Can I please request 68, 45, 29 for Gracie Abrams? I loveeee your writing so much!!!
take it - gracie abrams
sub!gracie x dom!reader
68 —“can you stay quiet if i take this call?”
45 — “can we use a toy?”
29 — “choke me”
prompt list
thank uu, hope u enjoy :)
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱𝄞⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
she’s already in your bed when you come back from brushing your teeth.
legs tucked under your blanket like it’s hers. hair in a loose braid. phone glowing softly in her hand as she scrolls something quietly. you pause in the doorway, unsure whether to say anything.
she doesn’t look up.
“you always just climb into my bed now?” you tease, voice low.
“you always leave the door unlocked,” she murmurs, eyes still on the screen.
you cross the room, the air between you filled with something too familiar to name. she shifts over as you sit beside her. not too close. not too far.
her voice is soft when she says, “this doesn’t mean anything, right?”
you look at her. “what doesn’t?”
“this.” she gestures vaguely between you—your bed, your shared warmth, your silence that’s never awkward. “us.”
your throat tightens. “do you want it to?”
she doesn’t answer.
instead, she flips onto her side, facing you.
“you wanna do something stupid?”
you smile. “always.”
her eyes flick down to your lips. “then kiss me.”
you do.
it’s slow at first—like testing the water, seeing how deep you’re willing to go.
but when she presses her hand to your waist and pulls you closer, you realize you’re already drowning.
she climbs into your lap like she’s done it a thousand times, fingers slipping under the hem of your sleep shirt, lips getting hungrier by the second.
you pull back, breathless. “are we doing this?”
“only if you want to.”
“gracie—”
“please,” she whispers, voice already thick. “just for tonight.”
you hesitate.
but your hands are already on her thighs.
your answer’s already in your kiss.
your shirt’s long gone.
hers is halfway unbuttoned, hanging off one shoulder like she forgot it was ever there. your thighs are pressed together, bare skin tangled under the covers, mouths brushing, noses bumping, hands constantly moving but never enough.
she’s warm. everywhere.
you tug her tighter into your lap, letting your fingers trace the edge of her bra.
she breathes out a quiet, shaky laugh. “you’re being careful.”
“should i not be?”
“i didn’t say that,” she whispers, head tipping back as you kiss along her jaw. “it’s just... i’ve never seen you look this soft before.”
you pull back slightly, meeting her eyes.
“you always let me pretend this doesn’t matter,” you murmur. “so i never asked if i could show you that it does.”
she goes still.
not tense. not scared. just quiet in that gracie way—like she’s filing every word away in the back of her mind, saving it for when she’s ready to feel it fully.
her hand comes up, brushing your hair back from your face. “kiss me again.”
you do.
slow, hot, steady—until she’s squirming in your lap, hips rocking just enough to make you gasp into her mouth.
your hand moves lower, fingers ghosting over her soaked underwear.
she whimpers. “fuck—”
you pull back, voice soft. “can we use a toy?”
her eyes flutter open, pupils wide and dark. “you brought one?”
you nod.
she bites her lip. “what kind?”
“strap. soft harness. nothing crazy.”
she smiles. “so you’ve been thinking about this.”
“i always think about this.”
her face flushes at that. she leans in and kisses you—hard, needy now.
“okay,” she whispers. “use it on me.”
you climb off the bed and open the drawer by your nightstand. when you glance back, she’s already lying on her back, watching you with this quiet awe, knees bent slightly, lips parted like she’s about to beg.
you pull on the harness, adjusting the straps, your pulse hammering under your skin.
gracie bites her bottom lip and exhales shakily.
“you gonna be good for me?” you ask, stepping between her legs.
her voice is barely a whisper. “only if you make me.”
you crawl over her slowly, the toy resting heavy against your thighs. gracie stares at it like she’s never seen one before—eyes wide, breath catching, lips parted. her thighs twitch open instinctively, inviting, nervous, so goddamn ready.
“you okay?” you whisper, brushing your nose against hers.
she nods too fast. “mhm.”
your hand slides down her stomach, under the waistband of her underwear. soaked.
“you’re sure?”
her voice is breathy. “yes. just—”
you wait.
“just be slow.”
you smile softly. “always.”
you take your time. pull her panties down carefully, like she’s made of something fragile. her legs part wider, her hand gripping the sheets beside her. you kiss the inside of her knee. then her thigh. then lower—until her hips lift up on instinct.
but you stop just before your mouth meets her.
“later,” you murmur, fingers curling around the base of the strap. “right now i just wanna see how good you look when i stretch you.”
she lets out a quiet gasp, already breathless before you even move.
you line up slowly, letting the tip of the toy brush against her soaked folds. her hips jump.
“you okay?” you ask again.
she nods hard. “please.”
you push in just an inch. her head falls back, mouth open. her legs start to shake.
“fuck,” she whispers. “you always ruin me so gently.”
you lean over her, sliding in another inch. “you want me to stop?”
“no,” she breathes. “i want you to keep ruining me.”
you rock your hips a little—just enough to make her arch off the bed.
and then she says it.
quiet.
so soft it’s nearly swallowed by her moan.
“love you.”
you freeze.
just for a second.
she doesn’t notice—or pretends not to. her eyes are shut, her fingers curled into the sheets, her breath coming in shaky bursts.
you push in deeper, slower now, like you're afraid you’ll lose her to whatever she didn’t mean to say.
maybe she did mean it.
maybe that’s worse.
she’s clutching your shoulders now, nails pressing into your skin like anchors. her hips roll up to meet every thrust—messy, desperate, needy. the room is warm, sticky with breath and sweat and everything she won’t say again.
but you heard it.
love you.
you don’t ask her to repeat it. not yet.
the strap is buried deep, your pace slow but steady, grinding against her just right. gracie's thighs are trembling on either side of you, her head thrown back, mouth open around a moan.
“you’re doing so good, baby,” you whisper against her cheek.
her breath stutters. “harder.”
you obey.
you start to thrust in deeper now—rhythmic, rougher, her whole body jolting under you in the best way. she gasps each time you hit that spot inside her, her legs squeezing tighter around your waist.
your hand slides up her stomach, over her ribs, to the base of her throat.
she opens her eyes just enough to meet yours.
“choke me,” she whispers.
your breath catches.
“you sure?”
“please,” she says, voice cracking. “just a little.”
your fingers wrap gently around her neck, applying light pressure—not enough to hurt, just enough to claim.
she whimpers—that perfect high-pitched sound that makes your hips stutter.
“oh my god—” she moans. “fuck—don’t stop.”
“you like that, baby?” you growl, your fingers tightening just slightly. “like me choking you while i fuck you?”
she nods wildly, barely able to speak.
you thrust harder.
her mouth falls open again, breath ragged, eyes glassy. your grip never falters, holding her there as she starts to come undone beneath you.
“good girl,” you murmur. “taking it so well for me.”
“i’m gonna—oh my god, i—”
you lean down, mouth right against her ear.
“you can take it like a good girl, right?”
her whole body shatters.
she cums around the toy, trembling, sobbing into your shoulder, her hands clawing at your back as your grip on her neck loosens gently—guiding her down from it.
you stay still. don’t move. just hold her as she breaks apart in your arms.
her body’s limp beneath you, skin hot and flushed, her hair a tangled mess against your pillow. you haven’t moved—still buried inside her with the strap, arms around her waist, holding her like she might disappear if you let go too soon.
she’s breathing hard, but slower now.
grounded.
“you okay?” you ask, voice low, careful.
she nods without speaking, her cheek pressed to your collarbone.
you shift gently, sliding the toy out of her and tossing it aside. she whines at the loss, but then her arms loop tighter around you, her fingers stroking your back like you’re the one who just got wrecked.
you lie in the quiet.
just the hum of the city outside, the beat of her heart against your chest.
then you ask, softly:
“gracie.”
she hums.
“you said something earlier.”
you feel her go still.
you tilt your head to look at her. “you don’t have to lie about it. i just want to know if you meant it.”
she doesn’t meet your eyes.
“i know what i said.”
you wait.
“and i said it because i meant it,” she whispers. “even if i shouldn’t have.”
your heart stutters. “why shouldn’t you?”
“because this was supposed to be... safe,” she says. “just touch and heat and feeling without all the... scary shit.”
“like loving someone?”
she nods.
you tuck her hair behind her ear, fingers soft. “baby,” you murmur, “you don’t have to be scared of that with me.”
she finally looks at you.
and for the first time all night, she doesn’t hide. doesn’t deflect. doesn’t tease.
she just says, “i love you.”
quiet. certain.
you don’t answer with words. not yet.
you just kiss her. slow and deep and steady, like you mean it too.
because you do.
you’re curled into her side now, legs tangled under the sheets, your hand lazily tracing circles on her bare stomach. gracie’s eyes are half-closed, her fingers twirling strands of your hair. you haven’t moved in what feels like hours.
she looks completely wrecked.
and completely yours.
your lips press lightly to her jaw. “still breathing?”
she hums. “barely.”
you grin, shifting to kiss her neck, just beneath her ear.
then her phone buzzes on the nightstand.
she groans. “no.”
you don’t stop kissing her.
“i have to take that,” she mumbles, reaching blindly for the phone.
“do you?” you murmur against her skin.
she answers the call anyway, thumb swiping across the screen. “hey,” she says, voice a little too casual.
you smirk.
your hand slides lower—over her hips, then between her legs. she stiffens.
“yeah, i got in okay,” she says, eyes flicking down to you. “everything’s fine.”
you run your fingers over her folds slowly, deliberately. she clamps her hand over your wrist, but she’s not stopping you.
“mhm,” she nods into the phone. “just relaxing a bit tonight.”
you brush her clit with your thumb and she jolts, biting down on her bottom lip so hard it goes white.
you whisper, “can you stay quiet if i take this call?”
her eyes narrow, but there’s a flush climbing her throat now.
“yeah,” she says, voice cracking. “i—I’m good. just tired.”
you push two fingers inside her.
her mouth falls open in a silent moan.
she scrambles to keep her voice steady. “can—can i call you back later? i’m about to—uh—shower.”
you curl your fingers deep.
she chokes.
“okay. yeah. talk soon.”
she ends the call and tosses the phone somewhere across the bed.
then grabs your face and kisses you hard.
“you’re evil,” she gasps, breaking the kiss.
you laugh. “you liked it.”
she whines. “i did.”
you curl your fingers again and whisper, “then shut up and take it.”
it’s late now.
gracie’s curled up against your chest, her leg slung over your waist, one hand resting on your stomach like she doesn’t even realize she’s holding you that tightly. her breathing is slow, but she’s not asleep. you can tell.
you run your fingers through her hair gently, nails dragging across her scalp, and she melts into you like she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life.
no teasing.
no games.
just closeness. skin and heartbeat and warmth.
“you okay?” you whisper.
“mmhm.”
“you feel safe?”
she nods against your neck. “always with you.”
you kiss the top of her head. “good.”
she’s quiet for a minute. then she says, barely audible, “do you think this changes things?”
you hesitate.
then: “yeah. i hope it does.”
gracie lifts her head just enough to look at you. her eyes are wide. nervous. open in a way she usually avoids.
“i meant it earlier,” she says. “when i said i loved you.”
“i know,” you whisper, brushing your thumb across her cheek. “i felt it.”
she bites her lip. “i didn’t scare you?”
“no,” you say. “you made me feel like i could finally say it back.”
her breath catches.
“i love you too, gracie.”
her lips part, like she wants to say something—but nothing comes out. just this stunned, quiet softness that spills into a trembling smile.
you pull her closer. your voice is quieter now. steadier.
“you deserve to be loved like this,” you murmur. “no pretending. no disappearing after. just... loved.”
she exhales slowly. “i didn’t know I wanted to hear that.”
“but you did,” you whisper.
“yeah,” she says, burying her face into your chest. “i really, really did.”
you hold her until she falls asleep like that. clinging to you. trusting you.
and this time, you don’t have to wonder if she’ll leave in the morning.
