, releasing you and staring at you. You knew trying to make a run for it would be useless. He would catch you in seconds. And who knew what he’d do to you.

You were done. He’d found you immediately. There was no escaping him.

‘My knuckles. My ribs- my leg’ you whispered, scanning his face for any clue on what might happen to you. His jaw tightened.

‘So you counted on your power to heal you, disregarding that had you broken your neck, you would not be able to heal. Not quite well-thought out’ he said, a tinge of cold fury in his voice. You ground your teeth, deciding you would go out swinging instead of listening to more of his patronising remarks.

‘I did not have many options. I ran, because you kidnapped me. I was willing to take the risk’ you spat, and he lifted his chin, looking down at you, seemingly rigid in his posture.

‘I must say that was a rather inventive plan. I think I might have read about a character doing the same thing in an adventure book once’ he mused, recomposing himself and disregarding your words completely.

‘You clearly cannot care for yourself, darling. Look what you've done to yourself. You are so very fragile. We have much to discuss. Of course, there will be consequences, but you should know I would never hurt you. I simply need you to listen. You can come with me now without a fuss or you can make the situation worse for yourself and risk more dire consequences for your behaviour. Your choice’ he said, looking at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly as you let out a strangled sob.

Choice. Another choice that was already written in stone.

‘Just let me go. Let me free. Please’ you breathed, resorting to pleading in the face of defeat, hating the fact that you could feel the tears spill from your eyes. He let out a soft sigh, cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You did not know whether you wanted to spit in his face or let him comfort you for something he was guilty of. Because you were so alone, your heart was so wretchedly heavy.

‘Shh, shh. It’s alright, my love. You must be so exhausted. You need to rest. I’ve got you. I’ve got you’ he kissed your forehead, soothing your sobs, and perhaps it was desperation and exhaustion that made you cling to his shirt with trembling fingers. You let all of your tears of frustration, pain, hurt and anger out, sobbing in the arms of the one who had brought them to life. And he was so gentle as he held you. So painfully tender in the way he soothed you, stroking your hair, kissing the top of your head, holding you close to him.

Chrollo bent to pick you up in his arms, and you buried your head against him, not wanting to look at him and accept what you had just done and where he was taking you. What the consequences of your escape would be.

As the temperature started dropping, you found yourself seeking out the warmth of his body, feeling the exhaustion catch up to you quickly. You had finally stopped crying, but your head was pounding and your eyes were raw from the tears.

You saw a car at the edge of the forest, parked behind the building, in front of the tree and your makeshift rope. He opened the door and deposited you on the passenger seat, closing it behind you and getting in on the other side. He reached over and put on your seatbelt, locking the doors and staring at you.

‘Where are we going? What is going to happen to me?’ you asked, voice hoarse from all the crying. Chrollo slicked back the wayward strands of black hair that had escaped his hairstyle, regarding you with a cold expression, if not slightly laced with disappointment.

‘You saw fit to break the window of our flat. I called some people to take care of the mess there and get our stuff whilst I retrieved you. We are going to another place, this one is compromised now. As to you, my love... I do not know what punishment would fit this crime. Your sorrow and your tears have touched me, truly. But I must ensure you learn your lesson. You don’t want this to happen again, do you?’ he asked, turning the keys and starting to drive.

Did you want this to happen again? Of course not. His tone let you know that if you ever did this again, there would be Hell to pay. Who knew what he would do now, you shuddered to imagine what he might think to do if you tried to escape once again.

‘No’ you said quietly.

There was no escaping Chrollo Lucilfer. You had been stupid to think that you could have done so. Drunk on the idea of freedom. He might have said he would never harm you physically, but he hadn’t said anything of the sort about your loved ones. You had learnt that with him, the devil was in the details. He always twisted meanings and played with words like a musician would play an instrument. And there was no escaping his judgement.

Chrollo was not having a nice day. He had had to pull back a heist when Shal had informed him the museum had been tipped off, and had thought he would just get to go home and spend some needed time with his darling girl. He had seriously thought you had made vast progress in your interactions with him. In a mere month, he had managed to mellow you a lot, and even though it had irked him to put up with your foolish tantrums, he had done so patiently, knowing being less strict would eventually aid him in making you come around. You had started to talk to him again, even seemed content to sit with him in the living room to read.

He wasn’t too pleased you never took him up on the offer to sit on his lap, and sometimes, he wanted to pull you against him and hold you there, but he was a patient man, and he understood the perks of patience and strategy.

That was why he had been willing to compromise on not taking everything he wanted yet. He had put boundaries on what was non-negotiable, like sleeping in the same bed. After all, you were his. He had claimed you, given you food, shelter and protection, brought you all kinds of beautiful gifts that reminded him of you, made you feel good. He knew you liked the sex, too. You could not deny it, he remembered all too well how very precious you had looked writhing underneath him, begging and whining for him.

Nevertheless, he was waiting to do it again, simply because you were under the impression you had been tricked by him with the vow you had made, and that had upset you. Understandably so, but the fact that you hadn’t paid enough attention to his words was hardly his fault. However, if he was respectful of your body and did not force himself on you, he knew you would eventually seek him out. He could already see the slivers of your resolve shattering, and it pleased him to no end. The way you now let him kiss the top of your head, flinching less often when he drew you in for a hug or stroked your cheek. It was a chess game, and Chrollo knew he would win.

But now, you’d broken his trust. You’d disappointed him.

When he had come back home, looking for you, thinking you might be asleep or ignoring him as he called your name, and had eventually seen the window shattered and a makeshift rope made of sheets and towels, he had seen red. There was blood spatter on the glass, and the thought of you going so far as to harm yourself in order to escape him had made his stomach hot with rage and his chest tight with worry.

He had inspected the grounds underneath the tree he surmised you had used to break your fall, and he could see some blood, not enough to make you die of blood loss. Some drips had seeped into the blades of grass that led to the woods. Torn between cold fury, worry and admiration for your commendable resolve, for a moment, he had also thought you were truly so delightful. It was so sweet of you to believe you could escape.

He also knew you must have used your power to heal yourself, because he expected you to have broken at least a few bones. Therefore, you must have been lightheaded and weak. A fragile thing like you, alone in the woods, where anyone could easily harm you. He had been worried sick, ready to burn the forest to ashes.

It had taken him twenty minutes to scour the whole forest. When he had found you, you had been panting, holding onto a tree as your gaze shifted between the hills and the small town as though you were considering your course of action. So fragile, so impossibly delicate and fatigued, so oblivious to your surroundings. He hated how you put yourself in danger. Hated that you thought it would be better than being by his side.

Of course, Chrollo knew it was human nature to seek freedom, so he could not fault you for trying. But he was not pleased. You had put yourself in danger and broken his trust.

He had been ready to make you learn your lesson by confining you to a windowless bedroom, never taking his eyes off you, even pay a visit to one of your friends. However, the moment you had started to sob and clung to him, accepting his embrace, seeking him in your sorrow, he had been truly moved. You were truly so sweet in his eyes, so vulnerable, he just wished to hold you and never let you go.

Now, he was not sure what the best course of action would be. Should he be understanding, threaten what would happen if there was another attempt, and bask in your need to be comforted by him? If he happened to be too strict with you, it might halt the progress you’d just made. But if he offered himself as the only one who could soothe your worries and comfort you, then, perhaps, you would become more dependent on him. He wanted nothing more.

But things would have to move more swiftly, because his patience was starting to run out. If he was honest, as he had you back in his car, looking so meek with your tear-stained eyes and torn clothes, he had only wanted to move you to the back of the car and show you just how much he needed you. Just how much you truly liked him. Then, maybe, you would regret your actions. But he had to hold back.

He had nothing but time with you. And your attitude and outlook on your living situation was the most important thing right now. He had to change your perspective, or his work the past month would be ruined just because he had lost his temper after you made a mistake. You could still make things better.

‘Chrollo’ you murmured, wringing your hands in your lap. You rarely called him by his name. You rarely talked to him without him starting the conversation. He loved the way his name sounded on your lips.

‘Mh?’

‘What’s going to happen to me?’ you repeated, small voice haunted. He placed his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin gently as he drove through the empty street.

‘You did something quite upsetting, dearest. You know I would have never forgiven myself if something happened to you. I cannot let anyone, including you, harm you. I cannot trust you now; you understand that, don’t you?’ he asked, voice smooth. A part of him wanted to ask you what you thought a fitting punishment would be. But he did not do well with not knowing what you would say.

‘I won’t try to run again- just... please don’t hurt the people I care about. Please. I’ll do anything’ you said desperately, and Chrollo forced himself to restrain the urge to smile. Now, that was a pleasant development. He could utilise this. Could reap the benefits of your dedication.

‘My love, it pains me that you think me a monster. There would be no reason to visit your past acquaintances if this is a one-time mistake. But how can I trust your word? How can I be certain you will not try to run from me again? That you’ll be my good girl?’ he asked gently, keeping his voice as soft and calm as he could.

Human imagination was truly intriguing. How you had come to that conclusion in your mind, already deeming it a reality, and sought to find a way out of it by offering everything you had. It was truly endearing, and Chrollo had barely had to do anything. And now, if he spared your acquaintances, he would be seen as merciful. You would be grateful. Even though he hadn’t planned to kill them as of yet, deeming it counterproductive for your opinion of him. But if he utilised your fears against you, he could appear as a compassionate source of comfort to you.

‘Because... I know it’s useless. And I don’t want to be the reason they might... get hurt’ you said earnestly, your bottom lip quivering. It made you look so sweet in his eyes. So innocent and pure. Completely different from him, someone so fascinating he could never take his eyes off you.

‘I- will behave. I’ll do- whatever you want’ you whispered, almost resignedly, your shoulders sloping. Chrollo let out a soft sigh. You had no idea of the effect you had on him when you said things like that. It was all he ever wanted. And soon, he knew you would say the same words with care and tenderness in your voice.

He parked the car in front of the skyscraper, opening the door and stepping out, and a middle-aged woman approached him, holding a pair of keys. Chrollo took them from her, spotting Shal’s antenna sticking out of her neck when she turned to head towards the glass doors. Chrollo went back to the car, opening the door and giving you his hand. You looked at him, closing your eyes briefly before you accepted his help and stood up on unsteady legs. He took his coat off, wrapping it around you. It would not do to have you walk in the lobby with your shirt and legs covered in blood.

It was long and baggy on you, and covered your whole body. He thought you looked quite sweet in it. He made sure to lead you to the door with a hand on your lower back, not trusting your balance after the injuries you had sustained and the clear exhaustion he could observe in your sluggish movements.

This time, Chrollo had asked Pakunoda and Shal to find him a place as high up as possible, so you could still watch the sky and not get any stupid ideas. The woman led you and him to a lift and pressed the button for the fiftieth floor, the penthouse. He liked to show off with a better flat, a more luxurious one, but had it been up to him, he would not have cared much, so long as it was comfortable and had everything he might need.

The woman stayed in the lift as he led you outside, to the door of your new home. He opened it, stepping inside and conjuring Bandit’s Secret to lock the door with Nen that only he could unlock. He put the keys on the bowl on the accent table by the door, because they were as useful as a pen to you if you planned to use them to open the door.

The penthouse was spacious but decorated in a way he did not mind. Cosy and warm, with a big fireplace, a loveseat and two armchairs in front of it, bookshelves filled with books on the opposite wall. His friends had truly found him a good place to crash. The dining room and the kitchen were connected to the living room by a wall with open arches, and one side of the dining room was a full window that offered a nice view of the city. He decided to look for anything that might be amiss before you moved from the hallway, and walked through the corridor, opening the door to the bedroom and the bathroom. It must definitely be more expensive than his previous lodging, but he hardly cared or worried about that in his life.

His clothes and yours had been carried here in two suitcases, and Chrollo decided he would give you space to have a bath or a shower whilst he tidied things up. With that in mind, he stepped back into the living room, observing you as you put his coat on the armchair.

‘Why don’t you take a warm shower, darling? It will relax your muscles. I’ll be here if you need anything’ he said, and you looked down at your torn clothes, your eyes wandering around the room.

He quickly went back to the bedroom, opened the suitcases and grabbed one of his shirts and clean underwear. You could go without trousers. If he were honest, he wanted you to go without any of those cumbersome clothes covering your stunning body, but he doubted you would react nicely to it if he suggested that. He was willing to compromise.

Besides, the thought of you wearing one of his shirts was somehow even better than going without it. Something about having something that was his on you. Proof of the fact that you were his.

He stepped outside, handing you the clothes and planting a kiss on your forehead.

‘Uhm- I need... trousers’ you murmured, your face growing hot against his fingers. He smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Do you, darling? The shirt will cover enough of you up. I’ll be in the living room. Come over when you are finished’ he said, leaving you blushing in front of the bathroom and going to the bedroom, starting to sort through the clothes and objects in the suitcase.

When you came back, he had finished tidying up and was sitting down on the sofa with a book in his hand, the fireplace now crackling with orange flames and a glass of red wine on the coffee table.

He had been right, you did look ravishing. With the smears of blood and dirt gone, his shirt on you, covering you to your upper thighs, leaving your legs exposed, he could hardly restrain himself. But tonight was not the right time to have you. No, he just wanted to hold you and see you. And perhaps taunt you a little as punishment for running away. Yes, he would definitely have you fulfil your promise to do anything he liked starting that very night.

He patted his thigh, and watched with sly amusement as you swallowed, clearly trying to find a loophole that would allow you to sit anywhere else. He enjoyed watching you rack your brains, knowing you might incur more dire consequences after you refused him the day you had attempted to escape.

It took you a minute, but eventually, you took small, hesitant steps towards him until you were firmly sat on his lap, his arm around you holding you to him. He loved your scent, loved the feel of your body against his, loved the sight of your pretty thighs. If he had been any other man, he would not have been able to exert control on his desires. But he would, because if he waited, the reward would be much sweeter. Besides, you seemed to think he would do something, and watching you squirm was delightful in it of itself.

He resumed reading the psychological thriller he’d picked up, stroking your ribs, knowing you’d mended them mere hours before. Your power was truly incredible. A power that sought to heal, remedy, one so in tune with your pure, kind soul. He found it so very fitting, so sweet. And so useful.

He could feel you shifting on his lap from time to time, and could not decide whether he wanted you to continue or to stop because it was so enticing. He decided he might do something, even if he would not take you to bed yet. After all, he had you there, glued to his body. It would be a sin to discard such a sweet chance.

He lowered his book, holding you more tightly, tilting your chin with his fingers.

‘Kiss me’ he murmured, watching you to see if you would hold to your word. He saw your pretty eyes widen, your lips parted as you scanned his face and shifted on him. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, pulling lightly on it, and he could not wait to do that himself and feel just how soft your lips were.

He had held back on kissing your lips as well, and he still remembered how worked up he had managed to get you just with that. He had a nice plan in the making, but he wanted you to kiss him first. Set it into motion.

You hesitantly craned your neck to press your soft lips on his cheek, and he let out a soft laugh, cupping your jaw.

‘Do not play coy with me, darling. You know perfectly well what I mean. Now, shall we try that again?’ he crooned, and he could see the acquiescence on your face set, compliance in the face of what you had said in the car as you leaned back towards him, closing your eyes and pressing your lips to his. This time, you did not have to be told to do it again. You knew what he wanted from you, and you acquiesced, tilting your head and touching his hair gingerly, your lips brushing against his, soft and timid. Chrollo restrained the urge to take the lead and show you exactly what he craved, because he wanted you to get there yourself.

At first, you kissed him slowly, tentatively, but then, the tip of your tongue traced the outline of his bottom lip, and you sucked it gently. Chrollo’s fingers curled around your scalp, tangling in your hair as he sank his teeth in your bottom lip, taking advantage of it to slide his tongue in your mouth. He had waited way too long to do this, but God, it was worth it.

You were addicting. He sucked and licked your lower lip, pressing his tongue against yours, tasting you, savouring the feeling of your restraint fading whenever he kissed you more passionately. A few times, he could have sworn you sought out his lips, hungry for more, battling your own desires but unable to deny them to the fullest. And it felt like a damn drug to him. He could force himself on you, but nothing could ever replace the feeling of watching you melt in his arms, so willing and pliant by the time you warmed up to his touch.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and his hand wandered down to cup your ass, fingers gripping the plump flesh of it, his cock already hard in his trousers. Judging by the way you were squirming and pressing your thighs together, he knew you would be wet if he touched you. And the thought alone was tantalising. He wanted to devour you, wanted you underneath him again, pretty and completely at his mercy. But he steered clear, deciding to just stroke your thighs, massage them, feel the goosebumps there as he continued to kiss you.

When his fingers inched closer to your inner thigh and you spread them for him a little, he knew he’d won. He smirked against your lips, sucking your swollen bottom lip one last time before he pulled back, looking at your flushed skin, bright eyes and tormented lips. You looked so tantalising, so compliant.

‘Have you any idea what you do to me?’ he whispered, his hand resting on your hip now. He let you simmer in that feeling, knowing that he would not have to wait much longer, he would have you soon.

He went back to his book, smirking slightly whenever you would squirm in his grasp. Oh, you must be so wound up. He wished he could help you. But this was all in favour of something better. To make you truly desperate, just as he was to get his hands on you. To have you all the time.

It did not take you long to start growing more sluggish, and before he knew it, he had finished the book and you were asleep, your head against his jaw, peaceful in your slumber. You were such a heavy sleeper, but he was also aware that you had exhausted yourself with that foolish stunt you’d pulled. He kissed your hair, setting the book down and lifting himself up, carrying you to bed. When he looked at you as you twisted in the sheets and his shirt lifted up to reveal the panties he’d picked out, he let out an audible groan.

Just a little longer, he thought. For now, he headed to the bathroom, seeking to relieve your effect on him.

You were disgusted with yourself. Disgusted with your weakness, disgusted with the effect he had on you. Yes, you’d said you’d do anything if he spared your loved ones, and you had been dreading him trying to fuck you. Having to go through it again. You had not expected him not to.

A week had passed, a week of torture. You had given up altogether on running away, especially because the door was impossible to open and jumping out the window wasn’t a viable option anymore. He had been more lenient than you’d ever imagined he could be, and hadn’t even tried to fuck you. He had merely demanded you sit on his lap and kiss him. And he had done so every day for the past week.

And every night for the past week, you’d been plagued with dreams about him having his way with you. You were horrified whenever you woke up drenched, pressure in your lower stomach, the unbearable desire to feel his touch rearing its ugly head again. Reminding yourself of who he was had become increasingly difficult, when all you could think about was how good he felt, how much his touch sparked heat in your body. And he knew it too, the clever bastard. You could see it in his sly grey eyes, in the sardonic smirk he would give you once he pulled away.

You were lonely, and you were tired. Tired of the struggle, tired of the anxiety, tired of weighing your every word, of pushing him away, of walking on eggshells all day long. It would be so easy to give in. The only thing that held you back was giving him the satisfaction. But then again, you’d already done that the time you’d slept with him. What was the point? Wouldn’t you live a much easier life if you gave in? If you stopped fighting and just let him encroach himself in your life? It had already happened, and your stubbornness and pride were only making your life harder.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You were weak and twisted for considering liking someone like him. Someone who had kidnapped you, a murderer with no morals, a man who had no problems threatening your loved ones and keeping you captive.

But what choice did you have? What was there in the future for you? More struggle, more bile in your throat, more tightness in your chest, more pain and suffering? Or just acceptance?

He could be considerate, when you did what he wanted. And he could be your worst nightmare if he wanted to.

You couldn’t defeat him, couldn’t escape, couldn’t convince him to let you go. Your choices were to either live a miserable life of suffering, or to give in and experience something bordering safety. Something that might resemble a life one day. All in exchange for giving in to the one who had ruined your life. Somehow, the choice made itself in your mind.

Part III here

#chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo smut #yandere chrollo #hxh chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #hxh #hxh x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #yandere chrollo x reader #kuroro lucilfer #yandere x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer

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pastelclovds · 1 year

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SLASHERS RANKED FROM LOUDEST TO QUIETEST IN BED !

⟡₊˚ ୭ slashers in order of rank ! billy lenz, stu macher, brahms heelshire, bubba sawyer, kurt kunkle, billy loomis, herbert west, jason vorhees, vincent sinclair, thomas hewitt, bo sinclair, micheal myers. ⟡₊˚ ୭ content warnings ! amab reader (no pronouns tho), top dom reader, sub bottom slashers, anal sex, possesive & obsessive behavior (billy lenz), brat taming (stu & billy loomis). ⟡₊˚ ୭ word count ! 1,315 words ⟡₊˚ ୭ authors note ! happy (late) valentines day! ;D

LOUDEST. ↴

♡ BILLY LENZ -> because of his mental illness, billy is very loud and expressive. from down right dirty rambles to him shouting about the various ways to end someone. billy is unpredictable, not knowing when his next outburst with come up. but one thing that is predictable about him is his volume when he's fucking with you. this man is so loud that you need to literally gag him so that he could shut up and not annoy your neighbors (he's into it tho). billy will giggle almost insanely while also letting out deep moans when riding you. when your pounding into the spot that will make him see stars, he will make it known to your neighbors of your private time together by screaming out your name and laughing like a madman. he always rambles about how good your dick is, how you are his and only his, how he would kill anyone who touches you, and all kinds of dirty talk. and knowing him, it's probably not far from the truth.

♡ STU MACHER -> this is no surprise at all. stu is known for his extroverted (and slightly annoying) personality. it's one of the reasons why he became popular after all, so you can imagine how loud he is in bed. when stu is feeling bratty, he will moan and beg so loudly even when you tell him to be quiet. but when you put him in his place, his whimpers are the cutest. while stu can be a little shit, he can hold his noises back a bit when he genuinely doesn't want to make you disappointed in him. although it doesn't last long. in his mind, when he gets loud, he is expressing how good you make him feel (which is every time you have sex). overall he is loud but he can keep himself quiet if he really tries (and ends up failing).

♡ BRAHMS HEELSHIRE -> its impossible for this baby to control his noises. he tries so hard, he really does. but the way your dick rubs against his walls makes him moan out to the sky above. brahms always wants to be a good boy for you, the way he moans out your name and whines when your cock hits his prostate makes you glad that the mansion you two live in is miles away from anyone being able to hear you two fuck like rabbits. when you tell him to not hold back his sounds, he will sing like a canary. but when you tell him to keep quiet, the poor man will try with all his might.

♡ BUBBA SAWYER -> since bubba is nonverbal he relies on his noises to tell people how he is feeling. that's no different when he's having sex with you. he loves the feeling of your dick abusing his hole and using him for all he's worth, his adorable soft squeals sound like a piglet. he's a big whiner and squealer. and as much as he likes to show you how good you make him feel, he knows he can't be too loud because he doesn't want to hear their endless teasing in the morning. but when you two are alone, he goes wild. I'm talking, high pitched moans, squeals, whines, groans the whole batch. and when he feels too good, he might not want to end after three rounds.

NOISY. ↴

♡ KURT KUNKLE -> while kurt is not as loud as the four above him, he still has his moments when you need to silence his noises with your hand. he can keep his sounds in check if you two are fucking in his house when his parents are home, but if are being particularly rough with him that day, he can't stop even a few moans escaping. honestly, with how pretty he and his sounds are, he might as well start an onlyfans. and you wouldn't mind showing to the world how good you make your baby.

♡ BILLY LOOMIS -> this brat just loooves to piss you off. he knows how much you love to hear him moan like a cheap slut, so he purposefully bits his lips or use him hands to mute himself. he wants you to put him in his place under you, but afterwards you treat him like a princess. he is certainly not as loud as his bestfriend. but if you want him to let his beautiful noises, you have to work for it. and the reward is worth it to see his fucked out face grow dumb on your cock as you two make sure your neighbors don't can't.

♡ HERBERT WEST -> herbert is always so busy with his work, so as soon as he's done, he wants to be with you. although he will never admit it, he craves you and always wants your attention. that being said, herbert isn't really the loudest. he does moan loudly ever now and then when you make him feel really good. but he sometimes holds his sounds back because he is embarrassed at how loud he can be. but once you and him get closer, he will become a bit more vocal.

QUIET. ↴

♡ JASON VORHEES -> jason is a good boy for you and only you, he becomes flustered at the simplest of praises, and although he isn't the loudest, he is still cute. he makes adorable whines and soft moans when you thrust your dick against just the right spots. when you and him become closer, he would whisper in your ear almost silently about the pleasurable experience you're gifting him.

♡ VINCENT SINCLAIR -> vincent wants you to know how much pleasure you give him, he wants you to know how much he loves you, but he can't. it's not that he doesn't want to, it's because his vocal cords are messed up. so it's very difficult for him to speak. so you always listen closely whenever you two are getting down and dirty, and you treasure every whimper and quiet moan from him.

♡ THOMAS HEWITT -> thomas may be a cannibal murderer to others, but to you, he is a big teddy bear. even though he can't express his feelings through speech, he can express how he feels towards you with acts of service. and one of his favorite act of services is through sex, more specifically by riding you until he is breathing loudly and letting out deep groans of your name. he doesn't get any louder than the usual moan here and there. but he desperately wants you to know that he loves you, only you.

SILENT. ↴

♡ BO SINCLAIR -> bo is the type of guy to believes that him making any noise during sex would make him look weak and unmanly. even when you and him grow to love each other, and even when your cock is so deep inside him and pounding away every thought that comes to his mind, he won't let a single sound come out of his mouth. the man is stubborn and prideful, but if you make him go through a couple of rounds and cum more times than he can count, then he will let out a few moans, but nothing else. this bastard is strong.

♡ MICHEAL MYERS -> dead silent. sometimes when you're fucking him you worry if he's passed out (or dead) and stop to ask if he's okay, only for him to hit you on the arm and let out an unpleased grunt because you stopped. the only noises he lets out are his labored breaths, deep grunts, and rarely moans. he lets you know what to do by signing things like, 'so good' or 'faster'. he still enjoys your company and wants you to know, but in his own silent (and slightly creepy) way.

all rights reserved © pastelclovds. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate, repost, nor recommend on tiktok the fics seen below as this is strictly prohibited. anyone found doing so will be contacted immediately.

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ambrosiagourmet · 2 months

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Dunmeshi Daemon AU thoughts BECAUSE I CAN

Laios: She isn’t actually settled, though they both pretend that she is. They never stopped enjoying the flexibility of her being able to change, but during Laios’ time in the military it became clear that it just gave people another excuse to bully him, so she “settled” as a white wolf.

Before the events of the story, only Falin knows that she still changes. Kabru, however, suspects. The rest of the party finds out not long after they set out to save Falin.

After Laios becomes king, she mainly stays in the form of either a lion, a hawk, or the white wolf.

Marcille: Neither Marcille nor her parents had any idea when he would settle, which was frustrating for her, and especially hard when her dad died before it happened.

He eventually settled into a nightingale, not long after she finished Ambrosia, much to her delight. She thought it was all very romantic and grand, even if he does like to mess up her hair.

He doesn’t sing much after the events of the story, but she still tells him he is quite noble and lovely.

Mithrun: Absolutely does not have one. They got ate. Before the dungeon, they were a dove.

Thistle: He took the form of a colorful songbird once Thistle started learning to play music, and would often accompany him. Sometime during Thistle’s thousand years as lord of the dungeon, he separated from Thistle. He wandered the dungeon, spending a lot of time around the town where the people of the Golden Kingdom live. They recognized him, even long after Thistle stopped visiting.

Sometimes he would report to Thistle. Sometimes they would go years without seeing each other.

He wasn’t there for the fight with Laios’ party. Yaad thinks he saw him briefly when Thistle woke up on the surface, but he’s not sure.

Kabru: He desperately wanted her to settle as a bird (which are quite popular with elves and also good at eavesdropping) (yes, the bird imagery of the canaries is very much Part Of Elf Culture in this AU). However, she is a bengal fox. Ah, well. It’s nice to have a piece of his home stuff with him. And she does give very good snuggles.

Falin: FALIN’S IS HARD… I think she might change after the chimera.

I like a beetle for her pre-resurrection. Maybe a ladybug? Or a jewel beetle, if a ladybug is too small.

After the story, she changes to a dragonfly. Everyone (expect Chilchuck) tries very hard not to make the obvious joke there. Chilchuck just makes the joke.

Chilchuck: With his canon weight management, Chilchuck is practical-minded enough to have his job influence his daemon’s form. I think she would be a rat or mouse - something small that can help him with traps, and can fit places where he can’t.

A lot of half-foot adventurers end up with rodent daemons, actually, due to the nature of their usual work. This can be the subject of mockery from the same kinds of people who are happy to use a half-foot as monster bait (or worse). Because of this, Chilchuck doesn’t mind disparaging comments about her - they help him know who is and isn’t trustworthy. However, privately, he’s quite defensive of her.

Senshi: Though she wasn’t technically settled when he went into the dungeon with his mining group, she spent most of her time as something nocturnal and practical for their work. Maybe a badger.

By the time he finally made his way out, she had settled as a tortoise. Though he loves her, the tortoise form is harder to work around sometimes - she’s slow and she takes up a lot of space, and caring for a cold-blooded creature in the dungeon isn’t always easy.

It’s not until after he meets the party, when Laios remarks offhandedly that some tortoises can survive for months without food, that Senshi fully understands why she settled on that form.

Izutsumi: she doesn’t have a daemon. Throughout childhood, this only added to her fears about not being ‘really human,’ and exacerbated her feeling separate and Wrong.

During the encounter with the succubi, she realizes the truth - she is bound to her daemon. That’s where her beast form comes from.

Due to being bound together at a young age, they are unable to change form, and stuck as their favorite form to take at the time - a cat.

[metaphor for trauma forcing children to grow up far before they should too on the nose? No? Cool]

#man dunmeshi is so rich for this #the idea of these characters just having a bit of their SOUL on the outside is just…. it’s just….

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silverechosandblankmasks · 6 months

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(Spoilers for Secret Life session 4!!)

Okay I love you guys so much but please we went over this last time Jimmy went red first-

The canary curse isn't about him going red, Jimmy hasn't been the first red every season after all; It's always only been about him Perma-dying first, and the fact he's been the first out every season.

After all an alive canary only fools people into thinking they're safe up until its song stops. The bird is still alive and still singing as of session 4!

So no, Martyn does not have the Curse, nor is he sharing it, at least not yet. Hell even then if he does die first or seconds after Jimmy, I don't think it would be accurate to say he has the canary curse unless he dies first both this life game and the next/multiple, otherwise it's more of Jimmy breaking the curse, rather than it being passed on.

I fully acknowledge this doesn't matter and is a silly pet peeve, and a dumb hill to die on, but as someone who's been going nuts over the nuances of Jimmy's Canary Curse since the beginning of its creation, I will.

(Also, please take this lightheartedly. I think I'm right about it, but not enough to want to start fights or make people feel bad for liking Martyn potentially having the canary curse. Do what you want, I just wanted to share my opinions on it!)

#also please reblog not just like #its so disheartening ngl #when i finally make original posts #and they're all likes #so nobody sees them after the first day or two #life series #secret life smp #trafficblr #jimmy solidarity #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #solidaritygaming #secret life spoilers #life series spoilers

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madeintheniamh · 11 months

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Heyyyyy! Can you do one where Tilly gets her first boyfriend, and Harry really wants to meet him so she brings him home for dinner? And after words Harry is all sentimental that she’s going up and stuff :))))) Love your stories btw

it's here! i put a bit of a spin on it but hope you still like it anyway xx

posh boys with rich girls

stmf one shot #15

when harry dropped tilly off at the prep school gates for the first time nearly fifteen years ago, he didn't realise that he had signed his future self up for having to deal with the notoriously stuck up private school boys.

a/n: this is exactly what i think a casual saturday in the styles house would be like. pizza and wine always. absolutely no 'posh people' food as harry would probably call it.

warnings: fluff, dadrry, teenagers, rich stuck up boys lol

Tilly had convinced herself that she could keep a secret from her Dad for once in her life, because she knew how protective he could be over her. He got scared when she fell from extension as a flyer in cheer- so imagining how dramatic he’d be when he found out about her new boyfriend made her stomach churn a bit. In his eyes, no one would ever be good enough for his girls- apart from him. This was quite a narcissistic way of putting it, he knew that, but he couldn’t help his standards being so high.

“You’re going out with Este again?” He joked. “I didn’t know she got a new car,”

“Yes, haha,” Tilly tried to chuckle, her face going red. “It’s really nice,”

“Can I come outside and see it?”

She shuffled around on the spot, trying to hide the fact that she was lying through her teeth.

“We’re busy, Daddy,” She bit her lip slightly, as he surveyed her guilty face. “We’re already late, I-”

Her face was now a shade of crimson as he pressed the button on the control to zoom in on the image on the security cameras that were on the driveway.

“Wow, didn’t know Este had her haircut, either,”

She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and began to bite one of her nails. “Yeah, looks nice,”

“Matilda Gemma,” He tutted, a line forming in-between his eyebrows. “Are you lying to your Daddy?”

She scorned slightly. “No, I would never lie to you,”

He took her chin in his palm and forced her to look into his eyes. “You know I don’t like it when you lie to me, Tilly Gem,”

She shivered, feeling his cold breath on the side of her neck. “M’not lying, I swear,”

“Why don’t you want me to come out there then, hmm?”

“Okay! I’m lying! Stop looking at me like that, it’s scaring me!” She threw her hands up in defeat.

“Well, is he from school? What’s his name? How long have you been seeing him?” Harry panted, his voice beginning to become shaky. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I knew you’d be funny about it!” Tilly shouted as she began to turn back towards the front porch.

“What do you mean?” Harry protested. “I’m never funny about anything!”

“Right now, look, you’re being weird, stop!” Tilly scolded, one hand on the door handle, the other on her purse.

“You tell him he’s coming round for dinner this weekend, no excuses!” Harry shouted back at her, as she was now halfway down the drive. “I need to meet him!”

---

Henry had gotten with a few rich girls in his time, and had met many of their rich Dads as a result. But none like Tilly Styles. Most girls who went to private school in North London had Dads who worked as plastic surgeons on Harley Street, or were big bosses in corporate in those tall towers in Canary Wharf. She had promised him that her dad was perfectly normal, even if he was one of the most famous men in the music industry. But of-course he was normal to her, he thought, because he was her dad.

“I’m not scared of a man who sings about fruit, I’m not scared of a man who sings about fruit,” He muttered to himself repeatedly as he sat nervously behind the wheel of his BMW. He looked up at the house in front of him, and shuddered slightly. He was rich himself- his father was a CEO at one of the big law firms in Westminster. But he hadn’t realised just how rich Harry Styles really was. He couldn’t understand how Tilly was so humble, having grown up in a house like this. He was probably half a mile away from the front door- fountains at the centre of the drive which a lush collection of cars hid behind, including Tilly’s little Audi TT, which was pretty scratched up as a result of her questionable parking every morning at Sixth Form. He jumped slightly as the hands-free system on his car began to speak.

1 new message from Tils

“we can see you hiding in the car… just come out already he’s really not that bad”

Swearing to himself, he opened the car door and made the long trek down the drive, before finally reaching the sheltered porch and ringing the button on the door. He thought that Tilly almost looked out of place as she opened it. She was wearing a white button up dress, her hair curled into tiny blonde ringlets that rested just below her collarbone.

“Hi,” He smiled awkwardly, struggling to put his hands around her back with a bottle of red wine in one hand, and a bunch of flowers in the other.

“These are so pretty, thank you,” She smiled, as he handed her the bouquet. “I love daisies, they’re my favourite,”

He caressed her back slightly, as he heard a deep laugh come from down the hallway. She took the bottle of wine from his other hand and began to laugh.

“Think Daddy’s already had too much of this,” She chuckled, as she turned and began to walk towards the kitchen. She turned around and noticed he was still stood by the front door.

“Come on, don’t be scared,” She giggled again, dimples beginning to show on her cheeks, gesturing for him to follow her. “He’s just a tall, soppy man,”

Harry still had a glass in his hand as he watched Tilly walk into the kitchen, and stood up from where he was sitting at one of the bar stools. He was wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a loose band t-shirt. It was hard to tell that he was a 42-year-old multi-millionaire just by looking at him.

“Daddy, this is Henry,”

“Hi, Mr Styles,” He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Harry is fine,” Harry laughed, holding his hand out. “Although, our names are similar, so that could get confusing. You’re the posh version of me,”

Henry tried to laugh as he shook his hand, but it sounded more like a cough. He looked over at Tilly, who was clearly amused by the awkward situation. He noticed all the tattoos littering his left arm. His father had always told him that rich people never got tattoos, because it wasn’t classy. But he had to admit- it looked good on Harry, even if some of them were starting to fade.

“Do you want to sit down?” Tilly asked, trying to break the silence. “The pizza’s going to be here in a minute,”

You had been in the utility room, silently listening in on the conversation whilst waiting putting the finishing touches on the crème brulee which you planned to serve for dessert. It was almost perfect timing, as the timer went off and you strolled into the kitchen, chuckling slightly at the wide-eyed look on Tilly’s new boyfriend’s face.

“Hi, Henry,” You smiled. “I hope he hasn’t scared you,”

“Oh, no, Mrs Styles, it’s just, you have such a nice house and everything,”

Tilly jutted in. “Daddy works hard, too hard,” She giggled, as Harry passed her a handful of 20 pound notes to give to the delivery driver. Henry looked at her wide eyed. His father would never give tips to people in those sort of jobs.

“I hope pizza is okay for you, it’s what we always have on a Saturday night… a Styles family tradition, I guess,”

“No, that sounds lovely,” He smiled. “But we usually have filet mignon on Saturdays,”

You swore you heard Harry scoff, as Henry’s eyes grew even wider when he saw the three of you begin to open the boxes, not even bothering to plate up the food properly.

“So, Henry,” Harry drawled slightly, the wine beginning to go to his head, as he shovelled a slice of pizza into his mouth. “What do your parents do?”

“Well, my Father works in the legal sector, and my Mother well, she spends most of her time at the country club,”

Harry tried not to choke on his food as he held back a laugh. “Wow, clever people jobs,” He snorted slightly. “What are you going to do when you finish your A-Levels?”

“My father says he is going to get me a job, in the legal industry,” Henry replied, you cringing slightly at the received pronunciation with which he pronounced his words.

“Sounds… interesting,” Harry replied, turning at you and rolling his eyes slightly.

---

After a couple of hours of awkward conversation, he had gone home and Tilly had gone back upstairs. You and Harry were still sat at the kitchen counter, as Harry filled up his glass of wine for the 5th time that night. His voice had gotten slow- painfully slower than it usually was, as he told you literally everything he had been thinking for the past few hours.

“I knew Mum was right when she said we should have sent them both to schools up North,” he sighed, fiddling with one of the rips in his jeans.

“What do you mean, lovey?” You asked, not quite understanding what he meant. “They’ve both been fine, here,”

“Ohhhh, my Father works in the legal sector,” Harry mocked, too drunk to notice the room’s newest occupant, who had come downstairs to get herself a glass of water, and was now staring wide eyed at Harry. “Their accents are already too posh for me, I just want them to be normal, and be around normal people, not with a load of rich twats,”

“Harry,” you gestured to your daughter who was now stood still at the opposite side of the room.

“Oh hey, Tils, you okay?”

“-You don’t like him.” She scorned, her brows becoming furrowed in the way that his did whenever he was annoyed.

“Tilly, I- that’s not true-”

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought him round.” She sulked, beginning to walk away, before Harry got up from the counter and blocked her from leaving.

“Hey, look, baby-girl, it’s not that I don’t like him,”

“Then why did you just say that? I heard everything,”

“Look, come and sit down with your Daddy,” he sighed, gesturing for her to follow him to the sofa next to the patio doors. He stroked a hand through a ringlet of her hair as she lent into him.

“I don’t not like him. He seems like a nice guy, he really does. It’s just hard for me to see you growing up, sometimes, because you and your sister are my babies, and it’s really hard for me to let go of you both,” He explained, as she placed her arm around his shoulder. “I can’t really explain it, but that’s just how it is, and I just don’t want you to get hurt, because it would hurt me, too,”

She laughed slightly, almost not believing what he had said. “But Daddy, I’m nearly eighteen,” She laughed. “You’ll have to let me go when I go to uni in September,”

“I know, I know,” he exhaled slowly. “Doesn’t make it easier, though, because you’re still my little girl. I still remember when you were little and I used to take you to ballet lessons,”

Tilly giggled a bit. “I made you wear the tutu, didn’t I,”

“You did,” He laughed, peppering a kiss to her forehead. “And I loved every second of it,”

She fully relaxed into his tall frame, feeling his slow heartbeat underneath her.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all,” He sighed. “Boys can be arses, I know that. And you’re the most important thing in the world to me, and it would break me,”

She took a deep breath, nuzzling her chin into his warm chest. “Okay, Daddy,”

“You promise me that no matter what, you know you can tell me anything, and I’ll be there, always. Promise.”

He looked down at her, green eyes identical to his staring back at him. “And fuck filet mignon on Saturdays- what even is that? Pizza is way better.”

---

i had to google what filet mignon actually was lol. looking at the photos it looks absolutely grim. how do people eat that. harry is right. pizza is always better.

if you enjoyed this one shot, i have linked the masterlist to my slipping through my fingers series here!

also thank you to the anon who requested this- please request more i beg you <3

#dadrry #harry styles imagine #harry styles dad #harry styles fluff #stmf #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles

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inaris-mage-of-storms · 10 months

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(Warning for brief suggestive content.)

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The day Fwhip left, Jimmy had said something about the poor timing of Fwhip still being away as spring began. Scott hadn't paid the comment much mind, absently assuming Jimmy's pout had something to do with a birthday or anniversary or even just the impending return of the canary's duties on the surface. They had already increased their visits to the village as Jimmy checked in with the farmers to see how preparations for planting were going, and Scott savored every moment in the fresh air.

As spring returned, he was beginning to realize the real reason why Jimmy might have wanted Fwhip home sooner rather than later. Scott was no stranger to the way brighter sunshine and warmer air could make someone feel alive after a sluggish winter, but the effect it had on Jimmy - well, Scott certainly wasn't complaining.

Gentle gazes were turning into heated looks and comforting touches were turning into silent requests for exploration and Scott's recently-returned clothes were beginning to spend more time on Jimmy's floor than on Scott's body. Insecurity whispered in his ear that he was only a replacement, a temporary stand-in for the absent lover Jimmy missed. But desire was right behind it with whispers of its own, murmuring in his ear that it didn't matter. Temporarily or not, it didn't matter. Fwhip wasn't there and Scott was and there was no room for what-ifs between Scott's lips and Jimmy's skin.

But it was temporary, and Scott accepted that as fact, no matter how determined he was to pretend otherwise while he could. So the day he woke in the early hours of the morning to see a figure sitting on the edge of the bed and watching them, he wasn't resentful or upset. He pressed a kiss into Jimmy's hair, savored the feel of Jimmy's steady breath against his neck, and looked up at Fwhip.

"Welcome home, your highness," he said quietly. Fwhip had come straight to Jimmy's room the moment he got in without even stopping to clean up, going by the smudge of ash on his cheek and the smell of sulfur and soul sand that clung to his slightly-singed tunic.

Fwhip's gaze was soft in the dim lantern light. "He looks happy. Looks like I made the right call with you, huh?" He brushed his fingers through Jimmy's feathers, and they both smiled at the quiet chirps the touch elicited from the sleeping man. "And you look uneasy. I'm a little surprised you gave in to him, if I make you that nervous."

"Yeah? You try making a rational decision with this thing in your lap whispering in your ear about how much he wants you," grumbled Scott, and Fwhip laughed.

Jimmy stirred at the sound, and Fwhip leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Hi, nugget," he whispered in Jimmy's ear. "Wake up and let me see those beautiful brown eyes, would you? I missed my pretty bird."

The beautiful brown eyes in question fluttered open, and Scott's heart fluttered at the sleepy smile Jimmy gave him. Then Jimmy realized who had been speaking to him, and his face lit up. "Fwhip!" He threw his arms around Fwhip's neck and pulled him down into the bed, clinging to him and peppering his face with kisses.

Fwhip laughed and put a hand on Jimmy's face, pushing him back slightly. "All right, all right, calm down. You'd think you missed me or something."

Jimmy smiled up at him and ran his fingers through Fwhip's hair and over his ear. "Of course I did," he said softly. "I'm glad you came back to me safely. I love you."

Scott was pleased to see he wasn't the only one easily flustered by Jimmy's habit of casually dropping direct admissions of love. Fwhip's tail curled and his cheeks flushed, and the shy look on his face seemed almost out of place on a powerful king. It was even cuter, thought Scott, when he considered how long Jimmy and Fwhip had been together. All those years and Fwhip still looked at Jimmy in wonder, like he'd been granted a dream come true and still couldn't quite believe it. All those years and Jimmy still looked at Fwhip with adoration, like nothing could compare to the sight before him.

Scott wondered how Jimmy would look at him after ten years. He wondered where he would even be by then. Would he just be a fond memory? Would Jimmy even think of him?

"As tempting as this is," said Fwhip as Jimmy tried to entice him into joining them under the covers, "I am in desperate need of a bath. Are you joining me?"

"Am I joining him, he says! That's cute if you think I'm letting you out of my sight for even a second for the next week," said Jimmy. He relinquished his hold on Fwhip and sat up, then cast an uncertain look toward Scott.

Scott slid a careful smile onto his face, no doubt in his mind that the two would want some privacy after so long apart. "Go on. I think I'll sleep a little longer, maybe get started on breakfast after." Jimmy beamed at him and leaned over for a kiss, then got out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown to follow Fwhip down the hall. Scott watched them go, then gathered his clothes and slipped back to his own room.

He curled up in bed and tried to ignore the clouds creeping their way into his thoughts. Fwhip hadn't batted an eye at finding Scott in Jimmy's bed, but now that Fwhip was back to love him and planting season was around the corner to keep him busy, Jimmy would have no need for Scott for companionship of any kind. Scott wondered what Fwhip would do with him. Would he send him back to the mines? Would he be confined to his room?

There were seven months left on Scott's sentence. He'd spent the winter basking in Jimmy's warmth, and now faced the possibility of going without it. Scott looked upon the last short stretch of his imprisonment, and dreaded that it might be the longest yet.

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#empiresshipping #flower husbands #fwhimmy #canary in the gold mine au #file: storm writes things

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allisonreader · 7 months

Text

@inklings-challenge Here’s my challenge story for this year.

Grandfather's Story

(Not a true story.)

There’s a story that my grandfather always liked to tell about his days working in a coal mine. He would always tell it to his kids and then us grandkids. Most of us weren’t sure whether to believe it, but he swears that it’s true.

His story starts with a tragedy.

A tunnel had collapsed and miners had died. Others were injured and managed to get out of the mine.

My grandfather had been one of the men tasked with shoring up the tunnel so that the dead could be safely removed to be given to their families for proper burials.

He and the other men took a canary in with them. An important alarm system for them even though they weren’t actively mining.

They had been working for several hours and had managed to bring all but one of the dead up. This particular gentleman had been buried in the wall collapse more than any of the others had been. As soon as they had managed to recover him, my grandfather and the other miners swear on their lives that the canary spoke. Telling them that they needed to leave before the tunnel collapsed further, before the bird fell completely silent.

Not a single man my grandfather worked with hesitated. They grabbed the dead man and booked it out of the mine as quickly as they could. Just making it out before the tunnel did indeed collapse behind them.

The canary returned to its regular singing once out of the mine.

Not a single one of those miners; my grandfather included, heard that canary or any other, speak like that again. My grandfather was certain that if the canary hadn’t spoken that all of them working to retrieve that last man would have been buried and died.

When that canary died, he was buried with all the dignity of a human and was given his own highly attended funeral. All the miners who were there that day, came to honour the bird that not only saved their lives but allowed families to bury their loved ones as they wanted to.

I still find it hard to believe that the canary spoke, but it’s also hard to argue with the amount of witnesses. Plus my grandfather loves to tell the story and I won’t tell him what to believe when he was the one who was there.

🐦‍⬛🐦🐦‍⬛🪹🪺🐦‍⬛🐦🐦‍⬛

So fun fact. I wrote this fairly short story during the duration of a one of the sprints that I've held this year. It came from out of nearly nowhere where, as I certainly never had anything planned like this for Team Chesterton, either this year or previous. I also have only given it a basic once over before posting it. (Mostly out of fear of not deciding to not post it if I leave it too long.) I'm still not super confident about it. Part of that is because of how I wrote it feels very much like a post that you would come across in the wild on this site in some ways. By which I mean I feel like it's more written like a post telling a story than how I typically write stories. Anyways I think I should stop over explaining before this becomes more of a mess than this note might already be.

(Three days after originally posting; post note. I'm pretty sure the nerves about sharing this were more just typical new posting than actually about the style. Because the story does exactly what I intended it to do. Be a quick story told in a way like I'm telling friends/explaining this story that is passed down by family. So I mean it's definitely not that I don't like it, it's just generally not how I write fictional stories. Anyways this is to say that while I might not have been confident, doesn't mean that I don't feel accomplished in what I have written. Now I probably really have over explained at this point.)

#inklingschallenge #team chesterton #genre: intrusive fantasy #theme: burial

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unohanabbygirl · 1 month

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what's going to happen when Rhae finally sits the throne and they all tell Delulumond the truth about Vivi tho? :O I fear Riverlands will burn in every au there's no escaping from that.

By the time the truth comes out Vivi is in his early teens since Viserys somehow managed to hold onto life by a single hair strand for a while longer and truly sees Aemond as a second father rather than an uncle they’re supposed to be keeping on a leash. Vivi has grown so sweetly attached and by proxy ended up stopping the process of Aemond delving even deeper into the hole of toxic masculinity and hatred for Rhaenyra that would’ve sent him spiraling a decade ago. That and the fact that he and Luke end up getting married kept the Riverlands safe from Vhagar when the truth eventually came about.

And the funny thing is, Aemond realized Vivi wasn’t actually his kid years before when Luke gave him the proper sex talk (something he wasn’t supposed to do) cause he couldn’t stand to watch his fiancee being to utterly clueless about such a big part of life. Aemond put two and two together quite quickly and felt a hint of betrayal but not because tricking him into thinking he left his nephew a single father to a bastard for a few years was a heartless thing to do. No, Aemond saw and respected his sister and uncles plan too much to be that mad. His anger really came from the idea of being taken advantage of due to his embarrassing ignorance by the people he’d actually come to know and respect to a certain degree over the years. He still sees vivi as his, still wants to teach him and show his two favorite boys the world while on dragonback.

For a while he went a bit cold with Luke in attempts to see how deep his love went. After all, was their relationship all for show? Even what they shared privately as a family with their “son”. But soon enough he came to see Luke truly loved being a family just as much as he did and frustration soon fizzled into acceptance. Wondering when/if someone would ever actually tell him the truth up front.

Its a funny affair the night Viserys croaks. Luke is so overwhelmed at the idea of losing Aemond’s love and cant hold it in anymore. Poor thing ends up singing like a canary while they’re getting ready for bed the night before Viserys funeral which Aemond takes as his one moment to channel his inner theatre kid and put on a PERFORMANCE just to make his husband feel bad before insisting they kiss and make up.

Luke crying real tears: a- and then Jace said it would be easy to trick you cause you’ve always been so much dumber than you realize 😓

Aemond : YOU CAN STOP NOW. I SAID I FORGIVE YOU!!!

#asks

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sp00kymulderr · 2 years

Text

beneath the moons gaze

Warnings: 18+ - p in v, oral, squirting, swearing, overstimulation, love

Pairing: Ezra x afab!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Old one, deleted a while back but rewrote slightly so it’s going back up so I can put it back on the masterlist.

It’s overwhelming.

“Oh. Like that”

His body on yours, the sound everywhere of your bodies meeting in desperate thrusts as he sings your praises against your ear while he fucks so deep in to you. He makes you trill, a great symphony of unrestrained want. He surrounds you, covers your body with his, so close.

“So close”.

You’re so close again and it’s so intense. Building in you, the rising pressure of a release so strong it makes every particle between you quiver.

“Don’t stop”

When it comes, it is breathtaking, surging and spilling around him until you are both left shaking from it.

“Kevva!” You gasp, panting for air. “Ez- Ezra, did I just-”

“It seems you did, angel” he replies, voice uneven and barely concentrating.

You take a moment, feeling it so deep. Still around you even as he moves. Your whole being is buzzing, shocked, excited, exhausted. But your reaction is nothing compared to his.

You’ve never seen him so proud, the expression painting his handsome features with a smirk as he sits back on his knees between your spread legs on the bed and listens you try to get your breathing back to some kind of normal.

His hand smooths gently over your still shaking thigh, as he looks down and admires the mess of it. You can feel it, the wet patch on the sheets beneath you and your is cunt dripping, actually dripping, with the combination of yours and his release. You had never come like that before with him or anyone, so hard you were gushing. The fierce reaction of your body to the onslaught of arousal he had put you through tonight.

“Ezra” you breath a faint warning as he dips his hand down to press against your leaking cunt. He gathers up some of the escaping liquid and pulls away, making sure you’re watching him as he slowly licks his fingers clean. He looks at you amused again as you groan and push yourself back up the bed slightly, unable to do much more as your body comes down from it’s unbelievable high.

Oh, you ache. Your limbs heavy, weighed down by the heady air of sex in the room. Your centre still spasming and your heart racing. Kevva alive, the two of you have done so much and yet still he finds new ways to make you combust. You can’t help but fall back in a fit of giggles, him chuckling along with you even as he looks so pleased with himself.

“Can you stop looking so smug?” you laugh, propping yourself up on your elbows to stare at him. You only half mean it and he knows that, plays along

“Not until you stop shaking like that, stardust” he responds with an amused look, cocking an eyebrow at you.

Rolling your eyes, you fall back against the mattress with a giggle. He’s right; your legs and hands are still shaking, your heart-rate still quickened, and the simple, barely there swipe of your thumb over your peaked nipple sends a light aftershock coursing through you that makes you arch up again.

“You look like the cat that ate the fucking canary”

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him look quite this self-satisfied before now.

“Feeling like it too” he admits, moving to sit on the side of the bed but not before kissing you soft, lips brushing for only a moment before he’s pulling away.

“And can you blame me, hm? Feeling my love come like that, make a mess like that for me?”

You pretend to ignore him but can’t help a quiet moan at that, teeth scraping the swollen flesh of your bottom lip to quiet yourself.

“Would you like some water, stardust? You may need to...ah...rehydrate a little after that” He asks, laughing in delight when you lean across to slap his bare ass before he walks away.

“Shut up” you groan playfully, adding “...yes, please” after a moment, genuinely parched after the experience he just put you through.

He hums a tune of contentment as he fills a glass with water, for a moment the only sounds are him and the running tap. It helps ground you, respire steadily again – your body finding some semblance of normal as you slowly sit up with the pillow propped behind you against the metal frame of the bed. You smile at his song, let it weave a calmer energy through you.

Gazing out of the open window besides the bed while you wait for him, the cool breeze soothing your too-hot skin, the brilliant moonlight shines down almost a silver-blue reflecting off the rain-soaked quiet streets below. There’s no way of knowing what time it is, not without picking up your data pad on the other side of the room, and like a lot of your existence with Ezra it feels pleasantly like time is standing still, like the moment is just him and you and everything else is paused. The pernicious ticking of the clock halted in adulation of the intimacy you two share.

And truly, even when it is ferocious your love is so utterly intimate; even in it’s biting, clawing, relentless hunger there was always the deepest care and reverence between you both.

You feel the mattress dip slightly rather than hear him sit besides you, so lost in the beauty of the moon. Your hand falls to his firm thigh, squeezing lightly, and Ezra bows his head to tenderly kiss at your shoulder, rubbing his cheek sweetly against you like a happy house-cat showing affection. For a while he is quiet and you feed off each others tired, happy spirits.

You could be like this with him always, let his warmth surround and live in you.

“Here, drink” he presses the glass to your free hand and the cold of it brings you back to yourself. You gulp down the cool liquid, Ezra’s fingers gently drawing circles against your hip. He’s always finding ways to touch you.

“I believe we truly outdid ourselves tonight, stardust” he mutters, taking the drink from you when you’re done. He takes a slow sip, then places the glass to the side.

“We did, didn’t we?” You grin, squeezing his thigh lightly. “I never knew I could do that. I’ve never come like that before. It was…” you don’t finish, the word not quite ready for you.

“You were transcendent. Nearly did away with me feeling you gush around me like that. All for me”

“Always for you, love. You make me feel incredible, make me feel everything” you tease back, moving your hand down along his inner thigh, fingers lightly skimming.

“I am entirely bewitched by you” Ezra breathes, voice like honey making you melt as you hands never leave each other.

Momentarily, you just look at each other. Admiring, appreciating, but more too. That heavy air is descending again, despite your tired eyes, and you can’t decide if you want to do something about it or not.

Slowly, you lean over to kiss Ezra – for a while it’s tender, oh so gentle as your lips brush and you share a breath before he’s moving you both, pushing you back against the pillow as his tongue finds yours and he’s kissing you deep.

His hand roams low while his mouth remains on yours. Insatiable. He moves back slightly, to look at you with a perfect grin, the kind that lights up his whole face, as fingers delve between your legs to find your inner thighs sticky and your sex still leaking your releases.

“Stardust,” he groans, and you clench at the rumble of his voice so close to you “You know I’m a man of great appetite, and I must admit your display of satisfaction has left me longing for more. What do you think – Do you have one more to give? One more for me?”

You’re quickly burning at the sweet tone of his undemanding request, molten blood in your veins scorching you from the inside. The way he looks at you; patient and calm but wide eyed in need. Like a dying man whose last wish lies between your legs, if only you’ll allow him the gratification.

Carefully, his index finger skims your swollen clit, and you jolt and moan, curling in on yourself slightly at the painful pleasure of it. It feels different, good but almost vicious. You’re still so sensitive from the three he’d already pulled from you that night, especially the last - such a wildly fervent thing you were still barely recovered from it.

“I...I don’t know if I can take it” you whine, but your hand is around his wrist already.

“That’s ok, stardust” he nods, pressing his lips to your forehead.

When Ezra makes to move his hand away, so he can hold you and sooth you, he finds your grip on him tight and you whimper in to his ear. You guide his hand down, fingers lead away from your sensitive nub to your soaked entrance.

“Wanna try” you whisper, nose nudging at his cheek. “For you”.

He leans back slightly to look you in the eye and his deep brown ones finds yours wanting, begging. Even if you cannot define the desire after such white-hot pleasure, you continue to ache for him.

When you release his wrist, he moves slowly to inch two fingers inside of you and you’re already squirming at that, lips parted and head flung back to lean against the bed frame when he curls them your sensitive upper wall.

“So good for me” he smiles, pride and delight much like before but this time all yours.

His digits press up and against that spot that makes you strain. Fuck, he’s going to ruin you tonight.

You can hear the obscene wet plunge of his fingers within you, it makes you dizzy with lust. Ezra stays focussed on his fingers there, away from your clit until he knows you’re ready for more again. Instead he watches your face intently as he fucks you with his fingers, relishing how utterly wrecked you look as you squeeze your eyes closed and fall back against the pillow with a feral groan.

“Feels good. Please, Ezra”

“What are you begging for, angel?”

“M- More. More. Please”

Slowly, gently he pulls his digits out. You let out an aching mewl, the need for his touch but you feel too dizzy to even find him, demand him. You’re hot all over, undone by him as you open your eyes and see a bright patchwork of colour above you from how tight you had them pressed. He’s not above you, and you let out a wracked sob before you feel his hand parting your thighs, slinging one leg over his shoulder as he lips trace the upper thigh of the other.

“You want more?” his breath burns in to your skin and you buck up.

“Yes. I- I want- Oh” you interrupted yourself with strangled cry, when his mouth latches on to you, sharp nose nudging your swollen clit.

His tongue explores, and he moans and hums against you – sends shock waves all the way through you with the dark growl of his voice. You know he can taste the mixture of both of you, know it must be driving him wild. You want to taste, want to tell him but you can’t form a word that doesn’t sound like a nonsensical noise, a hopeless cry for god or mercy or more. Every inch of you is quivering, vibrating. Your body a vessel of pure pleasure, on the cusp of painful but always so good.

It feels like hours that he feasts on you, pressing himself in to the bed that he is now leaking against too. Everything else is nothing to you, everything but him and the moon as she shines down and blesses your tryst.

And yet, is that even the moon? She could be the sun now and you would have no way of knowing, no sense of anything at all but Ezra’s mouth on you.

You’re grinding against Ezra, trying to find pressure where you need it as you buck wildly. He is toying with you now, consuming you wholly but not offering the release he had promised. His eyes painted with a wicked gleam when you prop yourself up on shaking arms to look down at him. It’s not unusual, Ezra can enjoy you like that for hours on end and often has, but in your state of overstimulation and sensitivity you can’t fathom being teased.

You’re about to scream or sob or smack him or something violent, when he takes your hand in his, rests it on your belly and holds it tight. Ezra pulls back to breath, has he even had a moments breath since this began? Smiles rakish and wide with a wink before diving back in, swiping his nose upwards between your folds as if breathing in the scent of you, and then his lips are attaching to your clit and sucking. Hard.

You fall back, arch harshly. If you had a voice left at all you’d scream. You’re so worked up, so utterly worked, shattered by him that your entire mind and body seems to vanish for a moment – like you are nothing but white noise and static, floating above yourself, and then you are exploding. Pushing and jolting, fire and flame.

You are a supernova.

He kisses and coos, guiding you through it, drinking down everything you offer. Your hand held tight in his even as you writhe and twist on the bed. Praises you for giving, letting him have so much. You can do nothing but mumble disjointed, pushing away when you cannot take any more.

Ezra is a sight. Hair sticking up in all directions, blonde patch partly sticking to his forehead. A sheen of sweat and you covering his face as he finally pulls away and out from between your legs, although you know he’d stay for longer if he could.

“You did so well” he says, lying down besides your panting, unwoven form and pulling you to him to sooth you. “So well, angel. Kevva and all the old gods could never reach such divine heights”

“Mhmm” is all you can reply, turning yourself with some effort to lean your head against his chest and wrap your arms around him. You know he’s smiling so proud as you fall exhausted against his chest, eyes heavy and body light. And you think you’ll let him get away with that, at least until the morning.

For now, however, the sun ascends and paints the sky in glorious peach and pink. You let time start ticking again, and fall asleep for at least a few hours in your lovers warm embrace.

#Ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal #*ezra #*18+#afab reader #gideon writes again maybe

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