saw my precious little sheepolas on the big screen poking around the village with his smug questions, being a cutie pie nuisance.
He’s solving crimes, innit. 🔍🐏💛
I cried five times. FIVE TIMES 🥺 it made me laugh so much, it made me soft, it was joyful and also just wrecked me with its memory box full of grief, and longing, and death, and hysterical whimsy.
nick was so funny, not like jeff funny, or manfred funny, a new funny we haven’t seen from him before!! the alliance of nicks were outstanding also! 🤭 hoping to see it again, with a double feature of this and motu when it comes out!!
Matthew talking about adapting the book, and even though they’re different in some ways, wanting people to have the same feeling at the end of the movie that they had at the end of the book. 📘
He said he cut Flynny’s part, and said he owes him a movie because he cut two really good Philip moments from the movie. (And a Bea moment).
He said Alex and Henry come downstairs and announce they’re boyfriends to their friends and Bea (who wants to throw them a coming out party because she’s so excited!). And Philip comes in and then what happens is essentially the part from the email in the book where Henry comes out to Philip.
I asked Matthew what his favourite underrated/small firstprince moment is and he said Nick’s face in the cafe when he finishes speaking, and looks up! 🥺💙
Warnings: silly fluff + filthy smut, dirty talk, dom!Nick spits in your mouth and treats you like his little slut, choking, fingering, finger-sucking, face-fucking (you worship his cock)
A/N: Just daydreaming out loud lol.. I’m a whore for this man and have no shame at all… title is a “Comfort” lyric, bc Nick’s lovely song inspired this fluffy smutty fic! 🤍
Sitting alone in a seaside cafe on a secluded Greek island is not at all where you would’ve expected to end up this year.
And yet somehow it feels like this is right where you belong—as if all of the forces of the universe were pushing and pulling you towards this exact time and place all along. The feeling makes no sense but it’s strong. While you silently laugh to yourself the sensation still won’t disappear.
The sky is bright and clear. More than anywhere else the high sun seems at home here. Greece has held a special haven in your heart for a long time for personal reasons: it’s been your constant happy place throughout the passing of your life’s chaotic seasons. It’s pure coincidence that your current celebrity crush is from here.
Not from this island specifically of course. But he never shuts up about his Greek roots, which is so freaking cute. One of the countless things that make Nicholas Galitzine the most lovable person who has ever existed in the history of the universe, who stirs up inside you a fucking insatiable thirst… in the words of his on-screen mom Mary Villiers, you’re so Nick-struck it’s like a curse.
You silently laugh yet again, reminding yourself that you took this island getaway to recharge and reflect and focus on figuring out your future rather than to daydream about your silly little obsession. Sticking your fork into a cube of feta perched atop your salad and twirling the chunk of white cheese around absentmindedly, you wax homeric in your head as you stare out upon the wine-dark sea. Hoping in vain that the waves will hypnotize you enough to prevent you from slipping into another thirsty fantasizing session.
Maybe you should go for a swim. To try and wash off all your filthy thoughts of him. But you know all too well that getting wet like that would only make it worse. You’re already all wet in other ways—thanks to Nick that’s how it is always—and you’ve been spiraling so deep into your crazy stupid love for him that you’re quite sure this curse isn’t one you can easily reverse.
You turn your attention back to the empty journal beside you, in which you’re supposed to be writing down all of your deepest introspections and biggest aspirations and damn have you tried to. But the page remains blank. And for that you have Nick Fucking Galitzine to thank. You take another sip of your iced drink, wishing that it could quench your burning thirst while you pick up your pen and hover it above the paper as if that’ll help you think.
That’s when the song playing in the cafe comes to an end and promptly transitions into the next one. And at the sound of the first three guitar notes, recognition grabs you hard by the throat, suddenly sending your head spinning in the absolute wrong direction.
Apparently the universe is dead set on your doom. You’re coming totally undone before the singer even starts to croon about how he’s been searching for home in hotel rooms…
The last thing you needed to hear was that voice. That achingly angelically sweet and yet sinfully sultry soul-crushing voice. But now you have no fucking choice.
What’re the chances? Nick released “Comfort” ages ago and the fact that it’s playing today in this quaint Greek cafe is truly utter madness.
With the lowest of sighs, you shut your journal and slam your pen down on the cover. Close your eyes. Press your fingers to your temples and count the seconds till the song is over.
Against your will, your lips end up mouthing the lyrics that are practically tattooed onto your soul. From your first listen to your millionth you’ve always found Nick’s lyrics resonant and beautiful. Try as you might to block them out, the words and chords resound within you louder still. You wish you could just disappear inside yourself and crawl into a hole. You’re sure you look insane right now without a doubt, but luckily there are few other customers here at the moment if any at all.
Or so you thought. Clueless about the other plans the universe has got. It’s about to go fucking off. As if shit wasn’t already unhinged enough.
Nothing could have ever prepared you for the voice that you presently hear—not from the cafe’s playlist but actually physically here. Echoing the lyrics that were just sung over the speakers in that same heavenly voice so heartbreakingly soft… “Can’t seem to shake it off?”
Your eyes instantly flutter open. And at this point you are certain that the universe is broken.
Standing before you is the vision of your every dream of honey-hazel eyes and lusciously full lips and flawlessly honed cheekbones. You’re so stunned that all sense of time and space becomes a blur, and for all you know fucking centuries may have passed or more, before your breathless voice finally escapes you in a weak moan. “…I love you.”
Excuse the actual fuck out of you?! Being normal in the presence of a Greek god isn’t something you have any clue how to do—it’s not your fault that you just said that when you couldn’t possibly have stopped the words from coming through. Still he stands here in front of you. You scramble to scrape your tongue off of the floor and curse the universe for making such an idiot out of you.
“I mean I get that I don’t really know you but I sort of feel like I do, and I love the idea of you…?”
That wasn’t much better goddamnit. Words are just spilling out of your stupid bitch mouth and you need him to shut you up right now by shoving his cock in as deep as he can fucking ram it.
Nick watches as you try to swallow down that thought which obviously doesn’t work. His perfect lips curve up in something caught between a smile and a smirk. “It’s a great film.”
Ugh. Of course he takes the bait your clumsy words unwittingly laid for him. He knows the movie title wasn’t what you meant but he’s being all teasing and smug. You hate him.
You hate him for so beautifully existing and you definitely hate him for the shit that he says next so brutally and breezily. Gesturing gently at the chair across from you which causes you to lose touch with reality completely. “Is this seat free?”
What is happening. As if the way he looks and sounds isn’t sufficiently life-threatening, he smells so glorious it’s maddening. “Y-you’re shitting me,” you stammer because how the fuck are you supposed to take that question literally? And yet he isn’t moving so he seems to be carrying on this act committedly. You blurt out more words while hating yourself for the cringeworthy puddle of mush you’ve become. “Sorry I just um… I swear I don’t usually come off so awkward and dumb. Usually I can act cool and even be witty.”
“Who needs a personality when you’re so pretty?” Nick quips and flashes a dastardly little wink, devilish charm radiating off of him through a grin so sweet and genuine that both the savagery and softness of this man are threatening to push you past the fucking brink. “But seriously—you don’t have to worry about what I think. And you don’t have to act like anything with me.”
Behind his naughty guise you catch a glimpse of some deep hidden part of him that’s bursting at the seams with heartfelt honesty. It’s everything that you could ever want to see; you’ve always been enamored not just with his godlike beauty, but more importantly with the kind of person you envision him to be. Glimpsing that part of him now soothes your nerves somehow and gives you enough comfort to nod toward the opposite seat confirming that it’s free, as you start responding more smoothly and confidently. “I guess since you spend so much of your life around actors you have a kink for authenticity?”
He bites his lip and arches up his brows a little bit, happily taking your tacit invitation for him to sit, as if there’s nowhere else on earth he wants to be. “I do honestly,” he replies, sin and sincerity both sparkling in his eyes, so darkly bright you start to actually believe that he might think you’re pretty, unbelievably. “Though talking about kinks so soon on a first date is new even for me.”
You were the one who brought up the word ‘kink’… but hearing him repeat it now is something else entirely and enthralls you so hard you forget how to blink. Just fall under his spell feeling higher the faster you sink. “So this is our first date then?”
“What else would you call two strangers sitting in a cafe having a very flirtatious conversation?”
Your inner slut is now doing the talking and when it comes to Nick she has no fucking reservations. “Well I already said I love you, Nicholas Galitzine, so it feels like we’re way past date number one. And given all of the ideas I’ve had of you… I mean, in my head we’ve already done everything under the sun.”
Hazel eyes lock on yours so heatedly you’re both beyond undone. “Your head sounds like fun.”
He has no fucking clue. The way you’d both drown in the depths of your obsession. You smile seductively and wrap your lips around the straw stuck in your drink to take a long suggestive sip then quote one of your favorite lines from his 2024 Bumble interview. “Endless fun.”
Nick shifts in his seat, shuffling his feet, trying to curb the massive problem that’s inevitably stirring in his pants by steering the banter towards a more innocent course. “What’s less fun is you calling me by my full name when I don’t yet know yours.”
Yet. Just the thought of Nick Galitzine knowing your name and maybe even moaning it someday gets you all soaking wet. Whether your poor heart is prepared to fall for him just that much harder… to get whisked away into this wild waking dream that much farther… you aren’t sure. How close can your remaining shreds of sanity and dignity even afford for him to get? So you prolong the tease for now to keep your heart safer behind the playful torture. “I could call you something less formal or more formal if that’s what you’d prefer. Something like sir…?”
He has to bite his tongue to keep his dick from getting so hard it might shatter, at your utterance of that word. Heart pumping faster. Seeing the shamelessly submissive little slut inside you drives him mad and he wants you to drive him madder. Yet for now Nick shrugs it off all nonchalant, as if deep down he’s not a sick, sadistic, dominant, dirty fucking bastard. “If you’re into that, sure.”
You’re nothing but his whore down at your core. Love for him burning so damn dirty that it’s pure. “Then does my name even matter?”
You’re supposed to just be flirting. Keeping things light and the door to anything heavy shut tight, assuming that whatever Nicholas Galitzine might want from you won’t last for more than one night. Guard up to protect your heart from hurting.
The last thing you could’ve ever imagined is that your words would inflict pain on him. You’ll never have anything close to that kind of claim on him. So surely you are just imagining it—you can’t begin to fathom it—and yet you could’ve sworn that something in him broke just at the notion that you shouldn’t share your name with him.
Even if you’re delusional to think you might’ve caused it, there was a light inside his eyes moments ago brighter than any other light you’ll ever know and now he’s lost it. There’s nothing you wouldn’t give to see that light burn strong. Maybe these aren’t your words to say; maybe to care for him the way you do isn’t your role to play. But you’re the one who’s here with him today, whether or not it’s where the universe reckons you’re fated to belong. “Hey… hey, what’s wrong?”
He seems afraid to meet your gaze whereas till now he had been holding it so deeply for so long. His head stays lowered as he listens to the lyrics of his own creation which have still been carrying on in the background all along. “Some days I hate this song.”
You won’t dare ask him why. But the light and the weight of your silence invite him to lay himself bare for you just the slightest bit or at least try.
And so he heaves a sigh. Lets the words flow though he’s still not quite brave enough to meet your eye. “Whenever I’m in Greece I often like to visit this island instead of staying in Athens or heading off to Mykonos—those popular spots everyone knows—to get away from everyone and everything honestly. From myself especially. Escape the fame. Someplace where almost no one knows my name.” He nods over at the cafe owner who is stationed out of earshot presently; they know each other well evidently, and the vibe seems friendly. “This fucker plays my song on repeat every time I walk in just to mess with me.”
You feel yourself spiraling into your head, as you think through how to reply to what he said. It pulls you back a bit closer to the cold comfort of reality, to hear him state all this so simply and factually, explaining what once seemed like some kind of fateful serendipity that the universe must’ve arranged magically. Whereas till now the fleeting fantasy had captured and enraptured you, the flat brunt of brute fact comes back into view. And you fall into your old habit of self-pity because it feels like you have to. “I can only imagine how valuable it must be, to have a place where you feel safe from your own popularity and unwanted publicity. I guess running into a fangirl who’s so stupidly infatuated with you ruined all of that for you.”
The push and pull go hard between him and you. Seeing you break cuts him in two, and now he has to try to reignite the light he’d seen in you, as if keeping that light alive is all he ever wants to do. “That couldn’t be farther from true. Call me a hopeless romantic but I felt something from the moment I first saw you. Something I’ve never really felt in all my life but always wanted to.”
And just like that the fantasy sucks you back in faster than you can even fathom. All you can do is stare in utter disbelief at him. He’s so much more than every damn idea you’ve ever had of him.
Your silence now strikes him like violence in this vulnerable state he’s never really been to, and it’s way too much for him to fucking think through. Reminds him why he never hopes for anything because nothing is safe to hold onto. “But I’m just an idea and just a kink to you. It was silly of me to feel something so quickly let alone to think that you might want it too.”
“Nick,” you pray his name aloud and reach to press your palm against his pale face and the first touch of your skin to his is nothing short of magic. “There’s nothing hopeless about being romantic. Fuck, I am too. I’ve just been sitting here in shock, because you saying things like this feels like all of my wildest dreams are coming true. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that dick. Of course I fucking do. But please please trust me when I tell you: I want everything with you.”
Then you lean close and tell him your name. Breathe it into his ear like a spell and a promise that sets him aflame. Worth more than any other word could ever say. You want him to know and to have and to hold every part of you. So in sync with the comforting lyrics that currently play: Something to tether my heart to…
Nick melts softly into the warmth of your palm on his cheek, seeking comfort only to end up finding new strength in the way it makes him weak. Places his hand over yours. Tilts his perfect face to press his parted lips against your pulsing wrist, honey-dark gaze gulping your whole entire soul down in one kiss, shared desire binding the two of you together with a spark that holds enough fire and force to start another fucking universe.
Already his heart is tethered to the truth in every hopeful word that you openly tell him. He’s a devil of an angel and his tone is light and playful while his smile floods you up inside so seriously heavy you could burst. The very blood in your veins hangs onto his words, knowing it’d be heaven to let him take you down to hell with him. “Wanna go searching for home in my hotel room?”
No more than twenty seconds later the two of you breathlessly stumble out into the open air, and his hotel is just a short ways down the beach but he can’t wait to take you there. Has you in broad daylight with your back shoved against the outside wall of the cafe, out of sight from the nearest window though it’s not that far away. Before you can gasp in surprise he has one hand twined in your hair. Other hand grasps your now constantly dropping jaw. Even more so up close Nicholas Galitzine is the most heart-stoppingly stunning thing you ever fucking saw. Beauty more blinding than the sun shining so brightly on the seas surrounding all of the Greek islands because this man is truly a Greek god walking among mere mortals and for anyone on earth to be so beautiful is just not fucking fair.
He leans in slowly almost like he doesn’t dare. Hope swells up in his heart, hope for the time he has with you to last before it even really starts. Hope is what kills him every time but just for once he doesn’t care.
You’re captivated by the depths swirling behind his hazel stare. Can’t read his mind but you can feel it all the same and you both know this flame you share is something real and fucking rare.
And when the space between your lips and his finally disappears… the taste of him unlocks a thirst in you stronger than anything you ever knew and now the flame is fucking fierce. As if it hadn’t been already. But now the axis of the earth shifts as the universe hits a whole new level of unhinged and unsteady. You seriously weren’t ready.
His slick tongue sliding over yours, savoring every trace of you that he explores… his lips so lush and full making love to your open mouth in ways that open up your soul… all you are for him honestly, and ever want to be, is just a gaping open hole.
He feels it too. He’d hoped and dreamed you’d be as slutty and submissive as you seemed and he can tell it’s really true. And just for now anchors himself into that feral sense of power over you so he won’t risk killing the mood by melting into the softness of all the heartfelt shit he feels for you. The time for that will come. For now what you both need is him to dominate you and degrade you for the dirty little whore that you’ve become.
Nick pulls back from the kiss knowing you’d literally die for just another hit. The desperate groan that slips out of your throat confirms it, while his hand upon your jaw shifts to caress your chin and hold your drooling bottom lip down with his thumb. Your tongue is aching for the taste of him again, and then… next thing you know your tongue is blessed with a thick wet wad of his spit. From where his mouth hovers so powerfully above yours he just motherfucking spat in it. And the delicious degradation strikes you dumb. All you can do is guzzle this glorious gift that he just gave you as your whole body goes numb.
And then he smirks so savagely it makes your pussy throb and twitch. His dark dominant energy is fucking rich. “Filthy fucking bitch,” he teases while the filth of it all clearly pleases him too as he purses up his lips with a sadistic hum.
Did you just come?
Whether or not you’ve come just yet, you are embarrassingly fucking soaking wet. And Nick seems determined to see, before he even touches your pussy, just how much wetter you can get.
You’d be a puddle on the floor if his hands weren’t framing your face to hold you up against the wall. Pinning you right where he wants you like you’re his personal fuckdoll. If he let go you’d fucking fall; you’ve lost any sense of composure and control. But he’s not letting go at all—instead his hand drops from your chin, palm hot as hellfire against your balmy skin, and lands around your fucking neck and renders you a fucking wreck because Nick Galitzine is choking you and now the dark blaze in his gaze is downright diabolical.
His hot breath fans across your face to feed your hazy senses full of him as if you weren’t already drowning in him bad enough. You wish you could inhale him but his grip is cutting off your fucking airways till even your vision starts going unclear. And then he brings his lust-glossed lips down to your ear, the growl of his voice gravelly and rough, slaughtering you with the next words you hear: “This shit getting you off?”
Feels like you’re dying from the hotness, and you can’t even respond yes. God yes. When it comes to Nick and only Nick because he is your fucking god above, the one you madly love, this sick shit is exactly what you love.
His fingers press into your pulse point to feel how all your blood beats for him, and then his hand slackens its grip, allowing air into your lungs, though he knows all you want to breathe is him, and so his mouth attacks your lips, letting you take the breath of life off of his tongue.
Meanwhile his right hand slides down your dress, slipping under the fabric where he finds access. And in an instant, at the first touch of his fingers on your dripping cunt, you’re driven past the damnedest heights of utter madness. Of course you knew he would be good at this—but fuck. Takes him no time at all to hit the perfect spot and you know that it’s not a matter of luck. He has the epicenter of your pleasure and the sum of all your parts and the whole of your soul and your heart in the palm of his hand as if he’s always had this.
Nick moans wildly into your mouth at the sinful sensation of how soaked you are. And he’s only just scratched the surface so far. Every cell in your body is nothing but an endless sea of need for him—you live and die and breathe and bleed for him. All that you are, were and ever will be is for him. So obviously your pussy drips for him.
Just because it should’ve always been obvious, that doesn’t mean it awes him any less. It awes him a lot evidently. He’s still moaning like mad and breathing heavily. Breaks the kiss to brace his sweat-beaded forehead against yours as he plays with your clit and pumps two of his slick fingers into your slit then three. “So fucking wet for me.”
At this point Nick Galitzine has you so fucked in the head that you’re practically dead and you know it’s exactly where you’re meant to be.
“You dirty fucking girl,” he mercilessly continues, knuckle-deep pumping into you, owning you to your core, turning three digits to four, making your knees buckle and toes curl. Everything he says and does discovers some uncharted part of you that only he could ever have the power to unfurl.
And then he’s kissing you again slowly and softly. You’re totally overcome, exploding all over him, and thankfully he hasn’t ordered you to keep count of how many times you’ve come for him because this whole session has felt like one unending orgasm honestly.
Just then, you become vaguely aware of a group of strangers’ voices audible around the corner of the building and luckily it’s a convenient time for the interruption. You’re so shameless for him that you’d let him do anything to you, in public view, without hesitation. But Nick has just enough restraint in this moment to realize that carrying on with you this way right outside the cafe might not be worth the risk to his professional reputation.
So he clamps his left hand over your mouth to muffle your needy little whimper as he pulls his right hand fingers out of you. Kisses you sweetly on the forehead in a way that says he’s super fucking proud of you. Then keeps his left palm firmly pressed against your lips as he proceeds to graphically lick every sticky finger of his right hand fucking clean. It’s a good thing he’s stifling the sounds that would be coming out of you, because the vision of his glistening pink tongue lapping your juices while he growls in feral pleasure at your flavor is ineffably obscene.
Both of you need some time to come down from your highs. Breathing in aching groans and shaking sighs. His face is buried in your neck as you tremble against the wall, because he knows it won’t be helpful, for the sake of the insanely raging bulge between his thighs, if he kisses your mouth or meets your heartbreakingly pretty eyes.
After a little while when you’re both ready to go, Nick shifts his head and leaves a quick kiss on the sensitive skin of your throat where he’d choked you just moments ago. He fucking knows these little kisses from him set your soul aglow. Then he stands back to his full height, finally lifting his palm off of your panting mouth to take your right hand in his left and intertwine your fingers tight. Kisses the back of your hand just before he romantically whisks you away and this whole thing feels like the filthiest fucking fairytale as love and lust equally sparkle in his gaze with the next simple fact he states. “My hotel room awaits.”
You barely register anything that happens in the next five minutes or so. Running along the sunlit beach with him then sneaking through a side entrance to his swanky hotel is all a blur because your burning thirst to touch and taste this man all over is the only thing you know.
When finally the two of you are all alone in his sumptuous top floor suite and the door slams loudly behind him, you immediately sink down to your knees on instinct given what an utter slut you are for him, and he already knows you love him, but you’re dying to remind him.
“I fucking love you,” the words spill unstoppably off of your love-drunk lips as you gawk up at the gorgeousness of Nicholas Fucking Galitzine towering like a king above you. “Please please let me worship every fucking perfect inch of you.”
The desire written all across his flawless face darkens and deepens at the sight of you kneeling beneath him with your face so close to his crotch that it hurts. He’d been planning to carry you off to the bedroom to make sweet love but this kinky little itch of yours will need to be scratched first. The sweet stuff can come afterwards. And luckily Nick has this same kinky itch. “Greedy little bitch. Do you think you deserve that privilege?”
It’s a damn dream cum true how into this he is. His dominance is so delicious. Feeds into all your kinks to the point that the way you worship him feels beyond fucking religious. “No one could ever deserve you. I just live to serve you.”
His right hand reaches down to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt your face further up toward him. Admiring what a good girl you are for him. As ever, his touch upon your skin is a finessed balance of fragile tenderness and forceful pressure. “You exist just for my pleasure?”
“Yes,” you sigh, the only possible reply. “Yes, sir.”
And then he shifts his hand to trace two of his fingers through the thirsting space between your quivering lips. He knows you won’t be able to resist the urge to kiss his fingertips. These same digits that were buried deep inside your dripping core moments before. “Are you going to be my perfect little whore?”
You bob your head in an emphatic nod, no longer free to speak because now he is feeding you his fingers and next thing you know you’re gagging on the knuckles of a motherfucking god.
“I know you are,” he goes on to taunt, as devilishly dark and dominant as he has been all day so far, owning your mouth just as he’d done your cunt. Knowing that this is everything you’ll ever want. “You’re nothing but a desperate fucking slut for me aren’t you? Dying for me to do whatever the fuck I want to you?”
You groan in bliss around the four fingers he’s ramming down your throat right now. Wishing so badly you could answer him with words somehow. Yes sir yes sir yes sir echos on repeat in your head. Since you can’t talk you lean deeper into his hand and suck it like a cock in hope of answering him with actions instead. The taste of your own recent pleasure lingers on his skin, traces still clinging even after he had licked his fingers clean but mostly all that you can taste is how much power he holds over you which tastes like fifty thousand shades of sin.
Dying for Nick to do whatever the fuck he wants to you? It couldn’t be more fucking true. And as luck would have it everything you want is exactly what he wants too.
You want him to fuck you to death and back to life again and again, the way only he can. You want him to spank your ass red as he yanks back your hair to spit into your mouth just like he did before. Want him to tie you up as tightly as your heart to his has already been tethered. Want him to hurt you if your pain will bring him pleasure, since his pleasure is the only source of yours and you were put on earth only to be his perfect fucking whore. Want all of that and more. So so much more.
He reads your mind through the look in your eyes and the sound of your moans and the feel of your mouth swallowing his fingers down to the bone, and his own mind is fucking blown. He can’t believe you’re his to own. You’re such a goddamn dream come true. The truth of course is that you own him too, and once the sex-crazed haze clears he won’t even try to hide it. But for the moment while the two of you are deep into the kink of things the whole dynamic is deliciously one-sided.
In light of all of this, feeling your throat gaping wide open for him like a bottomless abyss, he has never been harder in his life and you both really fucking need his cock inside it.
So with his left hand he starts taking off his pants and your eyes basically explode out of your head because you’re so fucking excited.
When his right hand leaves your mouth it’s downright slathered in your spit. The wetness of your thirst for him, the way your floodgates burst for him, and you’re so grateful that this god is gracing you with his glorious cock when you know no one on this earth fucking deserves it.
Now that both of his hands are free—before his pants are off fully—he flings his shirt off first, knowing the sight of all his bare skin while you blow him will further ignite your thirst. He knows you well of course. His broad shoulders and sculpted chest and chiseled abs are more stunning and statuesque than literally anything in the universe. The urge to rise up off your knees to slobber all over his fucking perfect torso is ridiculously strong, and yet you stay in place knowing down here is right where you belong.
Just before he finally frees his rock hard meat Nick cradles your low-hanging jaw in his hand, and his touch and his voice in this moment are so damn dominant, your cunt is drowning in its own fucking flood. “Tell me what you want, slut.”
Without hesitation you do. He keeps finding inside you new dimensions of submission to unlock. “You. All of you. I love you. I want your cock. I need your cock. I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck.”
And now he’s harder than a rock. Lets his pants drop at last so that you can live up to your talk. “Then suck.”
Hoooly fuck. Nothing in all your wildest fantasies could ever have prepared you for the absolutely divine ecstasy of beholding Nick Galitzine’s cock. Just the sight of it runs you over like a truck. You’re dumbstruck and awestruck and lovestruck. Powerless to do anything other than gawk.
Of course you always knew it’d be flawless, because it’s his. Just as beautiful as all the rest of his body is. But this…? How does beauty like this even exist? No painter’s palette could create this shade of pink. No poet could pen a description of this pillar of perfection coursed with veins tracing its thick length so exquisitely that you’ve lost all ability to think. You fear it’ll disappear if you blink.
He sees the wonder in your eyes and feels the love burning behind it, and you’ve disobeyed his order but he doesn’t even mind it. This love runs so much more than skin-deep and he already knows that he’ll never let go now he has it with you. Finally his days of constantly wanting to run from his hopes and his feelings are done now he’s found something worth running to.
Meanwhile you’re mesmerized and fucking high on his maddeningly manly scent as your sanity loses its grip. The dewy bead of precum gleaming on the tip—everything inside of you is screaming at how beautiful it is and how desperately you need to catch it before it can drip. Your wide gaze silently begs your god for permission to worship. Without words he grants it and your eyes stay locked on his as you lean in to graze his glistening cockhead with your trembling lower lip.
And it takes every ounce of his restraint not to erupt right on the spot. Your upper lip now joins the lower to caress his leaking tip in a soft kiss that has no right to be so hot. And when your lips unlatch from him with a slick pop, your tongue slips out to taste that precious drop, and then your lashes are all fluttering in bliss, lips puckering into another fucking life-altering kiss, deeper and sloppier this time and then again with ever more passion until you’re sucking the soul out of him with everything you’ve got. He wants to moan your name but he forgot. Forgot his own and doesn’t even know what planet he is on because his brain has now been drained of every thought.
And so is yours. Of course. His cock is now your whole entire universe. All you can do is worship it for all you’re worth, stretching your lips out on its gorgeous girth, savoring the sweet and salt and musk and magic of it all that drenches your cunt till it bursts and quenches all your deepest thirsts.
You crave him deeper than you’re even capable of going as you try with all your might, to take the head of his dick down into your gullet as the muscles of your throat contract around him like a cunt so wet and tight. You need Nick’s cock to make its home inside your holes all day and night. You want his hands to tangle fiercely in your hair, to hold your face down in his crotch and firmly keep it there, to push and pull and fuck your skull, because to be his little fuckdoll… nothing else on earth could ever feel so right.
And then next thing you know he’s doing it—doing exactly what you craved because your dirty mind is his to read and your whole life is his to ravage and to ruin it.
He sets the perfect pace, deliberately plunging his dick in and out of your worshipful face. His hazel eyes are set ablaze. Nick owns you just as much with his hands and his cock as he does with his wild dark gaze. Dominates you in all of the ways. Every stroke of his hips sends you spiraling harder past the farthest end of subspace.
He’d be spouting out filth if he could. Calling you his fucking whore and dirty bitch and nasty little cockslut as he praises you for taking it so good. Right now he can’t because he has to focus hard on not blowing his load, making this last just that much longer till his pleasure coats your throat. This is his first time fucking your beloved face and he was not ready for it to overwhelm him like this even though he knew it would. By the second time surely he’ll get back to talking dirty like he should.
Yet even without words you feel just as degraded as you long to be. His savage fingers digging hard into your scalp and his big sweaty balls slapping against your slobbery chin with every thrust have you right where you want to be.
Soon his sack tightens, and the feral energy behind his thrusts heightens, and then he’s holding your head down in place with all his weakened strength, as deep as you can go gorging yourself on his entire throbbing length. Your nose is smashed into the musky mess of damp hairs at the base, the smell of him just as intoxicating as the taste, and now your hands reach up to grasp the firm globes of his ass and pull him farther into your adoring face. You need him to fucking explode. Need him to feed you till you’re choking on his load.
But if his cock erupts now with the head of it stuck so deep in your gullet you won’t even get to see his cum or taste it on your tongue which would be such a goddamn shame. And he won’t get to look into those pretty eyes of yours that set his soul aflame. Both of you want to share this moment and to have it fill your senses up in every fucking way. So with a shaky sigh he slides your head off of his dick then wraps his right hand tight around his shaft while groaning at the sight of all the strings of your spit mixed in with his precum glistening like sin between your mouth and his meat as your face is pulled away.
Every fiber of his being comes unstrung. He has the head of his cock pressed against your tongue. Pumps himself furiously with his fist, while his left hand is still laced in your hair to hold your loving face right fucking there while your lashes are fluttering in bliss, and fuck he’s never seen any damn thing as beautiful as this.
Neither have you of course. It’s even better than in all the sweetest fantasies of yours. Nick Galitzine in all his glory is about to drop his load into your filthy fucking whore mouth and he honestly has never looked as gorgeous and as glowing and as godlike as he does right fucking now. Your love is making him even more of a god than he already was somehow.
And when he finally blesses you with the first shot of his divine delicious cum… you feel so much that you go numb. The taste of him explodes like liquid fucking heaven on your tongue once and again, and then—and then he shifts so the next rope shoots out onto your nose and upper lip, so that the smell of his sweet cum can fill your lungs just as the flavor spills across your tongue because drinking him in is meant to be an all-consuming act of fucking worship. And the next rope lands on your forehead then another on your cheek, as your eyes stay wide open to behold the beauty of it all that makes you so damn weak. This is exactly what you’ve wanted always. To be covered in his thick creamy white glaze, while he towers above you and devours you with the power of his gaze.
By now you’ve lost count of how many shots you’ve taken but the number doesn’t matter and it may as well be infinite. Just like your love for him which has no fucking limit. Keeps on widening and deepening the faster you fall in it, and he’s falling too in perfect sync with you every second of every fucking minute.
Once he has finally drained every last drop out of his balls, in awe of just how well you’ve taken it all, Nick heaves the longest sigh of his entire life and slumps his back against the wall. If it weren’t for your hands still grabbing at the meaty muscles of his ass you so passionately adore, he would surely collapse to the floor. With the spare energy that’s left in him he drags his pulsing cockhead through the mess that he’s made all across your face, gathering every glossy trace, ensuring no drop goes to waste, feeding it all into your lips so you can twirl your tongue around the tip and slurp up everything he has to give because that is the reason why you live and fuck you really are his perfect little whore.
You’re that and so much fucking more.
With you he’s found home in this hotel room and now he’s truly tethered his whole heart to you, knowing just how much you worship him because he is a god to you, but more importantly feeling how much you really love him—so much more than just the idea of him—Nick can’t wait to spend the rest of his life telling you and showing you how much he loves you, too.
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Thank you for reading!! And if you enjoyed this please please like/reblog/comment or send me an ask or anything!!! 💖
The push and pull go hard between him and you. Seeing you break cuts him in two, and now he has to try to reignite the light he'd seen in you, as if keeping that light alive is all he ever wants to do. "That couldn't be farther from true. Call me a hopeless romantic but I felt something from the moment | first saw you. Something l've never really felt in all my life but always wanted to."
Nick pulls back from the kiss knowing you'd literally die for just another hit. The desperate groan that slips out of your throat confirms it, while his hand upon your jaw shifts to caress your chin and hold your drooling bottom lip down with his thumb. Your tongue is aching for the taste of him again, and then... next thing you know your tongue is blessed with a thick wet wad of his spit.
this fic by my bb @nicholasgalobscene is so fucking good, I can’t stop thinking about it! ✨🤎✨
